#like i worked over time a few weeks ago and after my shift my husband told me to stop doing that to yourself

[jlheon]

𝓒𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐉𝐒

(𝓹airing) — pjs x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓼ituationship ; angst & fluff (𝔀ordcount) one thousand five-hundred 𝓹eng's note. for my event! + new layout 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. a year later and you still miss park jongseong

you have a recurring dream that happens maybe once a week.

always about the same guy and living the same day. you’ve had it so often that you can recite every little detail that happens if someone were to ask you. though the only person who knows about this dream you keep having is your dream journal. which admittedly seems pointless now if you keep having the same dream, there’s no variety. 

you’ve stopped recording your dreams since it's the same every night that you have a dream worth remembering. you only dream of him.

you wake up next to him, a child that you can only presume is yours jumping on top of you excitedly. she calls you mom and him dad. the three of you get ready, eat breakfast, he kisses you goodbye, and you take your daughter to school.

you drop off your daughter and go to your ordinary office job. then in the late afternoon you drive to pick up your daughter and go home. dinner is premade from the night before and you two wait for your husband. 

a nice family meal. he’d do the dishes while you’d carry the load of laundry.

then eventually you fall asleep in his arms. 

whose? park jongseong, or jay.

you met him in your last year of university. so about two years ago now, but it’s been a year since you saw him.

you knew from the start that he was only spending a year here. 

so the time you spent with him was admittedly short. 

meeting through a mutual friend and spending a lot of time in group settings for the first semester. you still aren’t sure what shifted but you and jay started hanging out in the last semester before graduation alone, which bled into the summer after university until he left the country. 

in those last few months, there was an undeniable amount of chemistry and tension between the two of you. 

it stayed unspoken as you both knew that soon you would be miles apart when jay would leave to start his job for working for his father and you would be running around the city looking for a job, a relationship didn’t fit in the picture. 

you just kind of just acted like a couple without the label or conversation. 

it did more harm than good to your yearning to be with jay. he held you at night like a boyfriend would, took you on dates, and kissed your face. 

you can’t wait to get married. ever since you were a child you’ve fantasized about meeting your husband. when you met jay you were certain it would be him.  

jay is business driven. he wants to continue his father’s company and focus on work for most of his life. jay isn’t looking for anything serious, he doesn’t want to settle down just yet, and he doesn’t do long distance. 

your plans for the future never once intersect with the other. you don’t want the same things. 

you can’t stay away from him though.

one night, the week before jay’s flight, you had the closest talk to about what you were. a conversation that should have happened earlier.

“do you think you’re going to date when you move away?” you ask him while eating the dinner he had made you at his apartment. 

“no,” jay says bluntly, taking a sip of his drink. “i don’t think there’ll be anyone there for me.”

“do you really want to work for your dad?” you pick up a bite from your plate. 

“there’s no one else but me,” he shrugs. “i’ll have to take over eventually, so i might as well start now.” 

“i guess you’re right,” you mumble. “is there anything that would make you stay?”

“you.” jay says honestly. “but we both know it’s too late.”

“i guess you’re right,” you sigh, playing with your food, your appetite is gone. 

“sorry,” he apologizes. “not to get your hopes up or anything.”

“it’s fine, i figured you’d say that,” you get up and walk towards the kitchen to put your dishes in the sink. 

the next day you ask jay when his flight would be leaving at the airport. he tells you that his plane leaves at twelve. you make sure you’re there by ten. 

“jay!” you call out in the crowded airport when you spot the back of his head, his birthmark on his neck showing it’s him. 

“____!” he quickly gets up from his seat at his gate. “you’re early?” 

“i wanted to get you alone before everyone else comes!” 

“oh,” jay scratches the back of his neck. “it’s just you that’s coming.”

“what! why?” you say shocked.

“i said bye to everyone else yesterday, i wanted it to just be us.”

“what if you’re forgetting someone?” you frown. 

“i’m not leaving much behind,” jay shrugs. “moving brings me closer to my family and friends”

that bitter feeling started bubbling up inside of you. it was wrong to want to beg him not to leave you but there was a part of you that always wanted to be just a little selfish. enough to make him stay and commit to you, even long distance would suffice for you, but it wouldn’t for him. you knew that better than everyone. 

“oh,” you look at the ground. “are we not friends?”

“that’s not what i meant-” 

“it’s okay,” you can’t fight the frown on your face. “we’re not anything anyways.”

the rest of the time at the airport you sit at his gate in silence. a spot between you both as an invisible barrier. you badly want to leave and forget about jay but you won’t let him go until he has to get on the plane that will take him thousands of miles away from you. 

you want to talk to him but cannot find any words. tongue-tied next to the boy you’ve grown to love in the short remaining semester of your university career. 

jay cannot seem to find the right words either. you’re here right in front of him and he can’t just hold you close for the last hours you have together. anxiously checking the time on his phone leading up to boarding. 

“boarding starts in 20 minutes,” jay says quietly. 

“oh,” is all you can respond. 

“do you want to go for a walk?” he asks, you nod. 

the two of you walk side by side in circles in the area around his gate. in an uncomfortable silence, you are not used to having with jay. 

“i have to get going,” jay pauses, stopping the both of you in his tracks.

you’re voice is still lost, tears brimming your eyes, you can only wrap your arms around his torso and cry. 

“baby…” he whispers, drawing you in closer, if that was even possible. 

you can’t stop crying, hugging him as your vision turns blurry. 

“i’m sorry,” you finally stutter out, clutching a handful of his shirt. 

“for what?” jay asks in genuine confusion. 

“loving you when you said you weren’t looking for anything.”

“don’t say that,” he replies, feeling his own eyes getting teary. “it’s neither of our faults. time just wasn’t on our side. if i could i’d do anything just to be with you.” he says into your hair. 

you reluctantly let go and find your way out of the airport and to your car. once climbing into the driver's seat you let the rest of it out. sobbing until you could no longer produce any more tears. while jay does the same while he gazes out into the sky from his airplane seat. 

jay regrets not trying with you with every day that passes. he knows that the both of you could have made long-distance work but at the end of the day he knows he cannot live up to what you want. so he deems it best to ghost you while he’s in an american state. for work he claims but it seems more like a form of self-torture.

he can keep it together for the first couple of months of work, but soon his father notices something is up. he becomes frustrated with his son’s work, he hasn’t shown any growth in months and seems overall out of it. he sends him back home and tells jay to find himself before he even thinks about becoming a ceo. 

there’s a knock at your door on a late saturday night. you’re slightly tipsy from some wine you had been sipping on, walking to the door calmly with no idea who it might be.

on the other side of your door is park jongseong. suitcase behind him, with a bouquet with your favorite flowers. 

when he sees your face for the first time in a year he can only hope you’ll let him in to make up lost time.

“jay?” you say in disbelief, rubbing your eyes and wondering if the alcohol has already taken over your system. “you’re home?”

“i'm sorry if i'm coming home too late,” he says handing you the assorted flowers.

“why are you here?”

“‘cause this time i won’t be late.”

[minswriting]

Do I Wanna Know? - Step-Brother Spencer Reid x Reader

About: It’s not easy fucking for your nerdy and hot step-brother when feelings become involved.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, step-cest, step brother spencer, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, guilt, shame, unspoken pining, etc.

Word Count: 1702

“Have you got color in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift

The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you’re in so deep?

I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.”

Your mother married her husband a few months ago. At a time when they had only been together for a few months but they apparently just “knew” it was meant to be. Who were you to judge, really? If you know, you know. You were just glad that your mother was relatively happy. There was also that added bonus of having a very new step-brother.

Spencer Reid, a profiler for the BAU and now your step-brother, was this nerdy guy. He had an eidetic memory, dressed like a grandpa, and was extremely hot for no reason. The day you met him, you were overwhelmed by his attractiveness. And he was so awkward too, adding to the appeal. You don’t see him often strictly due to his work and the fact that he lives in D.C while you live in Las Vegas. But when he does, it’s as though you’re in heaven. And tomorrow, Spencer is flying out to visit.

“How many secrets can you keep?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow

And I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep

Spilling drinks on my settee.”

Spencer: I can’t wait to see you.

You: I can’t wait to have your face buried between my thighs.

Your phone buzzed with another text.

Spencer: That will be divine.

You couldn’t help the smirk that traveled on to your face. You remember the first time you ever initiated anything with Spencer. It was a month after the wedding. He had flown back to Las Vegas for a case he was working on and decided to stay at the house rather than in a hotel with his team members. You noticed the way he had looked at you whenever you guys saw one another. Like you were forbidden fruit. But he was always too awkward, too shy to say anything to you. You guys hardly spoke unless necessary.

That was until you cornered him one night after he had gotten back at three in the morning after his case had been concluded. You remember the words you had spoken to him. “I see the way you look at me,” You had said quietly but seductively. That night you had gotten on your knees and gave him the worlds best blow job imaginable. And ever since then, the two of you had a very secret thing going on.

Late night phone calls, sexy photos, videos of one another sent privately. The past few months had been absolutely blissful. The amount of orgasms that you had every week was astounding and you were absolutely never sick of it. Because you got to hear the hot and sexy sounds that Dr. Spencer Reid, your step-brother, make.

As the months had gone on, these late night phone calls would turn into more than just sex. Talks about your days, life, books you both had been reading, the shows you’ve been watching. What was supposed to be nothing more than physical was slowly becoming emotional. At least for you. These days you often wonder if Spencer felt a similar way. But that didn’t matter as much. You would never allow yourself to cross the emotional territory. Or at least you’d never actively admit it.

“(Do I wanna know?)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sorta hoping that you’d stay.

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

The day Spencer had arrived, you spent the day teasing him. You wore a red dress that covered just enough to be considered appropriate. But if you bent over in the slightest, which you certainly did, you could see the sexy red lingerie set you wore underneath, Spencer’s absolute favorite on you. He hadn’t had the opportunity to see it in person until now. After your family dinner and your parents had gone to bed, you had dragged Spencer to the bedroom, not even bothering to take your time.

Maybe it’s the way his tongue moves around your cunt, lapping up your juices. Or the way Spencer sucks on your clit, doing whatever he can to bring you the most pleasure. All you know is that you have to try your damn hardest to keep quiet, to make sure neither your mother or his father wake up to hear what their children are up to. Spencer’s face is buried in your pussy, tonguing your hole while his nose runs against your clit. If hell were real, you definitely would be going with how much you enjoy fucking your step-brother. And it would be absolutely worth it if you get to live this lifetime underneath Spencer.

When you finish twice from his tongue, Spencer finally removes his face from your cunt. His face glimmering from your juices as he reaches his hands to undo his shirt. You were already naked, something Spencer had done as soon as you closed the door of the bedroom. As he took off his shirt, Spencer licked his lips, looking at you with a look that you couldn’t quite interpret.

You knew this was wrong. So ridiculously wrong. He was practically family, at least legally. He was supposed to be your brother, someone you can depend on. Well you certainly depend on Spencer for something. And it’s certainly not for anything family friendly either. You’ve tried calling it quits. Three weeks in, you tried leaving it be by not calling Spencer or texting him. You only lasted a day before you started craving him again.

“Crawling back to you

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?

‘Cause I always do.

Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.

Now, I’ve thought it through

Crawling back to you.”

With you laying on your back while Spencer pounds into you like his life depended on it, you were absolutely trying so hard not to moan like the slut you know you are. You had a fist to your mouth while you looked at Spencer, who was leaned over you, arms on either side of your head, while his cock was thrusting in and out of your tight pussy.

“You’re so wet,” Spencer whispered shakily, looking at you in your eyes. “So tight. I could be buried inside you forever.”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips as you looked back up at Spencer. The look in his eye. the one you can’t quite put a name to, was still there. Lust? Guilt? Love? It couldn’t possibly be the last one.

“Have you got the guts?

Been wondering if your heart’s still open

And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts

Simmer down and pucker up

I’m so sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp

Of trying to kiss you

I don’t know if you feel the same way as I do

But we could be together if you wanted to.”

His lips went to yours, kissing you like you were his last breath and he needed you to hold on for life. His cock plunging into you at a rapid pace. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of skin slapping skin and the wet sounds of your pussy. Had your mother and his father been awake, they’d certainly question the noises going on.

“(Do I wanna know)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sorta hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you (crawling back to you)

Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? (You've had a few?)

'Cause I always do ('cause I always do)

Maybe I'm too (maybe I'm too busy)

Busy being yours (being yours)

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

Crawling back to you”

You could feel the heat building in your abdomen as Spencer’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly. “Oh fuck,” you whisper moaned, breaking off the kiss. “So close, Spence.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “Cum for me like a good girl.” He continued his movements, fucking you to completion.

You let out a whine, trying hard to not be loud as your orgasm grew closer. Spencer reached down between the two of you, rubbing your clit. And you gasped loudly, bringing your hand back to your mouth as your walls tightened around Spencer’s cock. Within seconds you were cumming, hard, spilling your juices onto his cock and onto the mattress. Your back arched as you came, your toes curling from the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Spencer followed you, cumming inside of you with ropes and ropes of his cum, filling you with not a single care in the world. Maybe it was a sick thought on his part. Maybe if he got you pregnant, he could finally claim you as his. Or maybe that was just your fantasy. You were on the pill, it was very unlikely.

Afterwards, it’s the cuddling. The soft words spoken about how beautiful you are and how good you did that make your heart flutter in your chest. The way Spencer looked at you with that same look. And in your heart you absolutely knew what that look was. Love. Adoration. Mesmerized by you. Your step-brother loved you. Just like you loved him.

But you’d never admit it out loud. Neither of you would. Because your circumstances wouldn’t allow for such a thing to happen.

So in the shadows you guys remain, caught in your own little bubble where it’s nothing more than sex. But the calls while he’s away become more frequent, more about missing one another and wanting to hear each other. Many words spoken and yet many remained unspoken. Just as it will remain.

[f10werfae]

From Kissies to Sex

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x Shy!Reader

summary: After a brief argument Henry comes back to claim his precious babygirl’s virginity, after giving her second set of sweet lips a few kissies (DILF!Henry) (Dom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/ Disclaimer 18+

Henry Masterlist, Lumberjack masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“baby bun, I told ya m’sorry, when are ya gonna let me back between those sweet legs a’ yours” Henry cooed brushing a bit of hair behind her ear, having just snuck in through her bedroom window now her grandparents were out. “I-i’m still upset, y-you promised to take m-me with you o-on your n-next trip! I-instead y-you left m-me here” She whimpered tugging on the bottom of his shirt, like a naive mindless little bunny, ignoring his hands that were busy massaging her bust through her shirt; his fingers circling her hardened nipples.

Having been dating for a couple of weeks now, it’s safe to say that Y/n found herself clinging to Henry like a puppy, her hands always wrapped around him and his around her. The furthest they had gone was him giving her pussy little “kissies” until it made her feel good, in fact it was practically normal for her to just sit her pretty ass right onto his face, especially after a hard day’s work; he needed his favourite sugary treat.

So when he was due for a log collection trip two hours out of town, little miss bossy pants stomped her foot saying she needed to go to keep her man company, how else would he live without his sweet sugar cube? Only for Henry to go on without her, being away for the better part of only 12 hours, but still that was 12 hours!

When he tried to call his baby up as soon as he got back for a sleepover, he was met with nothing but voicemails and declines, which led him to now. Sneaking into her bedroom while she was home alone, with the last time they spoke to each other just being two days ago.

“I know honey, I know, but are ya really gonna push me away? Future father of ya kids, ya future husband, your Henry?” He whispered stepping forward until she fell on top of her pink sheets, her body scrambling up against the headboard as he crawled up to her, their noses nudging against each other playfully as her hands cupped his bearded cheeks. “D-do ya promise to bring m-me next time? I don’t l-like n-not bein’ with ya” She whined kissing his lips softly, her glossy lips ghosting over his then kissing both his cheeks.

“I pinky promise sweetheart, now come on, don’t ya think I deserve my treat?” He tilted his head flopping down beside her, shuffling around to get himself comfy, watching as she stood up on her bed; flipping up her sun dress she held both his hands as she squatted down onto his face. His mouth kissing against her core as his nose nudged her clit, his hands grabbing onto her ass cheeks for dear life. “W-woah, feels good” She moaned out softly rocking herself back and forth on his face, his tongue venturing deep into her hole, his eyes peering deeply into hers as she bit her lips.

Humming against her mound, Henry felt her juices start to coat his face and beard, some of it even leaking down his cheeks onto her soft blankets; his nose manoeuvring her precious button to chase her release. “N-need more kisses, p-please?” She whimpered sitting up a bit more to hover over his face, letting her older man collect his breath before he growled and pulled her back onto his face. His face moving side to side rapidly as he slurped up all her juices, giving her one last tongue kiss down there before patting her ass to shift her down to his lap.

“Was that enough kisses for my baby bun? Did ya enjoy my lips on your cunt? Ya gonna deprive me of it again?”

“N-no never!” She gasped out as Henry started grounding her hips onto his bulge, her bare skin rubbing against his jeans, watching on as he unzipped his jeans to reveal his brief covered cock. “My sweet sweet girl, I can’t wait to bury myself in your soft puffy pussy, hear you moan and call out for me, how much you love me” He whispered caressing her jaw, smirking proudly as he watched her explore and take out his shaft, her mouth gaping open at the mere size of it.

Her face growing shy at the confession of him knowing her true feelings, as if she didn’t talk in her sleep about how much she loved him. “Y-you love me too right?” She beamed slowly stroking him up and down with her fist, giggling and squealing once he nodded and told her how much he needed and loved her. How she was his and his alone.

Pulling the rest of her dress off her he felt himself throb at the sight of her, “D-don’t look too hard o-okay?” She mumbled crossing her arms to hide herself, suddenly feeling insecure under his dark intimidating gaze. “Sugar pie, m’ gonna look all day every day for the rest of my darn life, you’re so goddamn beautiful” He crooned looking all over, his hands cupping each of her breasts, chuckling once he saw how her nipples hardened in his grasp

“Wait!Wait! T-turn them around” She whispered pointing to the array of stuffed plushies on her bed, collected from all the times Henry had won at the state fair, with Y/n call them their “babies” Nodding he turned around trying to hold in a chuckle, turning each teddy around so they weren’t witnessing this pornographic act. “Now m-m’ ready” She whispered leaning up with her hands on Henry’s shoulders, gasping as he flicked the head of his cock along her folds, pulling and stroking at the slickness to coat himself.

“Are ya sure you’re ready sweets?”

“You promise it won’t hurt?”

“I’ll try my best sugar, you just relax and let me do this okay? Jus’ sit n’ look pretty for your man” He sighed out slowly sitting her down onto his length, her voice crying out at the sensation of being stretched out, she really did feel like she was being split in two. It didn’t help that Henry’s mouth and tongue were wandering over her breasts, causing an overwhelming sense of touch to cloud her brain. “You’re okay baby, you’re doin’ so good for me, so prouda ya” He cooed pushing her hair back away from her face, her mouth wide open as drool came from the corner of her mouth.

