#saying they to keep it mysterious because the lapped car is one of my babies

[formulapisces]

Goddammit what did he do this time 😭

nothing 😭 some people are just mad he broke maxs trophy + complained about lapped cars

[makethemhoesmad]

close to you

paigey🫶

might have a part two, might not

enjoy!

—

I don't got a single problem with provocative

it had been a while since i’d been out. i haven’t wanted to look good, pretty, slutty, in months. tonight was different. nothing had happened, exactly. one thing just lead to another, then i called my friends and here we are, driving out to somewhere i always forget the name of.

See the bodies, how they burn, it's just the way it is

there are so many people here, all packed together like sardines. i brush hips and arms and hands with people, not remembering their faces, names, or voices when they try to apologize softly, but end up shouting in my face.

Smoky, dark, crowded room

it’s dark here, too. the air feels almost hazy, but that might just be me. i can’t find my friends, but i think i catch a glimpse of one of them far on the other end of the room, their blonde hair looking almost too bright for the atmosphere.

I need nothing under pink light in June

i don’t need my friends here, with me. not under the haze, the sweat, the loud music. who i thought was my friend turns around, face in a rare glimmer of pink spotlight, letting me realize that this blonde woman isn’t someone i know. however, as my eyes skate down her body, noting toned abs and defined biceps, i find myself thinking that maybe id like her to be someone i know.

I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden

You saw me look at you

i guess i stare at this mystery girl too long, because she turns, making eye contact with me. i let out a short, audible gasp, flinching away immediately. i shouldn’t have. i should have looked right into those blue eyes until she was interested enough to come and talk to me.

I burn for you, and you don't even know my name

i don’t do that. i look away, face burning. this is fucking embarrassing. she doesn’t even know my name, i’m pretty sure i don’t know hers but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i should. i glance that way again, to see her gone. i’m almost disappointed, until a flash of blonde appears right next to me, and the body carrying it snakes an arm around my waist.

If you asked me to, I'd give up everything

“Hey ma, haven’t seen you here in ages.”

you stutter at her words. she remembers you coming here other times? you barely remember your last time here, why should a stranger know that?

“Haven’t been here in ages, but how would you know that?” i question, batting my eyes up at her. she’s quite a bit taller than me. taller than the average, that’s for sure.

“i’ve seen you, baby, and ill always notice when a cute girl is here wandering around, looking a bit too intimidating.” with her words, she pulls me closer to her, then starts walking through the crowd, and pulls me out the door.

“too hot in there for you, sweetie?” i nudge at her, smirking playfully. she winks, sending a straight shot of heat right down to a place that shouldn’t be hot right now.

“nah, jus’ wanted to ask if you wanted to come home with me out here, where i can hear you better.”

To be close to you

no is probably the smart answer, but for some reason, my mouth keeps moving.

“you see, i’d say yes but i don’t even know your name. wanna start there, or should i just call you sweetheart and we go from there?” 

when the nickname tumbles from my lips, her eyes glaze over just the slightest. 

“paige.” she says. i tell her my name, and she drags me to her car. she leans over me, presumably to open to passenger seat. instead, she slots her lips against mine, letting out a quiet whimper when my mouth opens. i reach back, opening the door and letting us tumble in. she pulls me onto her lap, moving my hips into a heavy grind through our clothes. i groan against her lips, the sensations making my eyes roll back.

“you like that, baby?” She huffs into my ear. i respond by tucking my face into her chest, while rucking up her shirt. she’s wearing nothing under the thin cropped tank. 

i lean down even further, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. i moan around it, as paige speeds up her work on my hips. suddenly, she stops. she climbs over the center console into the drivers seat, then pulls me into a seated position.

“what are you doing, sweetheart?” i say. she seems to like the name still, because her tongue juts out to wet her bottom lip. 

“taking you to my place. wanna watch you come undone on my tongue, ma.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

requested by @onedirectionlovers2014

request: I was wondering if you could do a Dan Fielding fic from when night court was first on back in the 80's? One where him and the reader are sort of dating and the reader wants to have a kid and he flips out and gets scared because he's not ready to be a father. And he gets upset because he knows he hasn't treated her real good by cheating on her so Harry finds him and talks to him saying the reader has always forgave him for it and things like that?

Warnings: talk of having kids, Dan cheating, swearing

AN: I hope you like this! It was fun to write!

I stared at Dan as I tried to get the courage to talk to him. He watched the tv, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh in his lap. Every so often he would look over at me and smile.

“alright. Spill. What’s going on in that head of yours?” He finally asked. I sighed and leaned forward to mute the tv.

“I want a kid.” I breathed out. Dan froze. He opened and closed his mouth before shoving my legs off him.

“a kid?” He breathed out. I nodded. “With me?” I nodded again. Dan sat there staring at me before getting up and heading for the door. “I can’t do this…I have to…(Y/N)…I’m sorry.” Dan grabbed his coat and left. I sat there, tears streaming down my face as I nodded to myself.

“seems about right.” I whispered to myself as I made my way to our bedroom. Climbing into bed, I curled up on his side of the bed and cried myself to sleep.

——Dan POV——

I drove without thinking of where I was going. Before I knew it, I was in front of Harry’s apartment building. Sighing to myself, I debated getting out or just driving off. A knock on my window made my decision for me. I rolled down the window as Harry bent over.

“hi Dan.” Harry smiled and waved at me. “What brings you around here?” I sighed and shook my head. "That bad huh? Come on up. Let's talk." I nodded and rolled the window back up before turning off the car. I got out and followed Harry up to his apartment.

"It's (Y/N)." I muttered when we got in the door. Harry nodded and sat down on the couch. I leaned against a wall, knowing I'd be pacing soon enough. "They want a kid. With me."

"And what is wrong with that? Aside from the fact you would have to settle down and give up all those..." Harry waved his hand. I nodded.

“I…actually wouldn’t mind that.” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ve done (Y/N) wrong in that sense. I never should have kept cheating on them. Not like I’ve ever been monogamous but I want to be with them. I should have been…” my voice slowly rose as I pushed off the wall. I started pacing and trying to sort through my thoughts. “All the others, they don’t even compare! At all! I have no idea why I keep thinking it’s a good idea. I should have better control…” Harry touched my arm and I stopped.

“Dan, you do know (Y/N) doesn’t care right?” I stared at him. “If they did, you wouldn’t be dating still. They have forgiven you every time and you know why?” I shook my head as I let him guide me onto the couch. “Because they love you. They know how you are. What kind of man you are.” I looked down at my hands and sighed as I nodded along to what Harry was saying.

“I’m not ready to be a father Harry.” I whispered. Harry laughed. “I really don’t think I could handle it.”

“Dan Fielding. Father. Doesn’t have the ring I would expect but let me tell you something.” I stared at Harry expectantly. “You are the best out of all of us with Christine’s baby. When we had to deliver all those babies, you were the one to figure it out first. Sure you have your fears. And I know for a fact that (Y/N) has the same fears. Working in a courthouse will do that to anybody who even considers being a parent. But I just know, your kid would be different.”

“but Harry…” I started. Harry smiled at me and reached over to squeeze my hand.

“Dan your kid will be different because you care. And you’ll love that kid so much they aren’t going to know anything else.” Harry spoke with such certainty that it was hard not to believe him.

“you really think so?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly. Harry nodded.

“I know so.” He confirmed. I stood up and started towards his door. “Going back to (Y/N)?” I nodded, turning back towards him.

“yeah. They didn’t deserve me walking out on them either.” I said, a small smile forcing itself on my face. “I have a lot to apologize for. And something to discuss with them.” Harry nodded and patted my shoulder.

“good luck.” I left his apartment and hurried back down to my car.

——normal POV——

I was woken up by a gentle hand on my shoulder and a kiss to the cheek. I blinked slowly up at Dan as he smiled above me.

“hi.” He whispered. I reached up and he caught my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“hi.” I whispered back as I slowly sat up. “You’re back.” Dan nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, drawing me into a hug. “I’m so so sorry. For everything.” I clutched to his shirt like it was my lifeline. “For cheating. For running out. Everything.” Dan pulled back to kiss me. “I love you. And if you want a kid with me, then let’s do it.”

“are you sure?” I asked, surprise coloring my tone. Dan nodded. “Like really sure?” Dan laughed and nodded again.

“yes I’m sure. Let’s have a kid.” Dan kissed me again. I laughed along with him and Dan hugged me tight again.

“what changed your mind?” I asked, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Harry talked some sense into me.” Dan admitted. “As usual.” I laughed and drew back. “I love you. So much.” Dans eyes shown and I cupped his cheeks.

“I love you too.”

[missmeinyourbones]

can i have some general hcs for connie, jean, and eren? :-)

eren

mf is always cracking his knuckles. its his nervous habit he just subconsciously does it whenever he needs to distract himself or keep his hands busy. when you guys hold hands, he will sometimes crack urs as a little surprise and then laugh when you get mad and tell him you don’t want big knuckles

reads mystery novels because he likes to try and solve the mystery before the end. he sees it as a competition between him and the literal author of the book??? he LOVES a good plot twist but gets annoyed when he didn’t guess it lol. gets mad when the characters behave out of character ("baby you will never believe what connell just did. HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT???!!!") please imagine him with a kindle and reading glasses LMFAO

burns everything he makes. if it has to be heated up or cooked? its getting burnt. whether its the toaster, grill, stove, oven, it literally doesn’t matter. its coming out crispy. i hope you like burnt chicken <3

he always pulls ur chair out for u ;(((( even if ur at home and about to sit at the kitchen table to eat a snack he’s like WAIT and pulls it out so you can sit, then he shimmies it closer to the table ;((( also always opens the car door for you. makes you sit and wait while he gets out and walks around the car to your side lol

he loves candles so one is always lit in ur apartment. he really likes vanilla but also just neutral smells in general, like maybe lavender or pine. very picky about his actual candles though, like refuses to use a wax warmer, only uses three wick SOY candles, doesn’t blow out the flame until the whole layer has burned evenly. hes annoying 

connie

tells those stupid inappropriate jokes whenever he gets the chance. yes i’m talking about the deez nutz ones. he’s like hey babe have you seen my bofa? and ur like wtf are u talking about. he tells you "BOFA DEEZ NUTZ XD" and he sleeps on the couch that night

orders waffles every single time you guys go out to breakfast. he is a firm believer that they are better than pancakes because "the pockets hold the syrup and butter so perfectly" and "its the perfect ratio of crunchy and soft" (he’s dead wrong. pancakes for the win baby)

plays fortnite religiously. spends real life money on specific skins and emotes. the classic "where we droppin boys" while on ft with eren, jean, and armin. fights 9 year olds via microphone chat and accuses them of hacking when he loses to them

watches the bachelor/bachelorette a little too intensely. he loves making fun of the cheesy entrances and introductions they do. tries to guess the pecking order of the contestants. if you guys watch it together he makes it a game: "take a sip of ur wine every time he says "my future wife is in this room" lol or if a guy contestant does something shitty he’s like "amateur. i would never do that, especially if you were the bachelorette. would you give me a rose?" goodnight

loves laying down with his head in your lap. like its his go-to position whenever you are doing ANYTHING. watching a movie in bed? his head is in ur lap. ur reading a book on the couch? he makes himself very comfortable, asking you to slide over so he can sprawl out over your legs. if this mf could use your thighs as a pillow every night, he would

jean

doesn't let you pay for ANYTHING regarding dates and stuff >:( he thinks its gentlemanly and chivalrous (which it is) but as an annoying and stubborn s/o who believes relationships should be 50/50 you always try to pay every single time lmfao

cant watch a horror movie for the life of him. wants to be all tough and protect you but once you put one on and snuggle into the couch together you can feel his heart racing hehe. he jumps at all of the minor jump scares like lights flashing or music changes. the movie ends and he's like that wasn't even that bad babe but then you catch him checking to see if the door is locked and quickly scampering down the hall after turning off the lights LOL

SWIFTIE. swiftie swiftie big ol swiftie. yes this is me pushing my personal agenda. pretty mainstream but he LOVES her big hits like love story or shake it off. most definitely serenades you with lover at the top of his lungs. you educate him on her rerecordings and then one day you hear him and connie listening to red (taylor's version) and he's like "so she’s rerecording all of her old albums so she can own them herself" feminist king

prefers to use vaseline instead of chapstick. definitely believes in that conspiracy where there are tiny shards of glass in chapstick so they actually make your lips more dry and it forces you to buy more. he heard that and was like” baby what brand of chapstick do you use? here we can share this vaseline it works better and doesn't taste like bubblegum flavored ass”

he runs very hot??? like is always sweating??? the windows in ur guys’ apartment are always open so a nice breeze can flow through. but he also leaves them open in the winter and ur like baby its snowing SHUT THE WINDOW. and hes like “no leave it open we can cuddle for warmth like the cavemen did” (?????)

[crazyk-imagine]

Sicko

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Baby, Random witch

Warning: Things get weird, Baby’s love language is very touchy

Word Count: 1,295

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

“So, get this,” Sam starts. “The witch we’re after, turns a person’s most prized possessions into people.” 

“You’re saying she’s like the crazy version of Chucky,” Dean comments with a smirk. 

“That was a serial killer who used voodoo to put his soul into a doll,” you say, placing the rag you were using to clean your weapons, on the table. 

The older Winchester opens his mouth, trying to come up with a good come back. “Yeah- we- shut up! So, how do we find her?” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Sam picks up four of the most recent articles off of the table, handing them to Dean. “In all of these articles, it says that the victim always had a public job.” 

