#instead of trimesters

[shiningshard]

2 MORE WEEKS UNTIL FREEDOM (aka one free week between school modules)

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

I hesitate to say pro-lifers have been dropping the ball on this, per se, but it seems to me we could be highlighting the grossly inappropriate hospital miscarriage care (or lack thereof) that has resulted from a pro-abortion culture, and the concerted effort within the medical profession to turn victims of miscarriage into Schroedinger's Baby. "It's only worth grieving over if the mother is grieving, so don't act like grief is the default reaction." Meanwhile, the quietly grieving mother is treated by hospital staff like her highly medicalized miscarriage is a routine procedure, nothing is wrong, no one has died, and she's not a mother.

[fundielicious-simblr]

(Adalynn's pov)

We've started summer, and the boys are finishing up their last few bits of school work before summer holidays begin. We've been focusing on how to proper structure a letter, so after a few practice runs on composition, spelling (and spell checks), and grammar, the boys selected a few family members and wrote letters to them. I went out and bought stamps so that we didn't have to make the trip to the post office. I advised them to pic family members of different ages so that they can have a range of conversation topics, so they picked a cousin, one of their aunts and uncles, and one or both of my parents.

The boys had their first official trip to the pool recently. Whilst modesty is important to us, we understand that not everybody keeps to the same standards, and visits to public spaces like our community pool is a great lesson for the boys. We've prioritised swimming lessons for the boys since in the warmer months we do spend time at the pool and swimming in lakes, Mason and I agreed that it was a necessary expense for peace of mind in terms of the boys safety.

Madelynn and Molly took on the brave task of getting the boys to the pool and supervising them whilst they swam. Molly has been in Willowcreek to get their new house set up as well as get registered with our local birthing centre. The boys have been loving having their auntie here, and with me being in the last stages of pregnancy, she and Madelynn offered to take all the older boys out to the pool so I can finish up my nesting projects. Tabitha is at home with a toddler and an infant, so she sat this one out. Molly is in her first trimester and thankfully doesn't have morning sickness that bad, I was so grateful that she even wanted to take the boys out to go sit in the heat. The boys came back with such great stories and were begging their auntie Molly for another trip to the pool. I've started getting braxton hicks, so to be even more helpful, Angie came and took the younger boys for a bit to give me even more solid work time. Baby could come any day now and I'm excited for the house to have a newborn again!

[whentherewerebicycles]

also I KNOW that all my college and high school friends are not actually announcing pregnancies or births at a higher rate than usual I’m just more hypersensitive/attuned to this kind of news than usual but also sometimes I feel an uncontrollable rage in my heart towards these people who are 1) getting pregnant for free and 2) getting pregnant, period. I recognize this as an irrational and unfair emotional reaction! it’s not like these people can help being straight and/or having uncomplicated pregnancies! but also I can burn with suppressed rage and grief about it!!!

[tech-girl-swagbattle]

Ok so I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff lately so that’s why I haven’t been able to make the bracket and post things yet and i think it might be like a week or two until i am able to actually start the tournament just a heads up.

[anitalianfrie]

13 & 14 for the ask game?

Fears?

Many. Most predominant as of now is not being able to get good enough grades in order to graduate high school with the maximum grade avaliable and therefore loosing the 500 € bonus that comes with it and that I need to stop burdening my parents so much

Favourite colour?

Yellow :))

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

You’re My Baby Too

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.

First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.

You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.

You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.

"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.

"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.

"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."

“Thank you.” You glared at him.

He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.

When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.

You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.

"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.

"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"

"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."

"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.

"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.

"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."

And boy oh boy was it painful.

When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.

You were sweating.

Crying.

Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.

You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.

"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."

He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.

He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.

Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.

"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.

"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."

When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.

"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.

"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."

"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.

"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"

Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.

He was so perfect. So worth it.

Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.

Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.

He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.

"Lan?"

"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"

"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."

"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."

You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"

"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"

"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."

"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"

"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."

"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."

"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."

"Lan.." You chuckled.

"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "

"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"

"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.

"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.

"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.

You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.

[starmocha]

Sunday Reset [Sylus/Reader ★ 4348 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Lazy morning in bed with Sylus and your daughter. A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I guess I’m giving everyone a present instead. 🥹 I know Sylus’ myth had wrecked us all completely, so I’ve brought the fluff. This is a standalone one-shot and not meant to follow any existing series I have. But I won’t stop you if you want to think differently lol

“Hmm…”

You opened your eyes, blinking a few times before your sight adjusted, seeing the empty space in bed next to you. Still fuzzy minded, you wondered where Sylus was, since normally on the weekends, he would adjust his sleep schedule to match yours. Absentmindedly, your hand skimmed down your stomach, pausing when you felt the slight curve, causing you to breath in quickly. You pulled the cover back and stared down at the small bump that had formed just recently.

You were close to entering your second trimester, and your belly was already rounding out again. Even though this was your second pregnancy, it didn’t make this moment any less surreal.

While you and Sylus had discussed in the past about your future family, you both were not actively pursuing it, but also not taking any precautions. When you began having symptoms, you felt like your world had stopped. A few pregnancy tests later, and your suspicion was confirmed. Delighted, you had planned the perfect way of revealing the news to your husband.

You had sent a little messenger birdie his way, tasking her with a very important message and a polaroid she needed to pass onto him.

You still remembered the moment. You had recorded it, after all, having the foresight that this was a memory you wanted to preserve forever. You had recorded your two-year-old daughter scampering down the long hallway to her father’s study, a look of complete urgency on her face, feeling proud that her mother believed she was capable of delivering such an important news to her father. In her tiny hand was a polaroid she had grasped firmly, determined to not let it slip away.

Barging into his study, the toddler had rushed over to her father, exclaiming, “Message for you!”

Sylus had laughed, always delighted to see his daughter. “Oh?” He had humored her, eyes twinkling with joy and mischief when he had seen her serious expression. “Now who sent this messenger birdie my way?”

“Mommy!”

He had laughed again, the richness of it still ringing in your ears even now. You recalled seeing him peeked up at the wide opening of his study now, undoubtedly noticing your presence outside, but he had said nothing, his entire attention was redirected to the little girl who had climbed onto his lap.

“What is Mommy’s message then?” he had asked, giving a tender stroke of his daughter’s cheek. She giggled.

“Mommy…Mommy…said…she’s…having…a bun.”

You remembered stifling a giggle, already guessing how your short message was going to be butchered completely.

Sylus had looked confused. “She’s…having a bun? For breakfast?” he had questioned, utterly lost by his daughter’s message.

She shook her head furiously. “Oven! In her oven!”

“…she’s making buns?”

His daughter had frowned and shook her head again before shoving the polaroid she held into his face. “Mommy said to give you this!”

Sylus’ face had gone completely white, his breathing stopping instantly in that moment as he looked at the polaroid of five pregnancy tests lined up neatly on the bathroom counter. All positive.

“…Bun in her oven,” he had repeated, clarity seemingly settling in now. Slowly, his face had broken into a grin. His head dropped, and his chest rumbled with laughter. The little girl sitting on his lap looked at her father confused, wondering if he had gone crazy. Sylus playfully pinched her cheek, making her giggled and whined. Sylus’ voice had dropped to a whisper, almost as if he was conversing with the little girl about a special secret, “A baby…Mommy’s having a baby?”

The girl had nodded excitedly.

“You’re going to be a big sister?”

“Yes!”

Sylus had looked overjoy. “The best big sister,” he then said, leaning down to kiss his daughter’s cheek. He had looked up, his excitement instantly recorded by the phone camera indiscreetly held up outside his study. He sighed in resignation. “Sweetie, enough. I know you’re there. Care to confirm this very important message for me?”

You had turned your phone off, ending the recording. You stepped into his office, smiling sheepishly as you ran a hand over your still flat belly. “We’re having another baby,” you had said plainly, but there was enough weight in your words that made both you and your husband overwhelmed with indescribable happiness.

Sylus had sighed, a look of pure bliss on his face. He adjusted his daughter and patted his lap. “Come here,” he had said, “Let me hold you.”

His head dropped again, face nuzzling his daughter’s. “Both of you.”

Your mind returned to the present, the sweet memory lingering another moment as you remembered the way Sylus’ large hand had rested on your then flat belly, covering it completely. He was so ecstatic. You had seen the way his eyes gleamed with joy at the very idea of you going through another pregnancy again. He had certainly enjoyed it the first time around, you recalled wryly, giving your belly a rub and remembering how he had doted on you, unable to keep his hands off of you.

You sighed and turned to look at the empty space next to you again, but before your thought could proceed any further, you suddenly felt a wave of nausea hitting you out of nowhere. You covered your mouth, stumbling out of bed and racing for the bathroom, and just in the nick of time, you managed to hurl straight into the toilet, groaning as you clutched the sides. Once you felt it was over, you slowly gotten up and went over to the sink to wash up. You looked down at your belly and frowned, your breathing a little labored now.

You steadied your breathing again, sighing in defeat.

This baby was not going to make it easy on you. The first pregnancy had seemed like such a breeze with minimal morning sickness or any of the typical symptoms. This one, however, you were feeling anything and everything from the morning sickness that seemed to come at all hours to intense fatigue that robbed you of any energy to do anything.

Sighing again, you walked over and turned on the shower, letting the water warmed up as you went about brushing your teeth first.

About twenty minutes later, you left the bathroom, changed into new comfortable lounge clothes and feeling more refreshed than earlier. You walked down the hallways to your daughter’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to check in on the little girl. You could hear quiet sniffling and whimpering.

“Baby?” You made your way over to her bed, sitting down just as the little girl sat up and crawled into your arms, whimpering quietly. You felt her forehead. It was warmer than the night before. You and Sylus had noticed she had seemed to be coming under the weather the previous night, having little energy and no appetite for her dinner.

“I want Daddy…” She sobbed into your chest, her small hand grasping the fabric of your shirt to rub between her fingers.

You rubbed the back of her head soothingly, giving her a kiss. “Okay, let’s go find Daddy,” You answered gently, slowly getting up. You balanced her on the side of your hip as you carried her out of the room. She clung to you tightly like a little koala bear, and you soothed her with your soft, gentle voice as you walked down the long hallways.

On your way, you noticed Mephisto flying overhead outside Sylus’ study.

“Mephie,” You called out to the mechanical crow, “Is Sylus in his study?”

The crow cawed in the affirmative and led you to the room. The door was opened ajar, and you pushed it open further, peeking in to see Sylus at his desk on the phone. He noticed you and motioned you in as he wrapped up the call.

“Daddy…Daddy…” Your daughter sobbed harder and twisted in your arms, turning to hold out her own arms to reach for her father.

Sylus ended the call and stood up to walk over to you two. He immediately took his daughter into his arms, the little girl’s head rested on his shoulder as she clung to her father tightly. He rubbed her back soothingly before glancing over to you with a look of concern.

“She seems worse than last night,” he commented.

You nodded and stepped closer. “I think she’s coming down with a fever.”

“Poor little birdie,” Sylus said, and stroked the back of his daughter’s head gently. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed, Little Miss.”

“No!” The girl clung tighter to Sylus. “I want Daddy…and Mommy…”

You both laughed in resignation.

“Okay, okay,” Sylus conceded immediately, “You have both Daddy and Mommy…”

He glanced down at you again. “And how are you feeling?”

You looked at him confused.

“Your morning sickness,” he clarified.

You rubbed your small bump and forced a smile. “I’m okay.”

Sylus saw through your attempt to deflect, and he immediately reprimanded you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, “I know this pregnancy hasn’t been easy on you. Be honest.”

You sighed guiltily, and nodded in reluctance. “I had a bit of morning sickness earlier,” you confessed. “Is it supposed to be this difficult this time around?”

He looked at you sympathetically, before pulling you into his embrace, holding both you and his daughter close to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I wish there was a way for me to lessen this burden on you.”

You sighed and snuggled closer, settling happily into his warm embrace. “I lucked out the first time, so this time I’m getting to experience what I had missed out…twofold,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of self-depreciating humor. It seemed to work, because Sylus also cracked a smile, picking up on your intention.

“Why don’t I put my two little ladies to bed to rest,” he suggested, already leading you out of his study.

“Well, she needs to rest, but why do I have to, too?”

Sylus looked at you pointedly. “Haven’t you been feeling fatigued lately?”

“Well, yes…”

“And you said work has been exhausting?”

“Also yes…”

“And it’s a Sunday…”

“Yes…?”

Sylus huffed in amusement at your confused expression. “Why don’t we have a lazy Sunday in bed as a family?” He looked over at his daughter sniffling against his shoulder, her face rubbing against him in discomfort. He rubbed her back again to soothe her. “I think we could all use a little extra rest this morning.”

“Fine, you have a point,” you answered with a smile. His suggestion did sound appealing to you, not minding a lazy morning in bed, especially with the people you loved. You blinked in surprise when he handed you your daughter. You balanced her on your hip again, soothing her when she started to fuss again at the loss of her father’s embrace.

“You two get settled in bed,” Sylus said, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

You didn’t question him and just nodded, as you both turned to head in opposite directions. As you headed to your bedroom, you heard wings flapping, seeing Mephisto following you. You smiled.

“Gonna rest with us as well, Mephie?”

The crow cawed happily.

You laughed. You opened the door to your bedroom, smiling as Mephisto flew in and settled on his perch. He preened his feathers for a moment before he seemed to doze off. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was a mechanical crow, you mused, since his behaviors were so lifelike.

“Sweet dreams,” you told the crow as you walked over to the bed and placed your daughter in the middle before you settled in as well, turning to rest on your side. You propped your head up, leaning against your hand while your other free hand stroked your daughter’s head soothingly.

“Mommy…”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy has to do something really quick,” you explained, “He’ll be back in a moment. Try to rest for a bit, my darling.”

The little girl moaned softly, clearly in discomfort. She curled up close to you, resting against your small bump. You held her close and sighed. You always felt so helpless whenever she was sick, feeling like you never could do enough to assuage her illness. If you could take away all of her pain, you would do it in a heartbeat.

“Shh, shh, it’ll be okay,” You whispered, holding her close. It was just one child right now, but you wondered how overwhelmed you would be when the baby arrived and you were dealing with two young children. You sighed again, knowing that was a bridge you would cross in your immediate future.

Footsteps sounded from outside the room, and a few seconds later, you saw your husband returning. Looking up, you were surprised to see Sylus returning to the bedroom carrying a tray. On it was a little pink sippy cup with playful green dinosaurs imprinted all around and orange juice inside it. Alongside your daughter’s drink was a steaming cup of ginger tea and a plate of peeled and cutup apple slices. Sylus set the tray on the nightstand as he sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your daughter into his arms. The little girl settled against her father, fussing softly. He stroked her hair comfortingly.

“You should both have a little something for your stomachs,” Sylus explained, carefully handing you the cup of tea. He grabbed the sippy cup and nudged it closer to his daughter, but she pushed it away, whining quietly in annoyance. His tone was gentle, but still firm, explaining to the sick toddler, “You won’t get better if you don’t drink this orange juice, baby.”

The girl whined again before reluctantly letting her father nudged the sippy cup into her little hands. She barely held onto it, making Sylus grasped it before the cup fell on the floor. He gently pushed the cup closer, watching as his daughter took little sips.

“Good girl,” he praised before glancing over at you. His eyes darted to the cup of tea in your hands. “You, too.”

You laughed at his firm tone. “Will I get the same treatment if I whine?”

His eyes twinkled mischievously. “If I recall correctly,” he started, his tone dropping low briefly and his eyes darted to your slightly rounded belly, “The last time I gave you ‘special treatment’…was how you ended up in this current situation.”

You blushed prettily under his impish gaze before hissing quietly, “Not in front of our child.”

“Children,” he corrected you with an insufferable smirk. He reached over to the plate of apples, grabbing a slice as he carefully fed it to his daughter. The girl took little bites, chewing slowly, unaware of her parents’ conversation.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your tea. “You are lucky you are holding her right now,” you said, tone half-serious, but inside you were melting at the sight of him taking care of your daughter so diligently, “Otherwise, I would be beating you with this pillow.”

He laughed, believing you completely. The sick little girl on his lap slumped against him, giving in to her exhaustion as she fell back to sleep. Picking her up, Sylus carried her over to his side of the bed, and as he settled in, he placed his daughter down in the center with both you and him on either side of her. You picked up your daughter’s hand, holding onto it comfortably.

“Poor little thing,” you said. “We should give her some medicine after she rests for a bit.”

Sylus felt her forehead with the back of his hand, and nodded. “Just a little cold,” he said, “A little rest and some medicine and soon she will be back to wreaking havoc at Onychinus’ base.”

You giggled and settled back down in bed. You and Sylus both watched as the little girl slept, her soft breathing heard in the silence. She curled up closer to you again, resting as near to you as she could in spite of your small belly you now carried. You smiled, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness as you held her close.

“Motherhood looks gorgeous on you,” Sylus’ soft murmur broke the silence. He smiled at you lovingly.

You smiled back. “Fatherhood doesn’t look that bad on you either.”

He shook his head, laughing quietly. He pulled you and his daughter closer, the both of you resting within his protective embrace. “Another baby…” he said softly, “Another baby…I still can’t believe it. There’s another baby growing inside you.”

You peered up curiously. “Having any regrets?”

“God no,” he answered back, pinching your cheek playfully.

“Ah—”

He stole your lips, kissing you long and slow. There was a soft hum of approval in the back of his throat when he heard the little gasps and whimpers from you in between the kisses. When he pulled away from your lips, he continued upwards, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then pressing his lips to your forehead. You felt the lingering tingles of where his lips were, your cheeks pinking under his knowing gaze.

“I love you,” he said with a sigh, “Thank you for this. For everything…”

“I didn’t do anything,” you answered feebly with a pout.

Sylus hummed softly. He stroked your cheek. “Sweetie, you have given me so much and more.”

His hand drifted down, resting over your belly. It lingered there as his eyes wandered from his sleeping daughter and over to where his second child was now growing in your womb.