“S-so deep n’ big” She gasped out finally feeling him bottoming out inside of her, his hands resting on her ass when she leant forward to wrap herself around his torso, her hips eagerly moving against his in tiny movements. Slowly he started to bounce her up and down on top of him, her voice matching the rhythm of his thrusts as she cried and moaned out, “c-can feel you in my t-tummy” “M-my clit, p-play with her” “W-wanna hug”

That last statement nearly made Henry coat her with his cum then and there, the thought of her nothing wanting more than to be EVEN closer to him was so adorable and sexy. Pulling her off of him he dragged her back into his chest, as he lifted up one of her legs delicately, running himself through his folds once again before delving back in. His arm wrapped around her waist tightly whilst the other groped both her breasts greedily, even grabbing at the skin on her hips and stomach like a mad man. “S-so warm n’ s-snuggly, l-like a bear” Y/n whimpered out clearly cockdrunk, her mind running 100 miles an hour from the pure ecstasy she was feeling, Henry’s wet lips travelling over her shoulder and back.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth bun, need to kiss those purty’ lips of yours” He growled taking a hand and using it to turn her head to the side, his tongue drooling into her mouth as he dipped in and sucked on her tongue, both their faces soon turning wet and slobbery from their kiss. “Mmm want more kissies” She whined reaching up to kiss him again, this time clamping her lips onto his as she clenched her hole around him, Henry swallowing her squeals and grunts.

“Never leavin’ ya sugar, n’ you ain’t leavin’ me, ya hear me?” He whispered kissing her chin, spanking her tits as they moved and jiggled wildly, “mhm d-don’t wanna leave, wanna stay with you bear” She mumbled laying her head back down onto the pillow, feeling Henry fucking her own cum back inside her as he himself chased his finish. A slosh of white cream surrounding the base of his cock each time he thrusted up, evidence of both of them mixing together as one, how he finally claimed her as his woman.

“Too sensitive” She rasped out as Henry slowed down, as he slowly thrusted inside of her for another 10 minutes, just kissing and loving on her sensually. Until he finally slipped out and let her turn around to face him, her breathing still rapid as he pulled her arms over his waist, lifting her leg up to see how he was still dripping out of her lips, “stop lookin! s’embarrassin’” She whined pulling her leg back down as she glowered at him, huffing while he smiled and kissed her forehead, immediately breaking a smile onto her face.

“What ya don’t wanna see our baby bein made?” He joked running his hands up and down her body, pulling her closer to him, their chests flushed together. “I have to go home soon ya know that right? Your grandparents will be ‘ere soon” He whispered pressing a chaste kiss to her nose, watching it wrinkle cutely in response.

“D-don’t go! I-I wanna cuddle and hug n’ kiss” She said seemingly clinging onto him harder, “O-or bring me with you?” She offered looking up to see a smile forming on his face, she got him there,

“Ok fine, but you’re goin’ naked, that okay with ya?” He smirked standing up and fixing himself up, just wrapping her up in one of her fluffy blankets as he carried her out of the room a squirming mess, her giggles and laughs going unnoticed by Henry as he tucked her caterpillar shaped cocoon into the passenger seat. Clicking in her seatbelt with a soft wet kiss to the lips and a pinch to her cheek, letting her shuffle over to him once he got in, her head on his shoulder as they drove off towards the mountainous hills. Their home grounds.

———

psa: hope you all enjoy finding out about their first real sexcapade together 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist

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See you all at the next update, lots of love🫶

[lucysgraybird]

Erm i js read ur pregnancy fic, is it possible for u to write an alternative version yk a happy one ??? 😭 it was rlly good tho but that hurttt

YES babe ofc im so sorry 🙏 i saw angst and it got away from me. sorry for losing my head. here is an alternate ending to this fic

warnings: labour/childbirth, blood mention, deeply unrealistic (should've put this on the other one too! i am an 18 year old virgin i know where babies come from and that's it)

The night the baby comes is dark and peaceful: there hasn't been more than a soft fall of rain in weeks, and the spring has brought balmy evenings that have made chores almost a gift to do.

Even more of a blessing is the time after chores, curled up on the porch under Billy’s arm. He's twisting the ends of your hair around his fingers absently, and you twist to look up at his face.

“What's on your mind, honey?”

“Hm?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Billy. Are you worrying about something?”

He tucks his chin over your head and you hum contentedly at being wrapped up in him, safe and warm.

“Just thinkin’ about the baby is all,” he says. “What we're gonna name her and that stuff.”

You laugh. “I bet it'll come to us in the moment. We don't even know if the baby’s a girl.”

“I do.” He slides his arm off your shoulder to your waist, placing his hand flat against your rounded belly. “Gonna be the best little girl, and she's gonna look just like her mama.”

"Mm...with your eyes, if we're lucky."

You crane your neck to peck Billy on the lips, coaxing a smile from your husband. Out of nowhere, a cramp twists through your lower back and you cover Billy’s hand with yours, wincing. He shifts you off his chest slightly to look at you.

“You okay?”

The pain passes and you can breathe again – it's not something you've felt before, but you know things get weirder the bigger the baby gets.

“Fine, yeah. I think she was moving around or something.”

Billy gives your stomach a firm look, which coaxes a laugh out of you and chases away your nerves.

“‘s not the baby’s fault, honey,” you say. “She's just getting comfy.”

“You're sure you're alright?” He confirms. “I can ride into town and-”

“I'm good. You don't need to worry, okay?”

He nods and pulls you back against him, his body a shelter from any worries.

As the night creeps on, there are a few more cramps but nothing notable, and you're able to fall asleep almost immediately when the time comes.

That is, until the middle of the night, when you wake up with your entire core on fire.

“Billy,” you whimper, grabbing for his arm.

He groans, still mostly asleep.

“The baby’s coming, Billy, you gotta-” You pause, a bolt of pain too great to speak through wracking your body for a moment. “You gotta go get the doctor.”

That wakes him immediately, and he's rolling out of bed before his eyes are even completely open. He takes in your face, screwed tight and shiny with sweat, and he's trying to get ready and comfort you at the same time.

“It's okay, darlin’, you're gonna be okay,” he says, not even bothering to take off his pajamas before tugging his work clothes over them and shoving his feet into his boots. “I’m gonna get the midwife and she'll take care of you.”

For all his confident words, his voice trembles and breaks at the end of his sentence from seeing you in this much hurt, which sends tears spilling down your cheeks. Billy scrambles for the door, then back to you to press a kiss to your forehead and a hand to your cheek.

“Gonna be fine, darlin'. I'll be back as quick as I can.”

You don't even have time to reply before he's out the door and gone.

The pain only increases while he's gone, time going hazy and strange. You can't figure out how long ago Billy left, or how long it should be until he's back – you can't really think of much besides the ache throbbing from your pelvis to your chest. Noises that don't sound like your own are tearing themselves from your throat as you writhe in bed, trying to find anything that'll ease the pain.

Soon (or maybe not soon at all, you can't say), Billy is bursting back into your room, the midwife hot on his tail. She takes one look at you and turns to Billy.

“I need boiling water and strips of cloth.”

Billy nods wordlessly and disappears out to the kitchen. You didn't realize how desperate you were for him until he was gone, and a new bout of sobs streak down your face.

“Oh, lovey,” the midwife says as she strips back your covers. “Your boy will be back soon, he's just helping me keep you safe while you're in labour. Can you tell me how far you are along?”

She tugs your nightgown up around your hips, and you're in too much pain to feel any shame.

“Baby’s right on time,” you groan. “Just about nine months.”

Your body bows forward with another stab just as Billy walks through the door with a steaming pot of water and strips of a clean sheet, and he nearly drops everything in his haste to get to you. Once he's sure that the midwife has what she needs, he's settling next to you, offering a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to lean on.

“You may want to step out, Mr. Bonney, this-”

“I'm stayin’,” he says, surely putting on a brave face when you grip his hand like a vice. To you, he soothes, “Hold on as hard as you need, darlin’, you're not gonna hurt me.”

“Okay then,” the midwife says. “Get ready to push, lovey, this baby is just about to come out.”

You don't even have to think when the time comes, a baser instinct taking over for you. It hurts like nothing has before and a wail chokes out of your mouth. Billy is still holding you, whispering sweet nothings that you can't quite hear against your temple. His lips are dry on the skin there, and it's grounding in the sea of sticky and hot that you're swimming in.

Suddenly, the pressure in your pelvis changes, but the pain doesn't. Everything is so wet. What is that?

“I'm going to insist you step back now, Mr. Bonney,” the midwife says.

You look up at your husband, whose skin is ash-white against his dark hair.

“Billy…?”

"You're okay, darlin', I'm just gonna let the midwife take care of you." His voice is shaking in a way that makes you nauseated, and the world is swimming around you on top of that.

He goes to step away, just as the midwife requested, and heartbreak rips across his face when you reach out for him. Then there's another gush of wetness and a dizzying wash of pain: the last thing you see before you pass out is the form of a baby in Billy’s arms and the most genuine fear you've ever seen on his face.

When you wake, it's just Billy in the room, cradling a bundle of blankets in a chair he's dragged to the bedside. He's up as soon as you wake, trying to smooth a hand over your head and hold the baby properly at the same time.

“Hey, darlin’, how are you feeling?”

You try to sit up and immediately throw in the towel, groaning. “Tired. And sore. Is the baby okay? What happened?”

“Baby’s just fine,” he says, tilting the bundle to show you a wrinkled, sleeping little face. “The midwife says she's the healthiest baby she's seen in a while.”

A soft smile blooms on your face. There's a relief warming you from the inside-out that you've never felt before.

“You were right about the baby being a girl, then.”

“Mhm.” There's a teasing pride in his hum, and you use a little of your waning energy to nudge his shoulder with your head. “I haven't thought of a name yet, though.”

“Can I hold her?”

Billy hands her to you wordlessly, helping you settle your arms around her.

“She's so small.”

“And she's already caused a lot of trouble for her mama,” Billy says.

He's joking, but when you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes.

“Honey, are you-”

“I'm okay, I'm okay. It was just a lot of blood, and I didn't know what was goin’ on. I thought you…”

The sentence ends there, but you know where he was going, and you lean into him.

“Can't get rid of me that easy, cowboy. We got a little girl to raise.”

The baby stirs a little in your arms, then settles back into a deep sleep. You watch her thoughtfully.

“Billy,” you say.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“How would you feel about naming her Kathleen? After your mother?”

There's dead silence for a moment before Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think that's perfect,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to go any louder without breaking. “If that's what you want.”

“It is. Welcome to the world, Kathleen Bonney,” you say, and Billy wraps an arm around you. It is a perfect tableau: mother, father, and baby, and all the love there is in the world.

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Dear John

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Prompt - ‘Run as fast as you can.’

When you had first met House hadn’t known what to think of the man. You hadn’t caught his attention, less vocal than some of the others competing for a fellowship under him but he had caught yours. He was so self-assured, the way he walked into a room and immediately started talking, not needing to see if he had everyone’s attention because he already knew he did. The games he played, putting you all against each other so obviously, eliminating people from any chance of a fellowship mid-sentence. 

You hadn’t known if he was a good man, it was hard to determine when you were in such a competitive environment where the man only wanted the best of the best but you had known he was a good doctor, sure he might not have given a damn about the patient but he was always determined to get a diagnosis. 

You had caught his attention two weeks into the fight for a fellowship. It had been an impossible case, not even he could figure it out, no matter how long he spent bouncing ideas back and forth just like the ball he threw against the wall. It was driving him crazy and even worse was that none of his potential fellows could figure it out either, how was he meant to create another perfect team when this lot couldn’t come up with anything? 

That was the day he noticed you. Of course he’d seen you before but you hadn’t done anything to catch his attention. He’d seen the way you’d open your mouth to say something only to close it, he’d seen you stick to the back of the group. He hadn’t said anything though, sure you were pretty and any other time he would’ve been all over you but it wasn’t worth his time if you weren’t going to be around long enough to make it fun. 

He stood at the front of the room, the remaining 26 hopefuls sat in seats around the room, all silently contemplating the case. House’s gaze shifted around the room, seeing nothing but stumped and defeated looks until he got to you.  

You were the only one in the room, himself included, who didn’t look disappointed, in fact you were sitting up straight in your seat whereas everyone else had slumped in theirs. Your eyebrows were knitted together, not in a frown but in a way that told House your thoughts were running wild. 

“You, number 7, come with me.” House said suddenly, watching as you startled in your seat and looked at him wide eyed as every gaze in the room turned to you. “Now.”

House didn’t wait after that, turning on his heels and leaving the room, hearing your footsteps hurrying behind him. He didn’t say anything in the elevator, staying silent until you both stood looking into the patient's room.

“What’s your diagnosis then, number 7?” He finally asked and your head shot from the patient to stare at House but he kept his eyes forward, waiting for you to speak.

“I don’t-”

“Oh don’t do that.” House interrupted, turning to glare at you. “Every single person in that room looked devastated. They couldn’t figure this out but you, no you have a diagnosis. You wanna work for me? Speak up, even if it’s idiotic it gives us something new to work with. So, go, what’s your theory?”

You took a shaky breath, letting his words roll around your head for a moment before nodding and turning back to look at the patient.

“Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease.” You said, watching House out of the corner of your eye to see his eyebrows knit together. “Her husband said nearly a year ago she became clumsy, people with CJD lose balance and coordination, they see double or they have blind spots. He said it became worse a few months ago and this causes loss of brain function and mobility, her brain is forgetting how to do the things she’s been doing her whole life. Add that with going from a highly respected professor to not knowing basic answers to the questions we’ve asked, it makes sense.” You defended your theory, shifting to look back at House as he stayed silent, showing no signs of how he felt about your answer. “I know it’s a rare disease but-”

“You’re right.” House said as he cut you off again and you could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “It makes sense. Have a biopsy done to confirm.”

And that was that. House walked away leaving you staring at him before you were able to snap yourself back to reality and do as he requested.

House had been surprised by you. He had honestly expected that you wouldn’t have made it much further into this little game he had made of gaining a fellowship but now, now he suspected you’d already won and he was more than happy to focus his attention on you now.

After that day House watched as you grew, confident in yourself now and offering theories and diagnosis’. You blushed and stammered under his newly given attention but refused to give into the man’s request of dinner or skipping the meal and heading straight to the bedroom.

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in him, you were but you refused to let anything happen, needing to know that if you were awarded a fellowship it would be because you deserved it not because you were sleeping with the man giving them out. 

Once you were in though you held out for only a few weeks before you found yourself sat opposite the doctor in a surprisingly nice restaurant, House seemingly making an effort with his appearance and it was easy to let yourself get swept up with him and even easier to let your guard down.

It didn’t matter that he was your boss, it didn’t matter that he was years older than you, all you cared about was how he made you feel. 

And so just like that you found yourself getting wrapped up in House, whether it be going out together for food after work or falling into bed with him, suddenly your whole life was consumed by House.

“So you and House, huh?” Cameron asked as you sat down at one of the tables in the cafeteria, taking a seat opposite you with her own lunch.

“What about it?” You asked, frowning slightly at her. 

You hadn’t spent much time with House’s old fellows, only Foreman who had been brought back whilst you were fighting for a spot. From what you heard Cameron and House used to have a thing but you hadn’t pried, not sure how serious it ever got or if it had just been a fling. 

“You like him?” She asked, ignoring your question and you tried to figure out what her plan was. “I’m not here to cause trouble, me and House, there was never anything there.”

“There was something.” You told her and watched as she sighed.

“I had a crush on him. I realised it was a bad idea.” She told you after a moment to think about it.

“Why?” 

“You want my advice?” She asked you, sitting up in her seat and continuing without giving you a chance to answer. “When it comes to House, just run. Run as fast as you can because that man is incapable of putting somebody else’s feelings before himself. This won’t end the way you want it to and you’ll be left alone, heartbroken and angry. You’ll have to see him at work and you’ll hate it.”

“Thanks for the advice but just because it ended badly for you doesn’t mean it will for me.” You said, standing from your seat and leaving the cafeteria.

Cuddy was the next person to warn you away from him. She had managed to catch you just as you were heading towards your car and told you to be careful, told you that you were a good doctor and she’d hate to see House ruin that.

You weren’t so sure what to say so just smiled politely and excused yourself, brushing off her warning just as you had Cameron’s. 

You refused to think much more about the two of them as you pulled up to House’s and the man let you in, immediately attaching his lips to yours and pushing all thoughts and warnings out of your head.

It stayed good for a while, or maybe it had never been good and you were just so blinded by your feelings for him that you couldn’t see how bad it was. 

When things eventually took a turn you tried so hard to blame it on something else, convinced yourself that it was just the pain in his leg that made his mood shift more often than you were used to. 

“We had plans.” You said into the phone, already sitting in the restaurant House had said he would meet you at after his meeting with Cuddy. 

“This is important.” House told you, his tone even and not showing much concern for the fact that he was standing you up. “It’s just dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s just dinner.” You nodded even as your heart sank.

The next time he called you it was like it was a different man, so apologetic and full of promises to take you out again, to make it up to you. You had smiled and written his earlier behaviour off as Cuddy frustrating him but it started happening more and more to the point you dreaded answering his calls, not sure which version of House was going to be waiting on the other side.

You were more than used to getting stood up at this point, House differed between having excuses for not showing up or just brushing you off when you finally did manage to catch him. 

You could feel yourself becoming drained, dealing with House’s mood swings was starting to take its toll on you. The nights you spent with him where just as confusing as everything else, some days, usually the days he had seen you withdrawing, he showered you in affection, kissed every inch of your body and made you feel so loved, other days he shut you out, glared and snapped at you until you left and somehow always managed to make you feel like it was your fault. 

Even during work, House made you feel useless, no matter how right your diagnosis was, no matter how much the others stuck up for you it was like you couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t remember how many times you’d walked away and cried silently in the toilets or gone home only to cry yourself to sleep.

You hated that you felt so bad about yourself, you hated that you were doing everything you could to please this man and he always made you feel like you were the problem. You hated that you hadn’t taken Cameron and Cuddy’s warnings when they were given, hated that you were so wrapped up in how good House made you feel that you had let him treat you like you were nothing just to soak up the small bits of whatever this sick, twisted thing he had convinced you was love was.

House liked his puzzles, he liked his games and he liked answers. He liked knowing how far he could push you and still have you running back to him, still having you thinking he could do no wrong.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t keep running away from the hospital in tears, you couldn’t keep playing his games with their ever changing rules that you couldn’t understand.

“You can’t leave, we can work this out.” House told you, a soft hurt look on his face.

You’d usually fall for it, usually shake your head like you were being foolish and fall into his arms, savour the day or two of the House you had fallen for before starting the cycle all over again when he eventually turned cruel.

Now that you had made the decision to leave you couldn’t believe how you had missed how bad everything about your relationship with him had been. How had you been so blind?

“That won’t work anymore. Whatever game you’ve been playing with me is done, go find some other girl who’s too naive, who wants to believe there’s good in people to mess with because I’m done.” You told him, feeling a spike of pride for finally standing up to him.

“What game? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” House sighed, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m sorry, I know things have been rough but I’ll be better. I promise.”

You’d believed that the first time. And the second. And third and fourth time. 

You wouldn’t fall for it again.

“Bye House.” You said softly.

“Don’t do this.” He pleaded with you but you ignored him and turned to walk out of his office.

On the way down to Cuddy’s office you bumped into Cameron and because word spread like wildfire in the hospital she gave you a sad smile.

“I hate to say it but I told you so.” Cameron said and you couldn’t help but laugh, a small laugh that bubbled into a slightly maniacal one.

“I promise to listen to you next time.” You swore and Cameron laughed back, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“If you ever need anything…” Cameron told you and you nodded gratefully, smiling back at her before her pager alerted her she was needed and you said goodbye, heading into Cuddy’s office.

Cuddy was sympathetic, she’d been waiting months for this meeting, knowing that at some point House was going to ruin it and send one of their best fellows running out the door. 