“You mean like a-” 

“No, Dean. I mean the second victim was a public defender. The first one was a judge. The third one was a bag boy at the local grocery store. She could have come into their office or the store and talked to them long enough to leave a hex bag or take whatever she needed for her spell.” 

“Okay, what about the fourth victim?” 

“That’s when things don’t add up.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The fourth victim was barely in town for a month. Hardly ever left his motel room. Never talked to anybody long enough to get to know them. It’s like he was a-” 

“Hunter?” You finish for him. 

“Didn’t it ever make you wonder why Garth was so hell bent on sending you two here?” 

“I mean, not really,” Dean shrugs. “It’s Garth. And, what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Why are you here? Didn’t Garth send you to figure out what’s going on?” 

“Not really.” 

“So, why are you here?” 

“I’m your backup.” 

“Backup?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re our backup?” 

“Is that a problem?” 

“No, no. It’s- it’s- it’s- weird.” 

“Why is it weird?” 

“Sammy’s my backup and I’m his.” 

“Now you have someone else in your corner. You’re welcome.” You get up out of the chair, grabbing your jacket, and car keys. “I’m hungry. I’ll be back.” 

“Hey. I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“Oh, I know. This is really bad timing but I’m seriously hungry and we shouldn’t be ganking anything on an empty stomach. Don’t worry, I’m making an extra stop and getting you some pie too.” 

“Marry me.” 

“You only want me because I get you pie.” 

“I can make our marriage worth your while.” 

“I’ll be back soon, boys. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” 

-

You walk in to find Dean sitting on the edge of the bed with a random girl on his lap, snuggling into him. 

Sam’s at the table, doing research. 

You set the bags of food on the table, glancing between the two brothers. Taking off your jacket, you hang it on the back of the unoccupied chair in front of you. “Hey guys? Who’s this?” 

“This- this is- this-” 

“Dean.” 

“Yeah?” 

“What did you two do?” 

He looks away, chuckling. “Us? We- we didn’t do anything.” 

“Who’s the chick on your lap then?” 

The mystery girl on Dean’s lap turns to you with a big smile on her face. She calls out your name before jumping onto your lap, hugging you. 

Your eyes widen, you wrap an arm around her and slap your other hand on the wall to keep yourself upright. You push her back. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t recognize me.” 

“I really don’t. Have we met before?” 

“Hey,” Sam says. “Don’t be alarmed when we tell you-” 

“It’s baby!” 

“Dean!” 

“She’s got those eyes, man. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.” 

You look down, “baby?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh… what the hell did you two do?” 

“We didn’t do anything,” both Winchesters say. 

“You expect me to believe that I leave and you two ends up with the human version of a car?” 

“She’s here,” baby interrupts you. 

“Do you know where she is?” 

“No.” 

“But she was here like she knows where we are?” 

“She knows everything about everyone.” 

“Okay. Do you know where she is?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Pack it up.” 

“What?” 

“We’re going on a witch hunt.” 

“How are we going to get there?” Dean asks. 

“We can take my car.” 

“What?” Dean walks closer to you, covering baby’s ears. “No. I’m not going to do that to her.” 

“I think she’ll be okay. How about this you drive, and I sit in the back with baby.” 

“It doesn’t feel right.” 

You purse your lips, “it’s going to be a quick ride.” 

He sighs, “fine.” 

Sam and baby are in the car, ready to go in less than five minutes. 

You pull Dean off to the side. "You're a sick man, Dean." 

"What? I’m not-" 

"You are. You were enjoying her being in your lap. Don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Fine, I’ll pretend you’re not a sick sick sick man." 

"It's not like that and you know it." 

"I don't want to hear it." 

“You’re gonna be hearing it because it’s true. If you were in my position, what would you do?” 

You shrug. 

“Exactly.” 

“No, I wouldn’t be in the position you’re in now. Come on, sicko. We’re wasting time.” 

-

Once you’re all good to go, sitting in the back, baby leans into you. 

You look up to see Dean giving you a ‘what’d I tell you?’ look. 

“You’re staying here.” 

“Why?” 

“We don’t know what she wants to do with you so it’s easier for you to stay here.” 

“But I can help you.” 

“No.” 

-

“You need to stop this!” You shout, aiming your gun at her. 

“Why?” The witch asks. 

“It’s not right.” 

“I’m giving everyone a chance to make things right with something they care about. What’s so wrong about that?” 

“Everything. The thing people care about ends up killing them.” 

“That just proves they didn’t truly love it.” 

“That isn’t your decision to make.” 

“It’s too late, your friends will die and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

“Reverse the spell.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Do it!” 

“You think that will stop me.” 

“Can’t hurt to try.” 

She waves her hand, and you go through the nearest wall. Looking up at the ceiling, you gasp, trying to catch your breath. 

Dean and baby run over to you. “Are you okay?” 

“Do I look okay?” He sighs. “Yeah, I’m good. What’re you two doing here? You should be in the car.” 

“I can stop her.” “Great, care to share with the rest of the group.” 

“Do you both trust me?” 

“Kind of hard not to. I mean, you’ve done a lot for us and been through a lot.” 

“Now’s not the time to go on and on about how awesome baby is, Dean.” 

“Right, sorry.”

- 

“They’ve branded you and you want to be their friend?! You want to go back to being a machine?!” 

“They’ve taken care of me better than anyone ever has. I would happily go back to being a car if it meant I got to spend more time with them.” 

“WHY!?” 

“I take care of them, and they take care of me.” Baby looks back to the three of you lying on the ground, covered in blood, hardly having enough energy to move. “It’s what you do for family. Thank you.” She turns back to the witch. 

There’s a blinding white light. 

-

The three of you walk out, holding onto one another. 

“Do you think she’s gone?” 

“I don’t think baby would do that to you, Dean.” 

“There’s no way,” Sam adds. 

“Look!” You point to the familiar impala. 

“She’s back.” 

“We’re back in business, baby.” 

“Really?” Dean gives you a deadpan look. 

“What? Are you jealous you didn’t think of it first?” 

“Shut up.”

[smuttyassholes]

Show off - San

It was his fault, really, so you honestly didn’t understand why he was mad.

He left you alone to go fuck around with his friends. He let some random girl swoon all over him. 

Sure, he didn’t let her touch him but the fact that he entertained her attention was enough to irk you. But fine. Whatever. Why were you gonna let him ruin your night?

You glared towards him as you downed the rest of your drink before making your way towards the dancefloor, your hips swaying as soon as you found a spot.

It didn’t take long for your whole body to follow as you lost yourself in the music. It also didn’t take long before you felt someone watching you.

Thinking it was San finally deciding to pay attention, you up-ed your performance and got more into it. Your hands coming up to run through your hair as you moved it from your face.

You could feel someone walking towards you and when you turned, you were greeted with someone who most definitely wasn’t your boyfriend, but a rather attractive girl who smiled as she made eye contact with you.

No words were exchanged as she put her hands on your waist and you wrapped your hands around her neck, your fingers playing with the stray strands of hair that fell from her ponytail.

While you and the mystery girl got more comfortable, you felt someone watching you again. This time you looked up, meeting the glaring eyes of the same man that had left you alone just an hour ago.

You smirked slightly as you turned in the mystery girl’s arms, your hips moving against hers while you moved her hands to wrap around your waist.

Your eyes stayed locked on San as you continued dancing, almost challenging him to do something.

He stayed still, though. The only difference being his tightened jaw while his leg started bouncing. You took it as a partial win and made your dancing a bit more sensual, trying to get him to do something. It wasn’t long before you got the reaction you wanted and saw him heading straight for you, giving you no time to react as you were being dragged away, towards the exit, and through the parking lot.

“Wh-”

“Shut it.” He cut you off, his grip on you tightening as he pushed you against the car. “What am I gonna do with you? Hmm?” He asked, his breath next to your ear.

“Well what was I supposed to do?” You countered. “I was bored, so I had to have fun somehow.”

“Fun? That’s what you’re calling it?” He scoffed as his hand reached for the bottom of your dress. “I don’t think giving out what’s mine counts as ‘fun’.” He growled as he hand slid under to grope your ass.

“I think,” He said, his fingers moving under your panties and towards your slit. “You wanted attention.” He said, a smirk forming as he felt just how wet you were. “That or you were wanting someone else to take care of you.”

“Maybe I was.” You spoke through a gasp as he ran a finger over your clit. “Someone had to if you weren’t.”

“Are you really in a position to start that right now?” He scoffed. “I can easily walk away.”

It was your turn to scoff.

“Considering you were the one who dragged me out,” You started, reaching for the buttons on his suit. “I don’t think you’ll be walking away.” You licked your lips as you dragged your finger towards his belt, slightly undoing it. “So why don’t you throw me into the backseat and fuck me like we both know you want to.”

He scoffed and pulled away, stepping slightly so he could open the backseat door. You moved to get in but he stopped you, sitting in the edge before you could.

“I could care less if I’m the one who dragged you out.” He started, moving his hands out to grab your hips and pull you onto his lap. “You know well enough that I can control myself for hours,” His hands pushing up the hem of your dress. “And I know well that you get whiny if I tease you long enough.” His eyes locked with yours as he lightly pulled the fabric up, hinting for you to move so he could lift it more. “So you tell me.” He spoke as his hands bunched the fabric at your waist, the cool night air making you shiver. “You can ride me right here, or we can go home and I won’t let you cum for a week. Maybe two.” He shrugged with the latter part.

The tone in his voice made you shiver again. It wasn’t like you two were shy when it came to public sex, but with the current situation you knew he wouldn’t go easy on you. You looked towards the doors of the club and bit your lip. It wasn’t like you’d be easy to see, anyways.

Without words, you undid the button to his pants and slid his zipper down. He took it into his own hands to pull himself out of his boxers and you felt your face flush knowing what he was trying to get at.

With your dress bunched up and you already on his lap, you lifted yourself up and placed him underneath you. You slowly lowered yourself onto his tip, a shaky breath coming out as you tried to keep quiet.

His hands dropped the fabric and rested on your hips. You were going to look up at him, thinking he’d gone soft for a moment, but all thoughts left your head as he forced you to take all of him. Your mouth fell open as your head fell against him, praying that the noise that left you was quieter than you thought.

“Since you wanted to show off, I thought I’d do the same.” He whispered, kissing the top of your hair. “Now get up and ride it before I make this more obvious.”

You screwed your eyes shut as you felt yourself clench around him, hoping he wasn’t going to say anything. You didn’t try to pull yourself up but started moving your hips instead only for him to stop you.

“No, no.” He said, one of his hands coming up to grab your hair and pull you back so you’d look at him. “You can do better.” He cooed. “I want the same treatment your little friend in there got.” His eyes glared as he cocked his head towards the door.

You picked your head up and looked at him with soft eyes, hoping for just a smidge of leniency that you knew deep down you weren’t going to get. It wasn’t helping that you were still trying to adjust to his size.

“What, baby?” He feigned concern. “Did you want me to help you?”

You nodded your head slowly, still maintaining eye contact. His hand left your hair and returned to your hip, wasting no time in lifting them so he could move you. Everything was happening too fast and you were already starting to forget about where you were.

"My stupid, little baby," He grunted as he settled on a doable pace. He wouldn't admit it, but with the day he's had, he wasn't sure if he could hold himself back. "You still haven't learned that being a brat gets you nowhere."

You thought about saying how it was his fault, but a sudden hand on your throat had that thought fading away, a small gasp coming out in its place.

“Not gonna say anything?” He smirked. “Is it because you can’t or because you know whatever you say would make it worse?”

You were grateful he’d cut you off because you’re sure your voice would’ve been a dead giveaway to the actions going on. You nodded your head and started meeting his thrusts, your own need to cum taking over your movements.

He took the hint and sped up, his hands going back to your hips to make sure you took all of him with every thrusts.

With no hand to shut you up, you felt your face flush as you weren’t so quiet anymore, the heat getting more intense as you felt the wet fabric of his pants every time his hips met you.

“Fuck,” You whimpered out as your head fell onto his shoulder, your stomach tightening at the thought of him walking around with the stained pants had your head spinning. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to let whoever asked know exactly what happened.

“San, I can’t, please.” The words came out before you had a chance to think and you were met with a look of amusement.

“That wasn’t a part of the deal.” He reminded you, his movements slowing down until you were sat on his lap.

“I just don’t think I can keep quiet any longer.” You spoke through closed eyes, scared he would see the lie. “I just want to cum without having to hold back.”

“And why should I care about what you want?” He countered, giving you a slow trust for emphasis. “Especially when you were so disobedient earlier.”

You couldn’t find the answer to his question, only letting out small whimpers as he kept the taunting pace. 

“Can you really not handle it, baby?” He raised a brow, his hands wrapping around the small of your back, not waiting for your response before continuing. “If that’s the case, maybe I could let you off easy.” He licked his lips. “And you’d be thankful if I did, right?”  

You nodded helplessly, hoping this wasn’t another punishment of his. 

“I’ll fuck you stupid once we’re home, all you have to do is suck me off right here.” He whispered, the tone making you clench again and he chuckled. “Can you do that for me, princess?”

You let out a shaky ‘yes’ and slowly removed yourself from his lap, a small whine coming out as the empty feeling took over. You got up, leaning down so you weren’t showing through the window. You looked behind you, wondering if the door would cover you. 

“C’mon, princess.” He reassured. “If you make it quick, you won’t have to worry about getting caught.” He motioned you over with his finger.

You hesitated before finally settling on the thought that the car door would be enough to cover you. You bent over, taking him into your mouth and working your way down, gagging slightly when he reached the back of your throat. 