“Do you want a boy this time?”

“Hm?” Sylus looked up distractedly, meeting your curious gaze. You repeated the question, and he huffed quietly, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered. He gave your belly another gentle rub. “I’d be happy with a boy or another girl.”

You weren’t aware that you were pouting at his response, at least not until he pinched your cheek again, laughing as he asked teasingly, “What? Are you upset by my answer?”

“A little…” you admitted as you rubbed your cheek. You gave him a slight glare, but he seemed unbothered, his smile widening a little.

“Why? Did you want me to say a boy then?”

You paused, pondering, before grinning at him. “Wouldn’t you think a little mini-you would be adorable to have as well?”

“A mini-Sylus?” he questioned, astonished. He smirked, his curiosity piqued. “Then, sweetie, what does a mini-Sylus look like in your eyes?”

“Hmm…” You considered his question carefully before answering. The contemplative expression you wore garnered a smile from Sylus, clearly amused by the level of importance you had bestowed upon his impromptu question. A moment later, you spoke, “He would be confident…fearless…attentive…”

Sylus watched with amusement as you listed off the numerous traits you had in your mind. He hadn’t truly expected you to give this such a serious consideration, but the way your eyes softened as you spoke sincerely filled him with warmth. He leaned over, kissing you suddenly and stopping you in the middle of your listing.

“Ah—Sylus?”

He hummed softly and pecked your lips again really quick. “Sorry, you just looked so cute, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, but his tone sounded anything but apologetic. He continued to hum softly, his hand stroking down your side, as he was also mindful of the sleeping child between the two of you.

“Boy or girl,” Sylus started, his softened gaze resting on you, “I truly would not mind either one.”

You closed your eyes as he leaned in closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked at him again, smiling as he looked down at his daughter sleeping in the middle, his hand brushing aside the flyaway hair in the toddler’s face. He brushed his thumb against her mouth, wiping away the little drool that dribbled at the corner.

“This time next year,” you began, catching his attention once more, “There will be two little ones sleeping in our bed with us.”

He chuckled in amusement, seemingly delighted by the prospect. “Then it’s a good thing this bed is big enough for them—and more.”

“More?”

“Only if you want more,” Sylus added, amused by your curious gaze. He smiled sympathetically, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek in comfort. “I know this pregnancy has been a little rougher than your first one.”

Your hand overlapped his, the gentle warmth emanated from him carried away your worries. “Well, that is a thought to consider,” you said, adding, “I mean we certainly make beautiful babies, so saying ‘no’ right away would be a shame…”

“And we have plenty of fun making them,” he added with a suggestive tone and lift of his brow, making you blushed.

“Oh, you—”

He leaned in, seizing your lips again, stealing your words and breath in one quick instance. When he parted, his mouth lingered near, his voice carrying shades of sensuality. “And you always look so, so fucking gorgeous pregnant with my baby.”

Your heartbeat skipped, breath a little heavier than it was seconds ago. Your mind struggled to stay in the moment with him, still gripped by his intense kisses and the desirous gaze he had. “L-language,” you chided him, his immediate soft chuckles made your heart pound faster.

“Sorry,” he said with absolutely no remorse heard in his voice, “I couldn’t help it. You know how I feel about you pregnant. Besides, she’s still asleep…”

“Toddlers are like sponges, you never know what they’ll repeat,” you added firmly, though you couldn’t help but blushed at the memories of your first pregnancy and how much he had worshiped you in that state, treating you like a fertility goddess, revering the changes your body had gone through to carry his baby. It seemed history would repeat itself this time around as well, knowing Sylus was only going to fall even deeper in love with you. The look in his crimson eyes was both gratitude and desire, his restraints only held back because you two were not alone in this moment.

“I concede then,” he answered, adding mischievously, “For now.”

Your daughter turned in her sleep, curling up close to Sylus this time. He laughed softly, gently pulling her closer to him, his large hand resting lightly on her small back. He gazed down fondly at his daughter, and then he looked at you, smiling as he watched your hand skimmed over your belly.

“Thank you,” he repeated again, “For this beautiful life you have given me.”

“Sylus…”

“You must know very well that you and the children are my whole world,” he said, his voice warm and his eyes reflecting his deep devotion to you.

Before you could respond, your daughter stirred in her sleep, waking up. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as you and Sylus both looked down at the sick toddler with unruly hair now.

“How are you feeling now, my little birdie?” Sylus asked, rubbing her cheek gently.

“…tired…”

You both chuckled at the lackluster single-word response.

“That’s alright,” you told her, kissing her cheek, “Sleeping will also make you feel better. Would you like some more juice, my darling?”

She nodded sleepily and you reached over to the nightstand to grab the sippy cup. You helped her drink before setting the cup back in its place. The little girl rubbed her eyes and mumbled sleepily again, “Daddy…lullaby please?”

He huffed in amusement. “But Mommy doesn’t like Daddy’s singing…”

“Oh! Don’t make me be the villain!”

Sylus laughed off your glare. “Who said my singing voice was like nails on a chalkboard?” He leaned down and kissed his daughter on top of her head. “At least someone in this room has a well-defined taste and sincere appreciation for my lovely singing voice.”

The little girl pouted, not understanding the conversation between you and Sylus. She looked at her father pleadingly, tugging on his sleeve. “Daddy? Please?”

“Ask Mommy,” Sylus said, smirking at how you had widened your eyes at him, not believing that he would turn on you like this.

Your daughter immediately looked to you, lips quivering. “Mommy…please?”

You sighed and nodded, relenting to your daughter’s little plea. “Daddy can sing you a lullaby…”

You glared at Sylus again, seeing how tickled he was to see you cornered like this. You mentally made a note to get back at him at another date, but for now, you and your daughter both settled back down in bed as Sylus sang.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word…Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird…”

The little girl let her heavy eyelids drift close again, turning to face you once more. You stroked her head, lulling her into a deeper sleep as Sylus sang her lullaby to her.

“And if that mockingbird don't sing,” Sylus continued, his own head resting on his pillow, his eyes shifting back and forth from his daughter to you, “Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring…”

The morning dragged on with afternoon just a few hours away. The soon-to-be family of four slumbered peacefully in bed together. Sylus’ soft lazy singing filled the silence, the warmth in his voice wrapped around you, filling you with a gentle peace.

How peculiar, you thought, finding his singing voice actually…pleasant to listen to today. Perhaps there was a reason your daughter was so fond of her father’s singing. There was a strong sense of security you felt from hearing his voice, knowing he would never let anything or anyone harm you.

You looked at him through sleepy eyes, the fatigue from your pregnancy claiming you once more. You smiled, seeing his own eyes drifting close as he yawned in between the last few verses before slipping off to sleep, the lullaby ending abruptly. Between the two of you, your daughter snored softly, snuggled close to you and the baby you carried in your womb.

You let your eyes close, falling deeper into sleep, the sweet dream you had unmatched by the wonderful life you had with your beloved.

[writingwisterias]

Each Era of Leon finding out about your pregnancy:

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Self- Doubt, Light Angst, Drinking, Alcoholism, Depression,

RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, Vendetta, RE6, Death Island

RE2:

You found out before he was set to go to transfer to Raccoon City.

Leon went ahead before you, falling into his old drinking habits making him feel awful. He spent the night in a Motel as he frantically tried to find a living situation for you both before you moved out with him.

Once that was settled, he was due to start his new job, only to be faced with the events of Raccoon City. He spent the entire night thanking the heavens you hadn't come out to him yet.

It was radio silence from him for weeks, he had given you a panicked phone call asking you to move in with your parents and he would try to get back, news slowly filtered into your town about the nuke going off. With the pregnancy hormones, it was a rough first trimester.

You didn't actually get to tell him until he showed up on your doorstep looking different, his eyes were tired and almost looked empty like he was being haunted by something.

He sat you down in your room, talking to you about everything. His head was in your lap as he silently wept mourning the loss of his life he was so sure was going to happen.

You broke the news then, pulling out a box full of tests that you had kept.

He was silent at first. His eyes were puffy and red as he stared at the stick in his fingers.

He wanted to give you an over-the-moon reaction but his fear was justified, he had just seen nightmares...living nightmares and now he was meant to bring in a child to this world.

You knew about his promise to the government to protect that little girl, that is how you knew he was going to be a good dad...was still a good person even if he didn't seen it yet.

Before he was sent off to his training, with a final kiss he promised to come back to you no matter what...back to the both of you. His way of telling you he had accepted his new title and a silent promise that he would do everything in his power to be there for the both of you as much as possible. Even with the circumstances.

RE4R:

You had known Leon for a while meeting him in the office with Hunnigan as you helped her deal with the long night on the Spain mission.

Neither of you had actually made anything official, Leon wasn't in the right headspace for that title. Which is why it was a panic when you saw you were pregnant a week after he came back from Spain.

Apparently in your drunken celebrations of him not dying you both forgot about protection.

Leon was still being thrown into work so the only time you really saw him was around the office or before he was sent away. Yet he still noticed something was wrong.

You were running to the bathroom more often and spent breaks at your desk instead of the break room. Avoided certain foods he knew you loved.

Eventually, he felt the need to ask you. What better way to do that than to send an ominous text about him coming over.

You were nervous, panicking thinking he wanted sex and if you could even keep up with him due to your extreme amounts of fatigue.

He was chill when you answered the door, expression gentle...even smiling compared to the normal brooding look he displayed.

Then came the question 'Are you okay?'

Hormones got the best of you there and it all came spilling out. He took it like a champ bringing you into his body to comfort you. (I like to think after Ashley he became more open to physical affection if he initiated it.)

Suspect he's silent with shock as he tries to process things. Probably making you feel worse. Eventually, he talks explaining that he's happy for it and I think it would be the final push for him to actually commit to you and use titles.

Goes home and feels all giddy inside; he's still young and this just gives him something else to keep fighting for

Infinite Darkness:

He's not given up fully yet with life, still has a spring in his step but he's busy. Really busy.

In what others would say is the height of his career he wouldn't be able to commit to a relationship really, optionally sleeping around instead.

He's hot and he knows it

Ending with a similar situation to RE4 Leon where it's really unexpected. You find out whilst he's there though, I imagine the relationship he has with you is more friends with benefits.

You were going to do it that night anyway he just interrupted. You had taken the test and were waiting for the results when he knocked on the door.

You answered and forgot about the test on the side, both of you getting lost in the TV etc.

He went to the bathroom and saw the test, he saw the results first. However, he doesn't know if you are sleeping with anyone other than him so he doesn't say anything.

It's not until you go to the bathroom that you remember and have your own mini freak out. You come back into the living room, face paled and tears in your eyes.

He offers comfort anyway, being respectful and waiting for you to tell him if you want to.

It slips out anyway.

He's scared at first and goes slightly frigid. I don't think he's really in a place to want the child so he tries to be respectful and working on your terms.

Despite not being ready to enter a relationship I think he would do it for you, every other person is a one-night stand compared to you he comes back for more. Even promises to stop sleeping around.

You try a relationship, ignoring the pregnancy, to begin with until everything sort of clicks in place. When it does he's super excited.

Buying all the books and anything you might need; if he's going to work lots might as well spend it on making sure you and his babe get a good start.

RE6:

I'd say things are where his life really starts to tip. He's a fugitive for months, pretends to be dead etc and afterwards, I think it's where he starts to go downhill.

That being said, you are already in a relationship with him and have been for a while. He's not sure how he got you but he did. It's been about 2 years since you got together.

You know what he does for work and you both try to do what's best for each other and that works well for the both of you.

You find out before the beginning of RE6, meaning when you hear a knock on the door you expect to find him coming home with some corny joke only to be met with the flag and 2 agents.

You fall into a slump, trying your best to keep going for the little one he gifted you before he died; watching the horrors on the news wondering if it's even worth doing without him.

So when you get a knock on the door around 2 months into the pregnancy you are shocked, angry and happy. I'm surprised Leon didn't get whiplash.

You knew it was not his fault, he had no other option and you're very glad he's okay.

But you are mad...very mad.

He hates that he's done this to you, falling heavily into his drinking when you've gone to bed. For the pain he caused you and the events themselves still haunt you.

The relationship would have failed if it wasn't for the baby being in the equation. So he works to keep it under control and you slowly pull yourself out of the depression you fell into.

Slowly you work it out together, moving only forward until you calm down and are ready for the next chapter.

Damnation:

Poor guy barely gets his pussy breakfast with the amount he's still being sent out.

He's genuinely surprised he even made a child with the amount of quick fucks he's had with you instead of the long loving sessions he assumed he would have had should you both make the decision to start trying.

When you tell him at first he's over the moon, probably actually gives you the biggest reaction off the bat out of all the eras.

However, that's until he's left with his thoughts. You're laying in his arms, his hand is resting on your stomach and he starts to doubt himself.

He's thinking about if he would be a good dad, is he going to treat you well, can he commit to you as much as he would want to.

Full-blown panic mode

You noticed, of course you did. Always observant. And you force him to talk about, set aside the bottle and actually voice the concerns allowed.

Then once he's calmed, he'll go back to being happy. Already boasting about it at work.

Vendetta:

Despite this being the worst time period of his life. Where everything just feels too much. I don't think he would react negatively or refuse to accept it in any way.

I think he just thinks he won't be able to be a good dad and it sours his mood even further.

You both took the test together after you raised concerns about your period. He went out and got them, the whole ordeal feeling strange. His stomach is gurgling and swirling but not because of the alcohol for once.

He's so happy to be a dad that he is now just panicking about it but in a way where he's more worried for you. And what could go wrong with you.

At this point you are the one constant thing in his life, the only thing he keeps actually going for. Anyone could reference you when they mention a mission to him and he's all for it. You are the reason he keeps beating and going.

So he goes down the rabbit hole of the worst that could happen. Googling things, reading them in books, the doctors talking.

He's in Colorado not because he wanted to leave you alone but because he just needed a minute.

Chris helps him get up, trust that you'll be okay. And to fight one last fight.

When he does he's fighting for you and the baby, it's so worth it when he comes back. Arms full of things for you.

And he really kicks in to get sober now, to better himself for you and the baby, to ensure he can be the best dad he can be.

Death Island:

He was prepared for this. It's a little later than he wanted, but his life has never really been his.

When you proposed the idea he wasn't keen at first considering himself too old to have children, then he got carried away with his thoughts and he needed to do it.

Like he was insatiable until you were pregnant.

When you were, he was over the moon. Telling everyone the next day; sending you flowers and bringing home treats. You are a goddess now and he will treat you as such.

He's reading all the books and knows more than you at this point.

I feel like he's the type to try and cook food based on the baby's measurements that week and either he's a really good cook meaning it's great or it's just nice he tried.

He's getting all the adverts on Facebook etc about useful products and buying with other a second thought even if they are a scam.

He's already planning out the nursery with you. Like you need to take away his access to money at this point.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

----------------------------

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

-------------------------------

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

------------------------------

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

-----------------------------

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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@glenpowellluver

[itadodori]

babydaddy!sukuna who got you pregnant purely out of jealousy. he was sick of everyone trying to steal you away from him, did they not know who the fuck he was? one thing about your husband was.. he always got what he wanted. that’s why when you were in your 2nd trimester— tits growing rapidly, nipples sore, and milk staining through every shirt you owned.. he couldn’t control himself anymore.

“fuck, girl..” sukuna’s right hand cupped your tit, he made sure to rip that annoying shirt off before hand, it got in his way too much. “making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

your mouth was stuck in an o shape— unable to make out any words. your breasts were so sore over the past few weeks.. you constantly told sukuna that they were tender to the touch but he never cared.

“k..kuna no. y’know ‘m sore, it hurts.” your hands met his, trying to gently pry them away but they were way too big. they wouldn’t budge an inch.

before you knew it his head was rested in your neck— leaving rough kisses on the soft skin.

“shh mama, it’s okay, gonna make it feel all better..” he flipped you over gently, making sure you were on your side since he knew any other position was bad for the baby.

“pretty ass tits.. all swollen n’ shit.” sukuna grinned while rubbing his finger over your inflated nipple, squeezing it in his hands, watching your milk spill out.

he swore he could’ve came right then and there.

“oh shit! kuna i c..can’t!” you felt like your breast were going to fall off, especially since you weren’t used to this feeling.

you just started your 2nd trimester— and that’s usually when your boobs hurt the most during pregnancy.

“my poor princess, want me to suck on it instead..? hmm?” you immediately nodded. you were willing to let him do anything to relieve this aching pain.

“such a nasty girl.” by now sukuna’s mouth was latched onto your nipple, slowly sucking until liquid came out. he swore your milk tasted like heaven and he regretted waiting this long to try it.

your hands gripped his hair tight once he brung his hand up to your neck— slightly squeezing it as he continued. if you knew it would’ve felt this good you would’ve let him do this ages ago. all those times you were complaint about being sore could’ve been avoided.

sukuna took a moment to analyze your features— loving the way your body jerked whenever he sucked a little too hard. god, he was going to have to get you pregnant again after this. “doin’ so good for me, mama.. just let me drink.”

yeah, you knew this definitely wouldn’t be your last time carrying his kid.

all rights reserved ©itadodori ♡

[astral-catastrophe]

I am going to make poor decisions in regards to my class schedule

[corroded-hellfire]

Hail to the Princess - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: Halloween is here and all of the Munson children are excited. Putting a little makeup on your husband gets you excited as well.

Note: Happy Halloween!

Warnings: pregnant!reader

Words: 3.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Autumn was always the best season in Indiana. There’s a chill in the air, but there’s no bitter cold. The leaves turn beautiful colors and float down gently to meet the earth. All the spiced scents and soft clothes make it such a cozy time. Not to mention…Halloween.

The spooky holiday was always a favorite in the Munson household. You can still remember the very first Halloween after you met Eddie and the boys. You dressed up as a fairy, Ryan as Scooby Doo, Luke as a pirate, and Eddie decided to be boring and not don a costume. He also wasn’t planning on wearing one tonight when he takes Luke and Eliza out. 