“If you decide to come back I’ll find you a spot somewhere, somewhere far away from House.” Cuddy told you and you smiled at her, thankful for your time at the hospital and hoping one day you would take her up on her offer. “It’s a shame to lose you.”

“Thank you for everything.” You told her softly before standing and shaking the hand she reached out towards you.

“You’re really just gonna leave? Like this meant nothing to you?” House asked as you left the clinic, walking alongside you towards the exit.

“I loved you, House, and all I wanted was for you to love me back but all you ever did was mess with me. You never loved me, hell you never even cared about me!” You told him, yanking your arm from him when he tried to stop you.

“Oh please, I missed a few dates and suddenly I’m the bad guy.” House rolled his eyes and there he went again, trying to make you the problem.

“House, I’m done. I’m done trying to get you to love me, I’m done playing your games, to shifting my whole life to revolve around you. I’m done feeling like I’m not good enough. Tell everyone it’s me who doesn't understand you, who betrayed you, say whatever you want but I’m done with you.” You told him, refusing to let your eyes tear up, knowing House would see it and jump on it.

You took a deep breath, behind him Cuddy was making her way out of the clinic, watching you and House carefully but you just shook your head because you didn’t need her to intervene. 

You weren’t lying when you told House you were done so you ignored whatever retort he had and turned away from him, walking out of the door and finally let the tears fall, sitting in your car until you were able to breathe properly before making your way home with tears running down your cheeks.

Doctor Gregory House Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!) - 

@softmullet, @wheredidiputmyfish, @famouscrusadsluminary, @missabsey

[kinardsevan]

HC? Or something crossed my mind idk, Tommy volunteer as a big brother/or just to help in a group home, and have a special bond with one of the kids there since he sees himself in him..

because I messed up the responses, this is @thatmexisaurusrex's request for Buck & Tommy calling eachother on a slow afternoon at work.

This is m-rated, nearing explicit, towards the end. Nothing too graphic, but definitely suggestive. also, since we're just existing in previous universes of mine today, this one fits in the same world as the prompt for "bobby overhears Tommy call him his father-in-law".

-

Evan sighs, sinking down onto the ground on top of the firehouse. It’s beautiful outside, but the team is still on shift for roughly eight hours, and the shift has been…slow. They’ve only seen three calls so far, which feels a little ridiculous considering it’s a nice day outside, which usually means cookouts, bonfires, and generally reckless behavior when it comes to fire. 

Three. Fucking. Calls. 

He spins his phone on his knee briefly. He tries not to call Tommy too much on shift. They already live together and work in the same field. Granted, Tommy has never once complained about it in the past three years, and he always seems rather cheerful when Evan does call him on shift. But still. 

Any decision Evan thinks he has to make is quickly silenced when the phone starts buzzing in his hand, with the bolded text of “Husband” framed by two blue hearts pops up on his screen. A smile crawls its way across his face as he flips the phone into an upright position and clicks the little green phone icon, accepting the call. 

“Oh thank Jesus,” Tommy mutters with a groan. “I’m so bored.” 

Evan laughs. “Yeah. Me too.” 

“Are you guys doing any better over there?” Tommy whines. “I’ve been on two flights today, and they were both done within an hour.” 

Evan chuckles again. “Three calls so far. Last one was about four hours ago. Cap says everything coming in right now has been east of Pasedena or down in Panorama City. Too far out for us unless it goes three-alarm or higher.” 

Tommy huffs, leaning back wherever he is. Evan assumes he must be in 1701 because it looks like he’s on the floor of a chopper. 

“I have deep cleaned everything in sight, inventoried the helicopters and both planes, even helped with some of the inventory on the trucks,” Tommy says. “Checked up on current registrations and certifications. There’s not a damn thing to do.” 

Evan can only smile at his husband as the older man complains. For all the times they’ve complained to one another over Facetime while on shift, Tommy has never been one to actually complain about being at work with nothing to do. 

Tommy huffs, but after a moment, his eyes are on the screen of his phone again, and he furrows his brow. “Why do you look so entertained at my misery?” 

Evan smirks at him. “I like seeing you flustered. It’s kinda hot, honestly.” 

Tommy gives him that look; the one that silently tells him to tread carefully, unless he wants to find himself pressed into a mattress or countertop sobbing for release. 

“Hey, so what was that story Charlie was telling at the wedding,” Evan asks, referencing back to their discussion over cigars a few weeks back. 

“No, Evan,” Tommy replies, and the tone is there now too. Evan’s lips twitch with unfettered cunning, knowing he’s pushing Tommy’s buttons. 

“Oh come on,” Evan states, clearly egging him on. “Didn’t I hear something about a screwdriver down?” 

Tommy’s jaw clenches and he just shakes his head, although there’s no hiding the way the corners of his mouth are twitching, desperately trying to give in to the smile that he’s trying not to give his husband. 

“You know we’re going into a four day after this,” Tommy reminds him, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “You might want to tread carefully.” 

Evan raises an eyebrow at him, grinning lasciviously back at Tommy. “I think you assume that I didn’t consider that already.” 

Tommy stares at him from the tiny screen, and even though nothing about his expression changes, there’s a multitude of unspoken words shared between them. The smoldering in his eyes that tells Evan about nights pressed back-to-chest, nails drug across his chest and Tommy grinding with fervor, drawing sinful noises out of Evan like it’s his job. The slight twitch of his eyebrows suggests afternoons lost to ‘don’t move an inch or we’ll start all over’ . The way his tongue slips between his lips to wet them calling up memories of being chest-to-chest, teeth biting necks and shoulders, nails dug into spines, tongues lapping into mouths that swallow sobs like water in a desert. 

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to turn yourself up to eleven for the next four days,” Tommy warns, and the smirk on Evan’s face entirely suggests that he does not care. Turned up to eleven is the implication of total control turned over to his husband in the bedroom, whereas one is them meeting on an even field, usually when they want to take it slow and eject romance into things. 

But Evan just did that for a week and a half in Havana. He’s more than happy to turn things up to eleven. Let Tommy work him over. 

“Please, Daddy,” he replies softly, pulling the phone close to his face so that Tommy hears him but no one else does. His tone is just this side of breathy, barely moaning. Still, Tommy’s neck flushes, and Evan knows he has him. 

“When do you get off again,” Tommy asks, switching the subject. Evan pulls the screen down on his phone and then back up. 

“Like seven and a half hours,” he replies. 

Tommy nods. He’s up and moving again, and after a moment, Evan hears a door close, and the smirk reappears on his face. Tommy’s finding privacy. 

Evan pushes himself up from the ground, walking further from the door for rooftop access. It’s unlikely that anyone is coming up to bug him, given that Eddie was taking a nap last he checked and Hen and Chimney were locked into an intense game of Mario Kart. Athena was around for a visit, keeping Bobby entertained. 

Tommy’s phone rests on some kind of countertop and Evan grins as he sinks down into a chair. 

“So when you get home,” Tommy states, pulling at the zipper on his flight suit. He’s doing it slowly, and Evan can tell it’s on purpose. He gulps down the wave of saliva flooding his mouth. 

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Tommy reaches a hand in, pulling up the t-shirt he has on under the flight suit, although his hand stops halfway up his chest, only giving Evan the slightest sight of his abs where the zipper ends. Tommy leans forward then, pinning both hands on either side of the phone, out of frame. 

“You’re going to be a good boy,” Tommy states. It’s an order. Evan gulps, feeling himself starting to get uncomfortable in his pants. The slightest shift of his shoulder has Tommy lifting a hand, wagging a finger at him. 

“Ah ah ah,” he chastises. “No touching. Clock starts now and ends on Sunday.” 

Evan’s eyes go wide. They’ve never started something this early, let alone gone that long. Three days is about as long as he’s handed over control to Tommy, and even then, it usually begins and ends in their bedroom. This is a new layer, and he’s hot under the collar just thinking about the implications. 

Tommy stares at him for a long moment, that extends long enough that Evan realizes he’s supposed to respond. If he has any reservations against the ideas, now would be the time to say something. Granted, Tommy would never be upset with him if he decides to safeword out early, but he’s also silently asking if it’s okay to start now. 

“Okay,” Evan rasps, clenching his hand into a fist and resting it on his knee. It’s all he can do not to moan because he swears just by saying yes he gets harder. Tommy waggles an eyebrow at him, pulling his t-shirt. He adjusts it and fiddles it the zipper, clearly trying to play with Evan the same way the younger man was just playing with him. 

“I’ll be home an hour later,” Tommy reminds him. Evan nods. “I expect to find you silenced and waiting.” 

The slightest moan passes Evan’s lips. Tommy wants him gagged and on his knees, hands behind his back. 

“Sh-…C-can I prep?” Evan stammers, his voice husky with wanton. 

It’s Tommy’s turn to smirk now as he shakes his head slowly. 

“The only way mi amor gets to prepare is if it happens naturally. Everything else will be taken care of when I get home.” 

Evan shudders, and the heat in Tommy’s gaze, the grin on his face, is almost enough to make him feel like his heart is going to give out. He's not allowed to do anything to himself, but if he's aroused, Tommy expects it to happen without any assistance of his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters softly. Tommy grins at him, and then a moment later, someone is knocking on the door of whatever room he’s in. Evan can hear Lucy’s voice briefly, asking questions but not clearly enough that he can make everything out. A moment later, Tommy glances back at the phone. 

“I have to go. I’ll see you at home in a while.” 

Evan nods, forcing himself to take deep breaths. “See you at home.” 

The call ends a moment later, and he has to stay in the chair and keep breathing. There’s no way he can go back inside right now; he’d be roasted for his unmistakeable boner. 

He checks the time on his phone again, and it’s all he can do to stifle a groan. Eight hours. Eight hours until he’s with Tommy in person again. He can hold on until then. He has to.

Eight. Long. Hours. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {12}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: daddy!Lando struggles with balancing work and parenthood Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, mentions of pregnancy and birth WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Lando was uneasy as he made his first appearance for the new race season, arriving in Bahrain alone. He could constantly be found on his phone, distracted, and every spare moment he had was spent on a facetime call to you. 

“Good morning, love. How are my favourite girls?” he asked quietly as the video connected.

You smiled at the sight of your husband and panned the camera to the newborn asleep in the crook of your arm. “Missing daddy.”

“I miss you too.” The exhaustion in his blue eyes faded as he watched his daughter’s chest rise and fall for a few moments. “She looks like she’s grown.”

“You’ve only been gone one night, Lan,” you chuckled softly. 

“It feels like more.” He took a seat on the bed in his hotel and leaned against the headboard with a heavy sigh. “I thought I would actually be able to sleep through but I kept waking up because it was too quiet.”

“If it makes you feel better, I was the same,” you giggled. “She slept for a whole four hours straight last night but I still woke up after two. My boobs were huge by the time she woke up for a feed.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“You have a million pictures of my boobs on your phone.”

“And I want one more. I miss them too. And your lips, and your neck, and your thighs, and your-”

“I get it, you miss me,” you laughed, accidentally waking Renleigh. 

“Hi, princess, it’s daddy,” Lando cooed softly as her eyes fluttered open, giving him a peek of the blue irises they shared. “I wish I could hold you and give you the biggest kisses.”

He clutched the necklace hanging over his shirt and his finger ran over the engraving of her name and the date she was born, only six weeks ago. Those six weeks had gone by so fast, it was almost unbelievable. Everyone said that children grow up so quickly but he hadn’t believed it until in the blink of an eye he was packing his bag, leaving you and Renleigh safely at home. It felt like only yesterday he had held her for the first time.

“What am I doing?”

You knew he hadn’t meant to ask that aloud but you humoured him anyway. “Exactly what we planned. Four more sleeps and you will be right back where you belong, baby.”

Lando groaned at the thought of another four nights sleeping apart but he knew it was safer for Renleigh at home. The thought of bringing her to the races where thousands of people roamed the paddock induced panic into him and he took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered.

“Yes, you can,” you assured him, shifting Ren on your shoulder so you could talk to her and he could see both of your faces on the small screen. “Your daddy doesn’t know how to give up. He never gave up on me, even when I pushed him away, and he never gave up on us when everyone told him he was crazy. He is the bravest man I know and you, my darling, are so lucky to have a daddy like that.” 

Lando blinked rapidly as his eyes started to water and the visible relief shimmered on the surface of those tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Renleigh started to wriggle and grunt until you moved her to your other shoulder. The change in position must have been exactly what she needed as her body tensed and a horrific sound escaped her onesie. 

“Little lady!” Lando gasped before chuckling. “I’ll let you go deal with that, love.”

“Thanks,” you drawled as you rolled your eyes. “I’m keeping a tally of all the diaper changes you have missed so you can catch up when you get home.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed with a laugh as he wiped his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay on your own? If you need a break just to catch up on sleep Maria said she can be there in a few hours, mum too.”

“I’m alright at the minute, Lan,” you said with a little smile to Ren. “It won’t be long before we have to share her with the world, I’m savouring these moments.”

“Okay, but call me if you need anything. There’s more diapers in the garage and the groceries I ordered should be delivered this morning-”

“Lando, relax, I’ve got things locked down here,” you assured him one again as you heard the doubt creeping into his tone. “You focus on your job.”

The tv was playing quietly as you saved time and multitasked, folding the washing on the sofa while your foot gently moved the baby rocker where Renleigh slept. You just finished folding the latest load of baby clothes when the Formula One theme song began and you sat back to see what media day would bring.

A key turned in the front door before it swung open and Max waltzed in with his arms full of grocery bags, his eyes lighting up as he saw the new opening video start. “Hey Mama! Made it just in time,” he said with a grin as Lando came across the screen. “Oh, there’s our boy. Looking dapper, ol’ Bob.”

“Hey Max,” you greeted as he walked by to the kitchen. “When Lando said he had ordered groceries, I didn’t think he meant he ordered you to get them.”

“He probably didn’t want anyone seeing these get delivered,” Max said as he unpacked the bags and lifted up a pack of breast pads to frown at them. “What do these even do?”

“Catch the milk that leaks.”

His nose wrinkled and he dropped them back down. “That actually happens?”

“At the most inconvenient times too,” you muttered wistfully. No one told you that getting aroused could trigger a letdown, but you and Lando certainly found out the hard way before he left. Thankfully Lando was Lando and he found it hilarious, laughing it off to save you from utter embarrassment. 

“You’re really not selling this baby thing for me,” he stated as he tossed a tube of diaper cream over to you. 

“I’m sorry, what I meant to say was…those are just nipple pasties and my body hasn’t completely changed since I pushed an 8lb human out of my-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it.” He shivered at the thought and finished his unpacking before dropping down into ‘his’ chair and stealing the rocker away from you. “It’s not as glamorous as I imagined, but she’s pretty cute. Aren’t you, sweetheart? Wake up for Uncle Maxie.”

You chuckled softly as he unbuckled her and picked her up, but she slept as heavily as Lando and didn’t even stir. 

“Have you spoken to him?” you asked as a clip of Lando signing autographs for fans came across the screen.

Max’s lips turned down as he nodded. “He’s struggling.”

You sighed and turned the volume up as the interviews started to begin. “I don’t know how to help. If I say I’m fine without him it makes him feel like a spare part and if I say I’m not then he worries even more.”

“He just needs time to settle into the change, especially before the news breaks.” Max looked down at Ren and grinned. “You are going to break the internet, yes you are.”

“I’m surprised the secret hasn’t already come out in all honesty. Lando isn’t exactly good at keeping them.”

“This is different though, it’s for your guys' privacy. But it was funny to see you sneaking around under baggy hoodies, can’t do that now that the weather’s warming up and she’s on the outside.”

“I was incognito!”

He looked like he was going to argue before he pointed to the screen and you saw Lando in front of a Sky News reporter.

“Welcome back, Lando, how was your winter break?”

A bright smile lit up his face and it felt like it was just for you as he stared down the camera lens. “It was the best one yet.”

“Your social media updates were noticeably empty of your wife and we haven’t seen her yet around the paddock. Is she well? Is everything alright?”

“She’s good, really good.” His nervous mannerisms started to leak through as he scratched the back of his neck before fidgeting with his necklace. “She wishes she could be here. She has something more important happening at the moment to make any of the overseas races but they’ll come to Imola.”

“Whomp, there it is,” Max chuffed as you both heard the slip up.

“Maybe they missed it?”

The droll stare he gave you showed just how little he believed that. “Yeah and I’m a unicorn.”

“There was that one time,” you pointed out, reminding him of the time Lando and Mila had drawn on his face while he slept. “It was a dick on your forehead, not a horn, but it’s really the same thing.”

“They?” the reporter prompted, the microphone pushing even closer to Lando’s pink cheeks.

“I…uhh…”

You bit your lip as your husband grew more uncomfortable and you pulled your phone out, knowing he would answer no matter what.

“One sec,” Lando said as held up a finger and stepped back from the mic to answer. “Hi, love, everything okay?”

“Are you?”

His sigh was answer enough and you saw him comb a hand through his curls. “I think we need to change strategies. I fucked A up.”

“It was an accident,” you said softly. “That’s why there’s a plan B. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Now go on, you’ve been itching to post it for months.”

Lando was smiling as he ended the call and walked back to the reporter with his phone in hand. “So, they,” he stopped to giggle with excitement. “That would be in regards to this.”

Lando turned his phone to the screen just as he hit post on the Instagram picture, sharing your news with the world. Going on your honeymoon for two weeks had been sublime but what you had returned home with was even better.

“Congratulations! Any hint as to the due date?”

 “I think I’ve given you enough already, haven’t I?” he shot back, still riding the high of adrenaline after posting the picture. “But we would really appreciate some privacy, I can’t exaggerate it enough. If you see us on the street, I’m happy to sign autographs and take a picture with you but please respect my family and only take photos of me.”

“He’s jealous of sharing the attention,” Carlos called out behind him. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly it, you caught me.” Lando immediately covered his crotch as Carlos passed by and tried to hit him in the nuts. “Ah, no, stop that, I want another kid or two before you damage them.” 

“That’s news to me. My stitches have barely healed and he wants me to go through that again.” Max looked at you confused. “It’s called an episiotomy, look it up if you want nightmares.”

“No thanks.”

You were wearing the rug thin in the living room as you impatiently waited for Lando’s return. You had paced back and forth for an hour since seeing Lando’s plane land on the flight radar app. Ren was tucked snugly against your chest in a baby wrap and had quickly fallen asleep with the rocking movement but you started to unwrap her when you saw the pair of headlights coming up the drive.

Renleigh wasn’t too happy at being woken up but you softly cooed to her as she settled back down, “Daddy’s home, baby girl.”

It took a moment for him to see you as he came in from the garage, his suitcase trailing behind him. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he pulled his cap off as he walked through the doorway, combing a hand into the curls that had been flattened.

“Hi baby,” you greeted when he spotted you in the dimly lit living room despite the late hour. “You didn’t think we would miss your homecoming, did you?”

He crossed the room with a few long strides, his suitcase clattering to the floor as it was forgotten, and he enveloped you both in his arms. “I missed you,” he repeated over and over as he kissed your lips and then Renleigh’s forehead. His eyes fluttered shut and his face relaxed as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply like he had forgotten her baby scent. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too,” you said as you handed Ren over. “Someone is ready for bed, and I think her daddy is too.”

“Yeah? You want daddy to put you to bed?” he asked as he nuzzled her nose. “One more minute, I need my cuddles first.”