Fearing you’d make anymore noise, you looked up at him in hopes he would take control, which he gladly did. His hair wrapped itself in your hair, holding you still while he worked his hips into you. 

“God, your mouth always feels so good.” He groaned out as his head fell back. “And your ass always looks so good sticking out like that.” He rasped. “I’m sure it would be even better if someone else was fucking you while you sucked me off, what do you think?” 

You whined at the thought, letting San know you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. He chuckled and held you down while he settled in your throat for a few seconds.

“Good to know.” He groaned as he pulled you off, watching you gasp as tears welled in your eyes. “I’m just not sure I could let someone else see you like this.” He tsked, pushing you back down, but only keeping you at his tip. “But seeing your face right here while someone else fucks you,” He paused, slowly pushing you back down. 

“I think that’s something I need to see.”

- asshole 4

[stylesberries]

Daddy

Summary: Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?

Word Count: 2.0k

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

Genre(s): filthy smut

Warning(s): sub!harry, a little degrading, daddy kink (a little different from the usual one)

“Harry, you’ve got it. You’ve got nothing to worry about, my love.” You spoke softly looking at Harry’s anxious expression through FaceTime.

“I know, baby. I just can’t help it, you know?” He let his eyes fall to the side of the room.

“Harry, you worked your ass off for this album, every song is so special. You don’t need an award to prove it, but please know that you deserve all of them.” You tried to soothe his worries and stress in the best way you could being so far away from him.

“Now go, honey. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Go get some rest, okay?”

Knowing Harry, he would never hang up first because of how much he wanted to keep talking to you. You took it upon yourself to be the one to do so as the responsible one in the relationship.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’ll call you tomorrow before we start, okay?” He smiled softly, looking at you as if you hung the moon.

You looked at him apologetically.

“Baby, I have an exam tomorrow at that time don't you remember?” You spoke to Harry, smiling at him gently.

Your words seemingly made Harry upset. However, he tries his best not to show his obvious disappointment.

“Oh. Yes, I remember.”

•

“Harry, right here,” Jeff spoke, leading Harry to their table after Harry’s performance.

“Ah, yes okay.”

Harry followed right behind Jeff, his mind far from the said table.

Anxiety and worry filled his thoughts and he felt little to no relief as he didn’t get to speak to one person who could soothe his overflowing brain activity.

You’ve got nothing to worry about, my love.

“I’m okay. I’ve got nothing to worry about. We will talk after she’s done with her exam.” Harry spoke under his breath.

He sat down at the table next to Jeff after greeting everyone and waited for the announcements of nominations and winners in each of them.

Throughout the nominations, Harry kept checking the time to see if he would be able to get a text from you at least. However, no matter how much time passed he saw no notification from the person he most wanted to see them from.

“And the Grammy goes to,” the announcer paused as Harry struggled to get his thoughts together.

“Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles!”

Snap out of it. Snap out of it. Snap out of it.

Harry kept looking at his lap, struggling to comprehend what’s happening around him.

He turned to Jeff with disbelief written across his face, the thought that kept swirling in his mind being:

“I wish I could hug her right now.”

•

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.

“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.

Harry stood dumbfounded by both Jeff’s words and his sudden departure.

“Well,” He thought as he shrugged and turned to walk towards his house. Keys kept jingling as he turned them to unlock his door.

Walking into the dark hall Harry turned back to lock the door behind himself and take his shoes off to walk through the house towards his room.

As he reached the door to open it he saw a small light in the dark of the room.

Completely confused now, he saw a lit candle on the floor in the middle of the room.

His first thought was to walk to it and blow it out, forgetting to turn the lights on, too busy thinking about the mysterious candle in the middle of the room.

Bowing down to the candle, Harry took it in his hand and blew it out.

The moment after he felt darkness overwhelm him as a wet tongue pressed itself against his neck.

Horror wrapped itself around the man’s frame before being replaced with comfort as he felt a familiar scent enter his nostrils.

“Y/N,” Harry called out for you in the dark, with a need to be enveloped in you.

“Mhm? How’s my Grammy winner doing?”

“I missed you so much,” Harry spoke to you as he tried to get up and turn to hug you.

“Ah-ah, Harry. I still have some business with you here.” You spoke as you wrapped a blindfold over Harry’s eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Fuck. You’ve got something for me?” Harry asked bowing back down with his back turned to you.

You wrapped your hand around the front of Harry’s neck squeezing a little to earn a light groan from him.

“Maybe I do.” You spoke, feeling him squirm as his body was now pressed against your chest.

“Oh, baby. Look at my good boy! Why are you squirming so much?” You kept teasing Harry as your hand tightened its hold around his neck, blocking the air from entering his lungs.

“Ah,” was the only sound Harry managed to push out of his chest as he felt his head lighten.

Your other hand wandered down to his chest. Harry was still fully dressed in his suit but you didn’t mind it. Your hand fell upon the growing bulge covered by the fabric of his trousers.

“Mhm!” Harry whined loudly as he felt your touch, not being able to see anything only made him more sensitive to every little touch of yours.

“What does my boy want?” You ask Harry, moving your hand up and down his boner.

Harry kept whining as he expected you to take action already. However, you had other plans.

“Come on, Harry. Be a good boy and tell me what you want me to do to you. It’s your day so I won’t be too strict. Just tell me what you want me to do.” You spoke right into his ear, hearing a faint moan leave their home between his lips.

“I-,” Harry tried to speak, only to have his dick squeezed to a point where he couldn’t say anything aside from gasping like a little bitch.

“Yes? What was it?” You asked him, releasing the tight hold you had around his dick.

Gasping for air, as he was still being choked by your other hand, he tried to speak again.

“Please,” Harry started, not feeling you squeeze him this time.

“Good start, baby. Continue.” You spoke sternly as you waited for the man in front of you to finally push out the words you’ve been waiting for.

“Please touch my dick, daddy,” Harry whispered the last part, almost to himself.

Your hand stopped moving, as the other one loosened around his neck.

“What did you say?” You asked, taken aback at the word he called you.

Harry froze, his eyes closing under his blindfold.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” He spoke fast, wishing he didn’t say anything in the first place.

“What did you call me.”

At this point, it wasn’t really a question. You wanted him to repeat himself.

“Daddy.” Harry caught on pretty quickly, knowing exactly how your voice changed when you were getting more and more turned on.

“Hm. Daddy, huh? If only all the people who watched you perform today knew how much of a filthy slut you are.” You finally pulled his dick out of his pants and pushed your other hand’s fingers into his mouth.

“Ah- daddy please,” Harry muffled around your fingers, swirling his tongue as he spoke.

You stroked him fast right from the start, only stopping to pull your hand to your face and leaning over his shoulder to spit onto your open palm and go back to stroking him.

“Fast,” Harry whined as you didn’t slow down, making his head swirl.

“I’m not slowing down. Filthy whores don’t get to choose when they cum. You cum when I tell you to.” You spoke into Harry’s ear, your lips against his skin.

Whines kept getting louder and louder as you kept stroking faster and faster, watching as the man in front of you fell apart against your chest. His breathing became sharper and his hips started following your hand’s movements. Normally you would’ve punished him for not staying still, but today was a special day, so you would let it slide.

“Harry?” You asked, as your hand moved faster, if that was even possible at this point.

He didn’t have any strength in him to answer you as his moans were the only sounds he could make now.

“I will count till three and you will cum for me.” You spoke, your words full of domination.

“But-”

“Three.” You ignored his desperate want to postpone his orgasm, as he was still on the way to reach his high.

Harry whined, desperately trying to concentrate on the feeling of you stroking him to try to cum to your count down. The sensation was so overwhelming that he felt ringing in his ears and spit running down his chin around your fingers.

“Two.”

His writhing quickened as he was trying to catch up with you, who was obviously not giving him any time whatsoever. Your hand did not give him a single moment to rest and showed no mercy to his sensitive dick and its almost-red tip. Precum was being smeared all over his tip, mixing with your spit as his tears were mixing with his spit.

It was so much but almost not enough. He wanted more. He wanted to cum all over your hand as he was desperately trying to for twelve minutes already, his oversensitivity standing in the way.

“One. Now.” You spoke into his ear, your words wrapped in authority.

A forced orgasm flushed over Harry’s whole being as his eyes rolled back before closing and his breathing became heavier. It felt as if he was washed over by a big wave that showed no mercy to his weak body, pushing him under its waters, as if wrapping him in a warm duvet. His hearing only allowed faint noises to reach his brain, and even those were heavily muffled by the ringing in his ears.

“Harry?”

A faint voice finally reached him after the third try. Immediately after he felt the blindfold being tugged off of his eyes and light moonlight entering his vision.

“Is everything okay?”

She spoke with such gentleness and love, genuinely worried for him being in this state of stun. However, the authority was still present in her voice.

You had already pulled your fingers out of his mouth at this point, your other hand living his tortured cock as well. Pressing your lips against the crook of his neck, you kept looking over his shoulder to watch his eyes start to open, his breathing going back to normal.

“Are you feeling good, baby?” You spoke once again, knowing well he didn’t hear you last time.

“Mhmm. So nice, daddy.”

The little shit enjoyed riling you up just as much as you enjoyed taking the result of his riling up out on him. A knowing smirk fell upon Harry’s face as he waited for you to give his hair a painful tug he always enjoyed.

He wondered what other pleasures you would bestow upon him on this special day.

“I hope you understand that the only reason I’m taking it easy on you today is the fact that it’s an important day for you, okay?”

“That’s one more reason why you shouldn’t take it easy, daddy.”

Pushing your buttons was his favorite thing to do because he knew what followed right after.

“On all fours.”

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[sinner-as-saint]

I’ll Be Your Baby.

Sugar Daddy!Steve x Reader AU

Requested by my boo @fafulous​ 

Run-through: It was supposed to be a purely transactional relationship. But then it transforms into something so much more because you and Steve fall for one another at the perfect time.

Themes: fluff, smut, sugar daddy!steve

Mkay, but sugar daddy!Steve would be such a perfect man.

He’d be broody and mysterious at work; a successful business man who played with his billions all day every day. But then to you, he’d be so good, and sweet and gentle. Demanding cuddles whenever he felt like it, and stealing kisses anytime he wanted.

Cuddles with sugar daddy!Steve? He’d be clingy. Like really clingy. He’d often cuddle you in bed, holding onto you like a baby koala bear to a tree. Pushing his face either into the crook of your neck, or shamelessly in between your breasts. Caging you in his arms protectively, he’d be the complete opposite of the business mogul he often is while at work, when cuddling he’d turn into a big baby. 

In the beginning of your relationship, he was less so. But then as you grew closer, you concluded that the man was just one big baby who needed attention almost just as much as you did.

Within the first few months, Steve stole your heart. Completely. You fell for how confident, and classy he was. How he could step into a room and own it. 

But also how gentle he was, always putting your comfort and consent first no matter what. 

You still remember the first time you and him slept together. He was such a gentleman that you were the one who had to initiate it. Dressed in a  risqué nightgown, you made your way to his study that one night you stayed over at his place. Steve was sat in his study room, working - as always - and you went over and made yourself comfortable on his lap. 

“Hi baby. Can’t sleep?” he leaned back in his seat, making more room for you on his lap, wrapping his arms protectively around you. 

You shook your head at his question. 

He smirked. “Want anything?” 

You answered. “Yeah, you.” and then leaned in for a kiss. Which then ended up with the two of you fucking right there on his couch until the early hours of the morning. 

He was loud during sex; moaning, and growling, and grunting as he pushes into you. “Fuck... you have no idea how hard it’s been to hold back from touching you.” 

His thrusts were relentless. His mouth pressed against yours and he nibbled on your bottom lip occasionally as you gasped, and moaned. He was taking over all your senses and you were more than happy to let him while he fucked you raw

The pleasure was overwhelming; the feeling of his warm body pressing into yours and the feeling of his cock ramming in and out of you, stretching you out deliciously until you came undone all around his cock

He held you after that, all night long. And you slept soundly, in his arms, safe and warm.  

You’d often spend the night over at his place, as your relationship progressed, and you’d always wake up in his arms, or with his lips soft against your body; peppering your skin with kisses.

“You’re suffocating me,” you’d often playfully whine as he holds you tight against his body and kisses your endlessly, making you giggle uncontrollably.

He’d hum in satisfaction. “With love, yes.”

You secretly liked how he was able to switch from businessman to your gentle sugar daddy in the matter of seconds right upon seeing you. You’d drop by his work often, and you’d catch him barking orders to his people on his phone, but then minute you’d walk into his office, he’d drop everything and open his arms for you to walk in.

He’d be the best hugger as well, holding you tight in his strong, muscular arms. He liked how you’d innocently press your cheek right over his heart and sigh in content. “I missed you.” you’d say and look up at him to and stare into his deep, ocean blue eyes. You liked this; being engulfed in his arms, surrounded by his body heat and his scent. Him, all around you.

“I missed you too, babygirl.”

Okay but sugar daddy!steve would also LOVE to get down and dirty – whenever the hell he wants to

Be it kissing you senselessly, regardless of who’s around

Or having you on his lap in the back of his car, or on his private plane, or on his luxurious yacht

Making you sit on his cock, until you’re literally trembling with need and teary eyed, begging him to just fuck you already. 

“Please... please, I need you...” you whined, at the back of the limo as he carelessly scrolled through his phone, with you keeping his cock warm. 

“Hmm? Ask nicely, come on,” he’d whisper without even sparing you a glance. 

You’d whine again and beg him desperately. “Please daddy, I’ll be good to you. I promise.” You’d even throw a pout in there. 

And he’d melt immediately, kissing you on the forehead. “I know baby, I know.” His lips would trail down your neck. “Ride me.” 