Usually, both of you liked to go out with the kids—it was always fun to see them so excited and to check out the costumes of other trick-or-treaters darting from house to house. But this year, the end of your first trimester has you exhausted. This pregnancy seems to be making you even more tired than the first one did. Some days you barely have the energy to keep up with your rambunctious four-year-old when she gets home from school. 

This year, Ryan is going to a Halloween party at one of his friend’s houses. Eddie was a little nervous when he first heard the news, but you calmed him down by reminding him that Ryan is a good kid. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t trust Ryan, though–it’s that he doesn’t trust the other kids. But he has to let his son be a teenager.

Luke’s best friend has the flu, so instead of Sean joining your kids to go around your neighborhood, it’s just going to be the brother and sister duo. Plus Eddie, of course. 

Since you don’t get to go out and see Eliza and Luke in action (or Ryan, for that matter) this time around, you all decided that you will help them with any hair or makeup that needs to be done as part of their costumes. 

The moment she steps foot in the house after school, Eliza wants to start getting ready. After a quick shared snack of cut up grapes and pretzels, the transformation begins.

The first step for Eliza is to take a bath and wash her hair. Your headstrong daughter told you that she wanted straight hair because she doesn’t want her crown to snag in her curls. You can’t blame her honestly—you remember the tiara debacle from her second birthday. 

But to achieve your little girl’s request, you have to use a blow dryer to give her a proper blow out. You had no clue how to do this, so thank God for YouTube. You must’ve watched every tutorial you could find—which was not a lot, honestly—on blow drying a child’s spiral curls. 

Surprisingly, Eliza is calm and patient while you do your best to remember advice from the videos. The four-year-old sits in a chair parked in front of your vanity as you buzz around behind her. The plethora of clips you have prepared to section off the hair lay in front of Eliza, practically begging for her to pick them up and play with them. And being four, that’s exactly what she does.

“Okay, here we go,” you say once you have every section of hair parted like you want. “Ready?”

Eliza gives you a thumbs up in the mirror, a neon green hair clip on the tip of her finger. 

Drying the first few chunks of hair makes you feel a bit uncoordinated and wish you had a few more hands to help out, but once you get into the groove, you find the blowing out pretty easy. It also makes Eliza’s hair soft and silky, the strands running through your fingers like a cool breeze. 

“It feels so pretty!” Eliza exclaims once you’ve finished her entire head. She laughs as she runs her fingers through her straightened hair. Neither of you have seen it this way before. Of course she looks absolutely beautiful, but you do miss her curls. 

Eliza hops down from the chair and looks up at you, batting her unfairly long eyelashes. 

“Now makeup?” she asks, voice syrupy sweet.

You let out a bark of laughter as you put your hair dryer away.

“Do you want your father to divorce me?” you joke. 

“It’s Halloween!” Eliza argues.

“I know, I know,” you say. You’re too tired to argue with her and if Eddie wants to argue later, he can say whatever he wants to your sleeping body. 

“Just a little?” Eliza holds her thumb and forefinger half an inch away from one another. 

“Just a little,” you acquiesce. 

You pat the seat in front of your vanity and Eliza climbs back up. She continues to admire her straight locks as you dig out your makeup bag. 

“Okay,” you say as you rifle through it. A pale blush catches your eye and you scoop that out along with a coral lipstick. You’re not going to put any eye makeup on her though—you need to save your eyeliner for Luke, anyway. You hold up the two items you plucked out and show them to Eliza. “Good?”

She stretches her neck to give them the best inspection she possibly can. What she’s trying to determine, you have no idea. Eventually though, she must find it.

“Good,” she affirms with a nod of her head. 

Dusting the blush on the tops of her round cheeks makes you smile. You’re having fun with this. Sure, you and girlfriends would have fun getting all dolled up when you were younger, but that doesn’t hold a candle to being able to do that with your daughter now. 

“My goodness,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you finish applying the blush. “Next thing I know you’ll be going to prom.”

Eliza giggles at this.

“Mooooom! That’s Ryan!”

You smile and nod your head in concession. Ryan will be going to his junior prom this year. 

“Alright,” you say to Eliza. “Put your lips like this.” You open your mouth, showing your daughter how to position herself best for you to apply lipstick. “This will probably come off when we have dinner, but we can reapply.”

Once you’re finished and capping the small golden tube of lipstick, Eliza examines herself in the mirror. Not just her straightened hair now, but her doe brown eyes study her face as well. An adorable, dimpled grin grows on her face, and it makes your heart swell. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Eliza Marie Munson?” 

You pick her up from the chair and hold her on your hip. She’s getting too old for this—plus, you probably shouldn’t be doing this since you’re pregnant—but you want to hold your baby girl. 

“I don’t mean just right now. Always so beautiful,” you say. “Your smile, your eyes, your hair. Your adorable little nose that I just wanna bite.” You teasingly scrape your front teeth over the tip of her nose. She giggles and pulls her face away. 

“I’m pretty like Mama,” Eliza says. 

Even if you didn’t have pregnancy hormones coursing through your body, her words would have caused the same effect. Warm tears flood your eyes, and it takes maximum effort to keep them from spilling. 

“Maybe I’m pretty like Eliza,” you say once you’re able to speak.

The little girl shakes her head, straight hair swaying like a sleek silk sheet in the wind.

“You were first!” she says.  

“You’re such a smarty.”

“I know!”

Eliza is practically vibrating in excitement when you pull her Halloween costume out of the closet. She gasps with joy when her eyes land on the pink Sleeping Beauty dress. You slip the polyester over her head and she’s quick to pull her soft, straight hair out of the way. As soon as you have the back zipped up, the little girl starts galloping around her room.

“I’m a princess, I’m a princess!”

“We’ll save the crown for later, okay, Your Majesty?” you say as you close her closet.

“Kay!”

Eliza’s galloping turns to skipping as she goes through her bedroom door and down the hallway. There’s a smile on your face as you follow her out—walking slowly in your case, though. 

“Mama? Can we watch Sleeping Beauty?” she asks once you’re in the living room with her.

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

You pop in the DVD, then plop down on the couch, your body thankful for the rest after you’ve been so active the last hour or so with Eliza. 

You’re expecting your daughter to climb up on the couch with you, but instead, she starts marching in circles between the coffee table and the television. Her costume goes schwick, schwick, schwick with every step she takes; the polyester rubbing up against itself and her short legs. 

The movie opens upon the kingdom celebrating the birth of the new princess, and Eliza begins to sing along, her step never faltering. 

Hail to the Princess Aurora

All of her subjects adore her

Hail to the King, hail to the Queen

Hail to the Princess Aurora

Health to the Princess

Wealth to the Princess

Long live the Princess Aurora

As the narrator comes back to speak, Eliza comes over and settles herself next to you on the worn couch. She sits on her knees, facing you. It’s silent for a minute—unusual for this household. Then, the small girl leans forward and rests one hand on your swollen belly.

“Mommy?” she asks.

“Yes, my love?” You tuck a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

“Ryan named me, right?”

“Well, he was the first one who suggested the name. Daddy and I are the ones who decided on it,” you explain.

She nods her head in understanding, the piece of hair you put behind her ear falling forward again with the motion. 

“Can I sugges…uh, uhjest, zuh…”

“Suggest?” you offer kindly.

“Yeah, that. Can I suh-gest a name?” she asks.

“Go ahead, sweet pea.”

Eliza leans in closer to your belly. She rubs her small hand from side to side; it almost looks like she’s a waitress trying to wipe down a table. 

“If the baby’s a girl, I think you should name her Aurora,” she declares. 

You watch as Eliza stares at your bump, like if she looks hard enough, she’ll see the baby growing beneath your layers of skin and muscles. It brings a smile to your face, how much she already cares about her little sibling. 

“I think that’s a beautiful name.” And you do, you’re not just patronizing her.

“Yeah?” Eliza’s head tilts up and she looks at you with wide eyes. Eyes so much like her father’s that it sometimes takes your breath away. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll bring it up to Daddy.” 

A proud smile grows on your daughter’s coral-painted lips. She gives one last loving pat to your belly before situating herself so she’s sitting next to you, hip to hip.

“We’re not going to know if the baby is a boy or girl until they’re born, though,” you explain before the four-year-old gets caught up in the movie again. “I have the doctors soon and they’re going to let us see a picture of the baby. But Daddy and I decided we want to be surprised.” 

“Did you know me?” Eliza asks, her head tilting to the side like an inquisitive puppy. 

“Yep! They told us you’re a girl and Daddy and I were so happy.”

A thoughtful hum emanates from the small girl as she turns her attention back to the movie. A minute later, she lifts your arm so she can snuggle into your side. You happily wrap your arm around her and enjoy the cuddles. 

When it’s time for dinner, Eliza does not want to change out of her princess costume. So, in order to keep it stain-free through the meal, you wrap her up in her fluffy pink bathrobe. She finds this hilarious and waddles to the dinner table like a pink Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. 

The moment her bottom lands in her chair, Eddie is looking at the little girl with a raised eyebrow. His gaze then shifts to you. When he pointedly looks back at Eliza, then you, you realize it’s about the makeup. But you’re going to make him say it out loud.

“What?” you ask, spearing a green bean with your fork.

“I didn’t know we had Tammy Faye coming to dinner tonight,” he says. 

You roll your eyes as all three of your kids chime in with, “Who?”

“Eliza is a princess, Eddie. She deserves the royal treatment,” you say. 

“Uh huh,” he hums before taking a sip of his water.

“What time is Chase’s mom picking you up tonight, Ryan?” you ask.

Your eldest wipes his mouth off with an already messy napkin before responding.

“Like, eight, I think.”

“Make sure his mom takes pictures of you all!” you add.

“Whatchu gonna be?” Eliza asks, twirling a green bean around on her fork.

“Me and my friends are going as The Beatles,” he tells her.

“You’re gonna be bugs?” Eliza’s eyes practically pop out of her tiny skull. 

“No,” Ryan says with a chuckle. “The Beatles are a band.”

“Yeah, you like that one song they sing,” Luke chimes in. “Desmond takes a trolley to the jeweller's store. Buys a twenty-carat golden ring. Takes it back to Molly waiting at the door and as he gives it to her, she begins to sing!”

Eliza’s eyes light up.

“Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah! La-la, how their life goes on. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah. La-la, how their life goes on!”

She wiggles in her seat as she sings, using her fork as an impromptu microphone. 

“Which Beatle are you?” Luke asks.

“George,” Ryan replies.

“Aw, is that because everyone always forgets about you, too?” Luke jokes, a smirk on his face.

Ryan shoves Luke, which only makes the younger brother laugh harder.

After dinner and once you’ve reapplied Eliza’s lipstick, the little girl sits on the edge of the bathtub and watches you do Luke’s makeup. You’re no makeup artist, but you know more than the teenage boy does, so he puts his trust in you to make him look like an authentic zombie.

It mostly consists of making his face look as sickly pale as possible and contrasting that with dark eyes. You’re pretty sure you’ve put so much eyeliner on your son that it will take him all night to scrub off. Or, knowing Luke, he’ll just leave it and try to sneak out of the house like that in the morning. Somehow, you don’t think his school would appreciate that. 

“Do you have any green stuff?” Luke asks as you cap the eyeliner.

“Green stuff? What do you mean? Like, eyeshadow?”

“Yeah! I wanna look kind of moldy.” His eager grin makes you chuckle as you rifle through your makeup bag.  

“Eww!” Eliza wrinkles up her nose.

“Well, sorry, Your Highness.” Luke says as you pull out a palette of eyeshadow containing a forest green shade. “We zombies can’t be as clean and fancy as you princesses!”

Your four-year-old stands up and smooths out the ruffles of her skirt with an air of someone five times her age. 

“Try,” is all the little girl says before walking out of the bathroom. 

You and Luke look at one another before bursting into laughter.

“How do I look?” Luke slides into the room on his socked feet with his arms held out at his sides. He’s changed into a pair of jeans that incidentally are ripped almost all the way down the left side after he tore them trying to hop over a fence. Luckily, it was only a few weeks ago, so Luke knew he could keep them for this very night. On top he’s wearing an old grease and oil-stained white t-shirt that Eddie will throw on under his coveralls for work, and an old blue and green flannel of Wayne’s that he took a pair of scissors to, so it looks ripped and ragged. 

“Wait, where’s your costume?” Ryan asks sarcastically, adjusting the black skinny tie he’s wearing. “I thought you were going to put on makeup?”

“Ha ha,” Luke deadpans while Eliza’s brow furrows.

“He does got makeup on,” she says.

“Ryan was just trying to be mean and say Luke looks like this all the time,” Eddie leans down to her on the couch to explain.

“Oh. Mean, Ryan!”

“Well, you look lovely, Your Majesty,” Ryan replies, bowing down before her.

The flattery clearly works with his little sister as she smiles proudly and kicks her feet excitedly. 

You stroll into the room just as there’s a knock on the front door.

“That’s probably Chase,” Ryan says before heading in that direction.

“Looks good, Luke,” Eddie tells his younger son. 

“I have a good makeup artist,” he replies. 

“What about Daddy?” Eliza pipes up.

“What do you mean, sweet pea?” he asks her. 

“You don’t got a costume or makeup.”

“I don’t need any,” Eddie tells her with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “I kinda agree with her.”

Your husband cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Luke, can you go grab the eyeliner from my makeup bag?”

The zombie salutes you before heading back down the hall.

As you start to slowly walk towards the couch, Eddie looks at you with an unamused expression. 

“Do I really need makeup, babe?” His voice is as flat as his interest.

“I guess you don’t need it,” you say, shrugging one shoulder. When you come to stand in front of him, you place one knee on each side of Eddie’s hips, straddling his lap. “I think you’d look really good in some eyeliner, though.” Your hands slip up into his hair, where you give a gentle tug. “Since I don’t get to go trick-or-treating, maybe that could be my treat tonight?”

Eddie’s look of disinterest quickly morphs into excitement. 

“Whatever my princess wants,” Eddie croons.

“Uh, Daddy!” Eliza complains from the cushion next to you. “I am the princess!”

“Right,” Eddie says, turning his head to look at her. “Silly me. I forgot I have two princesses tonight.”

Ryan pops back into the room, his friend Chase right on his heels, when he sees you sitting in his dad’s lap with your hands in his hair. He automatically skids to a stop and begins to turn around.

“Nope,” he says, pushing his friend back towards the front door. “Don’t wanna be here for whatever this is. I’ll be back later!”

“Be careful,” you shout after him, while Eddie calls out, “Have fun!”

Luke returns with your eyeliner, and you happily accept it from him. Eliza stands up on the couch cushion and leans against your shoulder as you take the cap off the black pencil.

“I wanna watch,” the little princess says. 

“You can be my supervisor,” you say as you adjust yourself in Eddie’s lap. “Look up,” you tell him.

Eddie lifts his chin to look at the ceiling, but you guide his head back down where it was. 

“With just your eyeballs, please,” you clarify.

Following your instructions, Eddie’s eyes look skyward as you gently pull down on the lower lid of his left eye. Your hand is steady as you run the pencil back and forth against his waterline. 

It’s a good thing two of your kids are in the room because, just having a little bit of eyeliner on, you’re already eager to jump your husband’s bones. 

“It’s a crime you don’t wear this more,” you murmur as you move your concentration to his upper eyelid.

“Well, maybe after tonight I will,” Eddie answers in a velvety tone.

“Dad, why would you—ugh, gross.” 

Eddie smirks as Luke catches on to what the two of you are alluding to. You let out a soft chuckle as you move to his other eye.

“Why don’t you have Luke put your crown on you?” You suggest to Eliza.

“Yes!” 

She quickly hops off the couch and runs over to Luke, grabs his hand, and attempts to drag him down the hallway with her. 

Eddie rests his hands on your hips as you finish up, rubbing his thumbs against the material of your sweatpants. 

“Want me to be your rockstar tonight?” Eddie asks.

“And I will be your groupie,” you say as you pop the cap back on the pencil. Arousal kicks up in you as you take in the sight of your already-sexy husband in eyeliner. “Your groupie who will let you do whatever you want to her,” you purr.

“Happy Halloween, indeed,” Eddie says, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

“You done?” Eliza asks as she bursts back into the room, her plastic golden crown perched on top of her head. “Good! Let’s go, Daddy!”

“But Mommy’s on my lap,” Eddie says.

“Mamaaaaa,” Eliza whines. “Get up!”

“Excuse me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Please,” she adds softly.

“Yeah. Please,” Luke adds as he follows his little sister back in the room.

Both you and Eddie chuckle as you slide off his lap. You press a kiss to his lips.

“Alright, you guys,” you say to all three of them, “be safe and have a good time.”

“We will!” Eliza assures you.

She picks up her pink pumpkin bucket from the coffee table and hands her older brother his blue one.

“Let’s go!”

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as the little girl marches towards the front door in her pink princess dress.

“I guess we’re going,” Luke says as he follows after her. 

Eddie presses one last kiss to your lips.

“Maybe I’ll be wearing something different when you get home,” you tease. “Something…lacier, perhaps.”

Eddie groans and drops his head back.

“I’m about to make these kids get their candy in record time,” he says.

You giggle and shove him towards the front door.

“Alright, Mr. Rockstar. Go have fun.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

Once the door closes behind the three of them, you let out a deep sigh and grab a handful of candy from the bowl that’s prepared for the trick-or-treaters. 

“How about it?” you ask your baby, looking down at your stomach. “We deserve some candy too, right? Right.”

The small batch of fun-sized candy bars fall into your lap as you plop down on the couch and grab the remote.

“Ooh, Beetlejuice,” you say as you come upon a channel playing the movie. “You’re in for a treat, kiddo. This is a good one.”