He took a seat on the couch and settled Renleigh on top of his chest as they both yawned. “I can’t wait until you are bigger, baby girl. It breaks my heart to be away from you and mama.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you sat beside him and draped your arm over his shoulders, combing your fingers through his hair. He hummed softly as you massaged his head and you felt his head growing heavier as his whispered conversation grew quieter. A soft snore finally escaped and his head rolled onto your shoulder as the exhaustion from his travels won and you kissed his forehead.

“It breaks my heart too.”

Click here for chapter thirteen.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Please read chapter 1 for warnings. Additional warning, especially for this chapter, is a fairly graphic depiction of a miscarriage. I discussed the topic of fertility issues and pregnancy loss in the warning passage i wrote in chapter 1, and i meant every word i said.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna

Chapter 7

[Prev] [Next]

For the first time in a very long time, Law had the day off of work while you didn’t.  When you woke up bright and early, however, your husband was sitting in the living space with Bepo at his feet, watching the morning news for your city.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he called, his lips quirking upwards in a fond smirk.

You felt a smile form on your own lips.  “Morning, my early bird,” you called back, approaching the couch and leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated.  “Why are you awake so early?  I thought you’d want to sleep in.”

Law chuckled.  “I thought about it, but I wanted to spend the day with Bepo, just the two of us.  Sometimes I’m afraid he’ll forget about me because I’m at work so often.”

You laughed.  “Aww, you miss your puppy!”  Bepo rolled over on the floor, exposing his belly which you gladly leaned down to give a firm few pats to.

“Well, I’m going to jump in the shower and get ready for work,” you stated, ruffling Bepo’s fur between his ears and standing back up to retreat to the bathroom.

You disrobed and turned on the water when a very dull cramping sensation developed in your lower abdomen.  You were only two days away from your next follow-up with Dr. Robin, and she did inform you that, in the case that your pregnancy was progressing normally, it is common to feel slight discomfort during certain hours of the day.  You hoped that was the case.  Hell, you prayed that was the case.

Your morning routine went by without incident, and you gave Law a kiss before leaving for your car and making the drive to your office.  You were slightly nervous, however.  You had told your closer coworkers and your boss that you were pregnant, but you had been reluctant to describe anything since the original announcement, and especially now after your ultrasound the week prior.  You loved your friends, but they were prone to gossip.  You had sworn them, very sternly in fact, that you did not, under any circumstances, want the entire office to know about your pregnancy.  You still didn’t quite know if they kept their word, but so far it seemed that they had.  But now, with constant uncertainty looming over your head like a thundercloud, you definitely doubled down on not wanting to tell anyone.

The dull, slightly throbbing pain in your lower abdomen continued on your drive.  You took a few sips from your water bottle to try to distract yourself.

Your shift started as they normally did.  You placed your lunch in the refrigerator in the break room, dropped your bag on your desk, and sat down in your chair to boot up your computer.

The cramping sensation increased from sitting.  You winced, attempting to adjust yourself in your seat to ease the feeling.

You said good morning to Nami, Ikkaku, and Usopp, and reviewed your project progress with your boss in time to sit in for an hour-long meeting with the clients you and your team were working with.  The meeting was long and arduous, and every time you felt the cramps flare up you took a sip from your water bottle.  At one point, Nami leaned over and whispered, “Parched, are we?”  You shared a quiet giggle.

The meeting ended, you ate your lunch, and left your desk to be watched over by Ikkaku while you used the bathroom.  With all the water you were drinking, it was no surprise that you had to go.  You pushed your phone into the pocket of your pants, a habit that had developed since getting pregnant eight weeks ago.  You wanted to be able to contact Law if anything changed even the slightest bit.

You left your office and entered the women’s restroom located between your agency and the one across the hall.  You sighed in relief as the restroom was empty.  You hated peeing with other people in the room with you.  You entered a stall, locked the door, and pulled down your pants.

You felt the blood drain from your face.

There was a substantial amount of bright red blood in your underwear.  It had seeped through the cotton and stained a very small patch in the crotch of your pants, not enough to be noticed from in between your legs, but enough that you were certain the stain would be permanent.  Your legs felt wobbly and you sat on the toilet.  Your cramps felt significantly worse when you sat, and suddenly the sensation of needing to urinate seemed to dissipate to make room for the painful squeezing in your abdomen.

There was no other possibility.

Your hands began to shake as you frantically reached for your phone in the pocket of your pants.  You opened your text with Law, thumb shaking as you tapped on his contact and pressed the Call button.

Please still be home… please still be home… please pick up…

[CLICK]

[Hey baby, what’s up–]

“Law, I’m having a miscarriage,” you blurted.  Your voice was already cracking as your entire body trembled.

The line was silent.

[You’re… I’m on my way.  I’ll be there as quickly as I can.]

You couldn’t even utter a response as your eyes swelled with salty tears that quickly fell from your cheeks and onto your bare thighs.  The cramps were growing more intense with each passing minute.

[Where are you right now?]

“Bathroom…” you meekly uttered.

[Okay, is your stuff at your desk?  Can I just ask the receptionist for your bag when I get there?]

You wished you didn’t have to speak.  Your entire body was struggling to cope with the heavy bleeding from your womb, the last thing you wanted to do was talk.  But you knew Law needed this information.  “Yes.”

[Okay, baby hang on, I’m getting in my car.  I’ll be there in 10 minutes.  Can you hold on that long?]

You couldn’t speak.  “Mhm.”

[Okay, okay.  I’m leaving now.  I promise I’ll get there as fast as I can.  I love you, I love you.]

The call was cut out as he hung up the phone to drive to your office.

You were alone once more.

The sight of your blood-soaked underwear was burning into your retinas.  The bright red liquid, fresh and new, as if you had simply scraped your knee.  This wasn’t similar to a period, exactly the opposite.  This blood was as fresh as it could be, fully oxygenated and supposed to be supplying life to the embryo that was supposed to be growing inside of you.

Supposed to be.  Everything was ‘supposed to be.’

You fought back a sob as your cramps persisted in waves.  Your body was most definitely passing something, but the last thing you wanted to do was think about what exactly that ‘something’ might be.

Your mind was reeling.

You felt dizzy.

Were you breathing?  Where was Law?

You placed a hand on the wall of the stall you occupied to settle yourself as your vision grew foggy as a wave of nausea washed over you.  Your ears barely picked up the sound of a trickle coming from you and into the toilet.  That definitely wasn’t urine.

The cramps continued, like a taunting knife digging into your flesh, ripping your dignity to pieces.

Where.  Was.  Law.

You tried to think of his face.  His gorgeous golden eyes that looked at you so tenderly, his pink lips that curled into a humble smile whenever he saw you, his fluffy hair you loved to play with.  You tried to think of Bepo at home, greeting you after your shift with his smile and his tail wagging so fervently it left a cloud of white fur floating through the air in its wake.  You tried to think of your bed at home, soft and warm, and how it smelled like Law.  You tried to think–

A strong cramp rippled through your womb.  You felt another wash of liquid leave your body before hearing a small plunk as something landed in the toilet bowl.

Your stomach churned.  You felt a cold sweat ripple up your spine and the back of your neck as your hair stood on end.  The cramps slightly improved after the unknown thing exited your body against your will, but the dull throb continued to radiate through you.

You wanted to vomit, but it seemed your body didn’t want to put you through more.  The only thing you were faced with was the nausea that rocked you so bad it made your vision fill with black spots.

Were you going to pass out?  Oh my god, you were going to pass out on the toilet.  You were going to pass out and hit your head and die–

“Baby?!”  The bathroom door was flung open.  The familiar voice of your savior flooded into the room.  “Honey, are you in here?!”

You couldn’t respond.  You simply pushed your foot outward under the stall door, enough for him to see the toe of your shoe.  You heard him pace towards you, knocking on the stall door with the back of his knuckles.

“Can you unlock it?”

You felt another wave of nausea followed by another intense cramp discharge through your lower body.  You whimpered.  “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Law felt his own stomach church.  Behind the thick plastic door in front of him, you were doubled over in complete anguish, miscarrying a dead fetus.  Law clenched his fist, livid at the world.

“I can’t help you if you don’t unlock the door,” he affirmed, his voice as gentle as it could be.  You could hear the wavering in his tone.  He was just as petrified as you are, minus the physical pain.

You reached forward with a trembling hand to slide the lock out of its slot.

Law pushed the stall door open.

His stomach dropped like a stone at the sight you were in.  He felt his hair stand on end at the sight of the bright red blood in your underwear, the way you were curled in on yourself as you shivered in agony in front of him.  

Come on, Law.  Your wife needs you.

With a deep breath, Law forced the fear into the back of his mind like he had done so many times over the past eight months.  He immediately jumped into action, pulling out a thick wad of toilet paper from the dispenser beside you and using it to line your underwear.  Not that it made a difference anymore, but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable when he brought you to his car.

“I need you to stand up, honey,” he urged.  His voice was soft yet laced with a fear unknown.

“I don’t want to…” you whispered.

Law swallowed his own glob of saliva in his throat.  “I know you don’t, but I need you to.  Keep your eyes on me, you don’t have to look down.  Just keep your eyes on me.”

Law had seen a plethora of traumatic instances in his lifetime, especially as a cardiac surgeon.  He’s seen people die on the operating table, their chests completely open and exposed in a dire attempt to fix an unfixable heart condition.  He’s seen people young and old hooked up to a multitude of tubes, breathing artificially and pumping blood mechanically.  He’s seen families cry over the news of their loved ones dying.  He’s seen mothers weep over their children.

But this… his wife, weeping over their child, was unlike anything Law had experienced before.  For once, he wasn’t the doctor providing the treatment or the bad news.  He was the husband on the front lines.  His stomach churned.  Could he even call it a child?

He carefully pulled you to your feet, constantly urging you to keep your eyes focused on the wall behind him as he pulled your pants up, making sure the large wad of toilet paper was secure in your underwear.  Your cramps were still running through you, and your tears were freely flowing down your cheeks like an unrestrained waterfall crashing through a broken dam.  You blindly followed as your husband pulled you out of the stall, grabbing your phone from the floor and shoving it in his pocket.  He felt his own wave of nausea as he peered into the toilet bowl.

Full of bright red blood, with three substantial broken-apart blood clots standing out among the blood-diluted water.  Combined together, the entire clot was easily the size of a lemon.  He was sure there’d be more.

He flushed the toilet.  You stood as still as a statue, the sound of the flushing causing you to choke out a sob.  You wanted to double over, fall to your knees and let the universe swallow you whole, but Law wrapped his arm around your shoulders, holding you up and grabbing your hand with his opposite arm.  Your bag from your desk was on the sink counter.  If you weren’t in such a state of distress, you would be relieved that you didn’t have to face your coworkers.  Law grabbed the bag and opened the door, hurrying you out into the hallway and into the elevator to bring you to the car as quickly as possible.

Thousands of irrelevant questions flooded into your mind.  What about your car?  What about calling out sick?  

“Breathe, baby, breathe for me,” Law whispered, the sounds of your strangled cries echoing through the enclosed elevator that seemed to move as slow as it possibly could to the ground floor.

You tried to follow his instructions, but your lungs were too focused on contracting as rapidly as the cramps in your womb.

You truly thought you were dying.

Law was practically moving for you as he brought you to his car, getting you safely into the passenger seat.  You stared blankly at your lap, your cramps now starting to feel numb to you as your mind went completely dark.

“I’m taking you to the ER,” Law stated flatly, turning the key in the ignition.  The car’s engine roared to life.

You didn’t respond.

Law kept his mouth sealed shut.  He backed out of the parking lot of your office and began to drive to his hospital.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Little Blobs, ch.3

Hi you guys! I bring to you a new chapter of Little Blobs, also avaliable on AO3! I hope you guys enjoy it! It's pretty long, so I strongly recommend you read it on AO3, but I wanted to post it here too for those who prefer it ♥

“...A stork plushie?” 

Tommy groans, sitting up in bed and blinking at Evan. His husband is lying down on his side, his hand draped over his belly as it’s become his habit in the last ten days. There’s the tiniest bump under his shirt; it’s barely noticeable, really, and they only know because they’ve been avidly looking for it ever since finding out about their blobs. But it’s there, and Tommy smiles as his hand joins Evan’s, even though he sighs exasperatedly at his husband’s idea. 

“Where exactly do you plan to find a stork plushie, Evan? And how exactly would that announce your pregnancy to your family?”

Evan shrugs, as he usually does when Tommy points flaws in ideas he thought infallible. 

“I don’t know, Amazon?” He says, and before Tommy can think of an answer, he’s already lighting up, sitting in bed with an excited smile. “C’mon, can’t you imagine it? We could put two little bundles in the beak and a plate saying ‘Special Delivery!’. It would be so cute!”

“You’re cute”, Tommy can’t help but say, placing a kiss on Evan’s cheek, and the way he blushes and smiles bashfully, even after eighteen months together, will never cease to make Tommy’s heart skip a beat. “But I don’t know, darling, sounds like a lot of work. And what if someone comes by and sees the plushie earlier? You know our friends have no boundaries, they just drop by whenever”

Evan hums thoughtfully, nodding and then dropping his head by Tommy’s shoulder, snuggling into his chest. Tommy cuddles him close, softly caressing his arm as the two of them try to think of another way to announce their babies that’s cute and not absurdly tacky. 

“How about we throw a barbecue?”, Tommy suggests after a while. “We have two weeks before we’re ready to tell, right? So we find a way to get everyone’s shifts aligned, throw a barbecue and just… tell them?”

“Hmmm, I like the idea of a barbecue”, Evan says delightedly, and Tommy snorts; in the last few days, his husband has been liking the idea of any food. 

His morning sickness is a lot more subdued, only showing up with some specific foods, and the rest of the time he’s been ravenous. And the worst part is that the cravings are starting to show up; just two days ago Evan asked Tommy to go to the market to get him coconut yogurt cause he desperately needed it. Once Tommy brought it, he had to watch Evan drop Cheetos into the yogurt and eat the concoction as if it came from a Michelin restaurant.Tommy's still not over it, and he's not sure he’ll finish this pregnancy with his sanity intact.

“So that’s what we’ll do” Tommy says, kissing his forehead. “We’ll get everyone together for a barbecue and tell them”

“Yeah, that works” Evan nods, a yawn escaping his lips, and Tommy chuckles; he hasn’t been as sleepy the last week, but is still stealing naps here and there, using Tommy as his personal pillow whenever he’s able (he tries to be able as much as possible; it’s his fatherly duty, after all). “Just us, our family, and food”

“Lots of food to feed my dragon and our baby dragons” Tommy teases, caressing Evan’s small bump, and he gets his hand batted away in retaliation. “We can convince Athena to bring that chicken salad you’ve been craving. Hen already knows, we could ask her to talk to her cake guy”, the mention of good food is enough to get Evan lighting up again, and he nods eagerly. 

“Sounds like a solid plan. I mean, what could go wrong, right?” He asks, lying down and closing his eyes as if he didn’t just drop the most famous last words in the universe.

Tommy raises an eyebrow; he’ll never understand why his husband likes to tempt fate like that.

“Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s your family; there’s always a way for things to get out of track when they’re involved” He quips, lying down too, his face turned to Evan’s. 

“Well, you’re not wrong”, he concedes. “But don’t forget they’re your family too, I refuse to take the sole blame for them” 

Tommy’s heart feels warm in the best way with these words. He’s been working on feeling like he belongs, feeling accepted as part of their found family as himself, not only as ‘Buck’s plus one’. He thinks he’s making progress, but it always helps to hear things like that. Tommy caresses Evan’s cheek, a small smile coming to his face, and then he presses a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Yeah, they are. Lucky me, right?”

As they drift off, after saying good night to their babies (“Sleep tight, little blobs,” Tommy whispers.

“Tommy, I swear—how many times… You’re really sticking with this, huh?” Evan grumbles, though his smile betrays him.’), Tommy’s smile never leaves his face. And for a moment, he’s willing to believe Evan: nothing can go wrong, right?

(They absolutely can)

-

Maddie is pretty sure something’s up with Buck. She’s known him since the day he was born, and she’s always able to tell when her brother’s mind is going a mile a minute. She remembers him being like that when he had his first crush in middle school, when he got kicked out of college, when he started dating Tommy. It's a nervous energy that he barely manages to contain, and it's like it buzzes from him. 

It's unusual, though, for Maddie not to know what it's about; Buck usually tells her everything. But she won't pry; as difficult as it is for Maddie to accept it, she knows Buck's an adult and has his own way of dealing with things. When he wants to tell her, he will.

“So, are you sure you're free for the barbecue next Saturday?” He asks her for what has to be the fourth time since he arrived at her place for brunch. Maddie is finding his anxiety amusing, if a little confusing.

“Yes, Buck, I'm sure” She says with a chuckle, and then frowns slightly at him. “You really want everyone to be there, huh? Is there a reason for it?”

Buck widens his eyes, his cheeks blushing, and that alone tells Maddie that yes, there's something he's not telling her about this barbecue. 

“No!” He denies way too quickly, deliberately not looking at her. “It's just… it's been a while since we got everyone together, that's all”

He's not wrong; it's one the disadvantages of having a family made up of first responders who work three different places. In fact, Maddie doesn’t really remember the last time they managed to get everyone together; she thinks she was still pregnant with Kevin, and her son is four months already. 

But Maddie knows this isn’t the whole truth behind Buck’s urgency, and it’s killing her that she’ll probably have to wait another ten days to find out.

“Alright”, she pretends to buy it for now, and that’s when her oven timer goes off. Maddie smiles excitedly, squeezing his arm. “Make yourself comfortable, I have a surprise in the kitchen for you”

Buck smiles at her, that sweet smile of his that almost looks surprised that she thought of him (and Maddie usually feels a twinge of guilt when she sees it), and sits down at her couch. Maddie rushes to the kitchen, taking the banana bread out of the oven. It’s an old recipe, one she mastered during her teenage years, her little brother being the unwitting tester for her experiments. 

It quickly became one of Buck’s favorites, a sort of comfort food, and that didn’t change as a grown-up. The first time she baked it for him in LA was back when his leg was crushed by the fire truck, and he still loved it. So, now Maddie bakes it for him whenever she can find the time, which is no easy task for a working mother of two, but her brother deserves it. She can already imagine the easy smile on his face as he eats it, fresh out of the oven. 

Except that’s not what happens at all. The moment Maddie brings it to the living room, held in a baking pan and still smoking, Buck’s smile becomes a frown, and he takes a deep breath, his hand covering his mouth. 

“Oh, God, is that banana?” He asks, and Maddie nods, trying to understand what’s wrong. 

“Yeah, it’s your favorite! Buck, what’s wrong?”

But he doesn’t answer her; before Maddie can even understand what’s going on, her brother is bolting to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. She quickly runs back to the kitchen, putting the bread back in the oven to hide the smell and grabbing a bottle of iced water from the fridge. 

Maddie’s heart is beating fast, and she’s beside herself with worry. Buck’s never gotten sick with her banana bread, never. Hell, she can’t remember ever seeing Buck sick at all, his immune system one of the strongest she’s ever seen. A thousand different possibilities cross her mind, one worse than the other, until her brother comes back from the bathroom, looking pale and like he’s half afraid Maddie will be mad at him. 

“Are you alright?” She asks, carefully approaching him and putting the water bottle in his hand. Buck gratefully takes a small sip, swallowing heavily. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I… Banana isn’t agreeing with th- with me right now” He says, voice impossibly small. Maddie notices how he almost wraps his hand around his belly, but drops it at the last second, looking at her with widened eyes.