Steve loved you. Your humor, your elegance, your intelligence and how you always managed to make his days better. 

He liked how you looked at him like he hung the moon

He’d tease you about it sometimes, “Oh, I know that look. What do you want, baby?” 

You’d smirk, but won’t say anything. And then he’d grab your hand and pull you over his lap, and once you sat comfortably, straddling his thighs he’d ask again, “Tell daddy what you want, and it’s yours.” he’d whisper in that low, deep voice. 

You’d play along. “Hmm, can you afford it though?” 

Steve would chuckle darkly and slide his hand through your hair, grab a bunch and tug on it gently, tilting your head back just a little and stare deep into your eyes, “Look who you’re talking to, babygirl. Now tell me.” 

You’d smile and give in, “I want you. Forever.” 

He’d smile back, “You got it. Would you be my baby forever?” 

You leaned in for a kiss. Then whispered against his lips, “I will.” 

[thera-daydreams]

KABILANG BUHAY

× A TRESE ONESHOT ×

[Crispin x Ghost!Reader]

📝 Summary: Your demigod husband remembers you—everything about you—and how much he absolutely loved you. He remembers everything, including the memory that hurt the most.

📌 Warning: Contains fluff, angst, character death, and mentions of violence (because an angry Crispin being the son of a wargod is bound to shed some blood somewhere). Masakit po talaga 'tong songfic na 'to, trust me. If you don't want to get hurt, scroll awaaaay. Pero if you want maximum 1000% ultra heavy pain, then listen to the song below on repeat while reading, too.

Song: Kabilang Buhay by Bandang Lapis

(word count: 5,642)

"Masasayang mga araw na kasama kita."

Warm. Crispin always remembered you to be so warm—every single part of you. The heat of your skin against his whenever he held you, that whimsical sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw the little joys in life, that sprightly curve of your lips whenever you two teased each other, and the radiance he saw from you whenever you were around the people you loved.

In his eyes, there was always a halo around your head or a beam of light following you around. Perhaps he was biased; perhaps he saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it didn't matter to him. To the demigod, you were everything he ever wanted.

You were the one.

You were also one of the sweetest people he'd ever met. Every morning without a fail, there would always be a hot cup of kape and a plate of pandesal on the table—not only for him, but for everyone else in your little family, too. Alexandra, Hank, and of course, his younger brother Basilio. Even before you became his girlfriend, you'd treated them as your own loved ones.

That was the day he knew you were truly the one for him. The one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to build a home with. The woman he wanted to marry and have children with, if you were okay with it (when that conversation came, you said you would be happy and honored to be his wife).

Crispin said it was the other way around. It was he who was fortunate and honored to be your husband. You'd laughed in response, kissing his cheek. There were no fancy rings or a formal, elaborate proposal involved, but that day—he remembered clearly that you had that conversation on a chilly December 1st, 9:24PM, right before you two went to bed—was an unspoken promise.

You two would be inseparable and together 'til death do you part.

Going back to that coffee and bread, he always wondered how you managed to keep it so fresh (you said it was a secret, but later on you spilled the beans to him after him pestering you). Even if he woke up at noon because of missions with his bossing and his brother, palaging mainit ang kape at pandesal. You must have had some sort of superpower you weren't telling him (you rolled your eyes, telling him that superpower came in the form of a microwave).

"Paglalambing at kulit mo na hindi nakakasawa."

He was by no means clingy or touch-starved, but whenever he was around you, he had the need to at least hold you in any way. Sometimes, it was the usual PDA (Basilio and Maliksi teased him about it, but he didn't care if it meant having some sort of contact with you; Alexandra just let it be because she knew how much you two loved each other). In public, you guys toned it down—settling with holding hands or you just linking your arm through his. If he was driving the car, his hand would either be innocently resting on your thigh or your hand which was on your lap. If you were the one driving the car, then it would be your hand on his thigh or his hand. He loved to draw circles on your skin whenever he was daydreaming or starting to doze off, too.

You as a couple often expressed your love for each other in different ways, and not just by saying it out loud. One thing Crispin adored the most about your relationship was the way you voicelessly said "I love you". If it wasn't clear enough that acts of service was one of your love languages, then he could understand that you loved him back through three taps.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

At first, he had no clue what it meant. You just kept doing it whenever you were near him, on whatever body part you could touch. If he was driving? Tap, tap, tap on his thigh. If he was the one cooking? You'd hug him from behind and then one of your fingers would go tap, tap, tap on his waist. If you were eating together? You'd take his palm then just... tap, tap, tap while chewing on whatever food it was you had in your mouth.

He recalled that afternoon you guys were eating at a simple Japanese place. While you slurped up some of the wheat noodles and the savory soup, you were excitedly doing a little happy dance as you ate—the one you did whenever you ate something you found yummy. Frankly, Crispin found it endearing. He, too, was guzzling down some of the ramen when you reached out for his hand then laid it on the table palm up.

With a mischievous smile and your puffed up cheeks looking like a chipmunk from the noodles you'd gobbled up, you gently tapped his palm with your index finger, that same glint in your eye whenever you did that gesture.

"... Anong ginagawa mo, mahal?" Crispin chuckled, a brow raised. He found it cute but he had no idea what it was supposed to stand for.

"Wala lang," you mysteriously answered in a muffled voice, swallowing.

"You know, you shouldn't talk when your mouth is full," he pointed out, amused. You snorted, gulping.

"Not my fault you asked a question, Crispin," you retorted, shoving in another bite of noodley goodness with your chopsticks. You did a mini-wiggle when the umami flavor exploded on your tongue (the ramen was bussin', bestie). Ratatouille would be impressed!

"But seriously, what does the tap stand for?" your boyfriend wondered. You did it again. Tap, tap, tap.

"Isn't it obvious?" you smiled. He then sweat-dropped.

"Wait, keep smiling," Crispin leaned over the table, removing a tiny bit of the dahon sibuyas stuck on one of your front teeth with his nail. He then popped that finger into his mouth, making you blink at the action.

"Ay, may naiwan pala. Hehehehehe." With how long you two have been dating, you were no longer embarrassed if you did get anything stuck in your teeth and he had to get it out (it's happened in more occasions than you could count). You did the same to him (and trust me, you were way past the stage of getting grossed out from the gross habits couples did). At least you two were a hundred percent comfortable and open to one another, right? Sanaol.

Crispin nodded, going back to eating his noodles, "Okay, back to the topic. What does this—" He tapped your palm the same way you did. "—even mean?"

Your grin just grew wider then you whispered into his ear, "I love you."

"... I love you, too," he answered automatically, still not understanding. "But what do the taps mean? You keep doing it and—"

You did it again on his hand.

"I." Tap.

"Love." Tap.

"You." Tap.

At long last, that look of realization came upon his features, "... Aaaaaaaaah."

You chuckled, all brightness and merriness from your revelation to the man you loved. "Gets mo na, mahal?"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Oo, mahal. Hehe."

"... Can we order another bowl of ramen? Please?" With those puppy-dog eyes? Crispin could never resist. He'd rip the world apart for you and build it back up from scratch if you wanted him to.

That was how deep his love was for you. Kapag nagmamahal ang isang diyos, walang imposible... 'di ba?

He was already raising a hand to call for a waiter, "Sure. Basta maubos mo."

"... And if half lang maubos ko?"

He sighed, "... Edi ako kakain sa anong maiiwan." What was the saying whenever you found your soulmate? Oh, yes.

True love is getting fat together.

Maybe it was true for both of you.

When you two exited the ramen place, you patted your bloated tummy. "Haaaay, busog na busog si food baby," you sighed in happiness, adjusting the the top of your high-waisted skirt to loosen it up for more space. You elbowed him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows at him and mimicking Kylie Jenner, "Soooo, I'm thirty-four weeks today."

"'Luh, ang drama mo," Crispin snickered, poking your rounded side playfully and making you pout. "Nagdadalang tao ka pala, ha. Ako ang tatay pero hindi mo sinabi sa akin na buntis ka." He wouldn't lie, but thoughts of you being pregnant with a child warmed his entire being. Mini-yous and mini-hims running around.

What a dream.

"Nagdadalang tae lang po, manong," you stuck your tongue out at him, then stopped. He stopped walking, too, looking at you questioningly.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mahal?" you paused. Gulugulugulugulu. Oh no. Mayday, mayday!

"Did you forget something at the restaurant?" he asked. You shook your head in response, telling him there was an emergency.

"... Mahal, natatae ako."

"Like, now?" You nodded at him with wide, doe-like irises. His eyes crinkled, finding the situation hilarious. "Really? Oh shit. Literally. Is this because we were talking about poop?"

Crispin could only cackle as you rummaged through your bag for some wet wipes (and the situation led to you two running around the mall like psychos looking for the nearest restroom—grabe ang cold sweat mo, sis; it was that type of pooping session).

As he waited outside the women's comfort room, he found himself smiling like a weirdo from your date today. Nagdadalang tae o nagdadalang tao, he wouldn't love you any other way.

"Punong-puno ng ligaya ang ating pagsasama."

He found himself unconsciously doing the tapping to you, as well. Tap. Tap. Tap. He only now realized how many times you've been saying "I love you" everyday. Usually, you'd only verbally say it out loud three times: in the morning waking up, whenever he left for a mission, or the times you went to sleep together (because of the nature of his work, it was uncommon, but if he was at home during the night, he'd make sure to say it to you). But now that he knew what the taps meant, he counted them for one week from Monday to Sunday.

You were sitting on the couch, on your stomach and sprawled vertically over his lap. He was watching a basketball game on television while you were on your phone, scrolling through Facebook. It was all quiet until he tapped his finger thrice on your calf. You beamed, rolling over to face him then gently tapping his cheek three times—not with your fingers, but with your hands, smooshing his cheeks then pecking his lips.

"Fwifee-hweif," he said. You tilted your head at him, letting go of his cheeks.

"What was that?" you curiously inquired.

"Fifty-eight," Crispin gave you his signature flirty grin. "You tapped me one hundred seventy-four times today. And one hundred seventy-four divided by three—because I love you has three syllables—is equal to fifty-eight." His affectionate gaze to you softened. "Mahal, you've told me I love you fifty-eight times today."

You just hugged him and hid your face in his neck, "I love you, too, manooooong."

"... Wanna watch a K-drama tonight?" he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as you laid your head on it.

"Mmhmm."

You guys ended up binging Scarlet Heart Ryeo and bawling your eyes out (Crispin cried louder than you, actually, and the box of tissues was passed back n' forth between you two).

"Punyeta, walang Season Two?" Crispin cursed, blowing his nose.

You hiccupped, shaking your head and scrolling through the categories, "W-Wala e-eh, m-mahal."

"Seryoso ka ba?" he gaped, wiping his tears after wiping yours. "That's how it ends?"

You nodded, sniffling, "Uh-huh."

The next morning, when all of you gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Alexandra and the others could only stare, nagtataka kung bakit namamaga ang mga mata niyo (yeah, they were swollen as hell).

"... Anyare sa inyo?" Alexandra quizzed. Hank, while pouring everyone some juice, had a worried look on his face, too.

"Nag-away ba kayong dalawa, Kuya?" Basilio questioned. You both shook your head simultaneously.

"Hindi," Crispin shortly answered, exhausted from crying with you all night.

"Nanood lang kami ng K-drama," you supplied, as worn out as your boyfriend was.

"Aaaaaaah."

"Na parang wala nang sisira ng lahat."

The date always held some significance to him, not only because it meant only a few days before Christmas but also because it was the day you promised to one another that you'd be endgame.

December 1st.

It would repeat in his head over and over again until the day he died.

The two of you were lying in bed, the cold night air entering through the open windows. You were leaning on his chest in-between his lap, reading The Count of Monte Cristo. He noticed that your expression often shifted between being giddy to being angry or smug at what was happening to the main character.

"... Mahal?"

"Yeah?" you responded, not taking your eyes off the novel. You flipped another page.

"What kind of ring do you want? Para alam ko kung magkano ang iiponin ko?" he quietly asked, his thumb caressing your temple. Normally, men wanted this to be a surprise or didn't talk about this but he only wanted you to have something you'd cherish for the rest of your life. You tilted your head back to look up at him. "Do you want those with the big gems or the smaller and simpler ones?"

You gazed back at your novel, then sat up and closed it, turning to look at him. "Crispin." You took his hands in your own (he tapped it thrice, making a teeny smile creep up your lips). "Hindi ko kailangan ng singsing."

His eyes grew wide, "... Are you sure? You don't want to be formally married?"

You frantically shook your head, "Nooooooo, noooo! That's not what I meant, dummy. I just wanted to tell you that I don't need an expensive ring to be yours." You kissed him. "And to be your wife."

"Pero—"

"Mahal, if we ever do have kids, mahal ang gatas, diaper, at tuition," you childishly told him. "Kung magpapakasal tayo, I don't need a huge proposal or a big wedding. Let's put the funds away for a house and for the future, 'mkay?"

"... But you won't have a ring," he sulked.

Getting an idea, you hopped off the bed and open your cabinet, finding a piece of durable string on one of your shirts. With a strong tug, it came off. You walked back towards your boyfriend, flopping back down then looping it on your left ring finger. You held your hand up to him, "There. I have a ring now, see?"

Crispin had never ever loved anyone as much as he did right now. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, though. "... I feel like I've seen this in a movie before, mahal."

"Duuuuh. I got the idea from the Count of Monte Cristo. Mercedes promises herself to Dantes with a string ring! Sorry nalang if copyright infringement ang ginawa ko, hihi." You showed him the book you were reading, the smile not disappearing from your face. Feeling ecstatic, he kissed you passionately right on the spot.