[kingsoowolves]

what comes after | jsc

pairing: college fwb!sungchan x fem!reader word count: 21.6k

author’s note: soooo, I’m back to writing after a long break. this is my first riize fic and Sungchan practically hauled this monster out of my insides until it became 21k. I wrote most of this while listening to sabrina carpenter’s new album and i think sharpest tool, juno and lie to girls fit really well with the theme of this work. english is not my first language, so please be kind if you're going to point out any mistakes. I hope you guys like this.

contents: smut. some fluff. angst, angst & angst (specially towards the end). switch!reader and switch!sungchan. sex with a condom, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving). pet names. ass man!sungchan. reader has thoughts on family trauma and self-hatred. random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. sungchan is pretty much an asshole in the end. no HEA.

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like

You feel pathetic. With a raincoat covered in water splatters and standing on your favorite white sneakers – now mud covered and wet – in front of your situationship’s apartment after ringing the doorbell, you truly feel like an idiot.

It’s been over two weeks since he last texted you and here you are, waiting for him to open his door after calling him on a whim, asking for permission to come and see him. But it was a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester and when you finished your last exam of the day and the rain started pouring down while you were on the bus on your way home, your heart made a last-minute decision to ring him up.

So now here you are, feeling pathetic.

Surprisingly, despite the radio silence for the last fortnight, the door opens quickly to reveal a worried Sungchan with a fresh and fluffy towel in his hands as he urges you inside, hand clasping over yours to pull you away from the cold and into the warmth of his home.

He closes the door with his free hand and his eyes instantly fall onto your body to inspect the damage caused by the storm, the dirt and the finals. You can’t help but feel heat under his gaze, your limbs already growing hot after being in his presence for two seconds. It’s your body's natural response to him since the day you met.

“Why didn’t you call me after you finished your exam?” are his first words to you as his hands take your bag and your raincoat off of your arms, both items falling on the floor around your ankles. “I would’ve picked you up.”

The way he says it almost makes you want to apologize for not doing it, but, in all honesty, you don’t quite believe he would’ve picked you up. Two weeks of not talking is a considerable amount of time, after all. So you bite your tongue and reply with the second thing that comes on your head instead.

“Didn’t even think about it. The rain started after I took the bus,” you say, feeling him wrap you in the towel he brought, hands pressing on your arms to make it absorb the rainwater covering you.

He stays silent as he dries you up, expertly and swiftly moving the towel over the areas of your body that were most affected by the downpour, his furrowed eyebrows showing his concentration. You have to actively stop yourself from reaching up to smooth them over, your hands itching to touch him. But in just fifteen seconds your upper half is dried and he squats down to inspect your legs.

He stops with his right hand on your left calf, looking up at you once he sees the mud covering your jeans.

“Shit, you’re a mess,” he sighs, a small chuckle coming out of his throat, too. “You’re gonna have to take a shower.”

“Oh,” you say, mind still understanding his request while your eyes focus on his. After a beat, you realize that you feel kind of insecure of showering in his place when you don’t know where you both stand on your relationship, so you shake your head. “I can go home to shower and come back later, if it’s okay with you.”

He shakes his head back at you. “No, it’s not. That’d be dumb,” he says, standing up in his full height and making you change your gaze from looking down to looking up at him. You feel a pang in your chest at the rejection, thinking he’s saying it would be stupid to come back to him after, but he smooths one hand over your shoulder and clarifies. “Why would you do that when there’s a perfectly good bathroom here you can use?”

You blink at him, your head again very slow in keeping up with his words. Maybe it’s because it’s been a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester. Maybe it’s because your last brain cell was burned while taking your international law exam. Maybe it’s being close with him again after some time, seeing his deep brown eyes, smelling his cologne and standing in his apartment that makes you so dull. Maybe it’s every one of those reasons. At this moment, you think you’re more pathetic than ever.

And you’re pretty sure Sungchan thinks you are, too, because his features crease again as he looks at you, taking a step back and tugging on your hand to come with him. “Come on. I’ll put your clothes in the washer while you shower.”

You quickly step on the heels of your shoes to take them off and follow him down the hallway to the small bathroom by the end of it. Sungchan fetches you a sealed bar of soap from the cabinet under the sink and a new fluffy towel from his dresser. Then, he waits outside of the bathroom for you to strip off your clothes and hand him every piece – hoodie, shirt, pants, undergarments and socks – through the half open door. He smiles at you for only a second before turning on his heels to take the clothes to the washer, saying you can take your time.

You leave the door leaning on its threshold, not quite closed, because, first of all, Sungchan has seen you naked multiple times and there’s no reason to be shy now, and second of all, you half expect him to come join you. So, you step in the shower, the white tiles cold against your toes as you turn the tap to burning hot just how you like it.

It’s relaxing having the heated water hitting your naked skin after being out in the cold with wet clothes for minutes that felt like years. You indulge yourself in it, sighing and letting your limbs loose, facing down and resting the top of your head against the tiles under the head of the shower, moving your body to fully stand under the water to feel it hit your shoulders as your mind travels back to Sungchan. It’s hard to over analyze his every move, touch and word when he’s just a few steps from you. But you’re an expert on doing that in every possible scenario by now. So, you recall every second of your five-minute interaction with him since you stepped inside his place, trying to look for signs of anything. You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.

You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.

Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. Although you’ve seen him being comfortable and goofy around friends, he often keeps to himself and can even be described as a shy person most of the days. Even though his playful side comes up occasionally when he’s with you, most of the time you are met with silence that makes you conjecture a million theories that are never proven.

Plus, you’re achingly jumbled today and the truth is you always feel foolish around him. Like your strong attraction to him makes you dim-witted, tongue-tied and incoherent. Just like the first time you ever saw him.

The first time you ever saw him was in your freshman year in the second semester at college, in your Ethics class. He’s a STEM major, which obviously meant he was taking it for an extra credit, but you didn’t know that yet when you walked into the east building expecting to see a class filled with law students and came across the tall and hot math nerd.

One moment, you are hurriedly walking up the steps to your seat as the lecture hall fills with scholars and your professor takes his place in front of the board. In the next one, you’re bumping into a desk and sending a collection of papers and one very pricey scientific calculator to fall on the ground with loud bangs and blasts. You’re desperate as you squat down and rest your books on the following step to search for the batteries and the hood of the calculator that flew around during your mishap. And as your hand finds the last battery missing, another hand clasps over it to retrieve the item and you glance up to meet Sungchan’s eyes. You both stand up at the same time, in which you notice how tall he is, your senses taking in his soft hair, strong grip and big eyes surrounded by his glasses’ frame. And then you flinch, taking your hand back from his and muttering a small hushed apology before walking the last steps to your desk and avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the lesson.

When class is dismissed, despite feeling extremely embarrassed, you gather up your courage and walk down to his desk to apologize profusely, saying how deeply bad you’re feeling and asking if his calculator is still working or if you have to work out a plan to pay for a new one for him.

“Don’t worry. It’s working fine,” he says, the sound of his voice sending a crazy shiver up your spine you never felt before. The first one of many to come. “But if you’re feeling deeply bad about it, you can take me out for dinner.”

You blink at him. The first one of many dim-witted moments to come in his presence. And he chuckles, fingers brushing over your elbow as he steps back from his desk and maneuvers you fully in front of him. You feel your organs internally jolting, like you’ve been struck by an electric shock or like you were numb and dead until now and have suddenly been relieved by a crazy scientist. And it’s all because of his small touch.

“I’m kidding,” he announces after you fail to reply, removing his hand from you, his eyes looking down and the tips of his ears tinting red as he says it. “We’re fine. There’s no need to apologize anymore.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” you reply, finally getting out of your head and finding your voice again after being revived by his fingertips. “Really. Most people wouldn’t be this chill.”

He walks around you with one hand on the strap of his backpack and steps down two levels of the stairs, becoming almost eye-level with you when he raises an eyebrow up and says, “Guess I’m not like most people.”

And then he turns his back on you, finishing the final steps of the lecture hall and getting out as you stupidly blink at his back.

It’s ridiculous how much you become obsessed with him after that.

Even though you consider yourself smart enough to not develop a crush on your first year of college, you walk head first into that booby trap. Very quickly and happily, too. 

It takes you a few days after your first meeting to learn that he’s actually a sophomore majoring in biological engineering, which didn’t help at all, because your social sciences brain couldn’t understand a thing about STEM. You also learn that he’s originally from another state and that, yes, he is in your Ethics class for an extra credit. From observing him in your shared class, you figure out he actually keeps to himself and likes to doodle on his textbook while the professor is talking. From a couple of shared acquaintances, you’re told that he’s shy, has never been seen with a partner before and doesn’t really attend parties. He’s a quiet one, they say. So much so that when you tell the person that he jokingly asked you out when you bumped into him, they don’t quite believe you.

As the weeks go by with no new interaction between you two except for the few stolen glances you throw his way during lessons, you start to think you imagined the whole thing. The electric buzz in your inner system when he touched you, the blush on his cheeks and ears, the way his eyes scanned you up and down and how his hand lingered a little too long on your arm… It could all just be a fleeting moment. Or only a natural response of your body from seeing and being close to such an attractive person. It certainly couldn’t mean anything special. You convince yourself that it meant nothing.

And then, the next day, you see him at a café close to campus. He’s there with a few close friends, chatting up and joking with each other, and you’re intrigued by how his smiles are easier to appear and how loud he can laugh in a candid and carefree moment. Also, you feel that same attraction again. That gut-punching-needing-to-be-closer magnetic pull between you two. It makes your nerves stand on end, goosebumps raise all over your body and your focus zero on him. It makes your skin prickle, like every atom of your body is buzzing in excitement and craving to be touched by him. And by the way Sungchan’s breath catches when his eyes meet yours and his posture changes, secretly eyeing you up and down every chance he gets, you can tell he feels it, too.

But it takes so long for you to be close to him. Being from strikingly different majors, you are almost never in the same parts of campus. Apart from the class you two met in and the programming class you took in your sophomore year – which you swore to your friends it was just because you were curious about it and not because of the student body attending to it – you mostly live different lives and stand out of each other's ways.

However, slowly and surely, your life becomes intertwined with his, like someone is playing puzzles with the pieces of you both. First, you become a TA to your environmental law Professor and end up tutoring one-on-one with his cousin Sungho. One day, while you are reviewing the paper he wrote for his class, Sungho tells you how Sungchan said “she’s super hot” when he told him you were his TA. You have to hide your smile behind the paper sheets in your hands to not give away that you’re attracted to him and scold Sungho for distracting you. That’s the first time you have actual evidence of Sungchan’s interest in you and it makes you smile for days.

Then, one of your friends starts hooking up with one of his friends and soon enough you are hanging out together in the same group. It helps you discover new things about him to obsess about. Like how he has the cutest mole on the corner of his upper lip you just need to drop a kiss on. And how his closest friends often call him Jinsu and how he always smiles when he hears it. You learn he’s a gym rat. And that he’s always down to help his peers whenever they have a problem and need a hand. It’s so freaking adorable.

And then, you both join in an extracurricular philosophy workshop you could’ve sworn you heard him ask Haneul, your friend, when was the final date of submission to in one of your hangouts. All these new opportunities to meet him frequently allow you to actually talk to him a few times, and soon enough you're sharing stories about your lives, joking and flirting with each other.

And that’s how, finally, in your junior year of college, your and Sungchan’s paths are unmistakably crossed and you become actual friends. So, when you surprisingly see him at a frat party, it’s natural for you to greet him while he plays Super Mario Bros with his friend Sohee. You strike a conversation about how you thought he didn’t like parties and Sungchan confirms it’s true and tells you how Sohee is a member of the fraternity and actually dragged him there. You laugh at his antics and then he jokes about something else so you smile again.

You want to sit next to him to keep your conversation going, but there’s a bunch of people littered across the room in various stages of drunkenness and practically no space left on the couch he’s on. Sungchan notices your eyes searching for a spot and makes as much room as he can, pulling you to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him. Then, he slings one arm around your body, keeping you steady and close to him, and rests his hand on your lap, his other hand joining from your opposite side with the video game controller. While he fixes his grip on the controller to keep playing, his knuckles graze your jeans clad thighs and you realize that you’re trapped around his arms for the time being.

It makes you instantly go rigid, his sudden closeness already making you dizzy and short of breath. And then, like it’s an afterthought of his, Sungchan leans on your side and looks up at you, his eyes carefully watching your reaction as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You purse your lips together and nod even though the thumping of your heart is so loud in your ears you’re not sure you heard him correctly. “Yeah.”

He nods back at you, a close-lipped smile appearing on his lips as he focuses back on the game playing on the TV. You have to concentrate on keeping your breaths steady as the side of his face brushes your arms, his hair soft and his stubble rough on your skin. You have to bite on your lower lip to keep yourself from sighing when his hands press on your thighs or on your lower stomach, controller lying in your lap as he waits for the game to load. Only after a while you feel comfortable enough to sit back against the cushions and let your hand wander to his shoulders, trembling fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt because your hormones are in a frenzy inside of you.

“You having fun?” He asks after they finish off a match on the game, hot breath falling over your arm and sending an electrical current on your body.

“Yeah. Until now, at least,” you reply, dangling your feet under you to give you something to focus on that it’s not him.

“Wanna have more fun?” He asks, and there’s an unmistakable glint in his eye that sends butterflies flying around in your stomach.

“Like what?” You reply, purposely leaning into the obvious sinful intentions laced in his words.

“We can get out of here,” he says then, fingers twitching the hem of your shirt and brushing on your skin, eyes scanning over your features and looking for any signs that you’re uncomfortable by his actions or words. He licks his lips when he notices how your eyes drop to his mouth and moves his hand to play with a strand of your hair before finishing off his proposition. “Have a drink somewhere more private… If you want.”

You know that the drink is an excuse for something else and that somewhere more private is actually his house. But you’ve been wanting this for so long that you have no desire to play it cool or pretend you don’t want this.

“Sure,” is all you reply, accepting whatever fate has in store for you now.

When Sungchan gets up from the couch and says goodbyes to his friends, he grabs your hand for you two to leave together, checking your eyes one last time to be sure you’re willing to do this just as much as him. You smile at him and that seems to be enough to placate his worries, because he smiles back and pushes you to follow through. You know you’ll kiss him as you make your way down the stairs of the frat house, one hand still gripping Sungchan’s and the other texting your friends to let them know you’re leaving with him. You know you’ll at least make out when he shields your side, protecting you from any unsteady drunk that may trip over you as you try to reach the door out of the house. And you’re pretty sure you’ll fuck as you both wait on the sidewalk for the Uber he asked for, his hand intertwined with yours as he hums along with the music from the party.

Still, you pretend like you’re naïve and clueless just for the mystery still hanging in the air.

Once the car pulls up on the curb, Sungchan leads you inside and enters after. He still holds your hand, resting it against his thigh as you take the left seat of the car and he sits back on the right one. The middle seat between you both is vacant and none of you make a move to sit closer to one another. You can cut the tension with a knife as soon as the car moves and the music from the party fades away. Slowly, he starts to play with your hand, rubbing and grabbing at your knuckles and you hold your breath. A moment later, your palm is up on his lap as he spreads your fingers open, his nails softly grazing the length of each and every one of them. He chuckles when the action makes you shiver and you hide your face with your free hand from embarrassment, turning away to look out the window. But then he changes places, splaying his fingers so you can rub your nails on the length of them now, and the same shudder that ran through you takes over Sungchan’s body, a cute blush appearing on his cheeks. Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. But in that moment, using just the palm of your hands, he chose to become vulnerable to you. His attitude says this is real and I feel it too. And you can’t be more grateful for him finally dropping the mysterious act and becoming transparent for once. At that, you smile and he intertwines his fingers with yours, clutching your hand fully.

You both stop watching your hands to finally look at one another. He sighs contentedly under your gaze and his free hand, the one that isn’t already attached to yours, finds its way on your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His eyes slip to your lips and back to your eyes, searching for something. And only after you nod at him, he dives in, capturing your mouth on his and successfully filling the space in between your seats, leaning his body on yours.

You’ve never been kissed like this before, with so much energy you feel renewed. But you try not to think too much about it and instead feel it as you reciprocate the kiss, your lips and hands restless to show him just how much you felt for him for the past two years.

Sungchan keeps kissing you as the car stops its journey and the driver has to announce you arrived. He keeps kissing you while you walk up the steps of his building to find his apartment. He keeps kissing you whilst he punches the code on his door to get it open. He is still kissing you as you take off your shoes and coats by the hall and he’s leading you inside, whispering a breathless “this is my place” that drives you both into a fit of giggles. He kisses you inside his room, on his bed, as he takes off your clothes. He kisses you even when he puts on the condom and you jerk him off before he slides inside you. He keeps kissing you whilst you adjust to his size and ask him to move faster. When he’s fucking you, he kisses every part of you his lips can reach – your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, your eyebrows, your neck, your ears, your shoulders, your clavicle and your boobs. You think his mouth never leaves your body, never fully at least, when he kisses your lips again whilst you tell him you’re so close. And as you cum, walls spasming and squeezing his cock to milk him dry from his own orgasm, he kisses you one more time.

After, when you’re lying in bed spent and he spoons you, he tells you how much he wanted to do this the first time you met. How you short-circuited his system and made him ask you out on that first moment and how serious he actually was about that. How he didn’t know what to do with himself when you didn’t reply. You chuckle at his confession and let the night wash away his words as you’re lulled to sleep by his warm skin on yours and his groggy soft voice. Before the slumber overtakes you, you swallow the words of your own confession that are burning on your tongue, thinking you’ll have the time to tell him later.

And that’s how you end up here, in a seven-month situationship with him, never quite speaking those words.

By now, it’s nuts the kind of power Sungchan holds over you. And you’re not sure he even knows it. Your relationship – if it even can be called that – is, for the most part, purely skin-on-skin raw sexual desire. Every time you are near Sungchan, you are energetic, your hormones kicking into high gear. For some time, you thought that after a few times sleeping together, you’d be able to get over it and get him out of your system. You hoped that your attraction to him would pass or that it would at least dim. That hooking up would get so common it’d turn boring, that you wouldn’t get the jitters around him anymore or that you’d run out of things to experience and new kinks to try out.