And well, Maddie may not be a genius, but she sure as hell isn’t oblivious. She gasps when she realizes what’s going on, her hands covering her mouth in surprise. 

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Maddie squeals, and Buck looks just like a deer caught in headlights. 

“What?! N-no I’m not!” He asks, his voice three octaves higher than normal, and Maddie crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“Buck. You never learned how to lie to me, you know?” She says, and Buck sighs, admitting defeat. 

“Alright, I… I am. With twins.” He adds, and Maddie squeals again, even higher this time. wrapping her arms around his frame that towers over her. 

She’s ridiculously happy for her little brother. Maddie knows how much he yearned for a family, ever since he was a little boy, and she couldn’t be happier that he’s building one with a man like Tommy.

“Twins?! How far along are you? Are you feeling alright? Does Tommy know? Oh, wait, is that why you’re having the barbecue?!” She asks, talking a mile a minute and half leading Buck to sit on the couch. The idea of being an aunt (to two kids no less!) fills her heart with so much joy.

“Yeah, that’s why” He tells her, an impossibly giddy smile taking over his face as he rests his hand against his belly for real this time. “So you have to keep it a secret, alright? You can’t even tell Chim. I’m just eight weeks along, and we’re really afraid of something going wrong, so…”

“Hey”, Maddie says gently, squeezing his free hand, the one that’s not wrapped around his babies so protectively that her heart feels warm. He’s such a natural parent. “You can trust me, ok? I know I like gossip, but I can keep the important secrets”

Buck smiles at her; if he was a less kinder man, he could remind Maddie of the secret she kept for twenty-nine years, a secret that shaped so much of him without him even knowing it. But he doesn’t, and Maddie loves and admires him even more for it. She hugs him again, resting her head against his chest and her hand against his much larger one. 

“I know you can. In a way, I’m glad you know now. I’ve been dying to tell you for a month” He confesses, and Maddie chuckles, snuggling further against him. She can hear his heartbeat, the heartbeat of the boy she raised, and it’s steady and peaceful. 

“I am so happy for you, Evan” Maddie confesses, and they smile at each other, Buckley siblings against the world. 

Even if it means keeping a secret from her husband. After all, she knows Chim can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

Chimney hates secrets. Secrets are like a nuclear bomb and Chim’s like the fuse (do nuclear bombs have fuses? He’s not sure, but the metaphor counts anyway), and he doesn’t like being the fuse, thank you very much. He hates being told secrets, because he hates keeping them. He’d much rather be the last person that gets to know something than the first one. Which naturally means a secret simply drops itself into his lap when he’s least expecting it. 

It all starts when Tommy comes over for movie night; Maddie’s at work and Buck’s hanging out with Chris and Eddie, so it’s just the two of them, because Jee is having a sleepover at Albert’s and Kevin is already down for the night (how he and Maddie were blessed with a four-month-old that sleeps through the night, he’ll never know, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that). They’re free to watch movies packed with all the violence, action and dirty words that they could want. 

(They’re watching Ever After. It’s Drew Barrymore playing Cinderella, there’s nothing in the world that can beat that)

“Say, is Buck feeling better?” Chim asks as he joins Tommy in the living room, handing him a beer. “He was super nauseous at the station the other day, I was worried about him”

Tommy hesitates, taking a deliberately long time swallowing his beer, and then nods curtly.

“Yup. He's all better. Now, are we watching this or not?” He says, staring at the TV screen as if he hasn't watched this live about a thousand times (Chim just knows he has), and Chim frowns. 

Usually Tommy never misses an opportunity to talk about Buck, and although Chim has to admit he wasn’t looking forward to hear about his brother-in-law's recovery process, it's at least unusual. He takes a sip of his own beer, wondering how to ask Tommy if everything's alright between him and Buck when the doorbell rings with their pizza delivery, and then he's roped into their age-old game.

Both he and Tommy get up at the same time, staring intently at the door.

“Sit your ass down, Kinard, it's my house” Chim says, trying to hold Tommy down, but fat chance; he's strong, but Tommy's also strong and a lot bigger. He easily squirms out of Chim's grip, already grabbing his wallet from his pocket.

“That's exactly why I'm paying, you pulled this shit last time you came over” He says, and the bastard pushes Chim towards the couch.

His knees buckle and he falls on the couch; by the time he manages to get up, Tommy's already putting two bills in the hand of the delivery boy and telling him to keep the change. Chim sighs in defeat, looking down; he'll pay the next round. That's when he sees a small square paper on the floor, that probably fell from Tommy's waller. As he comes close to it, he sees the words ‘Little Blobs: week 8’ written on the back, with two little hearts adorning it.

Frowning, Chim flips the little square, not in a million years expecting what he sees when he turns it around. It's an ultrasound picture, and there are two embryos in it. At first, Chim chuckles as he looks at it.

“Why do you have an ultrasound in your wallet?” He asks, voice between curious and amused, but when he sees Tommy's panicked look, he takes a closer look at the picture.

And right there at the corner, Chim sees the words that make his jaw drop. 

“‘Babies Buckley-Kinard” He reads out loud, and then stares at Tommy, his mouth agape. “Holy shit, Tommy, Buck's pregnant?!”

Tommy groans, taking the picture from his hand and putting it back on his wallet. Chimney can't help but notice the tenderness with which he does that, even if he looks completely annoyed with himself.

“Damn it, I knew I should have left this in my locker”, he mutters, and Chim's thinking it's mostly to himself. “Yes, he's pregnant, but you can't tell anyone”

And there they were, the words Chimney hates more than any other in the world. He shakes his head, putting his hands on Tommy's shoulders.

“Ohhh no. No no no Tommy, you cannot do this to me” He pleads, but Tommy doesn't budge.

“I mean it, Howie! Evan really wants to keep it a secret until the barbecue, so you have to keep it a secret too!” Tommy says, and he might as well have given Chim a death sentence, because if Buck wants to keep it an absolute secret, it means…

“Are you telling me I can’t even tell Maddie?!” He asks, because apparently Chim hates himself enough that he needs to hear it out loud. Indeed, Tommy looks at him as if he’s being particularly slow (he’s not; he’s just in denial).

“Are you kidding me?! You especially can’t tell Maddie, do you know what Evan will do to both of us if she finds out by anyone other than him?!”

“Not to mention what Maddie will do to us if we spoil her baby brother’s surprise” Chim completes, and Tommy nods in agreement. He sighs in defeat. “Fine, I’ll keep it a secret. Serves us right for marrying the Buckley siblings, right?”

“I’ll drink to that”, Tommy says, taking a swig of the beer they’ve forgotten in the whole chaos. “Now c’mon, pizza’s getting cold and Drew Barrymore is waiting for us”

“Hey, wait a second, Kinard” Chim says, and before Tommy can sit back down, he’s wrapping his arms around his old friend’s frame, giving him a tight hug. “I’m happy for you, man”

“Thank you, Howie”, he answers, and there’s a smile on his face like Chim’s never seen before: happy, unguarded and filled with expectations. He wonders if he looks like that whenever someone talks about his kids, and hopes fervently that the answer is yes. “Part of me still can’t believe it, you know? That I’m gonna be a dad”

Chim chuckles and claps Tommy’s shoulder. He remembers feeling this exact way over four years ago, and once more four years ago. It was the best and most terrifying feeling in the world. 

“I know what you mean, my man. Part of you will only believe it when you see their little faces the day they are born” He tells Tommy as the two of them sit back down, and Chim opens one of the pizza boxes, and that’s when he realizes something. “Holy shit, Tommy! I’m gonna be an uncle!”

Tommy looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and okay, Chim will admit that this time he was kinda slow. But things had happened so fast, and never in a million years would he imagine himself being an uncle to Tommy Kinard’s kids. 

“Yeah, you are, Howie. I guess I should be congratulating you too, huh?” He says, nudging Chim’s shoulder, and they smile at each other. 

They’ve known each other for almost twenty years, and Buck and Tommy dating had brought them closer again, something Chim is very grateful for. He’s proud of how far Tommy’s come from the guarded man he met in the 118 station so long ago. Coming out and being with Buck has done wonders for him, and he can only imagine that these babies will do even more. 

“Thanks, Tommy.” He says sincerely. “Now, are we watching this movie or not?” Chim quips, knowing when Tommy is done talking about his feelings (it’s a time frame that’s expanding all the time, but he still doesn’t like to push it).

Tommy relaxes visibly when he realizes the tender moment is finished, and nods, shoving pizza into his mouth. They fall into a comfortable silence, watching the movie intently, and Chim tries not to panic when he realizes the enormity of the secret he’s gonna have to keep from his wife. 

He can do this, right? --

It’s a great day for a barbecue, Eddie thinks. The sun is shining brightly in the sky, but not too hot to make them go inside. Buck and Tommy are flawless hosts, making sure everyone’s drinks are filled and that there’s plenty of meat to go around (Bobby’s manning the grill, cause some things never change, no matter whose house they’re at). 

He sips at his beer, watching their fire family with a small smile on his face. It feels nice, having everyone together, and his happiness is in no small amount related to the fact that Chris is there. It’s been eight months since the two of them came back from El Paso, but sometimes Eddie still rides that euphoria. His son is talking to Denny and Mara, laughing openly; he’s wearing one of the polo shirts he’s been favoring as of late, and he’s had a haircut recently. He looks grown-up enough to make Eddie feel like an old man, but he couldn’t care less; he’s too proud. 

“Diaz!” Buck’s amused call brings Eddie back to the present, and he looks up to see his best friend with a smirk on his face. “Care for a refill?”

He’s offering Eddie a closed bottle of beer, and he takes it with a grateful smile, watching as Buck claps his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his best friend; there’s… something about Buck. He can’t quite place it, but he looks… Happy is not quite the word, but it’s the closest one Eddie can think of. He wonders if it’s just about getting everyone together; Buck is very much a gatherer, and being surrounded by his family is important to him. Eddie figures that might be it. 

“Thanks, Buckley” He answers, opening it with his hand and taking a sip. “Hey, what’s with you today? Every time I look at you, it’s like you can’t stop smiling”

Buck chuckles and rubs his neck, but the smile still doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it takes a more amused stance, and instead of answering Eddie, he turns around to catch Tommy’s hand (Eddie thinks it’s annoyingly adorable how they two never pass by each other in family gatherings without a small touch; it’s like they’re acknowledging that, even when talking to other people, they’re still each other’s priority). 

“Babe” Buck says, a hint of barely contained amusement in his voice. “Eddie is wondering why I can’t stop smiling today” “Ah, probably because your smile is beautiful, sweetheart” Tommy says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and Eddie, in the position of best friend, finds himself forced to roll his eyes at their sappiness. “Why, is there another reason you can think of?” 

He smirks as he asks that, and he and Buck exchange an infuriating conspiratorial glance, as if they know something Eddie doesn’t (which, to be fair, is usually true, but they’re usually not that smug about it). 

“Eddie” Buck asks, out of nowhere, the knowing smirk never leaving his face.”Would you mind going inside and checking the oven for me? Bring us what you found there?”

“Oh, have you baked dessert?” He asks excitedly. The last time he had a Baked Alaska  was during the Six-Month Crisis We Don’t Talk About, and as happy as he is that those two idiots got their heads out of their asses very quickly, he still misses Buck’s more elaborate baking.

“Why don’t you go and check?” Buck asks, crossing his arms, and Eddie decides the only way to wipe that smirk off his face is to do as he asks. 

As he goes inside, he faintly hears Buck calling everyone’s attention, and his hopes get even higher. If he wants everyone to see it, it’s probably a really good dessert. Eddie wonders if he finally managed that spumoni recipe he’d been trying a few months ago (it was a hard recipe, and he and Chris were the unwitting test subjects of many failed attempts; Eddie spent weeks unable to even look at a pistacchio). 

He’s extremely surprised, and undeniably confused, when all he finds inside the oven are two small buns. Eddie takes them in his hand, turning them over, wondering if there’s anything else, but no such luck. He frowns; is Buck pulling a prank on him? If he is, Eddie doesn’t get it. 

“Buck”, he says, going outside holding the two buns in his hands. “Why are there only two buns in your oven?”

“‘Only’ two? I'd say two is more than enough’” Tommy mutters beside Buck, and that makes even less sense to Eddie. 

As he looks up, Buck is looking at him expectantly and, he notices, so is everyone else. Athena particularly is looking at him as if he's being purposefully dense.

“What am I not getting here?!” Eddie exclaims, trying to understand what's going on.

What he doesn't expect is to get the answer from his son, of all people.

“Oh my God, Dad, really?! It’s super obvious!” Chris says, his voice between embarrassed and exasperated. “Buck is pregnant! With twins!”

“WHAT?!” Eddie screams, unable to stop himself, because what Chris is saying makes absolute sense. Buck’s been having nausea issues for weeks; he and Tommy had made sure everyone was there for this barbecue. Buck hadn’t just been happy, Eddie realizes; he’s been glowing.

Eddie drops the buns, in complete shock, and only then he notices he’s the only one who’s reacting that way. He crosses his arms, completely exasperated. 

“Why am I the one surprised about this?!” He asks in despair, and Buck and Tommy look at him and then at the rest of their fire family, who are all gathered behind them (except for Jee and Kevin who are taking their naps). 

“Yeah” Buck says slowly, crossing his arms. “Why is Eddie the only one surprised about this?”

All of their family, except for Bobby, Athena and Hen, look at the two of them with widened eyes, before everyone starts to exclaim at the same time. 

“Oh my God!”

“I am so shocked!”

“I would never have seen it coming!” “Pregnant?! I never would have guessed!”

“Wow, Buck’s pregnant, that’s such a surprise!”

Well. Thank goodness none of them are actors, because they wouldn’t manage to convince anyone. Buck himself doesn’t look impressed at all, and Tommy has that deadpan look of his that Eddie is used to by now.

“...You guys knew already, didn’t you?” He asks with a sigh, and everyone nods sheepishly. When they do, though, Maddie and Chim look at each other with widened eyes and a gasp. 

“You knew?!” He asks, and she nods. 

“And you knew?!” Maddie exclaims back. 

“Tommy made me promise not to tell you!” Chim says, pointing an accusatory finger at Tommy, and Maddie throws her hands in the air. 

“Buck made me promise not to tell you!” Maddie clarifies, and Eddie finds himself laughing at their antics. 

“Oh my God, are you telling me I’ve been keeping a secret from my wife for a week when she already knew?!” Chim groans, and everyone laughs, knowing how hard this must have been for their paramedic. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t do it” Bobby shrugs, looking completely unapologetic as he casually flips the burgers still on the grill. “Sorry, boys, but I told Athena the day you told me”

“Bobby, c’mon!” Buck says exasperatedly, but Eddie knows his best friend, and he can see he’s really not mad. “You said you could keep the secret!”

“Oh, don’t blame him” Athena defends her husband, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He got home so excited about being a grandpa, he just had to tell me”

Eddie has to give it to her, she knows exactly what to say. Buck instantly melts at her words, looking at Bobby with a besotted smile as he runs a hand on his belly (and wow. his best friend has two babies inside him. Eddie still can’t believe that)

“Alright, so that accounts for Maddie, Chim and Athena”, Tommy says, and then turns to Hen. “Hen, I’m guessing you told Karen?”

“Actually, I didn’t” Hen says, as if only now realizing that, and turned to her wife. “How did you know, babe?”

Karen points a finger to her kids. “Denny and Mara told me!”, and now the two of them are the center of attention. 

“Chris told us in the group chat” Mara says casually before taking a bite of her burger, and Denny nods, taking a sip of his soda can. 

“Yeah. May and Harry couldn’t be here, but they sent congratulations” He completes, and Eddie’s starting to get the feeling he really missed something, because…

“How did you know, Chris?!” Buck asks, turning to his kid, and so do Eddie and Tommy (and the rest of them, who are still following the conversation like it’s a particularly lively tennis match). “I didn’t tell you! Believe me, I really wanted to, but I didn’t!”

“...Common sense?!” Chris deadpans with a shrug, looking between the three of them. “Tommy has been ridiculously protective over you lately, Buck. You found excuses not to drink beer every time you hung out at our place lately, and I saw you checking baby clothes on your cellphone the other day. It wasn’t that hard to put together. Except for you, Dad, apparently” He smirks at Eddie, the little shit he is, and Eddie can’t help but blush, trying to resist the urge to tell his kid to shut up.

Thankfully for Eddie, everyone decides congratulating Buck and Tommy is more important than making fun of him for being the last to know. There’s a flutter of people hugging them, making good wishes and asking how Buck’s been feeling,  then going back to the barbecue, the mood happy and celebratory now as Hen brings out a cake shaped like a stork with two bundles hanging from its beak. 

When it’s Eddie’s turn to congratulate them, he wraps his arms around Buck, giving him a tight hug that tries to convey all the happiness he is feeling for him. 

“Congratulations, mate, I know you’ll be wonderful dads” He says to him and Tommy, who smiles gratefully, and then Eddie points an accusing finger at Buck. “You told me you weren’t drinking beer because of keto, you lying shit”

“It’s not my fault you believed this bullshit excuse” Buck smirks, shoving his shoulder playfully. “When have you ever seen me refuse beer because of a diet?”

Eddie looks down sheepishly, and then back at Buck and Tommy, who are smirking at him infuriatingly. He just knows he won’t ever live this down. 

“Am I really the last one to know?” He asks, because, really, that can’t be true, can it?

“Well, not really, Eddie” Surprisingly, Maddie is the one to answer him. She’s coming towards them with Jee-Yun in her arms, but the girl starts to squirm to get out of her grip as soon as she spots her uncle. “There’s someone who was sleeping during the whole commotion, but wants to talk to her uncles now”

Maddie puts Jee down, and she rushes towards Buck, placing her tiny hands in his belly, looking up at him in wonder. 

“Uncle Buck! Mommy says there’s a baby in your tummy! Like Kevin was in her tummy?! Is that true?!” She asks, a huge smile taking over her sweet face, and Buck kneels down by her side, her smile mirrored in his own. 

“There are actually two babies in my tummy, Jee-bug! Isn’t that cool?!” He asks, and Eddie can see tears starting to glisten in his eyes. 

“That’s right, princess, you’re going to be a big cousin!” Tommy says, kneeling by Jee’s other side, and Eddie’s heart warms at the sight. 

Jee-Yun squeals in happiness, talking a mile a minute, and Buck and Tommy look more than happy to answer any questions she has. And she has a ton of questions (‘how do you know it’s two babies?! are they sharing your belly like me and Mara shared a room?! when can I play with them?!’). 

“Congratulations, Dad” Chris’ dry remark takes Eddie’s attention away from the cute scene in front of him, and he turns to his son to see him with an eyebrow raised, his expression a mirror of Eddie’s own sarcastic one, which. Wow. Hurts to be on the other side of it. “You’re officially ahead of the four-year-old who was sleeping at the time.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m sending you back to Texas”

He won’t. And Chris knows he won’t, but he laughs anyway, because it feels good to laugh now that it’s over. 

They enjoy the rest of the barbecue, and of course Buck and Tommy’s babies are the main topic of conversation from now on. It’s clear the two of them are ridiculously happy, and now that it’s public knowledge, Eddie notices Buck can barely keep his hands from his belly.

Eddie smiles, watching from afar as Tommy does the same, gently rubbing his thumb over the place where their babies are. They’re the perfect picture of a happy family, and Eddie is ridiculously happy for them. Knowing everything they went through as kids, he knows they deserve it. 