"Ipapangako mo sa akin na magsasama tayo nang walang hanggan?" Crispin whispered against your lips. "Magpakailanman?"

You kissed him, rolling your eyes, "Oo na, Crispin. Corny mo talaga, manong. Such a hopeless romantic, like me!" Another kiss. "I'll stay with you forever and ever and eveeeeeer and grow old with you. We'll get that rest house in the mountains, travel the world together, win the lotto, and do anything we want!" you declared determinedly.

"Promise? Talaga?"

You grinned, wriggling your little finger, "Pinky promise."

He linked his pinky with yours, "Okay. Pinky promise, wifey."

"Okaaaaay, hubby," you quipped, settling down and snuggling into him.

9:24PM, he saw the digital clock display before he pulled the covers over you both, keeping you warm and safe in his arms.

"Bakit pa dumating ang oras na ito?"

"Mahaaaaal, pauwi na ako. Huwag kang mag-alala," you quietly told Crispin over the phone. He was on another investigation, but while their bossing was speaking to Captain Guerrero and Lieutenant Tapia about the case, he used the spare time he had to check up on you.

You had been buying groceries, but knowing you, Crispin had a feeling you had gone to do some other errands.

"Pauwi ka na? Meaning, you're driving home?" He sighed, "And why are you whispering?"

"... Ehehehe," you nervously giggled.

"Anong ehehehehe?" the demigod asked you, suspicious. "Mahal, saan ka na ba talaga?"

"Nasa banko pa ako. Oopsies," you admitted shamelessly. "But I just finished paying the bills. I'm actually walking away from the counter now and—"

You suddenly stopped talking. For a second, the son of the wargod thought that the signal had gone bad.

"Mahal?"

Your voice had gone distant, but it seemed like it was talking to someone else. He strained to hear what you were saying.

"Hey, hey... shhhh, little one, huwag kang umiyak," he heard you say. Your voice seemed so far away. You seemed like you were trying to shush a person. A kid.

"I want my mom!" a child wailed.

"... Langga, come here. At huwag kang masyadong maingay." If it weren't for his heritage as a god, he would have barely been able to hear what you said.

Were you comforting a kid? Awww. He was about to just end the call then text you instead when another much louder and crueler voice could be heard over the phone. No, there wasn't only one voice. There were more.

"Mamatay kayong lahat! Balang araw, hindi na mga tao ang mamumuno sa mundong ito!"

Then there was a sound that was unmistakably a gunshot.

"Nabalitaan ko na wala ka na."

Bang!

His blood went cold. Almost every day he handled firearms in his line of work, so of course he knew what it sounded like. The shrieks and terrified shouts came after the gunshots.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The last thing he heard were more gunshots, then the call ending.

He had never sprinted to Alexandra so fast before, frantically begging her to let him use the Dragon's Gate to teleport to wherever you were, even if it made him physically sick and nauseous.

Crispin didn't give a damn what happened to him, as long as nothing happened to you.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo hindi mo ko iiwan?"

It all happened so fast. One moment he was silently praying to Bathala for your safety while looking for you in the chaos. The next? He was scouring through the overwhelmed emergency room of the nearest hospital, where it was flooded with victims from the mall shooting.

It was a mess, with bleeding patients on the floor as nurses tried to assist. Others were seated on monobloc chairs that had been quickly put on the corridors. There was an overwhelming number of patients taken to the hospital either through ambulances or police cars themselves. It already began to stink of death, and Crispin hated it. His bloodlust as a wargod was creeping up his veins from the stench and his inner fury, but he held it in. He needed to find you first.

Behind him, Alexandra and Basilio were searching for you, too. When he told them what happened, they didn't hesitate to help and be transported to the mall as quick as possible. Captain Guerrero had already dispatched units after hearing what occurred (there was also an alarm that had blared in the station—a bank employee must have pressed an emergency button or something).

Surprisingly, in the midst of the havoc happening inside the hospital, he found himself walking towards the Trauma Bay of the hospital like a magnet. He had no idea where he was going, but he just kept going, and he stopped by a less crowded hallway. If he just went straight forward, he would be entering an operating room.

"Excuse me, coming through! Make some way!" It was a doctor who yelled from behind him. He turned around.

"Hindi papabayaan na ako'y mag-isa."

And as if time went by slower, he found you on a stretcher, being wheeled through the corridor as a nurse was on the bed with you, performing CPR. He saw the amount of blood gushing out of the bullet wounds on your body; one on your back, another on your stomach, and a third on your thigh.

Crispin couldn't help but run after them, asking one of the health professionals what was happening to you, "Nurse! Nurse, is she going to be okay!?"

"Are you her family?" they quickly interrogated. Alexandra and Basilio rounded the corner right as the nurse asked him that. Both held their breaths when they saw the tormenting state you were in, unconscious and on the brink of death.

The eldest demigod frenziedly nodded, "Yes, yes! I'm family!" He glanced at your bleeding form, and his heart clenched seeing the string ring on your finger, a bit of blood splattered over it. "I'm... I'm her husband! Asawa ko siya!"

You weren't formally or legally married yet, but to his eyes (and many of the others who knew you both), you were practically husband and wife.

"Good," the nurse said as they rushed you into the O.R., stopping Crispin from entering any further. "Sir, we need you to tell us your wife's name and her health details, please. She has to be operated on as soon as possible. We need her age, blood type, her comorbidities or allergies, if any..."

Crispin knew them all. He'd memorized them. And he told the nurses everything they needed for the operation. As long as it saved you, he'd say anything. Do anything.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo sabay tayong tatanda?"

It was a grueling operation, he could tell. Crispin had been pacing continuously in the waiting room, not even daring to sit from how anxious he was about you. Hank had come instantly to the hospital after hearing, and now there were three seated and extremely worried people watching him panic outside the operating room.

"God, please let her be okay," he continued to mumble to himself, fiddling with his fingers. "Please, please, please..."

"Kuya, umupo ka muna," Basilio tried to convince his brother.

"Oo nga," Hank frowned.

"You've been standing for five hours," Alexandra gave him a saddened look. "You should rest."

The older demigod shook his head, "I can't, bossing. Hindi pwede. Not until I know that she's okay."

As if on cue, the head surgeon came out of the operating room. Crispin nearly jolted and would have grabbed the man's collar had it not been for Alex and his brother holding him back, calming him down. No one could tell what he was about to say until he removed his surgical mask.

The four occupants waited for his response, antsy. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Doc? Is she okay? Is she gonna be alright?" Crispin asked, troubled out of his mind. Alex's grip on his arm tightened, and so did Basilio's hold on his shoulder. "Doc, please say somethi—"

"... I'm sorry," the surgeon shook his head, a somber look on his face.

It was like the universe stopped for the demigod. The two people holding him were the only ones to support him when his knees buckled.

"We did everything we could. She lost too much blood, and the bullets hit too many vital organs," the doctor explained forlornly. "We performed CPR and a cardiac massage on her for thirty minutes, but she did not make it through the rest of the operation."

The words just echoed emptily through Crispin's ears.

"Bakit bigla ka na lang nandiyan sa kabilang buhay?"

When he entered the morgue alone, he didn't know why but he was expecting you to be sitting up and smiling, almost hearing your teasing voice telling him it was all a cruel prank. At first, that was what he saw. He saw the love of his life, soft skin flushed and curled up lips filled with so much love directed at him. He saw you radiant—glowing; that familiar twinkle in your magnificent eyes. He reached out to hold your left hand, awaiting its warmth.

Awaiting the three taps.

The taps that would tell him "I love you" and "I'm okay".

Crispin even waited a minute. Maybe you were still there, hanging on. Maybe... just maybe... you were fighting.

"Mahal?" he croaked out, squeezing your hand.

"Paano na ang lahat? Paano na ako, tayo?"

Those three taps never came. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Only then did he really see you. The illusion all came crashing down.

Now your skin was so cold. So lifeless. So... opposite from what you were when you were alive. You were pale. Your lips were tinted blue. You were so still. So deathly still. Not one movement.

It freaked him out.

He couldn't believe it was you on that metal table—it didn't look like you. Where was the halo he always saw around your head? Where was that beam of light following you around?

His rose-tinted glasses suddenly became grey and dull. Taking your left hand, Crispin felt his heart shatter even more when his hand brushed the string ring on your finger. They had cleaned you up and made sure there was no blood left on your body, but nothing could remove those tiny, miniscule splatters that stained the string.

Remnants of what happened today.

You never did remove it. Even when showering or swimming or washing the dishes, you'd joked to him.

"See? 'Di ko nga kailangan ng singsing. Mas maganda pa nga 'to, eh. I can wear it all the time! Matibay pa!"

Crispin could nearly hear you, but it was all just a memory in his mind. God, he didn't want to forget your voice. Your laughter. Your cries. You whispering to him how much you loved him. He couldn't. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did.

Both of you didn't even get to say "I love you" one last time. But reality was harsh, and this wasn't a movie where the leading characters could have a lengthy monologue confessing to each other as the dramatic scene was drawn out from seconds into minutes.

There were no camera angles, no music, no time left, and no happy endings. Everything was raw. Real.

"Hindi ba't sinabi mo sa akin na sabay tayong mangangarap?"

"Mahal," his voice trembled as he held your icy hand to his lips, kissing it. "Huwag mo akong iwan. What about us? Our dreams? Andami pa nating pangarap, 'di ba? Mga gustong gawin?"

No response.

"Tatatanda pa tayo, 'di ba? Bibili pa tayo ng bahay na nasa bundok... then we'll travel the world together, right? We've... We've saved up half of the funds! You... You can't leave now..."

Silence.

Crispin felt tears dripping down his face. He hadn't noticed he was crying. Only with you could he be a sniveling mess—around the others, he always had to be the kuya. The responsible one. The oldest one. The loyal bodyguard.

With you? He could be anything and you would never judge him.

Even when you were dead, he was still a sniveling mess in your arms.

"Sabi mo gusto mong manalo sa lotto," he choked out, cupping your cheeks. It was so strange to him; how colorless they were compared to how... spirited you were in life. "I'll do that... I'll make that happen. Just please... please come back to me. Gagawin ko ang lahat... bumalik ka sa akin, mahal. Mahal..."

Crispin told himself nothing was impossible when a god loved someone, yet now all this god could do was be paralyzed by his despair.

"Bakit bigla kang lumisan nang hindi man lang nagpaalam?"

They say there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. People don't talk enough about how they weren't actually stages. They were just five emotions and there was no particular order they came in. They would come and go, and that was how dealing with loss really was.

Today, as he was cradling his departed soulmate and the only woman he knew he'd ever love this much—reduced to tears while nursing his broken heart—he was feeling denial, bargaining, and depression all at once.

Only then did he allow himself to feel anger—just pure, unadulterated fury—when Alexandra let him and his brother unleash their bloodlust to the guilty aswang clan that had been the culprits of the mall shooting. The bank robbery.

He had his vengeance.

The son of the wargod nearly became a god of war that night, coming home soaked in the same crimson that dripped off his guns. He swore to himself he'd rip the world apart for you and build it back from scratch. Thus, Crispin was merciless to those who murdered you and all those other innocent humans.

He took his time watching the life dissipate out of their eyes, especially since he didn't see yours before you died. They were already closed when he got to the hospital too late.

Denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. He'd felt all that as time passed, on and off.

Acceptance? That last stage? That last emotion? Crispin never did really get to that point. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn't. Only more time would tell.

"Isang malamig na hangin ang yumakap sa akin."

The demigod sat under the tree that shaded your gravestone, a bouquet of white and red roses beside him while he relaxed on the grass. It was a classic symbol of true and everlasting love. That was the vow you'd made to one another, right?

December 1st.

It had been one year since your death. Wasn't it funny how the fates worked? Two years ago, on this very day, you two promised each other that you'd be together forever. He said that this day would be memorable to him until the day he died because technically, it was your engagement slash informal wedding anniversary.

Then one year ago, you had been shot trying to protect a child from those armed aswang. You saved the kid, alright. Crispin even made sure that the little boy, one of the lucky survivors of the shooting, wouldn't be targeted by the aswang. He ensured your sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. But what was supposed to be a marriage anniversary turned into your death anniversary.

December 1st.

The day would indeed be eternally ingrained into his mind.

But now, he could only dwell on nostalgia as he crouched and cleaned your gravestone, polishing it after removing all the grass and dirt. Engraved on it were the words beloved friend, sister, and wife.

Wife.

He really should have married you before you were declared dead. It didn't matter now; you would always be his wife, even in death.

On the left side of your gravestone was his mother's tombstone. He did the same, cleaning it and polishing it. When he was done, he tapped your gravestone thrice, "Una na ako, mahal. Paalam din, Ma. Baka hanapin pa ako ni bossing."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He jerked, swerving around and standing up. He swore someone just touched his shoulder and—

Whoosh!

"Parang isang pahiwatig na magpapaalam ka na."

A gentle breeze came from behind him, where the tree was. Once more, he turned around.

Crispin didn't know what to do.

He thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. Not with the way your hand rested on his cheek. Not with how warm you felt.

Despite seeming almost transparent, you looked absolutely radiant, more so than when you were in life. If he was biased before about you having a halo and a beam of light following you around, now he wasn't (because you really did have a golden circle on your head and a candescent glow behind you).

You didn't speak, but again, you tapped your index finger thrice on his cheek. He was too stunned to react to the featherlight touch you had. It was almost nothing, but it was there. A ghostly tap, tap, tap.

"... Mahal?" he whispered.