But every time you do it – every time, without fail – you finish it wanting more. You keep coming back to his arms and he keeps letting you in. The chemistry is still off the charts.

You love the way his calloused hands touch you and his soft lips kiss you. You’re crazy about how he has memorized all of your body parts and all of your ticks to make you scream with pleasure in bed. You’re obsessed with how he’s had your skin marked up with his fingers, teeth and scent. You’re captivated by his filthy words on your ear and his gentle hard thrusts against your hips. You’re fixated by how his dick fits perfectly inside you and how he knows how to make you cum in minutes. And you’re haunted by the fact that all of that combined might mean that you are in love with him.

Because sometimes, when you’re not fucking or going about all the stops that would lead you to fuck, you feel genuine deep attachment with him.

In a rare moment he laughs when you tell him how you argued with your crazy conservative forensics’ Professor in front of the Dean in a criminology symposium because he dared to assume asexual women are frigid. Or he lets you lay your head on his chest as he tells you how he and his roommate Shotaro became friends. Or he places a piece of your hair over your ear while you eat dinner together at the pizza place near your place. Or you belt out early 2000’s music together on his beat-up Kia Sephia 1993 while you drive around town. Or you tell him about wanting to change your major to Literature, that you never planned to take Law in the first place, and he encourages you to do what you really want. Or you both stay up late sharing your fears and uncertainties about life after college. Or he pulls you into his arms, holding you closer and tightly against him because your body drifted away from him while sleeping. Or he tells you how he loves your caresses as you pet his hair to lull him back to sleep while the rising sun infiltrates through his room curtains. Or he says he remembered you during the day because he saw your favorite flower blossoming near the building to his calculus class. Or he not so casually asks who was the guy you were talking too close with the last time he saw you on campus, jealousy shining in his eyes. Or he reads the latest philosophy book you recommended and gives you an in-depth review of all the points he found important. Or he buys you a cupcake when you meet up a day after your birthday and acts nonchalant, tips of his ear becoming red, as you ask him what it is for. Or he sends you a Spotify playlist of an artist he thinks you’d really like the sound. Or he asks how your grandmother is doing a few days after you came back from a quick trip home because she was sick.

In those rare moments, you hold yourself together to not bawl your eyes out because of his kind gestures. It’s hard not feeling sentimental being treated with the minimal tenderness when you grew up in a house with strict rules and no space for feelings. Of course, there were the frequent occasions where your parents would scream their lungs out at each other saying the nastiest stuff you ever heard, but, other than that, feelings were bottled up and could only come out in screeches if you were an adult. Your parents turned their maximum effort to make sure food was on the table and you and your siblings were upstanding citizens, and as much as you’re grateful for that, sometimes you resent them for never truly making you feel seen and appreciated.

Maybe that’s the reason why when Sungchan shows you care and desire, you mistake it for love. Because, in those sacred moments in the dead of the night when he shares a part of him with you, something he never told or showed before, you want to crawl out of your skin and into his to become a part of him. That’s when you think – you feel – like you love him. And you feel like maybe he loves you, too.

The fact that he speaks in a gentle and low tone as opposed to the wails you used to listen to as a child is just an added bonus.

After fifteen minutes, you finally close the water tap and the stream of your daydream about Sungchan to step out of the shower. As you dab your body up with a towel, you find out Sungchan has left a change of his clothes for you on the sink while your mind was far away. You quickly dry yourself off and put on the clothes, a pair of his boxers and a set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt that retains the heat from the hot water on your body and makes you feel like a human again and not a dirty wet popsicle. Then you wipe a hand on the mirror over the sink to get rid of the steam on it and start brushing your hair back with your fingers to redo your ponytail. Once you’re satisfied, you put the towel up to dry and leave the bathroom, walking the small path to Sungchan’s room. You can’t help but notice that Shotaro’s room, that is right beside Sungchan’s, has its door open and lights out, with no signs of Shotaro inside, which means you and Sungchan have the house alone to yourselves. A wicked smile makes its way to your face as you think of all the noise you can make without a care in the world. But you soon tamper your wild thoughts and breath in before knocking on Sungchan’s closed door, only opening it after you hear his permission to come inside.

His bedroom is small and you’ve been in here so many times you already know it by heart. A twin bed by the window, some basic white curtains, a nightstand, a small desk with a chair by the foot of the bed, a dresser just in front of it and that’s it. It’s a tiny room in a tiny apartment, not much different than yours, and you suppose there’s not much else a college student can afford in a building off-campus.

When you come inside, Sungchan is sitting on his chair, laptop open as he types away. And as you close the door again, he turns on his seat to welcome you with a smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “Did the clothes fit okay?”

You look down at the attire that so clearly belongs to him but fits you well enough because even though he’s taller than you, you’re more full-figured than him. “Yeah. Thanks for lending me them. And for letting me shower.”

“No problem. I already turned on the dryer for your clothes, they should be done in a minute. I also wiped down your raincoat, sneakers and your bag. Shoes are still in the hall. Raincoat and backpack are right there,” he tells you, pointing at a spot behind you where your belongings are gathered, right near his dresser.

Your eyes follow his direction to recognize where your things are and then you look back to him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you lean back on the wall with hands bound behind your back. Even though you wanted to meet him, you feel misplaced now that you’re here. Like the time apart has made you become strangers to one another. You don’t know what to expect anymore. Sungchan has been nothing but welcoming until now, but you keep fearfully anticipating his every move and word, waiting to be rejected, sure that your presence is annoying him and he’ll ask you to leave at any minute.

Contrarily to all of your fears, Sungchan puts you out of your misery as he extends a hand and beckons you to come closer. When you step in his general direction, he takes your hand in his and draws you in so you’re standing in between his legs. With him still seated in his chair, you’re taller than him, and you like the leverage of looking down on him that it gives you. But instead of meeting his eyes with confidence, you focus your gaze on a spot behind his head as you feel his hands wrapping around your waist and you place your own on his shoulders.

It's only when Sungchan moves one hand to your face and tips your chin back that you really look at him. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that match yours and a white t-shirt that hugs his form and shows his biceps, his fringe styled in a way that leaves a heart-shaped spot on his forehead that you want to drop a kiss on. His reading glasses frame his eyes, the lenses lightly scratched. It’s completely unfair how absolutely ravishing he looks in simple clothing and so little styling.

“Hi there,” he whispers when your eyes stop wandering over his features and finally focus on his face, the smile on his lips making you feel warm all over.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt over his chest for lack of something better to do. “Thank you for everything. You’re the best.”

“Of course, princess,” he says, hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull your face closer. He pecks your lips two times before pulling back. You instantly melt against him, containing the urge to follow his mouth with yours. “I wouldn’t be okay with you standing in those wet cold clothes. Plus, you look cute wearing mine, too.”

You smile shyly at him, your cheeks burning because of the compliment and he nuzzles his nose against yours, muttering a “So damn cute,” before pressing his lips on yours again.

You sigh against him, mouth parting to immediately receive his tongue. It’s slow and sweet, you both getting acquainted with each other again, one of his hands around your waist to press you against his front, and the other one rubbing circles on your nape. Your own hands wrap around his neck and pull at the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven, and you’re embarrassed by how much you missed this. His closeness, his smell, his touch, his kiss. All of it. All of him. You want him all the time.

“Finals week has been treating you badly, doll?” He asks when you both pull back for air and you groan at his question, hanging your head low and resting your forehead on his right shoulder. He chuckles at you.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” you whimper, the press of his lips on your neck making your voice airy.

He nods and softly pushes your head back so he can look at you again. “Fine, let’s not talk about it. But I still have an essay due tomorrow that I’m trying to finish today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to spend much time with you right now.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply. “You want me to go?”

He shakes his head and looks at you pointedly, muzzling another one of your attempts to flee. “Please stay. I’ll order some food if you’re hungry and you can eat while I work.”

You scrunch your nose at the offer with a hand over your stomach. “I actually feel nauseous after that exam.”

He laughs at you and starts humming, making the most adorable thinking face while he tries to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you leaving.

“I can charge my phone and watch TikTok videos on your bed while you work? If the sound doesn’t bother you. I’ll make sure the volume is really low.” You suggest. “And after, I don’t know…” You trail off, feeling warm all over again because you actually know exactly what comes after. What comes after is you getting impaled by his dick and writhing in pleasure. And you hope that what comes after is you both finally confessing your feelings for each other, too. But that’s just a hope.

And also, it’s not even the time to think about that, so you shake your head to scare those thoughts away and give him another option, “I can go back home after a while. I actually need to sleep early because I have another exam in the third period tomorrow.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” he replies, nodding his head and pulling you in for another long and sweet kiss.

That is interrupted by the familiar pinging sound of a message coming through his laptop iMessage app and your eyes instinctively follow it to check what it is. But Sungchan is quicker than you, scrambling up and turning his torso to reach for the mouse and close the notification before you have the chance to see it. It’s a small moment that doesn’t quite alarm you because you know Sungchan is a private person and there’s no way he’d let you look through his texts. Still, as he turns back to drop a last kiss on your lips and you walk away to search for your phone in your bag, something about it nags at the back of your head.

With your phone and charger in hand and the TikTok app open, you make yourself comfortable on his bed. As your brain forgets all about international laws and politics and gets a serotonin boost from puppies and kittens’ videos, Sungchan pulls your feet from the bed to lay them on his lap as he remains seated on his chair. When he’s clicking away on the mouse or scrolling through his screen to read something, he rests his free hand on your ankles and starts massaging the soles of your feet. The domesticity of it all tugs on your heart and you can’t help but smile as you watch his back. Soon enough, the warmth of his room, his kneading on your feet and the comfy feeling get to you and you start to feel sleepy.

So, you connect your charger plug on the outlet behind Sungchan’s bedside table and hook it up on your phone, letting the device rest on the table as you promise Sungchan you’re just going to close your eyes for a few minutes. Then, you end up falling asleep in just a few seconds.

You feel the warmth first. A source of heat enveloping you in a strong and sturdy body. Then, you feel the gentleness, the soft touch on your hair, the slide of a thumb under your ear that pulls you from your slumber and into the arms of reality.

As you blink your eyes open, you’re met with Sungchan’s deep light brown eyes, illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table. The atmosphere is comfortable. You’re warm and cozy laying on Sungchan’s twin bed with his arms surrounding you. The rain is still falling outside, although now it has turned into a light drizzle. There’s flimsy wind coming in through the small opening of the window that cools the air and prevents everything from becoming too hot. But you like the heat and think you could be easily lured back to sleep because of it.

“Hi there,” Sungchan mutters before you have the chance to close your eyes again, his head resting on the same pillow as yours.

“Hi, Jinsu” you say groggily, rubbing a hand over your sleepy face. You notice how he smiles and his eyes glint at your use of his favorite nickname, and an emotion stirs deep inside you for seeing him so happy with something so simple. 

You get awkward for a moment thinking you must have mucus on your eyes and a bloated face right now, but Sungchan just keeps smiling at you and it’s enough to take your mind away from the embarrassment. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the nape of your neck as you adjust yourself over the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up. I was just getting comfortable to sleep,” he says. 

“S’okay.” You smile back at him, reaching over to caress his hair, your fingers threading through its strands. “For how long did I nap?”

“Two hours or so,” he says, sliding his hand down to your waist. “You snored, too.”

You give him a scoff, followed by a yawn that starts small and turns big. It makes you stretch your whole body, extending all of your limbs from your arms to your toes, cracking your knuckles and everything, and Sungchan gives you space to do so. When you’re finished, you turn on your back, getting comfortable again and closing your eyes briefly with a quiet hum.

“I should probably go, then,” you say with eyes still closed. It was about 7:30 p.m. when you settled in his bed, which means now it’s close to ten. If you want a quality sleep and to wake up on time tomorrow, you actually should get going. But Sungchan’s bed feels too comfy right now. Being in his arms is not bad either. 

You don’t see, but you can feel him scooting over to you, sheets rustling as he gets closer, his nose nuzzling yours and his hand fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt, your senses heightened by your drowsy mind and the lack of vision.

“You can stay a little while longer,” he replies with a playful tilt in his words, his fingers skimming over your belly button making you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to see the left side of his mouth popping up as he shamelessly presses his body on the side of yours. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, you don’t?” you mumble, suddenly feeling the need to lower your voice with his lips so close to yours, eyes narrowing at his obvious naughty intentions. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Uh-huh, that’s me,” he finally leans in to give you a peck on the lips. “I’m sooo nice,” it’s the last thing he says before kissing you fully.

This kiss is heavy and intimate. His hand around your neck keeps you in place as he savors you, tongue entering your mouth. He strokes the back of your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the inside of your cheeks and your own tongue, groaning at whatever he finds there. His other hand grazes the skin of your waist tenderly in a way that may have made you think he’d treat you delicately if he wasn’t kissing you with so much fervor and energy. He takes whatever he wants from you until you pull away, already out of breath.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you tease, lips ghosting over his, and he smirks at you.

He moves his lips to your ear and whispers, “Yeah, but I’m all woken up now,” as his hand moves up and down your stomach, faintly caressing your skin in a way that makes your insides burn. He presses his pelvis on the side of your thigh and you feel his dick hardening while still being constrained inside his pants. “Can’t you feel it?”

You reply a faint yeah before he’s all over you again, mouth desperate on yours as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, hands gripping your waist and body crowding you against the sheets. He’s consuming you whole and he wants more. And you give it to him. All of you. Honestly, at this point you’d give him whatever he asked.

“You don’t have exams tomorrow?” You ask in between kisses, breathless and shaky, the still sane part of your mind trying to estimate how much time you have together and what you’d be able to do with it.

Sungchan shakes his head slightly and kisses the corner of your mouth, putting a strand of your hair that’s fallen free from your ponytail behind your ear. “I’m finished with exams,” he whispers and kisses your cheek, then moves his lips to your earlobe, kissing there, too. “I have all the time in the world for you right now, princess.”

You want to kiss him again, but his head moves up, his nose sinking into your hair and deeply inhaling before pressing his lips on your hairline. “I missed the smell of your shampoo so much,” he says, eyes focusing back on your face as he slides his lips to your temple.

You sigh against him, his words making your heart flutter. Still, you can’t help but tease him when his eyes meet yours again. “Well, if you contacted me earlier, you wouldn’t have missed it,” you say, pouting at him, your hand bawling at his shirt as you finally show how upset the two weeks of radio silence made you feel.

Sungchan laughs at you and cradles his hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he holds you close. “Oh, did you get mad I didn’t text you, princess?” He mutters, his eyes glinting while yours are sad. “You should’ve texted me, then.”

You keep pouting, making a dissatisfied noise with his reply. Then, you cast your eyes down to the collar of his shirt as you say, “I wanted you to talk to me first.”

Sungchan chuckles and closes his palm on your chin, tilting your head up so you have nowhere to look but into his eyes. “But you ended up calling me up either way, didn’t you?” He teases in a low gruff voice with dark eyes. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks to pucker your lips for him and he drops four consecutives pecks on your mouth that have you sighing. “Sounded so cute on the phone, too, saying you needed to see me,” he finishes.

The mockery of his words falls hard on you, making you feel ashamed as he reminisces your exact words, directly pointing out the truth: that you were the one who pursued him and not the other way around. You whimper in discontent, your face contorting as you try to get away from his grip, but his hold on your chin tightens when you move. So you press your nails on his shoulders over his shirt, hoping the fabric gives away and your force is enough to draw blood, and look at him with hard eyes and anger on your face. “Sungchan, I don’t like-”

“Why don’t you just tell me you missed me, huh?” He asks, interrupting you and making you roll your eyes at him, a snappy reply on your tongue. “Because I missed you, princess. I really did.”

And just like that the anger fizzles out and the irritable words are gone from your brain. His confession makes you melt back against him, breath hitching and eyes going wide. You notice he’s still smirking, probably because he knows he got you right where he wanted. Teasing you nonstop for half a minute and then confessing he missed you just so he can get a reaction out of you. And you give it to him, falling on the trap just like he wanted. You always do.

“Did you really?” You ask, big eyes focusing on his lips and neck pushing forward, needing to hear his confirmation. If you were a pet, your ears would be up and alert, patiently waiting for your owner to assert his authority over you.

“I did,” he says, nodding his head and smoothing his hands over your features now, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “And did you miss me, princess?”

You nod before he’s even finished speaking. Knowing he missed you just how much you missed him fills you with urgency and you’re sure you have eager and wanton eyes as you grip on the back of his head and pull his face closer, focusing your gaze back on his as you sheepishly confess back, “I missed you, Jinsu.”

Sungchan’s smile slowly spreads across his lips as he hears and sees your words coming out of your lips. He pats on the top of your head briefly, like you really are his pet, and coos at you. “There you go, pretty girl.”

And then he’s pulling you in for a kiss again, his mouth devouring you whole as he creeps one hand under your head to support it and slides his other one to grasp at your hip.

He shifts on the bed, leaning over you with a leg in between yours, his grip tightening as your tongues meet. In no time you’re both breathing heavily, lips red, swollen and covered in spit as your hands weave through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and biting everywhere, and drives his hands up your stomach under your shirt, feeling the skin just under your boobs before his fingers enclose over one of them.

You sigh and crane your neck to the side as he keeps peppering kisses on your collar, his thumb now pressing against your nipple as it hardens over his ministrations, another moan flying free from your mouth. You try to match his pace, descending one hand to his stomach to pull up his t-shirt, your fingers grazing his abs.

He pulls away then, kneeling on the bed to remove his shirt and throw it on some corner of his room. You spend approximately two seconds kissing his lower stomach before he’s pulling your sweatshirt – his sweatshirt – over your head, too, and pouncing on you a minute later, his other knee also coming in between your legs as he latches his mouth around one boob, laying you back down.

“Fuck, Sungchan,” you groan, your hands clamping on his hair again because he’s sucking on your nipple at just the perfect angle whilst his thigh presses on your crotch with just the ideal amount of friction to make you dizzy. You’re sure you're wet already and it’s not even been over ten minutes since you woke up.