And these kids can consider themselves lucky; not only they have the greatest parents in the world, he’ll have the coolest uncle to spoil them. Even if he took too long to find out they existed.

--

Tag list:

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul 

@asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week. 

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change.  Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work. 

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it. 

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in. 

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered. 

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer. 

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before. 

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you. 

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line. 

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss. 

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life. 

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms. 

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case. 

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone. 

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour. 

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped. 

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess. 

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you. 

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights. 

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form. 

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet. 

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal. 

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan. 

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you. 

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office. 

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious. 

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat. 

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered. 

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale. 

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home. 

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance. 

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired. 

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount. 

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’. 

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me. 

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had. 

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet. 

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark. 

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight. 

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline. 

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you? 

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone. 

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.” 

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you. 

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time. 

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!” 

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.” 

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it. 

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.” 

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister. 

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.” 

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.” 

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?” 

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.” 

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera. 

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name. 

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass. 

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands. 

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you. 

“You were my boss.” 

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?” 

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat. 

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground. 

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.” 

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.” 

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet. 

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command. 

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin. 

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon. 

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath. 

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot. 

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation. 

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage. 

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.” 

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?” 

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.” 

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry” 

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.” 

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time. 

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone. 

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape. 

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“ 

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“ 

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece. 

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath.  “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.” 

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness. 

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you. 

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not watching my sick goddaughter and then not wanting to watch her sick brother

*fake names used obviously

Two days ago I got a message from my goddaughter's mom, Nancy, saying that my goddaughter, Natasha, had thrown up at school. The reason Nancy let me know was because her husband would be picking up Natasha's little brother, Dennis, who I watch from 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM most days.

Anyway, I have an extreme, irrational fear of throwing up. So after Nancy let me know Natasha was sick, I was afraid Nancy would then ask if Natasha could come over to my house the next day along with Dennis. Nancy works the night shift so she sleeps during the day and her husband works from 8 AM to 4 PM. I've watched both kids since they were infants. I love them as if they were my own, but when they're sick with a stomach bug, or just throwing up for whatever reason, I would prefer they stayed home away from me so that I can avoid getting what they have lol.

I've always felt bad about this, because they're little and I feel like at my grown age I should be okay with being around them if they've thrown up. Yet, I find myself internally freaking out about getting sick AND I get so paranoid I swear I make myself sick sometimes. Nancy knows this about me.

Sure enough, Nancy calls me and nonchalantly asks if Natasha can come over the next day with Dennis because the school told her Natasha couldn't return for 24 hours. Usually I would give in and say yes because I feel bad saying no, but recently my brother's have reminded me that Nancy only pays me 200 dollars every two weeks to watch Dennis four days a week, eight hours a day. Nancy has acknowledged that she'd have to pay way more at a daycare, so she appreciates what I, and my family do for them.

I love the kids, I really do, but despite having known their parents for so long it feels as though Nancy and her husband only really see me and my family as the help and almost expect us to always be available. Or maybe I'm just projecting my insecurities onto them about not feeling appreciated enough? Which I know is bad, but it's instances like this that have bothered me in the past. You wouldn't take the children to a daycare if they've thrown up right? Or if they're sick with something like covid (which they gave us like two years ago), or if they have a fever, but they've brought them over anyway. It feels mean, you know? Like I love the kids, but I don't want to get sick. Maybe I'm just a horrible, paranoid, awful person and I do think that sometimes. Ha ha, is this an instance in which it would be ok to set a boundary🤔😭

On top of that, I don't charge Nancy extra (nor does she offer to pay) when she asks me to watch the kids on the weekends for a few hours or when she's got time off of work and wants to bring them over. I know this is my fault, because I do not charge her, but again I feel bad asking for more money. My biggest fear for a long time was that she would stop bringing the kids over if I did ask for a little raise or asked her not to bring them over if they were sick, but was always reminded by my brothers that Nancy didn't want to pay for daycare. Still I felt too ashamed to ask for more babysitting money or for Nancy or her husband to keep the kids home sick, and again I feared she would find someone else to watch the children.

Anyway, I told Nancy no. I was very apologetic and reminded her that I get really paranoid when someone is sick throwing up. I told her I just didn't want to get sick because then I'd be out for one to two days. Which would mean I wouldn't be able to watch Dennis and she or her husband would have to miss out on a day of work. Nancy sounded let down, maybe annoyed? I'm not sure, I can't remember. I am kind of spiraling about it  as I'm typing this out now. I feel really bad that I said no, especially because Nancy called me from her car so Natasha heard me say no. Luckily, Natasha was happy that she would get to go spend time with her mom at work. Nancy works in an office as the manager of a warehouse, so it's not like Natasha had to wait in some break room or alone somewhere.

Then tonight I get a message from Nancy saying Dennis threw up, and the panic set in all over again. I feel bad telling her to keep him, even though she eventually offered to keep him home after my many questions: what time did it happen; did he only puke once; does he have a fever; how is he feeling now? I'm sure she's annoyed that I might say "Yes, please keep him." Because that would mean she would either have to stay awake with him and not sleep before work tomorrow night, or that her husband would have to stay home. I think I'm going to tell her to keep him. I feel bad, but I guess not bad enough, huh? I'm trying to justify it to myself, I know, but that's why I'm here. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[neoyongz]

good night, baby 🌙 | alex turner x reader (smut)

Alex found the perfect chance to make your fantasy come true.

warnings: somnophilia, alex!dom, breeding kink, the whole fic is kinda centered around him, wet dream, Al likes being called sir (blink and you won’t notice it lol), mention of shower sex

word count: 2.1k

disclaimer: english is not my first language so, in advantage, i apologize for grammar mistakes 🤭

requested by: anon

It was past midnight. You found yourself sleeping after a very long day of working, and your husband prepared a romantic dinner at home with red candles and roses. You didn’t ask for it, but he knew how tired you were after a whole week of working 2 shifts a day and he wanted to cheer you up by preparing your favorite dish.

Quickly after eating, you took a relaxing shower and went straight to bed, and even if he wasn't going to sleep at that time, Alex layed down with you. He hugged you and let you sleep hiding your face in his chest, just as you liked. You fell asleep almost immediately as he kissed your forehead and caressed your hair softly, his hands were warm and his caresses made you feel comfortable.

It was something common for you to sleep hugging him, that position always made you feel better after an exhausting or bad day, and he also loved sleeping like that.

Anyway, a few hours passed and Turner still wasn’t able to fall asleep, hugging you and sighing at his boredom. He looked at the clock: 3 in the morning. Suddenly, a thought came across his mind:

“Al, can I ask you something?” You smiled and sat beside him.

“Sure, pumpkin. Tell me” He took a hairbrush and started brushing your wet hair.

“I’ve had this dream the other day about you… fucking me while I was sleeping” You whispered, feeling your cheeks blushing. “And I want you to do it if it doesn’t bother you”

He continued brushing your hair and kissed your shoulder. “Of course, cutie”

“I give you consent to do it whenever you want to, unless i’m feeling bad or something like that” You turned around and looked at him. “But yeah, I thought it would be something cute to do”

He had that conversation with you about 2 days ago after you had a quick session of shower sex and he thought maybe he could turn your fantasy into reality tonight.

To do it, he started by lowering his hands south into your shorts, slowly touching your buttcheeks. After a few seconds, his left hand went to your front, almost touching your pussy, but he went up again and caressed your tummy all the way up to your tits. He knew you always slept without a bra because it was uncomfortable, so this time the table flipped to his favor: He sneaked his hand into your shirt and started massaging your breasts, playing with your nipples to get them hard.

Once he did, he lifted up your shirt and stared at your perfect pointy tits getting lightened by the moonlight and a few candles he lit before you fell asleep. He started feeling an erection forming under his pants, he approached your tits and gave them a few kisses being careful to not wake you up. He licked and sucked your nipples to see how far he could go before you noticed what he was doing, but luckily you fell into a deep sleep that night.

He got back to your shorts to take them off, leaving you almost naked. His hand went into your panties to masturbate you for a few seconds to get you wet enough, and once he accomplished that, he spreaded your fluids all over your entrance to use them as lube. Holding your panties with his other hand, he licked two of his fingers and then got them down again, teased your entrance with a few touches in circles and stroked your clit carefully as he left some kisses on your neck. He wanted to wait a bit to get you fully wet before he went into action to not hurt you.

Alex continued masturbating you while kissing your neck and chest trying to get you used to all the stimulation while sleeping. His free hand went to your waist, holding it firm to get you closer, rubbing his boner to your privates.

“This is how you get me” Alex whispered. “This is what happens when I think of you, my love” He licked your bottom lip and slowly introduced two fingers into you.

He almost prayed that it didn’t wake you up, but luckily, your only reaction was whimpering and trying to move, but he tightened his grip to bury his fingers even deeper making you moan. It was all going well for him, until he heard you gasping “Damn, Alex”. Were you awake? Nah, it couldn’t be like that.

Just to be sure, he got a third finger inside and you didn’t make any sound other than a very airy moan. You smiled through your dreams and kept sleeping while he fingered you, thinking it was all just a dream.

Alex started moving his fingers slowly to stretch your walls, rubbing his erection to your tummy feeling how it was already leaking some pre-cum. With his free hand, he got rid of his pants and underwear, now feeling a lot more comfortable to do whatever he wanted. Still moving his fingers inside you, he got closer and started moving his pelvis up and down to jerk off against you while giving a few kisses on your neck.

Even if he tried to take it easy to let you sleep, he totally forgot about this because of the pleasure numbing his mind. His cheeks were red, his forehead was covered in sweat and his eyes were closed to let his imagination fly, visualizing your hand wrapped around his cock. His fingers curled inside you trying to touch your g-spot and rubbed your clit with his palm until he realized how much stimulation he was putting on you and slowly got his fingers out, he removed your panties and you tried to move as he felt a cold breeze on your legs.

Alex approached the nightstand and opened one of the cabinets, took a condom and opened it. Once he got it on, he aligned his length to your entrance and pressed it against you to get in. Almost instantly, he felt a rush of pleasure and relief all over his body as his cock got buried into your warm and tight inside. He took some time to get fully into you just to feel that sense of relief for a few more seconds, and once he finished getting in, he stayed there so your body could get used to it and that’s when you whimpered again.

He carefully got on top of you and when he felt like he couldn’t wait more, he started thrusting slowly while groaning. He felt at heaven, even if he missed your kisses, but knowing he could do whatever he wanted to you because he was the only one in control made him feel kind of powerful. Obviously he wouldn’t do anything he knew you wouldn’t like.

He kept thrusting as he sucked your tits again, smiling at how hard your nipples were. You moaned, still dreaming about him fucking you, half awake and half asleep. Even when dreaming you kind of knew you were actually getting fucked and that it wasn’t just a wet dream, but it was like your mind didn’t want to escape from your dreams.

“Uhm, Alex” You moaned trying to open your eyes, but Alex quickly covered them with his hand.

“Shh, go back to sleep pup” He whispered and kissed your cheek. Lucky him, because your body obeyed and let you have some more minutes of sleep.

His hand left your face and got to the bed so he could support his weight better, now thrusting a bit faster. He sighed and closed his eyes as your pussy contracted because of the stimulation, making him groan and get his hand to your clit to masturbate it. His head was full of pleasure, his back was slightly arched and his lips were getting puffier because of him biting them trying to make as less noises as possible.

He buried his head in the bed next to your neck, which he kissed and bit carefully leaving a few marks. Those bits were the ones that woke you up fully.

“Al- Fuck” You whispered and opened your eyes, feeling helpless at waking up at so much pleasure. “Did you-“ He shut your lips with a kiss, a needy and desperate kiss. He played with your tongue, curling it and making it explore your whole buccal cavity. He bit your bottom lip and separated a few centimeters, but still touched your lips with his.

“Shh, stay quiet and let me fuck you good” He whispered while thrusting harder, groaning in ecstasy. “Relax, babe”

You closed your eyes again now moaning out loud as he thrusted into your g-spot, making you tear up and try to reach his neck to hug it but failing because of your mind being blurred by all that pleasure right after waking up, it was almost too much, but you for sure enjoyed it.

“Are- are you using a condom?” You asked in the middle of your moaning mess.

“Yeah, why?” Alex looked at you and smiled, he loved looking at you while fucking.

“Take it off” You buried your nails on his back as he pushed your spot again. “And- cum inside”

Well, that took Alex by surprise. Of course he always wanted to do it but he was too shy to ask and as this was already making one of your fantasies come true now, maybe doing something else would be too much for you, but he still liked the idea.

“Are you sure, pumpkin?” As he felt close, he slowed down his thrusts and kissed your neck. You whispered a very soft “Yes” to his ear, and after your confirmation, he started thrusting hard again.

Your moans echoed in the room as well as his groans and the sound of both bodies crashing into each other, the whole room felt warm and Alex was at the edge of his orgasm. He grabbed your neck to choke you carefully, your eyes teared up again and you grabbed his arm.

“Alex, fu-“ Alex quickly took your hand out of your neck and put it on your mouth and groaned before giving his last few thrusts.

“Let me fill you up, baby” He sighed and took his cock off of you, leaving you feeling empty. He quickly took away the condom and went inside again, stealing a scream from your lips before doing some more thrusts until he finally reached his orgasm and cummed inside you as he thrusted hard into your spot.

You moaned and arched your back, burying your nails once again into his skin and leaving some red marks.

“Shit, Alex” You whispered and sighed, you were exhausted.

He didn’t speak a word, he just came out of you and looked at his cum dripping out of your cunt.

“You looked so cute sleeping” Alex smiled and kissed your thighs. “Lemme clean you up”. He got his underwear on again and got up to take some tissues, came back to the bed and cleaned your legs carefully.

“Did I? Well… I was dreaming of you” You laughed and opened your legs for him, putting your hands on your inner thighs.

“Yeah, I noticed” He smiled and tossed the tissues. “Don’t do tha’, you’ll get me horneh again.” He joked and you didn’t obey. Instead, you passed your hands around your thighs and went down to your pussy, taking a bit of his cum to taste it. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing” You smiled promiscuously. “Just tasting you”

“You naughty little fuck” He smiled and kissed you, sucking your bottom lip and biting it slowly.

“I didn’t get to be conscious for the whole first part” You pouted and took his hand to your tits. “Also, I wanna make you feel good too. Please, Al” You hugged his neck and moaned into his ear. “Please, sir”

You took your hand to his tummy, going down all the way to his underwear, playing with the elastic and teasing him, being fully conscious that it was a good strategy to drive him crazy with little teases to get what you wanted.

“One more?” He asked and grabbed your breast, playing with your nipple. You whimpered his name.

“Mhm, please, Alex” Just hearing you begging already got him horny again, and even before noticing, he was kissing you passionately.

Both tongues started colliding again, your lips getting red and puffy, and with no rest in between, you both were getting ready for a very long night incoming.

[ . . . ]

hi everyone !! new fic dropped hehe 🤭 btw i got the breeding kink idea from @mywritingonlyfans so credits to her for that part :3 hope u enjoyed !! feel free to ask me anything in my questions box :p love y’all !!

[tieronecrush]

Hello! Love your work! Can I get a Javier Pena story where this song is the inspo: https://m.soundcloud.com/user-265940464-259651895/i-miss-u ? Basically Y/N is upset because she thinks Javi is cheating on her because he’s being distant but he’s actually just really stressed out? Can there be lots of fluff :) thank you btw!

thank you so much for your lovely compliment and for sending in this request!!! javi p is my husband so i loveeee love love writing for him!! hope this lives up to what you imagined!!!

cold hands

javier peña x f!reader

rating: M

word count: 2.3k

summary: your boyfriend javi has been distant for the past few weeks; canceling dates, staying late at work, leaving early in the morning, and….lacking intimacy. you can't help but wonder if something is going on, or someone.

warnings: insecurity, distant relationship, thoughts about infidelity, past infidelity, established relationship, pet names, it's javi so he's obviously going to allude to sexy times, very poor highschool level spanish please educate me

“Hey, baby! You leaving the embassy now?” You ran across your kitchen to pick up the landline on the second ring, abandoning the dinner cooking on the stove in hopes that it was your boyfriend. When his deep voice on the other end confirmed it, a smile crossed your face and was evident in the excitement in your tone.

A slow sigh comes from the other end, your heart immediately sinking in your chest. You knew what was about to come next. It wasn’t the first time this has happened in the past few weeks. It wasn’t even the first time it has happened this week.

“I’m sorry, cielto. I can’t make it tonight, Messina has Murphy and me pursuing a lead that has to happen tonight…”

These phone calls with Javi have become routine at this point. Always when he’s supposed to come and spend the night or is supposed to pick you up to come to his place; he’s canceled dates and has been leaving early in the mornings to go to work when you two do get to spend the night with each other.

Always something along the lines of “Messina ordered us”, “This has to happen tonight”, or “They need us to go to Medellín”. There was one time two weeks ago when all three of those reasons were used in the same sentence.

“It’s alright, Javi. See you tomorrow night, maybe?”

“I will come by right after I get off work tomorrow to pick you up and bring you over to my place. Lo prometo, mi amor. Estaré ahí para ti. (I promise, my love. I will be there for you).”

That is when you can’t take it anymore. The promise breaks your heart because you know he can’t keep it, that he probably won’t keep it. Tears fall down your cheeks as you bite your lip to stay quiet, all of your hard work ruined when you sniffle without thinking about it.

Javi’s heard the noise and knows that you must be crying, the image of you alone and upset breaking his heart. He shifts to turn to lean against his desk, prepared to stand there and comfort you until you feel better.

Except, the next second, Murphy is standing right next to him with an impatient look on his face. He’s tapping his foot and rushing him along with his hands, gesturing to his watch and then to the door.

Javi’s chest constricts as he listens to your soft sniffles crack over the line, another sigh falling from his lips.

That second sigh sounds much more frustrated. He must be annoyed that you’re this upset over him canceling, probably wondering why you can’t understand that this is his job. He can’t just say no and head out for the night, it’s not a regular nine-to-five.

As you open your mouth to apologize to him and deescalate any annoyance from him, his voice muffles in a whisper over the phone.

“I’m sorry, cielto. I gotta go. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Okay —” is all you can get out before the line cuts dead and the dial tone sounds. You hang the phone on the wall again, freely letting out your cries now that you’re alone again.

It wasn’t always like this. Javi has been an attentive partner since you met him; at first, the two of you casually hooked up, a boot call here or there. But eventually, you or he would stay the night which evolved into making breakfast together before work, and then became the two of you spending nights together simply hanging out with nothing else happening. Finally, after a few months of that, Javi insisted and asked, multiple times, to take you on a “real date, with dinner and drinks or the movies or whatever” (his words). You’d quickly agreed after his ramble, and since that night he asked you for a date, the two of you have been together for just under a year. It’d be closer to a year and a half if you count those months spent hooking up before.

If you had been asked two months ago if the two of you were happy, you would say yes without hesitation. These days, you weren’t so sure that Javi was entirely in it anymore.

He’s been distant, the phone calls and cancellations are major evidence that something is going on. But even when the two of you are together, he falls asleep without so much as a kiss for you, sits on the other end of the couch staring into space while you watch TV, has even jumped away from you touching his shoulder when you stood next to him in your kitchen.

The behavior is all too familiar. You can’t help but connect the dots as you did with your ex — the one you were with for a few years before Javi. He had cheated on you. Avoided you for months by canceling last minute or coming up with excuses about work or family stuff. Didn’t have sex with you, kiss you, or even hold your hand when you were together. 