You joyfully beamed at him (God, did you look divine), then planted a fragile kiss on his lips. You settled down on the roots of the tree and patted the patch of grass beside it. He sat down slowly. When he did, he removed his black gloves while you intertwined your hand with his.

On his left ring finger was a string ring made from that old shirt of yours. The same one you improvised your string ring from. It was how Crispin always remembered you and how he brought your memory everywhere with him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The triple tapping. Perhaps it was your way of wordlessly saying you loved him while simultaneously bidding him goodbye as a ghost. He didn't know. You couldn't speak (or he couldn't hear you), so you did what you could.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Just that gesture every once in a while as you quietly listened to him tell you about his day.

When he had to leave, he saw you there by the tree, sitting and waving at him. The next time he came to visit, you were there. Always there, waiting.

And when you weren't, after a couple of decades, Crispin knew that it was time for him to let you go.

To let himself move on.

But that didn't mean he stopped hurting or stopped loving you. He could never stop loving you. Never.

Kahit kailangan ka niyang bitawan upang makapagpatuloy ka sa kabilang buhay, habangbuhay kang minahal ng isang diyos ng digmaan.

× AUTHOR'S NOTE ×

Nasa mood kasi akong manakit ng tao (because ngayon ko lang pinanood ang mga pelikula ni Rico Yan & Claudine Barretto after his death; ang pait eh, right person but wrong time). Medyo sadista pala ako, haha. Ayun, pati ako umiiyak habang nagsusulat nito. Even when I was showering, I was still crying and blowing my nose out. Sana nagustuhan niyo kasi pati author niyo nasaktan sa ginawa niya. 🥲😅

And that tapping gesture was inspired by a random Reddit post I saw years ago. As someone whose love language ain't saying stuff out loud, that just really called out to me. Acts of service kasi akin, eh.

Anyways, I finished writing this at like, 12AM. I'll just edit the typos and errors tomorrow because I want to get this oneshot off my chest. Goodnight! 😂💤

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, too! (Yes, you may also rant at me for this.) 💙

TAGLIST: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @hannalogies @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie @haliya-mori

[youn9racha]

I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

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Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, ��hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

~~

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

[maybeimamuppet]

home away from home

heyyyy everybodyyyyy

sorry it’s been a minute since i’ve posted anything!! i’m going through some stuff in my personal life that makes writing kinda tough but nobody cares about that so let’s get into this!! 

this is a request fill for gracerailly on ao3 who requested the whole main squad going on vacation together so here’s 15k words of found family vacation brainrot. also the twins are back bc it’s my mental breakdown and i get to pick the characters so enjoy that lol

tw for 

brief discussion of pregnancy complications 

mentioned depression

and as always please let me know if i’ve missed something so i can add it in :)

enjoy!

—————

Cady and Janis are blowing up balloons. Very important balloons, because tomorrow is their daughters’ first birthday. Janis’ face is a bit red from the effort and Cady is getting progressively more exhausted. 

Cady yelps quietly into a balloon when their phones both go off at the same time. Janis laughs and checks hers to see what it is. It turns out to be a message from Regina in their friend group chat. 

reginald: Hey, by any chance do you guys have plans for the Fourth of July? 

reginald: Definitely not related to the girls’ birthday present at all.

snarkisian: i don’t think so ??? why ?? 

reginald: Good. Don’t. 

snarkisian: what ??? 

reginald: Don’t make any plans. For that whole week. 

reginald: And that goes for the rest of you too.

snarkisian: reggie wtf 

snarkisian: this is so ominous what are you planning 

reginald: Fun.

snarkisian: that’s not helping 

reginald: You’ll find out tomorrow oh my god. Just let me have this. 

snarkisian: ok ok damn

reginald: Thank you. Goodnight and happy birthday twins!! 

snarkisian:  ?????? goodnight 

“Reggie’s up to something,” Janis sighs, clicking her phone off. They both look around at the sea of balloons around them and realize they can’t see the floor anymore. “This is probably enough.” 

“I think so,” Cady chuckles breathlessly. “Let’s go to bed, we have a big day tomorrow.” 

“Big day indeed,” Janis murmurs, kissing her wife and leading them up to bed. 

————-

“Okay, let’s find out what this creepy mystery present your aunties got you is, hm?” Janis says, holding Leo on her lap. Cady has Layla on her lap next to them, and they help the twins open a large bag in front of them. 

Layla happily pulls out all the tissue paper and wags it around, seeming more excited about the crinkle sounds than the actual present underneath. Leo reaches in and pulls out a tiny sun hat. 

“Aww,” Cady coos. “How cute! Little hats.” 

“There’s more, keep going,” Karen chuckles as Leo puts the hat on and it falls over her eyes. The twins pull out two little bathing suits, and two pairs of adorable sandals. 

“So what does this have to do with… any of that shit yesterday?” Janis asks confusedly. 

“Where can they wear that stuff?” Gretchen asks. Cady looks up as she catches on to what’s happening. 

“A beach?” 

“We bought a lake house, we thought we’d take all of you there for the Fourth,” Regina nods. 

“Oh my god! That’s awesome!” Cady says. “Girls, you get to go on your first beach trip!” 

“That’s… not what I was expecting, but… wow,” Janis says. She looks at Leo, who now has both hats on and is wearing her sandals on her hands. “I think this one is more excited about the clothes.” 

Leo looks up at her and giggles when Janis adjusts her hats so she can see again. Janis bends down to kiss her chubby cheek. 

“Little goof. Only a year old and you’re already trying to be funny.” 

——————

They all have about a month to prepare for the trip, and gather supplies. Cady and Janis decided that trying to fly back to Illinois wasn’t quite something they were ready to face with two babies and decided to drive. Aaron and Damian said they’d drive with them, and the Plastics begrudgingly joined. So they all chipped in to rent a large van and decided to go together. 

Cady frantically researched tips for taking wee ones on long car trips, and found that the best tip is to leave early, while they’re asleep, so they’re quiet for a good chunk of the trip. Their friends seem much less on board with the idea of waking up at four in the morning to get going, but understand that it’s a necessary evil. 

Janis is the strongest night owl, so she’s told to be the first driver while everyone else sleeps in the back. 

All the luggage gets loaded in and pets dropped off at daycare the day before, so they can just hop in and go. Or so was the plan. 

-

Cady carefully transfers the babies to their car seats from their cribs so they don’t wake up, before she tucks them back in with their little blankets and stuffies. Janis puts them in the car, with Regina stuck in between. She’s the most… apprehensive, of the babies, so they decided to give her babysitting duty while the twins would spend most of the time asleep. 

“Is everyone here?” Janis yawns, taking a solid swig of her coffee to help wake her up. 

“Damian’s not,” Aaron replies. 

“Ugh.” Janis huffs. “I’ll go get him.” 

She opens her door and stomps back to her house, opening the front door to yell for her best friend. “Damian! Come out!”

“I’m gay!” Damian yells back. 

“To the car, dumbass! We gotta go!” 

“Car, I’m gay!” Damian replies childishly, coming downstairs in a onesie. “Chill, I had to finish my skincare routine.”

“Caddy wants to go before the smalls wake up, come on,” Janis grumbles. 

“It’s five in the morning!” Damian retorts. “We got time.” 

“You don’t know these babies,” Janis sighs. Damian clambers in the back next to his boyfriend while Janis climbs back into her seat. “Okay. For the love of fuck, do we have everything and everyone?” 

“Yeah,” Regina yawns. “Let’s go.” 

“Thank Christ.” 

————-

Janis and Cady switch places at their first stop, after about three hours of driving. By some miracle, both babies are still asleep. Regina is subbed out for Damian and they’re back on the road within fifteen minutes. 

The second break comes much quicker than they were hoping, only about half an hour later. Leo wakes up and rubs her little eyes with a fist, before looking around with a yawn. She whimpers when she sees she’s in her seat and neither of her moms are anywhere to be found. 

“Oh no, you’re okay,” Damian says frantically when she starts to cry. Leo looks at him with a little wail and reaches for him, straining against her buckles. “Uh… I can’t take you out, but you don’t have to cry! Your moms are right there, we didn’t steal you, I promise!” 

Leo’s crying wakes up Layla, who also begins fussing when she can’t find her moms. Damian frantically tries to calm them, dancing their little toys in front of their faces and making sure they both have their pacifiers. 

“Sorry Dame,” Cady apologizes. “They should calm down in a second. And we’re almost to a gas station, I’ll pull over there.” 

“It’s okay,” Damian says. “Poor things.” 

He tries to play peekaboo with both of them

at the same time until they can stop. It doesn’t quite work, but it distracts them enough that they stop crying quite so loud. 

“Here we go,” Cady says. Everyone stretches and works their way out, while Cady and Janis see to their daughters. Janis grabs Layla and Cady gets Leo. “Hi, munchkin! Did you wake up all alone? Poor baby, come here.” 

Leo gratefully cuddles into her mama and smiles when she sees Janis inside the building. Janis passes Layla over so Cady can go get them changed and dressed for the day. 

-

“Where’s Cady?” Regina asks, browsing the racks of snacks inside. 

“She’s with the babies,” Janis answers. “Getting them dressed.” 

“Speak of the devil,” Damian says as the restroom door opens and Cady exits, carrying Leo and holding hands with Layla. “Oh my goodness.” 

Everyone turns to see what he’s talking about, and give similar reactions. The girls are dressed as little watermelons, in green short shorts and red and black polka dot tunic tops with green trim. And complete with matching watermelon patterned sandals. 

“Aww, my little melons!” Janis coos, taking Leo as she reaches for her. “Hi Bee. You still sleepy?” Leo nods and rests her head on her shoulder. “Aww. You can sleep in the car. Sweet girl.” 

Layla lets go of her mama’s hand and takes shaky steps over to greet her aunties and uncles. She makes it to Aaron first and reaches to be picked up. 

“Hi Lala!” Aaron greets happily, picking her up and tossing her in the air before holding her close. She giggles and tries to stick her little fingers in his mouth. Aaron doesn’t let her, but he moves his chin to make her laugh. “Cool outfit!” 

Damian comes up and gently kisses his niece’s cheek. Layla squeals happily and leans closer into Aaron. “And these outfits are reversible. If you turn them this way,” he explains, taking Layla and holding her upside-down. “Little strawberries!” 

Layla laughs as she looks around upside-down, and shrieks happily as her exposed belly gets tickled. Damian laughs with her as he turns her back the right way. 

“Crazies,” Cady chuckles affectionately. “Are we ready to go again?” 

“I think so,” Gretchen replies, armed with the snacks her partners have purchased and made her help carry. Everyone else nods and heads back out into the parking lot. 

They settle back into the same spots, since this stretch of the trip was shorter than they had counted on. The twins seem more okay with their moms being out of sight now that they’re less sleepy, and are content to play games with Damian and babble about the things they see out the windows. 

Damian smiles as Leo grabs onto his hand and goes quiet, her little fists wrapped around his ring and index fingers as she looks wistfully out the window. Layla shrieks happily as she sees some cows out her own window. 

“What are those, Lala?” Damian asks. “Are they cows? What do cows say?” 

“Moooooo!” Layla replies eagerly, pointing to the creatures as they go by. Everyone laughs. 

“Yeah, good job,” Damian chuckles, tickling her belly. Layla giggles happily and tries to wiggle away as best she can. 

“She loves animals, she knows all the sounds,” Cady replies. “Except pigs.” 

“Why pigs?” 

“Janis never read that page in their story right. Now they think pigs say ‘you have a right to remain silent.’” 

“It’s important knowledge!” Janis defends. “How many times are they actually gonna need to know the sound a pig makes?” 

“When we get letters home from their preschool that they’ve incited a riot, you’re handling it,” Cady giggles. “I’m just glad they’re not copying you yet.” 

“I’m just raising them with street smarts.” 

“Uhhuh,” Cady replies sarcastically. “Have fun using that excuse to bail them out of jail.” 

“We’re raising them to be decent humans too, they won’t be in jail! I’m just doing this, like, you know. Just in case.” 

“Whatever you say, my love.” 

——————

After another few hours, it’s Damian’s turn to drive, and nobody is safe. 

Surprisingly, it seems to be going well for the first fifteen minutes or so.

Then, Regina pipes up from the back. 

“Guys?”

“Yeah?” Janis replies, looking in the mirror to see them from her spot in the passenger seat. 

“Where’s Aaron?” Regina asks. Janis whips around and looks, counting everyone. Babies, Cady, Plastics, Damian… no Aaron. 

“Oh my god, we left him at the gas station!” Damian screeches. “I’m a terrible boyfriend!” 

“Turn around!” Janis shrieks as well. 

“I can’t, this is a no U-turn zone! When’s the next exit?!” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Well, look!” Damian demands.

Janis does, frantically switching between looking for road signs and looking at her phone map until they find somewhere they can safely turn around and head back to the previous rest stop. Everyone in the backseats is howling with laughter. 

Finally, they get turned around and headed to rescue their lost passenger. Janis calls Aaron to let him know they’re on their way back. 

“I was wondering how long it would take you guys to notice,” is the first thing Aaron says when the call connects. 

“Babe, we’ll be right there, we’re heading back right now!” Damian says frantically. 

“Take your time. I’ll just be here. Aaaaalll alone. Because you forgot me.” 

“I’m sorry but now is not the time to be petty!” 

“You forgot me at a gas station!” Aaron huffs. 

“By accident!”

“Mmhmm,” Aaron chuckles. “Don’t worry, honey. I made friends with the cashier, got some snacks, it’s all good.”

“I love you!” Damian says desperately. Aaron laughs. 