“Missed these tits so much too, princess,” he says over your damp nipple, eyes focusing on yours and raising goosebumps all over you. It’s an incredibly lewd image. His glossy and pretty lips, coated on your saliva, telling you over your areola how much he missed your boobs. Yeah, you’ll probably be thinking about it for a long time, keeping this memory to your mind to use it specifically when you masturbate in the near future. Or you’ll be putting a video representation of it as the cause of your death on your grave when you’re buried. One of these two options, for sure.

He presses kisses all over the valley of your chest before sucking around the skin of your other boob. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to kitten lick at your nipple at the same time his blunt nails graze against the skin just under your belly button on your right side, and you fidget under him. It’s a weak spot he had memorized as soon as you started sleeping together and he tortures you with it every damn time you two fuck just to see you squirm.

“Desperate already?” He says as he rubs the same place over and over, his eyes watching your stomach contract with each caress.

“You’re such a douchebag,” you tell him.

“Why?” he kisses your nipple and focuses his eyes back on yours, stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Am I not making you feel good?”

“You fucking know why,” you respond, moving your hand to his wrist to stop his abuse of your weak spot and sliding his hand down to cup the place in between your thighs over your clothes. “And this is where your hand has to be to make me feel good.”

Sungchan laughs at that, pressing his hand harder on you and sucking on your boob one more time. His eyes and lips are glistening as he says, “So bossy. You’re lucky I like it.”

And then his mouth is claiming yours again while he sits up and his hands make quick work of yanking down your sweatpants and underwear – once again, his clothes – and throwing them away from you, making you lay back and bend your legs. Once he’s done, you move down the bed, sitting to grasp your fingers over the drawstring of his sweatpants, trying to loosen it so he can get just as naked as you are, but he moves his hips out of your reach just before you can finish it.

“I want to feel you, too,” you whine as he hovers over you, one hand pushing on your shoulder to reposition you the way he wants it, your back stretching against the covers again.

He smiles and drops a small peck on the corner of your mouth before moving his body down the bed, hands spreading open your thighs and lips pressing kisses on your belly and going down, down, down.

“In a minute, doll,” he says over your right knee, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs, so close to where you most want him. “Have to make you feel good first, just like you asked.”

His mouth moves up now, lips sucking and bruising your thighs, tongue lavishing over your soft skin, one hand crossed on your waist to hold your body down and another pinching the supple flesh of your butt and thigh, pushing and pulling as he pleases and extending your torture so much more. You love it just as much as you hate it. It’s amazing how much he knows your body, how much he remembers all of your ticks just to use them against you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s him. He makes you feel this way. Always has. Probably always will.

You are about to beg for something more, the first letter of a please making its way out of your now dry lips. And then he’s parting your folds and kissing up your crotch, becoming face to face with your glistening cunt. He buries his nose just on the outer part of it and breathes in deeply for a moment, quite literally inhaling your scent, and you think he just has to be mad. There’s no way in hell he’s a sane person.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, his eyes meeting your wide ones when you press your elbows on the bedspread to support your upper body and watch what he’s doing. “Missed this sweet little pussy, too.” He slides his forefinger up your slit and rubs at your clit, making you shiver. “And she missed me, right, doll? Fucking dripping already. And all for me.”

“Holy shit, you’re crazy,” you moan, brushing his hair back as he keeps rubbing your clit, your hips wiggling with every complete circle he finishes, eyes never leaving his.

“And you love it,” he states and you can’t argue with that. And then he’s licking a wide strip up your pussy, his middle finger reaching down to find your entrance at the same time.

It would be ridiculous to get close to cumming just from that alone, but it’s been so long and you’ve been so pent up you already feel the characteristic churning deep in your stomach. Still, like always, Sungchan takes his time with you, massaging your entrance with his fingers, tongue finding that spot just under your clit that makes you see stars.

The seven months you’ve been doing this have been so full of sexual experiments that now he knows you prefer indirect stimulation rather than the direct on-the-nose approach. He knows you like to be eased into it, to slowly lose yourself to pleasure over getting quickly to your orgasm.

So, he keeps rubbing over your hole before putting his finger in, stroking your walls lazily as you moan softly, his tongue licking over the same spot over and over, oftentimes catching just the underside of your clit and making you swivel your hips trying to follow his lips.

“That’s it, doll. Doing so good for me,” he says as he speeds up his movements, joining another finger inside of your pussy and focusing on the image of your eyes closed, chest heaving and lips bitten. “Feels good?”

“Feels so good, Jinsu,” you reply, opening your glassy eyes to meet his, grabbing at his forearm that’s crossed over the front of your body. Sungchan is so focused on bringing you pleasure that the veins on his arms are popped up, so pretty you wish to run your tongue over each one. All of it just adds to the raw sexual tension lingering in the air.

“I love it when you call me that. You know just the way to drive me crazy, princess,” he groans, eyes never leaving yours as he moves his mouth to your clit again, now sucking harshly on it as his two fingers scissor you open.

Another thing you love about Sungchan is his dirty talk. You still don’t understand how he stays so silent and bashful most of the time and turns into another person in bed, becoming bold and forward. It’s not uncommon for him to be completely calm and collected when you’re in a friendly gather and then say the most obscene things while fucking you half an hour later, the shy persona thrown out the window. Sometimes he starts teasing you with texts, dirty looks or small touches even while you are out with friends. And the knowledge that he gets to be a completely different person just for you got you off one too many times.

You move your free hand to the back of his neck and push him more into your cunt. He gets the message and pulls your legs further apart, one hand going under your bum to support your lower half as you start bucking your hips into his face, sliding your elbows under you to arch your back while you’re searching for pleasure. He’s fucking you with his tongue so good right now you feel your sanity slipping away. The breeze coming from the window gives you goosebumps because of the contrast with the heat of your body, and your nipples stand hard as you whimper, hand pulling on the strands on Sungchan’s nape.

He groans against you, the vibration going straight to your heat and enveloping your whole body. When he pulls aways slightly, he keeps rubbing at your clit with his fingers.

“Gonna cum for me, princess?” He asks while resting his chin on your thigh and you moan, nodding desperately as you lift your head to look up into his glazed eyes. Words would fail you right now, so you do your best to convey your feelings through your actions, the hand on his forearm gripping him so hard he gives you his hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Do it, baby. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Over Sungchan’s eyes, you catch the way he’s rutting his hips on the bed, obviously looking for some kind of friction. The image shows that he’s just as turned on as you while eating you out and it makes you crazier. His shoulder blades and his back are tensed and you rest one foot over his shoulder just to feel the muscles moving under it, so fucking attractive. And when you focus back to his face, he’s panting, gaze never leaving yours as he dips his head again to suck hard on your clit, and that’s when you cum.

Your orgasm takes over your whole body and you shudder as Sungchan doesn’t stop, three of his fingers finding your hole again and pistoning inside you whilst you fall apart, his left cheek resting against your thigh and his eyes never leaving your pussy. You convulse around his hand and under his body, body going haywire while the intense pleasure overwhelms your senses.

You don’t know what to do with yourself. If you should keep your hands pressing against his nape and your hips lifting off in the air or if you should stop and take a breather. It all feels too fucking good it almost smothers you, but you don’t feel like stopping. Sungchan makes the decision for you then, choosing to keep his tongue out to taste you and his fingers curling on the spongy spot inside you that makes you writhe.

But suddenly it’s too much and you sit up to try to push him away with a hand on his forehead and clasp your other one over his wrist that is bended as he still guides his digits furiously inside you. Your legs try to close over his head, but he presses a hand firmly on the inside of your left thigh to keep them apart, his eyes determined as he meets yours again and pulls away slightly from your clit.

“Wait, I’m–“ You try to speak, but the word sensitive doesn’t come out as you feel your thighs trembling.

“I know, doll, I know,” he coos at you with pouty lips, still overstimulating you and enjoying every second of it, his eyes relaying fake empathy. “But you can give me one more, right?” You shake your head no with pleading eyes. Sungchan doesn’t budge. “Yes, you can. I believe in you. Gonna feel so good, too.”

You realize there’s no escaping this. You could use your safe word, but you don’t want to. Not when Sungchan is assertive and so good to you that it makes you feel obedient, keen to do everything in your power to make him feel good as well. So you bite your lip and nod your head at the same time you feel something change deep inside you. Your thighs that were trembling now spread open again and your pelvis starts chasing the feeling of his hand instead of avoiding it. Sungchan makes note of every new reaction, a sly smile appearing on his lips, and his eyes zero in on your cunt again. You relax your back enough to have your elbows hitting the sheets again, head falling back. Your hands weaken their grip on Sungchan’s wrist and head as he doubles down his efforts, fingers unwavering working to bring you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel the tightness in your belly, how it’s so steadfast you can’t help but let yourself fall into it. 

When you sob his name and curl your toes on his back, he looks at you with fierce eyes and one command on his moist lips.

“Cum,” he whispers, soft and yet harsh.

Just like that, the band snaps again and your walls spasm, gushing over Sungchan’s fingers. You arch your back off the bed, hips shooting up to feel everything he has left to give you, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Like before, Sungchan keeps going, working you through it again and the lewd slippery sounds your cunt makes on his hand have you whimpering, nails scratching his wrist and eyes screwing shut to feel it all until it becomes too much again.

This time, when you weakly push at his forehead, Sungchan pulls back. His forearms support his body up as he hovers over you, lips trailing up your whole body as he kisses and sucks every part of you he can reach. “Such a good damn pussy,” he whispers just over the apex between your thighs. “And such a fucking pretty princess,” he says above your belly button. “Made you cum so good, right?” He questions after he sucks one of your nipples on his mouth again, and you paw at his head. “I could do this all night, doll,” he states before licking your other nipple. “And you’d let me, right?” He says before biting a mark on your clavicle.

When his lips come in contact with your own, you pant inside his mouth, trying to match his kisses even though you’re still gasping for air and with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You just loop your arms around his neck and let him kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue and feeling the heat creeping on your cheeks because of the vulgarity of it all.

He bites your bottom lip when you don’t give him an immediate answer and withdraws with it still between his teeth, digging harshly on your plush and hypersensitive skin until you hiss in pain. Only then he releases it. “Right?” He demands.

Your mind is still hazy and you’re still out of breath post two mind blowing orgasms, but you know better than to deny Sungchan when he’s feeling dominating. “Right,” you mutter in your most docile tone.

He smiles and swipes your cheek with his knuckles, thumb stroking on your abused lip before he presses another kiss on it. “Good girl.”

The praise goes straight to your system and you buzz in excitement, like you’re reawakening because of his words. Suddenly, you feel the urge to show him just how good of a girl you can be, how you can make him feel so good he might even forget his name.

You kiss him again and slip your hands down his body to feel his pecs, then his abs, until finally your fingers wrap around the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. Sungchan hisses, head resting on the crook of your neck and shoulder, hips thrusting down on your hand.

“I need to suck you off,” you say, pushing him with a hand on his chest to make him sit up as you keep working his erection through his pants with your other hand.

Sungchan follows your directions, pulling your upper half up with him but keeping his arms tight around you, constricting you from moving any further. “If you do that right now, I’m gonna cum,” his whispers with eyes boring into yours, a silent plea in them.

You drop a peck on his lips and look at him with the same intensity as you reply. “Great. Then cum in my mouth.”

Just like that he weakens his hold of you and you’re able to slip from his arms to kneel on the floor, pulling on his waist for him to be in the position you want. Sungchan becomes compliant to your whims, just following your moves. Even though you never assigned each other fixed roles in bed, you are usually the one being pliable and manhandled, so it is a nice change to get him to obey your orders. He drops his legs over the side of the bed where you’re located and gives you enough space to shimmy your body in between them. This time he lets you pull at the string of his sweatpants to slacken it and lifts his hips when you pull down on the waistband of it, your hands removing his briefs, too. Both pieces of fabric pool around his ankles as you hold your head up and pull his face down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him while he gets rid of the clothes surrounding his calves, becoming hyper aware of your hands roaming over his body as his dick remains untouched.

Only when you pull back you get a good look at his cock, red, angry and leaking with precum. You lick your lips and keep rubbing your hands at Sungchan’s skin, and his eyes follow the way your right hand tweaks his nipples and your lips close around the space over his left knee.

“Please don’t tease right now, doll,” he says, voice whiny and eyes urgent as your hands start going down his stomach, your nails slightly scratching his skin. 

“Oh yeah? But I thought you liked teasing,” you say with a smirk before kissing his thigh. He opens his legs some more, opening up more space, and shuffles his pelvis closer to the side of the bed, leaning back on one arm. “Or are you that desperate already?”

He sneers at you repeating his earlier words back to him, but when you finally wrap your hand around the base of his dick, the smile is gone and he opens his mouth in a silent groan, brows furrowing together. Sungchan is so thick and heavy in your hand the tips of your fingers don’t touch your thumb as you grip him. Although his size never fails to impress you, you’re used to it by now, and you’re particularly fond of how much pleasure it brings you.

You just find it unfair how even his dick is pretty. Long and thick, mushroom tip with the same pink tinge of his lips and nipples, standing up with a slight curve that always digs so good on that spongy place inside of you. You move your hand up and down his shaft to smear his slick all over him. Your mouth waters at the sight and soon enough you’re pressing a kiss to his tip and watching him purr, thrusting his hips up to follow the feel of your lips when you move back.

“Stay still,” you command and he purses his lips together and nods. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and you love the image of it. You smile softly at him before you kitten-lick his tip, watching his mouth open to deliver quiets aahs and oohs while you tongue at his slit and the underside of his head.

After a while, you finally take him inside your mouth. His tip prods on your cheek as you suck his dick forcefully and that’s enough to make Sungchan groan, head lolling back. You back away again and he whines, lifting his face to look in your eyes again.

“I know, baby boy. So sensitive, right?” You blow air over his head and he fidgets, wiggling his hips slightly. God, he looks gorgeous surrendering himself for you like this. You’ll have to do this more in the near future.

You smile and run your tongue all around his head, teasing him one last time before enveloping your lips around him again, tongue stroking the underside of his cock. Sungchan grips a hand on your hair, threading the strands of your now lopsided and messy ponytail in between his fingers. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down for him, hand stroking the rest of his dick where you’re not able to cover with your mouth. He moans at you and you put another hand on his thigh for balance, breathing in deep through your nose and preparing to take him deeper. A second later you’re relaxing your throat as his dick invades that space, too, concentrating on keeping your breath regulated while he thrusts his hips up.

“Just like that, princess,” he whimpers under you.

You hold out for the longest you can before you feel your gag reflex kicking in and then you retreat with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his dick, your eyes blurry from unshed tears as you make up for the loss of your mouth with your hand. Sungchan moves both of his hands to your cheeks, holding you tenderly as his thumbs press on your waterline to catch the tears clouding your vision.

When you blink, his face becomes clear to you again. His eyes are glassy and lust filled, his open mouth is panting and his chest, cheeks and neck are splotched. It fills you with pride that he’s gotten into such a fucked-up state just because of you.

“Feels good?” You ask in between deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air before preparing to take him in your mouth again whilst you keep pumping his cock.

“Yes. You’ve gotten so good at this, doll. Doing your best job yet,” he says and the pride swells in your chest, an instant ego boost cursing through your system.

Before you met Sungchan, you didn’t care enough about receiving or giving oral. You had a couple of boyfriends before, but you were still inexperienced and slightly disgusted of doing and experimenting certain things. And even though they had given you head before, and you’d tried your best to reciprocate, it was always a means to an end, never the primary goal of your sexual encounters.

But Sungchan was different. The first time he ate you out, he didn’t stop until you finished three times in sequence. It was so good it made you want to do the same for him. He made you feel seductive and bold enough to try new things. And he had the patience to teach you just the way he liked it. He didn’t become frustrated when your rhythm was shitty and you had to take long breaks to breathe before going back at it again. He didn’t push your head to take him all the way when you weren’t prepared. He waited for your affirmative response, leading and encouraging you, praising you whenever you achieved a new skill or did something different. He was good to you. And in turn, you became good for him.

“I like to pleasure you,” you say sincerely and trace your tongue on the vein that runs under his cock.

Sungchan jitters on the bed. “Yeah, and you trained so hard for that, right? Always sucking on my cock like you want to milk me dry, too.”

You nod, suckling and peppering small kisses all over his tip. “I do want to suck you dry.”

He smirks at that and moves his hand to the back of your neck again, tightening his grip. “Then why don’t you put it in your mouth again, baby?”

You smirk back at him and take your last big whiff of air before opening your lips to take him inside again. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down immediately, gripping at the base of his dick a hand and letting his moans, sighs and hums of approval guide your ministrations. You suction on the parts of his cock your mouth can reach and flatten your tongue on the underside of it, playing with his most sensitive parts while Sungchan keeps praising you.

“Shit. So good to me, doll. Keep doing that,” he grunts and you nod.

When his nails dig on your nape and his tip hits the back of your throat, you breathe through your nose and let him jerk his hips up until your forehead meets his stomach and your nose rubs on his pubic hair. You press both of your hands on his thighs and allow him to use your mouth until you can’t breathe and think straight anymore.

When you back out heaving, Sungchan moves his fingers to your face to catch the droll falling from your lips and clean the tears striking your cheeks. He waits for you to gather your surroundings again, still complimenting you and your work.

“Damn, you’re such a good girl,” he says tenderly, thumbs running over the apple of your cheeks. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

The praise, of course, gets to you again. So, you tighten your grip on the root of his cock, starting to pump him faster, and take your other hand away from his thigh, pressing your fingers together and shaping your palm in a conch-like way to rub it on the tip of his dick, your thumb going under the head to rub at the sensitive spot located there. Sungchan moans loudly at that and you lean over to lick on his balls at the best of your ability giving the position you’re both in, not giving up even if the carpeted floor is digging on your skin.