Javi has given you absolutely no reason for you not to trust him. Sure, you’d heard all about his previous reputation from Steve and even from Javi himself, but as far as you know, ever since the two of you had been hooking up, he hasn’t been with anyone else. A devoted, doting boyfriend. Until he became distant.

Insecurity started to fester in the space he created between the two of you. Your past influences your brain to start mulling over if this distance is to make a break up with you easier, or if maybe he’s found someone else, maybe he’s already with that someone else.

The thought seems ludicrous to part of you, but that tiny sliver of doubt is the loudest tonight.

You haven’t talked to him about how these past few weeks have been strange and cold. The thought of saying something, of confronting him, and making it all worse terrifies you. If he isn’t doing anything wrong, if he’s just going through something, you definitely don’t want to give him a reason to break up with you or to think that you don’t trust him. 

The way that he whispered to you over the phone before hanging up sticks out in your mind, and it jumps to the conclusion that he must be around someone that he has to keep a secret from, to keep you a secret from.

It’s irrational, but in your current state, you can’t bring yourself out.

Instead, dinner is chucked in the trash, and the rest of your night is spent cycling between sad, broken tears, angry stewing, and insecure spiraling. Eventually, you exhaust yourself with the constant changes of emotions, falling asleep alone.

You eventually fall asleep and wake up to a hand gently shaking your shoulder. Javi stands over you next to your bed dressed in his short-sleeve button-up and jeans that you saw him get dressed in the previous morning.

“Morning, cielito.”

Half awake, the sight of him coming home in yesterday’s clothes makes tears well in your eyes, and his hand suddenly feels cold against your skin. The only reason you think of him standing there in a day-old outfit is that he must have spent the night with someone else.

His brow furrows with concern as he sees your faint tears falling, his hand moving up to pet your hair, the motion nearly comforting you to the point where you want to forget everything that’s happened and take what he’ll give you, even if there might be someone else.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so sad, cariño? Did something happen last night?”

You sniffle and shake your head, swiping your tears away and sitting up in bed quickly.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Must’ve been a bad dream.”

Javi sits next to you on the edge of the bed, hand moving to your thigh and circling his thumb on it through the faded quilt covering you.

“Cielito, please tell me. We both know that you don’t sleep as peacefully as you were when you have a nightmare. I want to help you, please tell me.”

You pull the covers further over you, covering your mouth and muffling out, “I don’t wanna…Just gonna make things worse…”

Javi looks at you with a faint smile and a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“As adorable as you look, mi amor, I can’t hear you like that,” he reaches over and gently pulls the quilt from your hands, laying it down again. He takes one of your hands that have fallen to your lap, intertwining your fingers, “Can you say that again for me? Please?”

His softness is making more tears well, your eyes trained on your hands as you let out a shaky exhale, voice meek. 

“Are you…Do you still wanna be with me?”

Your gaze flicks up to Javi’s face and his thumb stops brushing against your hand. Thick brows knit together, confusion and hurt mixing in his wide eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak once and then twice, finally holding your hand tighter and matching your volume.

“Of course, I do, cariño. Why would you think I don’t want that? Have I done something to make you feel like that?”

“It’s just — You’ve been so distant the past few weeks. Canceling dates, or telling me you can’t come over, or staying late and leaving early for work. I don’t want you to be upset, but it, um, it's made me feel like maybe you wanna break up or maybe…you’ve found someone else. It’s the same thing that my ex did, and I know you’re not him but my brain just can’t shut up about what it all makes me feel or-or think about.”

“Someone else? Mi amor, you are all I want. I love you. Solo seras tu por el resto de mi vida (It will only be you for the rest of my life),” he peels the covers back from your legs and stands, nudging you over to sit on the bed. His forearm muscles flex as he pulls you across his lap, arms circling around your waist and hand running fingertips up and down your spine methodically.

“There’s been shit after shit piling up at work and Murphy’s been on my ass to stay late and come in early to try to get one step ahead of these sicarios. And then yesterday we got a lead from one of our informants that turned out to be a dead end. I’ve just been stressed, I guess. And not handling it well. I'm sorry…It’s not an excuse for neglecting you, but believe me when I say, all I think about is you. There could never be anyone else ‘cause I can’t shut up about you — you can ask Steve if you don’t believe me, but if we aren’t talking about work, I make one mention of you and he rolls his eyes.”

The thought pulls a subtle smile to your face, hand reaching up to wipe your falling tears. Javi gets there before you, his featherlight touch swiping the moisture away from your cheeks.

“You’ve made me soft, cielito. Lost my reputation as big, bad Agent Peña. Now everyone around the office just says your name and I respond a lot quicker.”

That breaks you, making you laugh genuinely and shake your head. A bright grin on your face pulls your cheeks up and glistens the salty water in your eyes, “You’re definitely lying, but it’s a cute story so I will let it slide.”

“I swear to god, I’m not bluffing. Put me in a polygraph, I’ll pass with flying colors.”

“Oh no, I believe the part about you responding faster to my name and being soft. I don’t believe that anyone at work ever thought of you as ‘big, bad Agent Peña’.” 

Your smile slides into an impish grin, Javi’s mouth dropping open and eyes widening in offense. It doesn’t last for long, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth up as he listens to you laugh at his expense. Affection floods his eyes and he looks at you tenderly, leaning in to press a sweet but supple kiss to your lips. His wide smile is still evident on his face when he pulls away, his sincere tone resonating in your chest.

“I missed you, cielto. I miss you every damn day when I go to work and have to come home alone…” his eyes flash with an idea, a definitive request following, “Move in with me. Solves the problem of you needing a new place and I can come home to my beautiful girlfriend every night. What do you say, mi amor?”

“I say, you better be a good roommate.” 

Javier wiggles his eyebrows as he leans for a kiss, words coated in his signature charm, “I definitely will be. Gonna be the best you ever had, in more ways than one. Don’t think our neighbors are gonna like us, though. Voy a tenerte gritando mi nombre todas las noches (I’m going to have you screaming my name every night).”

The phrase takes a second to translate in your head, mouth falling open in a gasp and a playful smack hitting his shoulder.

“Don’t make the neighbors hate me!”

A smug grin crosses his face as he moves to lay you down on the bed, crawling over you between your spread legs.“I think you’ll be saying something much different after the first night you’re living with me, mi amor. Estarás rogando por más (You’ll be begging for more).”

Your eyes start to roll and Javi presses his lips to yours in a slow, passionate kiss. He lifts his head away from you, adoration in his eyes.

"Te amo, mi cielito. Seré tuyo para siempre si me tienes (I love you, my heaven. I'll be yours forever if you'll have me)."

tagging some peeps from my other javi fic!

taglist: @swiftispunk @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lil-stark @joelsversion @mrsvedder12 @starsandsaints07 @wild-fauxed @rubyshouse @notes-from-my-journal @mi-place @killervirgosworld @paytonispunk @jakecockley @hydrangaces @jupitercorgi @nic0lodean @creedslove @westeros-needs-me @ikigailereve @the-casual-cat @marysucks-blog @midnightswithdearkatytspb @luamarieta @kaletastrophes @nasanatmfers @storyarcscribe @asirenbyanyothername @frustratedpanda @dieterbravo @theelishad @pascalislove @bigbutchenergee @starkovli @scrambledslut @atinylittlepain @beskarandblasters @johnwatsn @thetriumphantpanda

[doctorcanon]

I cant sleep so modern!linked universe hc time.

- Rusl buys Twilight a dna/ancestry thing for his 20th birthday.

- having been adopted into the Ordon family since the age of 15, the gift doesn't go over well at first.

-However after some deep conversations, Rusl explains that he promised Twilight birth parents that he'd do this if anything happened to them.

- Still Twilight procrastinates and after some cajoling from midna, finally does it a year later for his 21st birthday.

- at his party, a small family dinner at the Ordon home with Zelda, Illia and Midna in attendance, he lays the envelope on the table and says "before I open this, I want you all to know that what ever I find in here that you are all my family and I love you all."

- the first thing in the envelope is his genetic information, some basic stuff he already knows, some stuff he doesn't and somethings Zelda remarks he should see a doctor about. Apparently he's actually 65% Karariko as Renado predicted.

- the second thing is copies of his mother and father's Service Papers. Both served in the military; one as a murse and other as an officer. Both died of burns and smoke inhalation after rescuing several of their fellow tenants when the apartment above theirs caught fire.

- the third thing is a list of public records. His father was originally from Hateno and an only child save for a half brother who died a few years later. His mother, from kakariko, had two much younger siblings. Sheik and Link.

- while there are some records of a custody battle Shiek and Link were separated in the system after the death of their mother. There is an obituary written by Twilights mother with a picture of her and her three children. There's no further information about Link or Sheik.

- Until one last little page slips out, A wedding announcement from 10 years ago. Announcing the joyful union of Malon Lon and Link Kokiri. He's seen this before.

- in fact, Twilight sees this exact newspaper clipping framed in his old boss's office. He visits at least twice a month. He even jokes with him the it was the only proof the guy could actually smile.

- The Lon Lon Family owns their aptly named Lon Lon ranch but he reports to Malon's husband directly when it came to the horses. Especially Epona. He just saw the man last week, for crying out loud!

- He has an uncle. And he's already known the man for 5 years now. They thought it was just a funny coincidence that they had the same name.

- Illia says its fate. Zelda assures him that this can't be an accident. Midna presses his cell phone into his hands. Rusl tells him that its his decision and that they'll respect whatever that may be.

- He calls first, of course. He only works at the ranch on weekends these days anyway. It would be weird to just show up to his shift and just go "hey, do you know im your nephew?"

- he asks if Mr Kokiri would like to talk some time under the guise of needing some advice. Under all the grump and sarcasm, Kokiri really is a saint and easily says yes, asking if Twilight is okay since he sounds stressed.

- the next day, Twilight stumbles into his boss's office with all the papers in his hands.

- "if you need advice about school, you've come to the wrong place, kid."

"No...uh sir this ain't about school. Yet. But uh...do you recognize this picture?"

- he sets down the obituary with its photo of his mother, grandmother, Sheik and Link somewhere in Karariko. Kokiri studies it but otherwise seems clueless. "No, sorry, I dont."

- "Well according to these papers," Twilight sets them on the desk and spreads them out so he can see. "This is my mom. And this is you. Her brother. I think...I think you're my uncle."

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 14

Synopsis: The Reader gets a potential glimpse into her future. She also makes an enemy.

A/n: yeaaayyyy. More fun. Fuckery world building. Thanks to all my readers. I should probably do a tag list instead of zapping ur inboxes. Uhhh....yeah. to my mutuals who have to deal with me and aren't attached to this, I am sorry. I love you and I would donate my organs to you.

Grades were posted. Most were good, nothing to really write home about. You did far better than you expecting. The self-doubt really was deep-rooted, wasn’t it?

Except one. That stupid alien gave you a near-perfect. Just one point shy of an absolutely perfect one-hundred percent.

So much for no favoritism…

You’d take it anyways. And not bring it up…

Work was slow but it was steady.

He even met you between shifts at your park.

You started feeling a tad insane without him. Did love feel like this? You admitted you had little experience with love. Just what you attempted to create in the past. And trashy books and television shows and movies and songs…

You needed him like you needed a cigarette and a stiff drink after a long day.

Bella Swan would be so proud of you, you degraded yourself in your mind.

“How is work going?” The Doctor asked with genuine shine of curiosity in his tone and face.

“The amount of professors in now…I have to dodge them! I do think the statistics professor I had two terms ago recognized me!” You spoke in a shocked, scared tone. You didn’t need that getting out. Could ruin your future plans.

“Oh no!” He chuckled, as he handed you a bit of sandwich.

“You aren’t forgettable.”

You skeptically glared over at him.

“Any who. How was your gig at the student union?”

“No one appreciated the irony of Pink Floyd.”

“And?”

“Everyone loves Doctor Disco!” He flourished then played air guitar.

You burst out laughing. With a quick roll of your eyes, you shook your head.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I invented the concept!”

“Probably true!” You let yourself think of his time on Earth. Who knew what funk he has spread? You weren’t going to delve into it much more.

Yet.

One day, when you felt brave enough.

“I have to go to London for a while in two weeks. Just maintenance of the Black Archives…I need to streamline some stuff for making it easier for my next few regenerations. And update some things about a plan for proxy since another organization is down to a woman named Gwen and her husband and she’s thinking of retiring the entire engagement. Her…leader hasn’t returned to the planet in ages. I doubt he ever will. This planet has caused him too much pain. Which, ironic, since his ancestors came from here. Talk about mother wounds! Just upload all the databases for UNIT to deal with.”

“Inviting me?” You clarified.

“Yeah…I think it’ll take a week. Especially with the layers of bureaucracy that is in place these days.” He looked over, his hair caught in the wind. “Could you spare a week? No TARDIS, no time travel. Just hop to, hop out, the slow way around.”

You licked your top row of teeth and scraped it back into place.

“Sure?”

“Perfect. I’ll have them ready a room, a better room for us.”

“One with a window?”

“If they do have those.”

You nodded.

“It’s a date!”

“Fantastic.” He smiled but seemed to flash in his eyes some hidden response from just the one word…

You chewed your shared sandwich and sipped your can of Coke Zero. The weather was getting warmer and the sun was actually shining in one of those perfect, photo-ready days.

“The vitamin D feels good, doesn’t it?” You turned your head to face the sun. The heat felt too good on your skin. You let a little moan slip through your lips.

“Perhaps. I might need a sun crème soon.” He replied.

You snorted. He was bone pale, but you didn’t know how alien skin worked yet.

“Yeah, you are pretty pale.”

Your alarm went off and you had to go.

Final good-byes said and you stalked off.

You had to plan out your little London escape. If it was hard work for him, you wanted to kill time in comfort. Do some sightseeing. Nothing major. London had tons of viral cafés and pop-ups.

The time flew by…

And suddenly you were off and away in another fancy armored Range Rover with armed escorts.

He did do you a bit of justice and got you a room with a view. Just not a particularly stunning one…

He went off, rather rapidly if you did say so yourself, because something needed him to submit his DNA and he couldn’t have any radiant interference. Petronella needed to be with him to get her DNA analyzed or something. You were not going to try to comprehend.

Fine by you, you’d nose around. There were so many floor and he gave you some sort of weird blank paper he said would get you through anything you needed.

“It’s psychic paper!” He said, smile up to his ears.

“Looks like a piece of printer paper shoved into an old wallet to me.” You replied as you regarded the object.

Fine by you, you stuffed it in your jean’s pocket.

You found yourself on the first floor, and saw a door open. There was a sign posted on an easel. ‘Companions and Surviving Family Support Group’, it proclaimed.

You put two and two together. It was probably in reference to the man doing who-knows-what.

You weren’t a companion per say. The Doctor assured you as much.

Did you invade? Did you go look at your future? Or a potential future? It mentioned family members…

Your curiosity got the best of you. Like that damn cat!

You walked in, it was set up like a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. Coffee, sweet treats, chairs all in a circle.

There were already a crowd of people.

And your entrance wasn’t exactly planned.

You slid onto the chair that was closest to the door. An east exit if this was too much.

“Oh! A new face!” A woman with a lot of life etched into her face with a kind smile and a mop of white-shock hair, her lips as red as blood.

“Does, is…am I late?” Was the best you could choke out. You could feel your eyes start to bulge. You swallowed hard. All eyes were on you. You didn’t like it. You preferred anonymity.

The mistake was already clear in your mind.

“No, dove. Right on time! We’re still waiting on Ian! I’m Jo!” She scooted her chair closer to you.

You thrust your tongue out and bit it’s side.

“I’m (y/n).”

A short woman with a leather jacket and all the authoritarian air of something that placed your hairs on the back of your neck at attention glared at you and Jo. “Why don’t we save it all for introductions…”

You got up and grabbed a bottle of water and sat back down.

An ancient man wandered in and sat down.

“Oh! Ian, love! We got a new straggler!” Jo said to him and gave him a hug that seemed too strong for her aged body.

The bossy girl cleared her throat. “Now we can start.”

You hated her already. She clearly ran this group with an iron fist.

There was Jo, Ian, the bitch’s name was Yaz, Martha, a woman who called herself Ace, a married couple named Nyssa and Tegan, a grandmother and grandson duo named Graham and Ryan, a Mel, and some young man named Luke…

Quite a big group.

It came down to you, you introduced yourself. And were supposed to give some brief synopsis of your relationship with the Doctor.

You stared off into space.

“Yeah, he’s here…doing something. I don’t know. I’m his…girlfriend. He’s also a professor at my university.” You stared at your left palm and gauged the reaction. “Nothing major. I’ve got his promise that he’s not going to get me in the way of death.” You finished with a shrug. “He introduced me to his…ex recently. Some milf named Missy. Have you lot met her?”

Yaz’s eyes could have make entrails out of you…

“What? Did I not brush my teeth correctly?” You pointed that faux-question towards her.

“She told me she didn’t do relationships.” She spoke in a tiny voice eventually.

“Well, maybe I’m special.” You shot Yaz a shit-eating grin masked as an innocent smile.

“Oh! I heard the Master went female!” Jo broke up your brewing tiff. “He was such a softie towards me! I enjoyed our little battles.”

You laughed and covered up your palm.

The conversations went on. Mainly centered around Missy now. Apparently she was the prime minister and tortured Martha and her family. Also, body-snatched Nyssa’s father. And became a cat. She’d certainly done her fair share of damage. No wonder she was chained up in a basement in Bristol of all places.

That explained her feline nature.

“Which Doctor are you with?”

“I don’t know. Tall? Thin? Scottish? Severe face? Plays guitar? Wild grey hair. Dark roots, too handsome…yeah.” You didn’t know how many or what the Doctor looked like previously.

“Oh. So the one before Yaz and Graham and me!” Ryan piped up. “She mentioned being a grey-haired Scot right before we met her.”

“Oh, so he got his wish of being a chick next.” You affirmed.

“Wonder what happened to you!” Yaz said, venom starting to leak into her voice.

“Nothing I need to know about, okay?” You pressured back. Two could play this game.

She clearly had sour grapes over you getting chosen and not her.

More conversations broke out, more story-swapping. You started to feel beyond way out just out of your depths. You had to keep your calm. Especially in front of your new foe. Any weakness and you were going to be either throwing down with her or she’d do something unspeakable.

She was apparently a police officer, after all!

“So you’ve never gone on an adventure? To space? Not even back in time? Or forward?” Ace spoke incredulously.

“No, I’m not going to put my life at risk. I made him promise to not. He’s retired. He just needs to help UNIT and rehabilitate Missy.”

“She doesn’t stay good!” Yaz spit out. She then told her tale of him and how the only way to break free from him, the Doctor had to hand Missy over to the Nazis.

“Not my problem.” You said, after finally scraping your jaw off the floor.

“And wow, what the fuck happened between now and when? Handing over someone to the literal Nazis?” You shot up an errant hand and glared. “And hanging around cops. No offense. It’s like historical Jesus versus American Jesus.” You made the decision to bite your middle finger nail in a covert attempt to flip her off.

“Maybe you had something to do with it.” She accused.

“Oh, yeah. Blame me.” You said.

Others attempted civility between the two of you.

Martha seemed between two minds here.

“Just remember how powerful your emotions are!” Ian called out. “Especially how deeply the Doctor evokes them in us!”