“Uhhuh. You owe me for this,” he replies. Janis gags at the implications. “Sorry Janis.”

“Your room better be as far away from ours as possible,” Janis grumbles. 

“Whatever you want, babe,” Damian purrs into the phone.

“Okay hanging up now byeeee!” Janis says desperately before she hangs up on Aaron. She turns to her best friend and huffs, “You are paying for my brain bleach.”

“I love you.”

“I hope we crash.”

—-

As soon as he parks the car (rather poorly), Damian throws his door open and runs to find his boyfriend. The rest of them follow and find Damian clinging to Aaron like a lost child and frantically apologizing into his shoulder. Aaron, ironically, is the one doing the comforting as he weakly pats Damian’s shoulder. 

“Dame, smile,” Gretchen teases. “I’m making a scrapbook of this trip.”

“You’re all awful,” Damian grumbles, refusing to remove himself from his boyfriend. 

“I take it I’m driving now?” Aaron chuckles. 

Damian nods. “I’m distraught.”

“Uhhuh.” Aaron hums. “Alright, I’ve spent more than enough time here, let’s go.”

—————-

After many, many hours and several naps on everyone’s parts, they’re finally on the last leg of the trip. Gretchen takes over driving for Regina, which means Regina is in charge of the tunes. 

Naturally, she starts blasting Taylor Swift, to some mixed reactions. Janis laughs as her little ones dance along as best they can all buckled into their seats. Layla gives some very vigorous head-bangs that don’t totally match the vibe of the song, and Leo seems content to just wiggle in her seat to the beat of the music. 

After a couple songs, Regina’s playlist brings up I Knew You Were Trouble. Regina, Cady, Gretchen, Karen and Damian all immediately sing along. Janis and Aaron join rather more begrudgingly. And the babies, evidently feeling left out, begin to babble along as well. 

When it gets to the chorus, the volume level could rival a jet engine. Everyone screams along, including the little ones as they catch on to the rhythm of the song. They don’t quite get it at the right time, but they’ve got the spirit. 

“Yeah, sing it, girls!” Regina cheers, turning around to smile at her nieces. They can’t see her, but their volume does pick up a little bit in response. “Get those emotions out. Hell yeah.” 

“Don’t fucking swear in front of my kids!” Janis chides. Cady gently thwacks her on the back of the head. “Ouch.” 

“Practice what you preach,” Cady hums lovingly, popping up to kiss her wife’s cheek to make up for the clearly very severe injury she’s inflicted. “They already copy you, it won’t be too long before they start trying to copy what you say.” 

“They would never,” Janis scoffs, aghast at the mere suggestion that her children would ever so much as dare to curse. “Right, Bug?” 

“Aaah!” Layla says. 

“Ladybug, the song is over,” Janis laughs. “Should we play it again?” 

Layla nods eagerly, already wiggling in preparation to dance again. Janis bends to kiss her nose as Regina skips back to it. 

“You’re a very good dancer, Loopsy,” Janis chuckles. “And you too, Bumblebee.” 

Leo looks away from her window and at her mommy, giving a precious little grin when she sees her. Janis smiles back and kisses her cheek. 

Leo whines when she pulls back and reaches for her again. Janis smiles sadly and gently holds her baby’s little face. “You wanna cuddle? We’re almost there, you just have to stay in your seat a little bit longer.” 

Leo starts to cry when she pulls her hand away. Janis pouts and puts her hand back, but Leo doesn’t calm down. 

“Baby, it’s okay,” Janis hushes gently. “Just a few more minutes and then I can hold you, I promise. Oh my goodness, Bee, why are you so sad?” 

Almost like a repeat of the morning, Layla also starts to cry as they get closer to their destination and her window is no longer enough to entertain her. Janis pops between them to pepper kisses over their little faces in a ditch attempt to calm them down. 

Cady starts playing peek-a-boo with Layla from behind the seat, which distracts her enough that she stops crying. Leo keeps wailing no matter how many smooches she gets from her mommy. 

Janis is almost desperate enough to take Leo out of her seat while they’re still moving by the time they finally arrive at their lake house. Janis wastes no time undoing her baby’s buckles and picking her up for a cuddle. 

Everyone works their way out of the car and grabs either a baby or a bag to carry inside. Cady stops Layla from running full speed into the lake, and Janis continues trying to calm Leo down. 

By the time they cross the threshold, Leo is dead asleep against her shoulder. Cady enters with the other one, panting slightly after their little game of chase. 

“Sleepy little girl,” she hums quietly, kissing Leo’s teary cheek as she passes by. “Still can’t drift off without a cuddle.” 

“I’m not complaining,” Janis whispers, carefully holding the back of Leo’s head. Layla wiggles out of Cady’s hold as soon as they’re inside and runs off in the first direction she can. 

“Guys, heads up, baby incoming!” Cady calls to their friends in the living room. Her daughters have only been walking for less than six months, so she could easily catch her if she wanted to, but she feels it’s important for Layla to get some energy out. “Just don’t let her kill herself, please!” 

“We got it!” Aaron calls back. Cady grins and turns to her wife. 

“Regina said we’re in the first door on the left upstairs, can you go put her down?” 

“Yeah,” Janis replies, crouching down a bit so Cady can kiss the baby goodnight before heading up to their room. Cady heads into the living room to find the other one. 

Layla is running in a loop around the island in the kitchen and all the way through the living room. Their friends are all standing around watching her go, except Karen, who decided to join her. 

Cady crouches down behind the counter and waits. When two little pigtails pop out, so does she, with a, “Bwah!” 

Layla shrieks in surprise and freezes, turning to see her. She laughs when she sees it’s just her mama and carries on running around. 

“How long will she keep going?” Regina asks, watching her niece and partner chase each other in circles. 

“As long as it takes,” Cady shrugs. 

“As long as it takes to what?” Damian asks in slight concern. Layla suddenly collapses face first on the ground, sound asleep. 

“That.” 

“This happen often?” Aaron chuckles. 

“You have no idea,” Cady sighs as she goes to scoop her daughter off the floor. “Lotta energy in this little body. Goodnight, everybody.”

“Goodnight!” 

—-

Cady is woken the next morning by ‘singing’. One of her babies has evidently decided to begin her day with a little jam session, and Cady can almost recognize it as one of the Taylor Swift songs from yesterday. It’s a strange, but adorable change from how their days usually begin. She yawns and heads to go get them up for the morning.

“Good morning, gi-“ she says as she approaches the cribs. One of them is missing. “Girl. Bee, where’s sissy?” 

“Dedede,” Leo explains, pointing to the door and then her sister’s crib. 

“Uncle Damian took her? Should we get dressed and go find them?” Leo nods and reaches out for her, so Cady scoops her up and kisses her all over her little face. Upon turning back to the bed, she notices Janis is also missing. “What about Mommy, do you know where she went?” 

Leo shakes her head, sitting patiently on the big bed while her mama picks out her clothes for the day. Cady grins seeing her baby looking so small huddled amongst the pillows. 

“We’ll find her too then, hm? Or maybe we just stay here all day and hide together. I like Leo and Mama days, what do you think?” she chuckles. Leo shrieks happily as Cady suddenly leaps onto the bed next to her and starts tickling her belly and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. “Yeah, maybe another day. Let’s get you dressed, come here.”

Leo is very helpful as Cady gets her out of her jammies and into her little swimsuit and sundress that the Plastics had bought her. Miraculously, it all still fits perfectly. 

“There we go, you’re all dressed! You look very pretty in your little beach ouffit!” Cady coos. Leo grins and hunches in on herself sheepishly. “You’re so cute, I can’t take it. Okay, let’s go find sissy and Mommy, come on.” 

“Lalala,” Leo helpfully informs her upon hearing her sister in the kitchen. 

“I hear her too, I think she’s in here,” Cady says as she pushes the door open. “Yeah, here’s everybody!” 

“Hey!” Everyone choruses upon seeing the two of them. 

“I was gonna take both and give them breakfast but this little munchkin was still sleepy,” Damian says, taking his niece from Cady as she reaches for him. “But now she looks fantastic in this little tropical getup!” 

“Beach ready,” Janis chuckles, kissing her baby good morning and offering her some banana to eat. “You have pineapples on your dress, you look so pretty!” 

Leo giggles happily and munches on her banana. Layla looks up from her spot on Karen’s lap and bleats happily as she spies her mama. Cady laughs and goes to greet her other baby. 

“Good morning, my sweet girl! Did you wake up early today and hang out with your aunties and uncles?” she asks. Layla giggles and cuddles into her shoulder. “Aww, hi. I missed you too. Are you excited to go to the beach today?” 

“Eee!” Layla squeals happily. Cady laughs and kisses her temple. 

“Almost! Beach.”

“Eee.”

“We’ll work on it,” Cady sighs. “Should we go get you dressed too?” Layla nods and points upstairs, so Cady carries her back up to get her ready for the day. 

-

By the time Layla and Cady are both ready, everyone else has gotten changed and packed and sunscreened for a day at the beach. Cady returns to find Leo now fully decked out in her beach hat, sandals and some teeny tiny shades. 

“Oh my goodness, Leo, you look so cool!” she laughs. “Should we go?” 

“Yeah, come on,” Regina says. Their place is practically on the beach, so they just have a short walk to be on the shore of the lake. Layla toddles the whole way herself, holding her mothers’ hands, and Leo rides on Damian’s shoulders. 

When she sees the lake, Layla immediately tries to take off towards it to go swim. She makes it a few inches before Janis’ grip tightens slightly on her hand and she falls onto her bum. 

“Blelele,” she says pleadingly, pointing to the water. 

“You can go to the water in just a second, we just have to go with you!” Cady giggles. “Come here.” 

Layla lets her mama take off her dress and sandals so she’s left in her baby bikini. She giggles as Cady blows a raspberry on her tummy and picks her up. Janis does the same to Leo, and they head down to see how their daughters react to their first real body of water. 

Aaron and Karen both tear past them and cannonball into the water, making the little ones giggle as they hear the splash. 

“Okay, ready?” Cady asks, holding Layla aloft. Layla kicks her legs in excitement and squeals happily as Cady bends down to dip her little toes in the lake. “What do you think? Is it cold?” 

“She’s definitely our little fishy,” Janis laughs as Layla starts kicking again to splash. “Let’s see what this little munchkin thinks.” 

She bends down next to Cady and Layla to dip Leo’s toes in. Leo looks at the waves lapping against her little feet for a moment before she bursts into tears. 

“Oh no, baby,” Janis says sadly, standing back up and holding Leo close. “You don’t like it?” 

Leo wails in reply, wiggling herself as close to her mommy as she can get. Janis pouts and rubs her back to comfort her. 

“Mamamama,” Leo begs, reaching a little hand for Cady. Cady pouts and switches twins with her wife. 

“Come here pumpkin, it’s okay. Let’s go play in the sand, we can try the water another time. Shh, sweetheart, Mama’s got you,” Cady hushes. Leo sniffles and buries her face in her neck. Cady kisses Layla and Janis goodbye and heads to find where Damian and Regina are sunbathing. 

“Hey!” Damian greets. His energy shifts when he sees the distraught baby in Cady’s arms. “Oh no, Leo! You didn’t like the lake?” 

“She’s just not ready yet,” Cady says, giving Leo a little bounce and drying her tears with her thumb. “We’ll hang out up here for a while and watch.” 

“Yeah, there’s plenty of room,” Regina says, scooting over a bit so they can sit between herself and Damian. Gretchen seems to be asleep already in the sand next to her. Cady settles on a towel and kisses Leo’s temple. 

“Dede,” Leo murmurs, pointing to her uncle. Cady grins and peppers more kisses to the top of her head. 

“You wanna sit with Uncle Damian? Okay, here,” she says, passing her over. Damian happily takes her and holds her in his lap. 

“Yeah, hey, Leo,” he says, propping her up on his knees. Leo finally smiles and reaches to grab his face. “Ow, watch the hair. Let’s see… can you say Damian? This is gonna be your first word or so help me. Damian.”

“Dedede,” Leo replies, tugging on one of his ears. Damian gently removes her little fist and looks into her bright blue eyes. 

“Daaaaamian. Day.”

“De?” Leo echoes. Damian nods. 

“Me.”

“Mee!”

“An.”

“Na.” 

“Damian!”

“Dedede,” Leo says again. Damian sighs. 

“We’ll work on it.” 

“Damian’s tricky, give her a break,” Cady laughs. “Janis is still just ‘Mee’.”

“Mee?” Leo asks, looking around for Janis. 

“Mommy’s with Lala,” Cady replies, pointing to her wife and other daughter splashing around the lake. 

She laughs as Layla gives a particularly vigorous one and they can just barely hear Janis call, “You little stinker!” as she’s showered with cold water.

Leo seems content now that she knows where her mommy is, and turns back to her uncle. Damian tickles her belly, earning himself a happy shriek as she tries to wiggle away. 

“Has she been in the sand yet?” he asks Cady. 

“No, do you want to try?” Cady responds. Damian nods and makes a sort of hoop with his legs, resting Leo in between so she’s contained but still has a little bit of room to explore. 

Leo looks up at him curiously, confused by the rough new texture against her little legs. Damian picks up a handful of sand and rains it down over her little feet. She wiggles her toes and grabs her own handful to investigate. 

“What do you think?“ Damian asks. “You’re not crying, that’s a good sign. No, don’t eat it.” 

Leo pouts as he catches her fist halfway to her mouth and brushes the sand off her chubby palm. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I can’t let you eat sand,” Damian pleads. “You look too much like a tiny Janis, I can’t handle it.” 