Sungchan scrunches his eyes closed and slides one of his hands to the back of your neck and moves the other to grasp over yours on the head of his cock, pulling it away to rest them together at his thigh. “I’m close, princess.”

You catch his warning and wrap your lips on his cock again, instantly taking him in your throat as he desperately yanks his hips up in your mouth, fingers pressing on your nape and moans growing heavy and breathless. Your free hand fiddles with his balls, your nose presses on his lower stomach again and you swear you can feel him in your windpipe. And that’s when he releases, painting the inside of your mouth white with thick ropes of cum that only seize after a minute. When his body becomes loose and his hand on your neck turns weak, you pull away with a pop, watching his dick twitch and slap against his stomach.

You breathe deep and press your hands on the mattress on both of his sides to get up slowly, back and knees complaining about being in the same position for long minutes. Despite looking limp and still dazed, Sungchan pulls you to him so quickly you almost lose your balance. He peppers kisses on your belly and boobs while your hands press on his shoulders. And when you groan and move a hand to rub your left knee, he pulls your leg up to place your foot on the bed and hunches to close his lips on your skin, his tongue lavishing against the redness there. It tickles and you chuckle at him, but that doesn’t stop him from giving your right leg the same attention. He places your left foot on the ground and bends your right leg to press your toes on the mattress, repeating the same process. You smile fondly at him and caress his hair while he drops kisses on your right knee. And when he’s done, he slides your leg down so you’re now pressing your knee on the bed on the side of his thigh.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers as he pulls you in for another kiss.

You press your body closer to his and feel the way his dick is hardening again, rubbing on your thigh, precum wetting it. But as you shuffle to straddle him completely, Sungchan stops you with a hand on your waist.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse from the blowjob. Sungchan doesn’t reply, scooting closer to his nightstand to open his drawer instead.

He pulls a foil packet from the already opened box of condoms and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. You guys have been doing it raw for three months now, ever since you told each other you were clean and not seeing anybody else and you started taking the pill. Sungchan loves finishing inside of you. So of course, you’re a little bit puzzled about why he’s choosing to wear a condom now, all of the sudden.

Well, maybe he’s afraid you met someone else during your time apart, but this possibility doesn’t even make sense. So you try to quash away his worries.

“I haven’t seen anyone else, Sungchan,” you tell him as he opens the foil packet and discards the trash on his night stand, right beside your cell phone.

“I know, doll,” he says back, eyes fleeting on yours for a moment before they focus on wrapping the condom around his dick. His voice sounds confident when he says it and it irks you how he’s so certain you won’t sleep with anyone else. “It’s just quicker to clean up this way.”

You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms. It doesn’t make sense. You can always shower after. That happened all the time. And it frequently led to you having round two in the bathroom, which you are not opposed to at all.

When Sungchan finishes securing the condom on his dick, he grabs your hand to drop a kiss on the back of it and pulls you closer. You budge just slightly and his eyes catch the way your stance is guarded and you’re not opening yourself up for him yet. He smiles, eyes crinkling with the motion. “Come on, princess. We have to be quick, right? Don’t you have to sleep early for that final on your third period tomorrow?”

His words are lovingly convincing and he’s technically right. But you still eye him suspiciously. Your finals are the last thing on your mind right now and you don’t believe Sungchan is worried about your sleep cycle after you just spent almost an hour pleasuring each other. It just doesn’t make sense, your mind screams at you.

You’re sure something is wrong, but when Sungchan starts kissing your clavicle and grabbing at the back of your thighs to pull you against his front, you fold, letting his lips and hands distract you from it. Then you straddle him, eager to have him inside you to pull away from the siren alarm ringing loud inside your head. He’s rock hard again and you take his cock in your hand, slapping it against your pussy lips to share your juices and the condom’s lubricant with each other. Sungchan rests his forehead against yours as you look down together at the scene.

When you move up enough for the head of his cock to catch on your hole, you both sigh, but it slips and hits your clit, so you scoot forward to get better leverage to put him inside you. Sungchan supports you with gripping hands on your back while you move your hips back up and finally his cock prods on your entrance. You’re both sighing together again when he enters you, and when Sungchan meets resistance half his way inside, he pulls you up slightly and rubs your hips, muttering about how good you’re taking him until you release more wetness, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate all of him.

Soon enough his thick cock is deep inside you and Sungchan bottoms out with a huff, watching as your pussy envelopes him whole. His mouth is slightly open and his two front teeth show behind his upper lip just like a bunny’s, sweat glistening on his forehead, that heart-shaped spot his hairline makes taunting you again. Your heart swells at the sight of it all, and you hate how cute he is whilst his cock is splitting you open. You place a kiss on the spot on his forehead just like you wanted before and then drop another one on the mole on the corner of his upper lip. Sungchan pulls your lips to his as you experimentally move up and down on him.

“You feel so good, princess,” he moans, breaking the kiss.

“Big,” you whimper out, scratching at his shoulders. “Feels so full, Jinsu.”

He chuckles and kisses on your temple. “I know, princess. But you like it, right?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing at his chest and gazing at his eyes again. “I like it so much.”

And you do. You like it so much that you start riding him with full energy, needing to show him how much you like him inside you, how much you like him. You try to convey with your body the words you haven’t been able to reveal, trying to show him and yourself how much this is right because of how good it feels. Because maybe if you bounce on his dick just right, suck on his pulse point the way he likes it and give him high pitched moans that compliment his performance he’ll start to like you back.

“You’re so perfect,” he says over your ear, his fringe tickling your cheek. “So fucking perfect.”

You want to scream at him that he’s right, that you are perfect, perfect for him. But instead, you purse your lips together and focus on rolling your hips against his until your thighs burn. Sungchan’s hands are splayed on your butt cheeks and he aids you, helping you by moving you up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks at your face as you scrunch up your nose and close your eyes to focus on keep riding him. You try to pick up your movements, needing a faster place to bounce back on him in a way that doesn’t tire you out as much. But Sungchan keeps slowing you down, distracting you by kissing on your pulse point, fondling your boobs, sucking on your nipples or pulling your face to kiss you. While he showers you with affection with his lips, his hand presses deeply and firmly on your back so you ride him languidly, almost stopping at times when the movements pull hoarse moans out of you both.

After a while, you start slacking because you’re actually becoming tired, trembling and losing your flow completely. Sungchan increases his efforts, trying to move you on him with only his hands, but you already surpassed the time you are usually able to ride him and your body is spent. You press your lips on his clavicle and slump against him, giving up completely.

You feel Sungchan lips on the nape of your neck and then his light chuckle. “Want me to take over?” He asks in a gentle tone.

“Yes please,” you breathe against his sternum.

He rubs the expanse of your legs and kisses your shoulder before pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and getting up with you on his lap. You think he’s going to lay you back on his sheets, but are surprised when he carries you over to his dresser, his hand knocking over and away some bottles of perfume and deodorant as he drops you on top of it. You jolt from how cold the wood feels on your heated skin and his cock slips out of you, making you both laugh a beat later.

“Why not the bed?” You ask breathless and still chuckling, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his middle as you shuffle to the edge of the dresser, watching Sungchan’s eyes turn into half-moons as he laughs with you.

“Just wanted to have you here, too,” he whispers, draping his arms tight around you and kissing you again.

He’s so playful and happy today, kissing you so much and complimenting you, slowing down and taking his time with you, his touches so careful and gentle you can’t help but start hoping. You hope that this, whatever this new side of him he’s showing you today, means something more. The feeling chews brutally on your heart, making you aware that you probably won’t come out of it alive.

Sungchan hooks one arm under your leg and pulls you to his body until half of your butt is hanging on the edge of the dresser, then grabs at his dick to guide it back to your hole, groaning when he’s fully inside of you again. You think he’s going to thrust his hips hard and fast, but he surprises you one more time by pulling back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving himself inside of you again just as gently. You sigh at the fullness and he does it again, his eyes fixated on where you two meet. This way you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock hitting all the right stops inside you, your toes curling and a moan boiling on your throat from how good it all feels. When he glides back one more time, you lift his head to look into his eyes, and he keeps your gaze as he leisurely fills you up one more time.

 “I love feeling every part of you like this,” he says when he’s bottomed out again, and you think you might die from heartache if he keeps treating you this way.

However, you don’t have the time – and you seriously don’t want to – dwell on it because in the next moment he’s thrusting inside you more forcefully and faster, making you pant and moan profusely again. You let your eyes roam over his form whilst he fucks you deep and hard. He’s so attractive it makes you a little crazy. Sturdy and toned body, a defined chest, six-pack glistening with sweat, biceps flexing as he keeps you in place, veins on his forearms bulging up, a muscular back and firm hips and long strong legs supporting all of it. So tall and strong. His face is ridiculously good-looking, too. Thick brows, wide eyes, a structured nose and pink full lips, his cupid’s bow so well designed you think it was handcrafted by God himself. You don’t know whether to thank him or Sungchan’s parents for putting him in the world. He’s perfect. And great at fucking. You kind of hate him.

Sungchan catches your wandering eyes over him and grins at you. “Like what you see?” He whispers, chest pressing on yours as he slows down his pace.

You roll your eyes. You also hate him for being so smug. “You’re handsome. What should I do? Look away?”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek. “No. You can look all you want, doll. Memorize it even.”

You pinch his shoulders and graze your teeth on his cheek for that and he shakes with laughter. “Such a cocky boy,” you whisper.

He holds your face in both of his hands as his hips keep meeting yours, going back to the slow measured thrusts inside you. “You’re so beautiful, too,” he mutters and kisses you again, halting all of his movements as his tongue darts inside your lips, tasting every crevice of your mouth. But you’re burning inside and you don’t care for slow and sweet anymore. You want him to ruin you, so you buck your hips forward for him to fill you up all over again.

He exhales and bites on your lower lip as you try working him inside of you the same way he was doing, but you fail. Your rhythm is shit and you’re still exhausted from riding him earlier, so you whine and grip his shoulders. “Sungchan, take me back to the bed so you can fuck me right,” you mumble, wiggling your body and trying to hop down the dresser as he keeps pressed against you, peppering kisses over your neck. “Please, Jinsu.”

He draws back from your neck, then, and quickly hooks his arms over your legs, hands splaying on your butt, to carry you back to the bed, remaining connected with you. You like how he makes you feel so small, as if you weigh nothing even though you have fat on your belly and plump thighs and arms. He never comments on it, too, and you’re so grateful for him never making you feel anything but desirable as your back meets his sheets and he hovers over you again. He's big in more ways than one.

You arch your back so his cock keeps filling you up, searching for that place inside you he always hits so good. But Sungchan has other plans, and his hands come to your wrists to stop your movements, holding your hands over your head as he presses all of his body on yours, your boobs squishing against him. His eyes bore into yours as he leisurely presses his cock inside you again and you bear your nails down on his knuckles. You desperately want to feel him with your hands. And you badly want him to stop looking at you with that intense gaze that makes you think – makes you feel – he cares about you the same way you care about him.

When he kisses you again, you can’t take it anymore, huffing at being constrained by your hands and urging him to look at you. “Can you flip me over?” You ask and Sungchan’s eyes shine bright at your sentence. He can never resist having you in doggy and you smile mischievously when you’re already laying on your stomach a second later, Sungchan manhandling you the way he wants.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he instructs and you fumble to obey his command, pushing yourself up and back on your knees and positioning your hands on the bed at the length of your shoulders to support your body.

Sungchan instantly corrects your form, one hand sneaking in between your thighs to spread them further apart and another pressing on your back for you to lean your upper body down, making you arch. You sigh from feeling his warm touch over your skin, wiggling your ass in the air for him. He chuckles at you and gives a soft slap at your right butt cheek and you laugh with him.

“You look so pretty in this position,” he says, now placing himself behind you and shimmying his knees in between your legs. “You know I love to fuck you like this, right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation building high as you feel him prepare to enter you again. “And I love when you fuck me like this.”

Sungchan hums at you, and you finally feel the warmth of his skin on yours as he slaps his dick over the curve of your ass, making you purr. “And I love this ass, too,” he mutters, resting his cock on your body as his hands grab at your ass. Then he gives it another hit, this time harder than the first one, his palm softly massaging the spot after. You stumble on the bed slightly from the shock, smothering a moan. “Love how it looks when I fuck you.”

You know by now that he’s enjoying his time teasing and playing with you, but you’re so desperate to feel him inside of you again that you don’t mind begging for it. “Jinsu, please. Can you please put it back in?”

He snickers at you and finally finishes rearranging himself, his knuckles brushing against the back of your thighs as he begins tugging on his dick again and guiding it inside you, the head of it pressing on your entrance. “Okay, doll, but just because I want it just as bad as you.”

He slides hard and fully inside you in one go, driving you forward on the mattress. You sigh contently, feeling full and complete. In this new angle, he feels even deeper. Sungchan groans as he feels your cunt spasming around him, one hand gripping your right hip and the other kneading your ass. He pulls back halfway and pushes in again, harder than before, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from how good it already feels.

“You good, princess?” He asks, stilling inside of you.

“Yeah. Feels so deep,” you whisper, leaning the side of your face on the sheets above you to try to look back to him. You only get a glimpse of his left ear and cheek and how his biceps look holding you down, the rest of your view being obstructed by your own body.

“Hmm, I know,” he muses, languidly moving in and out of you, now both of his hands landing on your ass cheeks to spread them apart. You’re pretty sure he’s indulging himself in feeling the plush of your skin spilling between his fingers and watching how your pussy swallows him whole from that angle. He’s addicted to the image and feel of you like this. “I always hit it so deep like this.”

“Uh-huh. And you can hit it harder and faster, too, right?” You tease, pushing yourself back on his cock to make him fuck you swiftly.

He laughs and moves one hand to your hip again, leaning further into you and pressing his hips against yours. “Sorry. Got distracted by your ass again”, he confesses and it’s your time to snicker at him. But soon he begins to drive his cock harder and faster inside you, just like you asked, and your laugh is replaced by moans. “Better now?”

“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling his dick hit all the right places inside of you. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, his hips kissing yours again and again, the sound of your skins smacking together echoing through the room.

He’s been driving you crazy the whole night with his slow and measured thrusts, his gentle and nice words and his overflowing affection, so it’s no wonder you’re already moaning loudly and fisting the sheets of his bed in very little time. Sungchan is no better than you, though. You can hear him grunting every time his hips kiss yours and feel his legs tensing beneath you. He probably planned to excessively and deliberately tease you until you were begging to cum, but he didn’t realize he’d also be overstimulating himself before getting to the finish line. It’s as annoying as it is adorable.

“Holy shit. You really look so good like this, princess,” he grunts, his eyes admiring how your ass jiggles against him with every forceful drive of his cock inside of you. “Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”

Your chest expands at his admission, getting dizzy from the knowledge that he’s so transfixed by you that he says something like that in the heat of the moment. The feeling curls inside your chest and you smile. Maybe he does reciprocate your feelings for him. Who knows?

You open your mouth to say something teasing about his statement, but the words are long forgotten when he reaches his hand up your shoulder to wrap around it and tugs you back against him hard, moving you back to him as he continues driving himself forwards. Your loud moans of his name turn into broken whimpers of random words you don’t even remember thinking.

“So wet and warm for me, gripping me so tight,” he says above you and you wonder how he’s still capable of forming sentences when that ability is now so hard for you. “Fucking perfect.”

“Your dick is perfect,” you try to make out even though your brain is a mess. “You are perfect.”

He moans and grips you tighter, showing he understood you. “Thank you, doll. Now c'mere,” he says, moving his palm on your shoulder the other way around, hooking it under you. “Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”

Again, he maneuvers you the way he wishes to. With his cock still inside you, he removes his legs from between yours to position them outside of you now, putting pressure so you have no choice but to drive your legs together. The movement makes your pussy snugger around his cock and he moans, halting for a beat to bask in the feeling of it. Then he pushes your upper half up, hauling you up with his grip on your shoulder, making you raise yourself again until your back meets his chest. You feel prickles on your arm at the close contact and sweat makes you both sticky, your skin gluing you to him as Sungchan now moves a hand to grab at one of your tits and the other one to cross over your whole waist, clinging your body to his.

You’re molded together. You won’t complain about it.

He rests his chin on your shoulder and grazes his thumbnail on your nipple, making you hiss. Then he starts moving again, his hips driving backwards and forwards with enough force to drive you away from him. Except his arms are still steady and firm around you, keeping you connected even through his hard thrusts inside of you, and you reach down to grip his thighs, your nails scratching him.

“That’s it, princess, taking me so well,” he rasps on your ear and you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.

“Shit, Jinsu, I think I’m-" You try to stutter out, your voice becoming high and airy as the head of his cock rubs deliciously on your g-spot.

“Fuck yeah, I can feel you clenching around me,” he says and after his words you feel your cunt contracting even more, trying to keep him inside of you forever. “You’re going to cum for me one last time?”

“Yesyesyes.” You turn your head slightly back so you can rest your forehead on his temple. He turns his face to yours, too, and you watch as droplets of sweat fall from his hair to his face. You move your hand to his face to keep him there and Sungchan does the same with the hand that was gripping your waist, moving it to the side of your face to stroke over your cheekbone with his fingers. “I’m so close, Jinsu,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his.

“Me too, princess,” he replies and drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Let’s do it together, okay?”

You nod just as he slides his hand from your boob to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. The added stimulation on your clitoris makes you light-headed and you try to grip at the last shreds of your sanity to stay in the moment with him. Sungchan’s eyes shine against yours and you overwhelm your senses trying to concentrate on feeling everything at once. His hands and hold all over you, his fingers coaxing your orgasm out of you, his legs hitting on the back of your thighs, his hair brushing against your forehead, the smell of him and of sex – the smell of both of you together – invading your nostrils, his strength driving his hips against yours, his perfect dick hitting inside of you so good, his voice whispering dirty sweet nothings to you. And his lips that attach to yours the moment you’re on the edge of breaking apart, finally making you cum.