It dawned on you, and you decided to take the highest of roads. “Yeah, were dealing with some alien. Like…damn. We really are out here getting….cut up over an alien. He’s our weird alien. But yeah.” He was your alien. And you were going to defend your man, but you didn’t want Yaz and her feelings to make you any less powerful. “His body count has got to be in the millions.” You used the term in a way to dig in that the Doctor picked you for the mainstream meaning and not Yaz. But it worked for companions too!

“Who knows how many of us he’s taken a shine to!” Suddenly you felt yourself heart plummet. You knew you weren’t special as part of a group, but you decided to soothe yourself with your marked differences. No magical abduction story. Just a normal, morally-grey student and teacher relationship. Only it was your luck to end up with the most ran-through alien.

And, it did suit you. You too were ‘ran-through’.

You wished he was free and you could get some comfort here…

You felt yourself return to normal, and decided to pass the ultimate catch.

“Sorry for getting heated. The past month or so since he’s revealed his double life to me, has been…shattering. I’ve only recently discovered that he was…you know, not some man I hang out with. I only recently started calling him Doctor. Not Professor Smith.”

The though of him not taking anyone else as a lover after you did fill you with a sense of pride. Whatever impact you had, that was a mark in your favor. Loyal to you…even if you were dead or broken-up or whatever your fate was to mess around with anyone else.

A permanent (y/n)-shaped hole no one could even get close enough to fill.

When he was done with his task you’d have to slap him and then suck him off.

Martha finally put in her two cents.

“Just don’t get hurt. The last time he was in love when I was with him…so bad. The ending was enough to destroy me.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation went back to normal. You really enjoyed Jo’s stories. Apparently he was a white-haired debonair sort for her. You were curious to see what that had looked like. You doubted it could compare to your particular Doctor, but it was probably very close.

You found yourself laughing and getting along with most. Except for Yaz. You both kept finding yourselves shooting daggers at each other.

You tried to rise above it.

However. You were only human…

You heard a sharp rap at the door and turned at the noise.

It was your Doctor.

“Sorry. I was going to the toilets. Heard some nice familiar voices. Smelt the coffee! I love a cup of coffee after genetic sequencing…Hello!”

There were nary a word as he strode over and made a cup, dumping about a dozen sugar packets in.

“I’ll let you all talk amongst yourselves. Oh, and (y/n), I have tickets to walk through the Chelsea Physic Garden at three. Will you join me? And Martha, I am so deeply sorry for all I’ve done to you. It’s weighed on my conscience since I was a young man in a bow-tie. Truly. From the bottoms of both my hearts. And, oh, faces I don’t know yet, catch your laters.” He shot a quick peace sign.

He breezed out with the same ease that he came in with…

You flushed hard and felt yourself wanting to kick your legs hard. The smile that crept up around your face was probably very goofy. You felt suddenly very giddy and lovesick. And embarrassed.

You swore you heard Yaz mutter something about “Daddy issues”.

You wanted to snap and fight her on the floor.

Jo and Ace heckled. “Oh, he’s back to being a groovy gentleman.” Jo said. “I recognize that red jacket!”

After a while, everyone seemed to wrap it up.

You received quite a few warnings about how passionate a relationship with the Doctor is, and how it would eventually run it’s course.

You didn’t know whether to heed it, or believe him. You were airing on the side of him. After all, he could have popped down here in his TARDIS, but he was following your regulations down to the letter. Changed behaviors, and for whatever reason, when you were long gone, and he was a she, the Doctor didn’t take Yaz up on her romantic offerings.

You felt ashamed of your ‘I can fix him’/’I am the only exception’ mindset. You were a rebel to the idea of monogamy usually. You also didn’t believe in true love. Not after all that you’d seen at work and even experienced in your personal life. However, the beating of your heart and the ache in your soul and the throb of your cunt interfered…

You felt like you were his favorite.

Maybe you were.

You were delusional enough, you decided.

With final hugs and you swore you’d get down and learn more about your shared alien, you’d exited to go and text him that you were out front, smoking.

“You know, maybe you died from lung cancer.” Yaz materialized, carrying some stuff to her car. “Or emphysema.”

You blew out a puff in her general direction.

“I don’t need a lecture. He’s already on my ass enough to get me to quit.” You played back.

“So, lady Doctor. What does she look like?” You asked. Curious. You tried a friendly route. “Still Scottish?” The two incarnations of Time Lords you had met had been. It was an honest question. You even tried a cordial laugh.

“No, definitely not Scottish.”

You nodded.

“She’s blonde and has the most amazing eyes! I took her to get her ears pierced. She’s the most incredible and infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

“Apparently that’s par for the course.” You agreed.

She gave you some agreement.

“Does she still play guitar?” You offered an opportunity to bond, girl to girl. You may have hated her, but a cop on your side may come in handy. One day. And you both were tied to each other now.

So…you had to act your age or whatever.

She was a little younger than you. You could remember being her age. Empathy.

“No, she can’t even carry a tune. She sings all the time.”

You had to let a small snort escape.

“He can sing really well.” You cupped a palm to your mouth. “It’s a bit annoying at times, you know. He frequently does during his lectures.”

“So…that hadn’t changed.” You could see the gears in her brain turning.

“Wait, he’s your professor?” She exclaimed.

“Not currently.” You shrugged, as his text saying that he was coming down popped up, absolved of guilt.

“That’s so wrong!”

“Honey, the Doctor abducts barely legal girls with a degree of regularity. I think a tame affair with a student who started uni later than most is the best-case scenario. You included.” You flicked a bit of ash off your cigarettes end. “No offense.”

“Yeah…” You clearly won.

He swanned into the little front garden at the entrance of UNIT. He changed to a hoodie and simple black blazer and a relaxed pair of checked trousers.

It made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey. I was thinking Italian for dinner. Or Thai. In the fifty-second century there’s a great collision of their flight colonies.”

You smacked your teeth together and let out the final puff of smoke.

“You’re the Doctor before my Doctor.” Yaz gazed up, a look of pre-mourning in her eyes.

“As my wife, River, would say, ‘Spoilers, sweetie.’ It’s nice to meet you early. I’ll try to wipe you from my memory to make it easier for my future self.” He gave Yaz’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah, good luck. See you soon?” You called out as you let yourself be swept off your feet by your particular Doctor.

“Sure?” You heard her say.

A few blocks later and going on the Underground, you pulled him close by the lapels. You gave him a firm kiss and slapped his ass. It was a ‘thank-you’ in a small, simple way. You’d never end up, all things go as planned, like any of those perfect victims. Who knew, maybe you’d dump him. It was all open-ended.

You had your entire life ahead of you. More or less.

For now, it was just you, the Doctor, and a walk in a garden with a fabulous dinner date.

“What was that for?” He looked at you quizzically.

“You’ll never know…” You grinned immensely and a little psychotically. You felt your nose crinkle a bit.

“Oh?” He replied back, skeptical in tone.

It was a start.

“Yeah…” You breathed, inhaling this moment. Inhaling the scent of him, you felt sane, safe, stable and most importantly- in love and loved back.

The train pulled up.

A perfect start to a perfect week.

He snaked out the psychic paper and tapped it like it was an oyster card. You entered the platform and smiled up at him...

Yeah, life was beyond awesome.

[sequinsmile-x]

Achene

It felt almost cruel that the world carried on, as if hers hadn’t shifted with the loss of a baby she never got to meet.

Emily and Aaron try to move forward together.

-x-

Hi friends,

My insomnia is back in full swing, which means the hurt/comfort is also back in full swing.

Couldn't say where the idea for this one came from, but it wouldn't leave me alone and writing it kept me from accidentally napping on the couch after work and making my sleep pattern even worse.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warning: Miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When he wakes up alone, he knows where he’ll find her. 

It was a pattern they’d fallen into over the last couple of weeks. Usually, he’d be the one who woke up first, Emily’s face still pressed into his chest, a tiny patch of drool on his shirt underneath her open mouth. He’d always wake her gently, running his hand up and down her back in a way he had done on their first night together, a habit that had carried them through from boyfriend and girlfriend, to fiances to now husband and wife. He liked it, enjoyed the predictability of how much she hated the mornings and waking up, the way she’d grumble as she slowly opened her eyes, never quite able to fight a smile as their eyes met. 

The last two weeks had been different. She’d woken up before him every morning, the sheets on her side already cool to the touch. It made him worry she was barely sleeping, if she was sleeping at all, and it only added to the concern already pooling deep in his gut, seeds that had been planted days ago blooming and taking up all the space in his chest. He blows out a steady breath and stands up, rolling his neck as he steps towards the ensuite, the light streaming out from under the door confirming what he already knew.

He doesn’t say anything as he steps into the room. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, giving his wife the lead in how they move forward. It was a grim pattern they’d fallen into, one he didn’t know how to get out of, and it broke his heart. 

“It’s already fading,” she says, the only indication she’d noticed him walking into the room. She turns to look at him, a positive pregnancy test in her hand, a tight forced smile on her face, “I have to tilt it in a certain way to see the result now,” she clenches her teeth and sighs, shaking her head at herself as she places the test back in the draw she had taken to keeping it in, “Soon there won’t be anything…” 

She trails off, but he already knows what she’s going to say, and he steps forward, his hands on her hips as he tugs her into a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, her hands in fists in the back of his shirt as she buries her face in his neck, anchoring herself to him as if he was the only thing keeping her upright. 

They’d been trying. Meticulously planning to have a baby that they’d both wanted for a long time. There was a box of ovulation tests in the cabinet that Emily started her days with to keep track, and a thermometer in her nightstand that she used to track her basal body temperature. It was something they’d wanted desperately, and when after a few months they got a positive result from a pregnancy test Emily had taken because she felt a little off they were overjoyed. Aaron had run into the bathroom the moment he heard her crying through the door, ready to comfort her but she’d beamed at him, the very same test he’d just found her holding clutched in her hand. 

Their joy was short-lived. 

The scan Emily had excitedly scheduled that morning, the only one they ended up having for that pregnancy revealed two things. Emily had been a week further along than she’d calculated, closer to 9 weeks than the 8 she’d estimated, and there was no heartbeat. The air had been sucked out of the room when the doctor told them, Emily’s hand slack in his as she nodded along when she was given instructions on what came next. It was a conversation she’d had once before in wildly different circumstances when she was a child herself. 

When they made it home from the hospital she’d finally broken down, cried the tears she refused to shed in front of anyone other than him. She’d deleted the app on her phone that was tracking her cycles, the one she’d only just switched to ‘pregnant’ mode, and tearfully told him the fruit for 9 weeks, a gimmick they’d both unexpectedly loved, would have been a strawberry. 

The pregnancy test was the only evidence they had that the baby had existed, and watching it slowly fade was devastating, another type of loss he hadn’t anticipated. 

“We should get ready for work,” she mutters against him, not loosening her grip, and he sighs, taking a moment to press a kiss to the top of her head before he pulls back, his hands on her lower back as he smiles encouragingly at her. 

She hadn’t been back to work since the miscarriage, but today was supposed to be her first day back. None of the team knew what had happened, something Emily had been insistent on, and they thought she’d been sick with the flu. The lie had worked, and it also gave them a good reason why Aaron wasn’t currently going away on cases. Whilst the reason their friends had for her absence wasn’t true, his desire not to leave her alone was. 

“You don’t have to go back today if you don’t feel ready for it,” he says, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “The boss has a bit of a thing for you so I think you’d get away with more time off.” 

She chuckles sadly and turns her head to kiss his palm, pressing her grateful love into his skin, “I do have to go back,” she says softly, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers together, “I can’t just keep sitting here thinking about everything that could have been,” she shrugs half-heartedly, “Plus, I’m not sure how much longer the others will buy the flu excuse.” 

He nods and runs his hand up and down her back, “If you want to come home at any time-”

“I just have to tell you,” she says, leaning forward to stamp her lips against his, “Thank you. For being…well you I guess.” 

He pulls her into a hug and kisses the side of her head, “You never have to thank me for loving you, sweetheart.” 

___

She feels tired in just about every possible way. 

She’d been back at work for a couple of weeks and it felt like she’d never been away at all. The team didn’t ask many questions beyond asking if she was okay on her first day back. Life carried on much like it always had for her and Aaron. They went away on cases, they spent their weekends with Jack, they loved each other. But there were moments when she felt stuck, when the grief would be overwhelming and make her breath catch in her chest. 

It felt almost cruel that the world carried on, as if hers hadn’t shifted with the loss of a baby she never got to meet. She knew they’d try again, the doctor's soft assurances that they could at her recent appointment ringing around her head, but it didn’t help. Especially since she knew if she was still pregnant they’d be getting ready to share the news with their friends, their chosen family, and the thought of it made her ache. 

She sighs as she settles into the couch, relieved to be home after a long couple of days away. She hears Aaron’s familiar footsteps on the hardwood floor and she smiles as she looks at him, gratefully accepting the glass of red wine that he hands to her. 

“Thanks, honey,” she says softly, shifting so she’s facing him when he joins her on the couch, “It’s nice to be home.” 

He hums as he sips his wine, “You’re telling me. That mattress in that motel did a real number on my neck,” he complains. She places her wine down and puts her hand on the back of his neck, pressing her thumb and forefinger into his skin, massaging the area she knew he carried the most tension, “God that feels good.” 

She chuckles and leans in to kiss his cheek, “When we’re in bed I’ll massage your back if you want.” 

“I’d love that,” he says as he turns his head to capture her lips in a kiss and smiles into it. He’s glad to see her more like herself, the sadness that had permeated everything in recent weeks still there, but not as overwhelming as it had been. He’d missed her smile, missed the sound of her laugh, and more than anything he wanted to protect her from being hurt anymore. It’s why he suddenly feels nervous, worried that what he’d been planning for a few weeks might set her back. He decides to go ahead anyway and he blows out a slow breath before he reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket, “I got you something.” 

She smiles curiously at him and tilts her head as he pulls a square box out of his pocket. Her curiosity suddenly turns to panic as she furrows her brows and tries to think of what the date is, if she’d somehow forgotten something important as she waded through her grief. 

“It’s not our anniversary is it?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out and pressing the box into her hand, “No, Em. It’s not. This is just…” he doesn’t know how to say it, how to put it into words, so he clears his throat, “I think you’ll understand when you open it.” 

She hums, “Oh, that’s mysterious…”

She drifts off as she opens the box, her words caught in her chest along with her breath, making her feel like she could burst with emotions she can’t name. In the box is a necklace, a delicate silver chain with a tiny pendant on it, the detail of which, the seeds and the ridges, were only visible up close

It was a strawberry. 

She huffs out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she covers her mouth with the hand not clasping the jewellery box. She can’t do anything other than stare at the necklace, at the pendant she knows Aaron would have painstakingly chosen because of a comment she’d made the day they found out about the miscarriage. 

“I ordered it a few weeks ago,” he says, clearing his throat again, hating that he can’t read her expression, that he can’t tell what she’s thinking, “It took a little while because it was custom made. Dave gave me the name of a guy.” He adds, his smile fading as his wife still doesn’t react. Dave had made a joke, one Aaron knows he wouldn’t have made if he knew the circumstances, about Aaron enjoying the finer things in life now he had married into money. “I thought it would be good for you to have something-”

“To remember the baby by,” she says, finally finding her voice and looking up at him, tearing her gaze away from the necklace. Her chest feels hollowed out, like all the love she has for him is forcing its way up her throat, “Aaron…” 

He only feels more worried when she trails off again, her eyes shining as she trails her finger over the small pendant, and he swallows thickly, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea, I just wanted to do something to help-”

This time she cuts him off by kissing him, her lips stamped against his as she grabs his chin, holding him in place as she rests her forehead against his, the jewellery box pressed between them. 

“No, it’s perfect,” she pulls back and looks at him, chuckling wryly as tears fall onto her cheeks, “You’re perfect.” 

He smiles and wipes her tears away, his touch soft against her skin, “You want me to help you put it on?” 

She nods and passes him the box, watching intently as he carefully picks the necklace up and undoes the clasp. She turns and pulls her hair to the side and she breathes shakily as he puts the necklace around her neck, his touch gentle as he does the clasp up and adjusts the chain. She touches the strawberry pendant, holding it between her thumb and forefinger and she sighs, closing her eyes as Aaron tugs her back into his embrace until her back meets his chest. He wraps his arms tightly around her and kisses her cheek, and she rests her hands over his. 

“I love you,” she says, grateful when he ignores the shake of her voice, “So fucking much.” 

He kisses her temple and pulls her impossibly closer, “I love you too.” 

___

One Year Later

Emily hums contentedly as she rocks back and forth in the armchair, the nameless melody turning into a yawn as she looks at the time.

3.20 am

She tilts her head down to look at the three-week-old lying on her chest, his eyes wide open as he refused to fall asleep. She chuckles to herself and kisses the top of her son’s head, taking a moment to breathe him in. 

“You really do get your hate of sleep from your Daddy, sweet boy,” she says softly, kissing his head again. 

“I don’t hate sleep,” Aaron says, smiling when she turns to see him standing in the nursery doorway, “I just get up early.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “Sounds like the same thing to me,” she says as he walks across the room and joins them, perching on the arm of the armchair, “Did we wake you up?” 

“No,” he assures her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and smiling at the sight of his youngest fighting sleep in her embrace, “I woke up and you weren’t there so I came to see how you were doing.” 

“We’re okay,” she says, turning her attention back to the baby, “We’re okay, huh? We’re just trying to get back to sleep after a diaper change and a 3 am snack.” 

Aaron watches contentedly as Emily runs her hand up and down the infant's back, lulling him to sleep against her. He wishes he could go back and tell his wife that they’d make it to this, that the clouds had parted and they’d found happiness after the storm. 

“He gets the need for a 3 am snack from you,” he says and she playfully narrows her eyes at him before she looks back down at her son. 

She strokes her fingers over his cheek, smiling as he twitches, the corner of his mouth turning up into something that resembles a smile. His eyes finally drift shut, his fight against sleep a battle he had lost, and he relaxes against her. The only thing that hadn’t relaxed was his fist, tight even in his sleep around the chain of her necklace, his little fingers next to the strawberry pendant that symbolised the loss they’d had before him. It was a complicated kind of grief, one she thinks she’ll never get used to. The acknowledgement that if she hadn’t lost that baby she wouldn’t have her son was hard to accept, a bittersweet taste left on her tongue whenever she thought about it. 

“You want me to take him?” Aaron asks quietly, drawing her from her thoughts, and she smiles and nods, taking a second to kiss her son’s forehead. 

“Mommy loves you, sweet boy,” she says, kissing him again, “I’ll see you in a little while.” 

She watches as Aaron carefully lifts the baby and carries him back towards their bedroom. She follows them, her fingers automatically reaching for her necklace, something she now wore at all times. She rubs the pendant back and forth between her finger and thumb, a movement she had found comfort in ever since Aaron had first put the necklace around her neck, and she smiles as Aaron gently lowers the baby into the bassinet, simultaneously treating the newborn like he was something precious and a bomb that could go off at any moment. He turns to smile at her once he’s done, his smile curious as he catches her staring at him. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she says, letting go of the pendant and letting it fall back into place against her skin. She walks across the room and climbs into bed, her exhaustion returning in full force as soon as she’s under the comforter, “I just love you, thats all.” 

He smiles and gets into bed with her, tugging her against him as they settle down, both facing the direction of the bassinet where their son was sleeping, “I love you too.” 

They fall asleep in tandem, and when they are woken up just an hour later by the baby crying, they are still tangled up around each other, not sure where the other ended and where they began. 

-x-

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