Sungchan kisses you while your pussy convulses on his cock and he thrusts inside you one, two, three more times until he’s spilling inside the condom. You keep clenching around him, trying to milk him until the last drop, and he keeps stroking your clit and kissing your lips. Only when your body starts twitching from the overstimulation and you grab at his forearm, he removes his hand from your cunt and detaches his lips from yours to kiss your cheek next. You sigh lazily, trembling on his arms as he pecks the same spot over and over, still muttering compliments and thank you’s. You can’t make out what he’s saying exactly because your blood is still ringing in your ears, your heart is beating rapidly, your thighs are sore and your body is starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion. So, you caress his forearm and hope it’s enough to return the sentiment.

His grip on you loosens just a little and you try to shift ahead. Sungchan, of course, notices your movement, and in no time he’s delicately laying both of you back on the bed, your heated chest rubbing against the cool sheets becoming a luxury as he keeps his rib cage connected to your back, being careful not to drop his full weight on you. He closes his lips over your shoulder blades and you indulge yourself in the attention and tenderness he’s still giving you while you catch your breath.

After some time of exchanging lazy caresses and quick kisses, he finally disconnects his body from yours, pulling out of you and getting up to tie off the end of the condom. You instantly miss his warmth and wrap a hand around his wrist, turning on your side to look at him. He smiles at you and bends over to kiss your forehead quickly.

“I have to drop this in the trash and clean myself a little. I’ll be back in a minute,” he states and gives you another kiss, this time on the lips. Then he tugs his briefs back on, turns and walks out of the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.

You exhale deeply as you turn your head to the ceiling, watching the shadows casted on it by the small droplets of rain still falling randomly outside. Your mind starts to work right away, trying to recap everything you just lived with Sungchan to hunt for signs of his feelings for you. But you’re so tired you banish the thoughts to the back of your head, covering yourself with the bedding from your toes to your head in a feeble attempt to hide from your own mind.

Sungchan is back a minute later, laying on the bed and draping himself all over and around you. You pinch his ribs when he drops his full weight on your stomach and he laughs, pulling at the sheets to see your face and body again. Once your head is out, he threatens to tickle you in retaliation for the tweak in his chest and you lift your arms in surrender, laughing with him.

When you’re both done laughing, Sungchan takes your hands in his and pins them to the bed beside your head, then kisses you. You smile between the soft press of his lips, giddy in oxytocin and pleasure.

“You should probably use the bathroom, too,” he states when he pulls back and you know he’s right. You need to pee and freshen up. And find the courage to leave his house and go to yours. You still have an exam in the morning. “I’ll grab your clothes from the dryer while you’re at it.”

You sigh dramatically and pull yourself from the bed and Sungchan’s arms. He chuckles and hands you a sheet to cover your body before you make your way to the bathroom, murmuring about how “Shotaro could get home anytime”.

You nod and when you turn to walk away, he gives a pat at your bottom, making you yelp. You look over your shoulder to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s all in good fun.

Inside the restroom, you take your time peeing and stretching your limbs back to their places. You hope the soreness from being tense or in the same positions for too long will go away after a good night's sleep. Then you step into the shower to quickly rinse yourself of any bodily fluids and sweat, cleaning your hands methodically and letting some water fall into your messy hair. You wrap your body with the same towel you used earlier and move to stand in front of the mirror again to finger-comb your hair back in a ponytail. But the lilac polka dotted bow scrunchie you had on isn’t with you anymore, probably getting lost around Sungchan’s room in the midst of everything.

You come back from the bathroom and find Sungchan seated on his bed, waiting for you already dressed and with your dried clothes placed by his side, a pensive look in his face while he stares at the wall opposed to him.

“I think I lost my scrunchie,” you say to him, pouting both because your favorite hair accessory and because Sungchan is already clothed. You were hoping you’d ogle his body some more before going.

Sungchan’s head snaps up when you arrive, like you’ve caught him off guard while his mind was elsewhere, but he promptly shakes his reaction off with a smile. “We’ll search for it later.” He puts your clothes on his lap and invites you closer. “Here, I’ll help you dress.”

You saunter over to him and stand in between his legs, thinking he’s just going to hand you each piece of your clothing as you dress up. He surprises you when he picks up your panties, holding it with his two hands inside its waistband, and bends down, lowering the item so you can pass your legs through the openings.

You quirk an eyebrow up at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies with a smirk, staying very still as you analyze him, gaze unwavering on yours. You shrug and do as he pleases, standing on one foot and then on the other as you pass your legs through the loops successfully one at a time. He tugs the underwear up until it’s placed correctly around your hips, then pinches gingerly on the place where your right thigh becomes your right butt cheek, as he proudly says, “Atta girl.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I think you’re kinda obsessed with my ass.”

He smiles and preens his neck up to kiss on your clavicle. You fight the urge to search the contact of his lips again when he retreats. “You’re right, I kinda am.” Then he picks up your bra next and signals his forefinger up and in a circular motion for you to turn around.

You turn on your heels and Sungchan’s fingertips start caressing both of your arms, moving softly along your biceps until your forearms and then to your wrists, bra still on his right hand between his pinky and ring fingers. Once he gets to your hands, he hooks the straps of the undergarment over your arms and pulls it up until each one is located on your shoulders. His hands go to your back to close the clasp, and you feel the teeth in the clip nipping slightly at your skin as he fastens it. He drops a kiss on your scapula and goosebumps raise all over your body. You wonder if he’s doing this on purpose, if his plan is to tease you and ruin you again and, at least, if this is as hot to him as it is to you. If he keeps this up, you might only get out of his place in the morning.

He grabs at your hips and turns back to him again, then holds your jeans, scrunching up the fabric of the legs so you can see the openings from the waistband until the bottom hems. That’s when you break your silence. “Is this some type of kink of yours?”

He chortles at you and holds the pants down for you to put on. You comply, passing your legs through the openings just like you did with the panties, and letting him yank it up. You pay attention to his eyes as he does it. His gaze sparkles as he watches your skin disappearing between his fingers and behind the fabric. You think it’s kind of cute and it reminds you of when you were little and did the same with your toys, changing their outfits nearly every minute. He’s playing with you as if you really are his doll, dressing you up for him. But behind the glow on his eyes, you also catch a hint of longing. Something indescribable, that you can’t quite put your finger on.

Sungchan drums his fingers around the waistband of your jeans until they go around all the way to find the button on its front. “Not a kink,” he says sincerely, pressing the button through its loop and then moving his digits down the fly to feel around for the zipper. “Just doing something nice for you.”

“Why?” You question, suspicious eyes falling over his face as he focuses on tugging the zipper up and securing your fastened pants.

He shrugs. “Because I want to.” Then, he hooks his fingers on the belt loops in front of your pants and pulls on them, therefore also pulling you to him. “Because you deserve it,” he says simply with a smile.

You blush at his words, smiling back at him and leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. You want to get lost in his mouth again. You want to get rid of your clothes once more and lay down with him in this bed for a week, finals and chores and college responsibilities be damned. But Sungchan, ever the responsible one, withdraws and puts some distance between your bodies before you get too eager.

“There’s still some clothes left to put on,” he says, snickering when you sigh in response.

You cave in to his will, collaborating with him to put your shirt over your head and then your hoodie. When you’re completely dressed and you straighten the clothes on your body, Sungchan finishes his little game of dress up by tying the strings of your sweater together with a bow. “Pretty girl,” he says.

“Pretty boy,” you say back, moving to sit on his lap, your legs perpendicular to his, one arm going around his shoulders and the other one resting over his, your fingers poking on the collar of his shirt, nails scratching the skin underneath. “I just think it’s a little unfair that I didn’t get to help you dress.”

He chuckles and moves his hand to close around yours, turning it to press his lips on your knuckles. “Maybe another time.”

You scrunch your nose up, obviously not satisfied with his reply. “Another time, then. I should probably get going anyway.”

Sungchan nods, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you close once more, wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands rubbing your back and his face hiding between your neck and shoulder. You hug him back just as tight, running your fingers through his hair while he breathes in your scent and presses kisses into every part his lips can reach. You stay like this for what feels like hours. Every time you think he’s done, he fixes his hold to hug you even tighter, almost binding you two together. When he finally slackens his grip a little, it’s only to move his hand to the back of your head and coax your lips in his. His tongue enters your mouth hungry and yearning, and you kiss him back with all the energy you can muster up. Just like all the kisses before, this one leaves you breathless and dazzled. Your mind is already fogged up and numb by the time he finally pulls back and, with moist lips and a piercing gaze, presses his mouth to yours one final time.

“You should probably get going,” he repeats back to you. You have to blink your eyes open two times to understand what he’s saying and command your wobbly legs to remember how to stand up again. “I’ll give you a ride.”

You nod at him and when you get up from his lap, Sungchan slides his hands down your shoulders to your upper arms, then to your forearms and wrists. He squeezes your hands two times before letting you go. You move to his nightstand to retrieve your cell phone, now charged and full of notifications you still leave unopened, and put it in your pocket. Then you bend down to plug the charger out of the switch.

“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you go,” Sungchan says the moment you take the charger out and you hear the uncertainty in his words, the fear.

Your heart skips a beat, your mind already whirring with a thousand possibilities of whatever he has to say. But you try to keep your expression emotionless and your eagerness at bay while you stand upright again. “Sure. What is it?” You roll up the charger’s wire and nod to him, encouraging him to keep going before turning on your heels to put your things away in your bag.

You’re already with your back turned to him, crouching down to your backpack and opening the zipper of its front pocket when he speaks again. “You remember the girl I partnered up with for my organic chemistry project?”

You pause when you hear him. The zipper’s slide is still as ever beneath your fingertips, the sound of the teeth getting dragged away completely stopping as you remain unmoving. You can sense something is wrong. You feel it in your bones. Whatever his next words are going to be, you’ll not like it one bit.

If Sungchan notices your momentary stillness, he doesn’t make any comment about it. You feel suspended in the air, on the edge of an information that’ll make you jump over the cliff. You wish you could go back to two minutes ago, when you didn’t know he had something to tell you. But your curiosity and the red flags you so carefully stepped around before now come to the forefront of your mind. And you take the bait, dragging the teeth of the zipper back until its stop to mask up for any agitation in your voice when you reply. “The sophomore majoring in biology? Yeah, what about her?”

“We’ve been hanging out for a while now,” he replies quickly this time while you’re putting your charger inside the bag and closing the pocket back. “It’s been working out pretty well.”

You stand up, then, and Sungchan pauses. He’s probably inspecting your reaction before letting the full truth out. You know exactly what he’s going to say. He’s about to reject you, to choose her over you. You wish you couldn’t be able to hear right now. But you need to listen to him so you can move on from whatever this fucked-up thing between you two is. And you decide you need to see it, too, turning around to watch him and crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for the impact.

“I actually really like her,” he says, eyes fixed on the spot behind you on the wall, not quite looking at you. His tone is heavy on the really. He probably just likes you. But her? He really likes her.

And there it is. The whole truth. All those things you ignored before had been there for a reason. The two weeks with no contact. The text on his laptop that he scurried to hide from you. His insistence on wearing a condom. The many kisses, the slow fucking, the compliments. His intense gaze. Even his fucking words.

“I love it when you call me that.”

“I love feeling every part of you like this.”

“Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”

“You’re fucking perfect.”

“Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”

“You’re going to cum for me one last time?”

All of those words weren’t because he’s in love with you. He didn’t really miss you, either. Maybe your body, sure. But not you, not really. Not at all.

He was not being gentle and kind and pampering you for you. He wasn’t gazing deeply into your eyes and showering you with kisses and beautiful words because he likes you. He was doing it to savor his last time fucking you before he turned another woman into his girlfriend. It was all because he’s discarding you.

He was saying goodbye. And you fell for it like a fool.

You have every right to be mad at Sungchan for taking advantage of your vulnerable self just to fuck you one last time. He likely planned to just keep ghosting you until you’d saw him around campus with his new bae and get the message, but then you called him and offered the perfect opportunity of a farewell shag on a silver platter. And he wasn’t going to reject it. He played his cards right, of course.

But you’re not mad at him. At least he gave you three earth-shattering orgasms before breaking your heart.

You’re really mad with yourself. Because you fucking knew it. The signs were everywhere. His silence about the status of your relationship wasn’t because he liked you too much to confess to you or because he was afraid you’d not like him back. It was a strategy. It was about keeping you on his side for as long as he wanted to have you. Good and easy pussy. He didn’t even have to make an effort to lie to you. You did it yourself, bending the truths so you could keep being with him, in whichever way he’d let you.

Plus, there’s no way a man like Sungchan would settle for someone like you. You just choose to push away all the hints he gave you just to feed on crumbs of his affection. A trauma response or some shit like that, no doubt. You’d have to ask your psychology student friend.

God, you really are pathetic.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Sungchan asks, and you notice you’ve been lost throwing a pity party on your own thoughts for a while.

To your merit, you shake it off like a champ, smiling at him and falling into your chill girl persona. “That’s great, Jinsu,” you say, smiling even though you’re dying inside. “I guess that means we should stop meeting up, right?”

Sungchan’s eyes widen. He obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction. You’ve probably shown your feelings for him a little too much and that made him real sure you’d have an outburst. But you’re a chill girl right now.

Chill girls don’t care about their flings liking someone else. Chill girls don’t want to know everything about it, too. They aren’t curious in the slightest about how long he’s been seeing her, how many times he’s fucked her, if he calls her princess and doll too and if she’s been on the same sheets they’ve just cummed all over in.

And chill girls particularly don’t mind when their friend with benefits for half a year is choosing someone he’s only known for two months over them.

He recovers quickly, looking sheepish while he nods, his cheeks blushing. “Yeah, would that be a problem? I’m actually planning to ask her to be my girlfriend this weekend.”

Shit, you didn’t need to know that. It hurts a little too much. Your smile falters for a beat, his words giving you whiplash. You feel dizzy and cold like you were dropped on icy water. If you kept walking outside in the rain, it wouldn’t feel as bitter as this.

Then you turn away from him, busying yourself with picking your backpack up to put it over your body. “No problem at all.”

But Sungchan plays with your feelings until the end, putting his hands on your shoulders to spin you back to face him. “Are you really okay with this?” He questions with his best puppy eyes.

He’s still cute while he does it. What a fucker. Now you hate him for real.

If he thinks you’re going to spill your heart out to him and ask him to choose you, pick you, love you in a rendition of Meredith Grey’s speech, he’s very wrong. You still have some pride left.

“Yes. I’m happy for you, Jinsu,” you reply through gritted teeth, the same frozen smile from earlier on your face. You can only be so chill about this and he’s pushing it.

“Oh!” He exclaims after your words, like a lightbulb went out in his head. He at least has the decency to stutter and seem embarrassed as he asks, “Uh… Would you mind going back to call me by my name, too?”

Of course. You just lost your privilege to his nickname. Jinsu is reserved for his close friends and his soon-to-be girlfriend. And, obviously, he can’t risk his new girl hearing another woman calling him such an intimate pet name. She’d have questions.

And you’re nothing for him anymore. You have to stick with his name now.

“Of course, Sungchan.”

“Thanks, princess,” he says, and you quirk an eyebrow up at him. If you can’t call him Jinsu, his nicknames for you are forbidden, too. He covers his mouth with a hand when he notices what he said. “Sorry. Y/N.”

After that, you both walk to the foyer to put on your sneakers so Sungchan can take you home. You don’t want to be in his presence anymore and you try to argue that you would be okay getting an Uber, but he blabbers on about how he insists about it and that’s the least he could do.

You agree just to get it over with. Sungchan picks his car key from the holder in the hall and opens the door for you. You get a last look at his place before stepping out. You feel weird once you’re out and the door closes behind you, realizing that you’ll never be inside his house again. The feeling churns in your heart and your eyes prickle, but you breathe deep and will it to go away.

You both are silent the whole two flights of stairs down his garage. And you stay like that while you get in his car and he turns the engine on, still not speaking a thing as he drives out of the small building complex and takes the path to your home. The only noise is the music coming out the radio and his old car sputtering up.

Luckily enough, your apartment is just a ten-minute drive from his. When he stops the car at your building’s curb, you gather your things from the carpet and say your goodbye. But Sungchan puts his hand over your, though, stopping you from opening the door.

“Can I have one last hug?” He has the audacity to ask.

That’s when you break your chill act.

You look over at him with raw and rough hatred. And he sees it, because he instantly retreats his fingers from you and flinches on his seat. “No, Sungchan,” you almost growl at him, venom dripping from your mouth. “I think your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.”

She probably will not like finding your favorite scrunchie inside the first drawer of his nightstand where you left it before getting out of his room, too. But that’s not your problem to deal with.

After your final words, you open the door and get out of his car, practically running inside your complex. You stay somber while you walk inside and wait for the elevator. You stay solemn while you ride the elevator, waiting for it to get to your floor. You even remain serious while you type your code in and finally get inside your house.

But when you take your shoes off and drop your bag on the floor, your entryway light flickers over your head for a few seconds until the bulb goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You stare into the dark and are also met with the silent empty space of your apartment.

You move your hand to the bow on your hoodie, the last snippet of your encounter with Sungchan you still have on. You pull on the strings and it disappears. Then you break down, curling over yourself until you’re on your knees, releasing loud sobs with chunks of tears coming out of your eyes.

What comes after is… being utterly alone. 

author’s note: phew! thank you for reading this little monster. please consider letting me know what you think about it in the comments or my ask box. feel free to scream at me all you want, i welcome it! <3

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”

[wttcsms]

baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance

Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet. 

Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even. 

He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.

“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.

“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.” 

“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.

“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!” 

“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.” 

“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner. 

“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”

He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 

You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does. 

His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks. 

“What’s bothering you?” 

You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones. 

“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration. 

“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others. 

“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.

At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest. 

“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”

“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?” 

“Well, we’ll be the exception.”

“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.” 

Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much. 

“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”

“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!” 

“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you. 

“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud. 

You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.” 

“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”

“You’re going to say something corny.” 

“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?” 

Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this. 

(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)