“Don’t they? I’m always saying they look like if she shrunk and had blue eyes,” Cady says. “Can you keep an eye on her? I wanna go check on Jay and Lala.” 

“Of course,” Damian replies. Regina doesn’t say anything, having joined Gretchen in dreamland. Cady kisses both Damian and Leo’s cheeks before she heads back to the shore. 

“There’s Mama, Ladybug, look!” Janis says when she sees Cady standing there. “Tell her to come swim!” 

“Mamamama!” Layla babbles happily, reaching out for Cady. 

“No way,” Cady laughs. “This lake is freezing.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Janis begs. “Come onnnn.” 

“Mamama,” Layla pouts, straining against Janis to try to get Cady to come in.

“Pleeeeease?” Janis adds. Cady rolls her eyes lovingly.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re both cute. Stand back.”

“Why-ack!” 

Janis and Layla both yelp as Cady dives into the lake, showering them both with freezing cold water. 

“Caddy!” 

“I told you to stand back,” Cady giggles as she pops back above the surface. Layla laughs and reaches for her. “Hi, baby bug! Come here.”

“Can you show Mama what we practiced?” Janis asks. Layla nods and eagerly wiggles away. Cady almost panics when Janis suddenly lets her go, but Layla just turns onto her back so she can breathe and kicks her legs until she bumps into her mama’s chest. 

“Oh my god, Lala! That’s amazing!” Cady gasps. “Look at you go, I’m so proud of you!” 

Janis swims over too, squishing the baby between them as she leans to give Cady a kiss. “She wanted to swim, so… we worked on our backstroke.” 

“You guys did great,” Cady grins. “You’re such a good mommy. Huh, Ladybug? We love Mommy so much.” 

Layla nods and cuddles into Janis, who smiles widely and peppers kisses against Layla’s temple. “I love you too.” 

Layla giggles happily as she’s suddenly held high in the air, and splashes as she’s brought back to the water. 

“We’re gonna work on that next,” Janis huffs. “No more splashing.” 

Impishly, Layla splashes again, showering her moms in cold water. 

“Let her have her fun, she’s still little enough that she can’t do that much damage,” Cady hums. She’s suddenly hit with a small tidal wave. “I take it back.” 

“Not very nice, Ladybug,” Janis chides gently. Layla rubs her chest with her little hand to say sorry in sign language. “Aww. We forgive you, baby. Here, splash this way.” 

“They’re getting better with their signing,” Cady says happily as Layla gleefully splashes all she wants away from people. 

“Yeah,” Janis grins. “You want this?”

“Sure,” Cady laughs as she holds Layla aloft. “Gimme dis baby.” 

“I’m gonna go make sure Damian hasn’t killed Leo,” Janis says, handing Layla to her wife and kissing them both. “Or the other way around. Have fun.”

“You too,” Cady giggles. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis calls from the shoreline. 

Janis returns to find Leo lying next to her uncle on the sand, with her arms bent up under her head and her legs crossed so they’re lying in the same position. She’s also wearing Damian’s sunglasses and her own pacifier, and seems content to just chill. 

“Lishy, you look so cool!” she laughs. “Look at your shades.” 

Leo grabs them and pulls them down so she can see, and grins when she sees her mommy sitting down next to her. “Mee.”

“Yeah, hi baby,” Janis grins. Leo takes her sunglasses off and hands them back to her uncle, nuzzling into her mommy. Janis grins and gently brushes a hand through her short curls. “What have you been up to?” 

“Sananana,” Leo explains. “Dede.”

“Sounds fun,” Janis nods, as if she understands what Leo is saying. “Come here.” 

Leo giggles happily as Janis scoops her up and holds her in her lap, resting her head on Janis’ chest. Damian tips his head slightly to see his niece, and smiles as she seems to get much sleepier as soon as she’s being cuddled. 

“She’s so cute,” he says, watching Leo’s eyes flutter shut and her breathing even out. Janis carefully cradles her baby against her and nods. 

“She has good genes,” she murmurs. “My little cuddle bug.” 

“They’re already so different,” Damian says. 

“They always have been. Leo’s always been quieter and cuddlier. And Layla’s been running away from us since she could roll herself over,” Janis chuckles. “I just… like, you know I love you. And I obviously love Caddy more than I can say. But I never thought I could… love something this much. Let alone two of them. Like… they’re me, y’know? They’re only a year old and they’ve already helped me feel so much more confident and settled in myself.”

“I’m glad,” Damian murmurs. “And I can see why. They’re so sweet. And absolutely precious. You’re a great mom, Janjan.” 

“Thanks,” Janis grins, gently fiddling with one of her baby’s curls. “Have you and Aaron talked about kids at all?” 

“Not really. I think I got drunk once and kept talking about how we should have a baby,” Damian says, his eyes seeming a bit haunted at the vague memories. “But nothing serious.” 

“That’s fair,” Janis says, trying not to laugh at the mental image and wake her child. “You’d be a good dad. You’re already a great uncle.” 

“I try,” Damian chuckles. “They make it pretty easy.” 

“Yeah,” Janis grins. “I got lucky there. Once they came home they were some of the easiest babies I’ve seen. Made everything worth it.” 

“Worth it?” Damian asks, tipping his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

Janis sighs and tenses slightly. “Well, you know everything while Caddy was pregnant. That was a lot of bullshit. But we also only got pregnant on our third try. None of the embryos implanted the first time and we had a miscarriage the second.” 

“Oh god,” Damian whispers in horror. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She didn’t want to,” Janis replies, looking out to the lake and smiling as she sees her wife laughing at Layla. “It messed both of us up for a long time, she just wanted to… process it on her own time and try to move on as best she could. And we wanted it to be more of a surprise when we actually got pregnant.” 

“That makes sense,” Damian nods. “And it definitely was a surprise. I didn’t think you even wanted kids.” 

“I didn’t either,” Janis says. “For a long time. But Caddy… she… she’s perfect. I knew she would be a perfect mama, that we’d be doing it together. I realized I just wanted a bigger family with her. And she had been asking for a long time, she kinda wore me down, too.” 

Damian laughs outright at that. “I’m glad. You seem so much happier now than you used to be.”

“I am,” Janis whispers, kissing the top of a little head. Leo stirs slightly, but Janis just slips her pacifier back between her lips and she drifts off again. “I think I’ll always have stuff going on in my head. But now I have more reasons to get out of bed and fight it. And I’m still in therapy and stuff. But yeah, high school Janis would not have believed you if you told her this is where she’d end up.” 

“I think that’s for the best,” Damian says. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for you too,” Janis says. “You seem really happy with Aaron.”

“I am,” Damian says with a fond smile, watching his boyfriend act a fool in the water with Karen. “He’s the best partner I think I’ve ever had.” 

“Good,” Janis says. “You know what I’d do if he wasn’t.” 

“Easy, tiger,” Damian teases. “Please don’t murder my boyfriend.” 

“Just say the word,” Janis hums. 

They stay there for a long time, watching as Karen and Aaron play a slightly modified game of chicken with Cady and Layla. The little one shrieks happily every time she’s dunked into the water, even though Cady keeps a firm grip on her and she’s never under for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Eventually they move on to Marco Polo, and Janis grins as Layla tries to say the words as best she can from Cady’s hold. She giggles happily as they’re chased around, and wiggles with glee when it’s her turn and she tags everyone. 

Leo eventually stirs in her lap, yawning around her pacifier and blinking up at Janis. 

“Hi, baby bee,” Janis murmurs. “Did you have a nice nap?” Leo nods. “Good, come here.” 

Leo giggles softly as Janis holds her up higher and smooches her little cheeks over and over. She throws her arms around her mommy’s neck for a hug and cuddles in again. 

“Sweet girl. Should we go get sissy and Mama to come eat lunch?” Janis grins, gently scratching Leo’s back. She feels her daughter nod against her and stands up. “We’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” Damian hums, stretching back out on the sand for another relaxation session. 

Janis carries Leo down to the lake, feeling the baby cling to her tighter and squeak in fright as they approach the water. “Shh, it’s okay, we won’t make you do it again if you don’t want to. Let’s just sit here, okay?” 

Janis sits them where the sand is wet, resting Leo between her legs and holding tightly to her chubby little belly to help her feel secure. Leo whimpers when a wave approaches, clinging to Janis’ fingers. 

“Shh, I’m right here,” Janis soothes. “Watch, it’s just water.” The wave runs over Leo’s legs and then recedes, only going about as high as the baby’s hips. “See? It’s not so bad, huh? It’s just like a bath! You love your baths, baby girl.”

“Abababa?” Leo asks, tipping her head up to look at her. Janis nods. 

“Yeah, it’s just like a bath. Here comes another wave, look!” Leo watches the wave as it hits her feet and rushes up her legs. She’s got a very serious and thoughtful pout on her face, but she seems less scared with each wave that hits them. “What do you think?”

Leo shivers, making Janis laugh. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty cold, huh? Look what sissy and Mama are doing, do you want to try that?” 

Leo looks where she’s pointing, at Cady gently holding Layla and slowly bouncing her around in the water to lull her into a nap. Their games seem to have tuckered Layla out, since she’s accepting the cuddles without complaint. 

Leo looks up at her warily, but she does nod. Janis smiles and picks her up, holding her tightly against herself and slowly walking over to where her wife and other baby are. 

“Hey.”

“Oh my god!” Cady gasps in fright, whirling around to see them. “Hi, Bee! You’re in the lake!” 

“So brave,” Janis adds, kissing Leo’s cheek. “And choking me just a bit.” 

“Like you’re complaining,” Cady teases. She kisses Leo too and says, “I’m so proud of you, sweet girl! What do you think?” 

Leo looks around, clinging tightly to Janis’ neck and assessing the situation she’s found herself in. Cady grins as she kicks her little legs and watches the waves she creates ripple away. 

“Look, you can splash,” Cady says. Janis carefully pries the little one off her neck and holds her so Leo’s back is against her chest, so the baby can use her hands. Leo weakly claps one against the water and flinches as she accidentally splashes herself. “Yeah, you got it!” 

Leo splashes a couple more times, feeling the cold water against her little hands as she explores this new thing. She kicks her legs again, harder this time, and gives a quiet giggle when she makes more waves. 

“See? It’s not so scary,” Cady says. “Oh, I’m so glad you came in, I’m so proud of you.” 

“This one seems about ready to get out, though,” Janis chuckles, looking at the half asleep Layla resting on Cady’s shoulder. 

“It is nap time,” Cady chuckles. “Should we go get dry?” Leo shakes her head. “No? You don’t wanna get out?” Another head shake. “Not even for lunch?” Leo thinks for a second before she nods. “That’s what I thought.” 

“We’ll come swim again after lunch,” Janis chuckles. “Brave little bee.” 

They head back to the towel and beach umbrella pile their friends have made and get situated. Karen and Aaron have returned as well, and joined in the picnic Gretchen brought with them. 

Layla gets wrapped in her froggy towel and left to nap in peace, while Leo is wrapped in her ducky towel and sits on Cady’s lap to eat with everyone. 

Janis watches in silence as Leo finishes her bottle and sneakily grabs half of Cady’s sandwich to try a bite. Cady is busy talking with Regina and doesn’t notice until she finishes the first half. 

“Who-“ she says, looking around in confusion when she sees the tiny teeth marks in her sandwich. Only one person could be the culprit, and she’s caught red handed when Cady looks down to see her still chewing. “You little stinker, this is my lunch! You had a bottle!” 

Leo gives her most precious grin, instantly winning her mama back over. 

“Do I make good sandwiches, Lolo?” Gretchen chuckles. Leo nods and reaches for the other half in Cady’s hand. 

“You are what you eat,” Cady hums. “My little turkey. Here, you can have another bite.”

Everyone laughs as Leo chomps into the sandwich like a little dinosaur. Her mouth is too small for her to get much of anything but bread, but she seems happy regardless. Cady quickly eats the rest before her kid can steal any more of her food. 

When Leo looks up again expecting more, Cady shows her her empty hands. “Where did it go?” 

Leo looks down and points to her tummy. Cady laughs and kisses her cheek. 

“Yeah, it’s in your tummy. Clever little girl. Okay, let’s go play again, I wanna go with you this time!” 

-

After a long day full of playing in the lake, building sandcastles and sunbathing, everyone slugs back to the lake house, changes into pajamas, and collapses into bed. 

————-

A couple days later, Janis wakes up on her own. Which is odd, because the twins would usually be awake and trying to escape their cribs by now. 

Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she heads to the cribs to check what’s going on. But her babies aren’t in them. “Caddy?”

“Mm?” 

“Where are the babies?”

“I dunno,” Cady yawns into her pillow. “R’gina took ‘em. A while ago.”

-

“Oh, hang on,” Regina says, politely interrupting her nail tech when her text tone goes off. She pulls her phone out of her purse to see a text from Janis. 

snarkisian: where are my children 

Regina laughs and excuses herself for a second to go find the twins with her girlfriends. The babies are lying in between them on their massage tables, in matching face masks and little cucumbers covering their eyes. The twins seem to be asleep, since they’re not anywhere near as wiggly as they usually are when they’re awake. Regina snaps a picture to send to Janis. 

reginald: Sent a picture: We’re having a girls day. Facials and mani-pedis. You have a problem with that? 

snarkisian: i have a problem with you effectively kidnapping my daughters yeah 

reginald: We asked Cady, she said we could take them for the day. 

snarkisian: was she awake ?? 

reginald: Enough. 

snarkisian: …

snarkisian: just keep them safe.

reginald: Oh, we were actually gonna take them jet skiing and then to feed some wild bears after this. 

snarkisian: >:l 

reginald: Oh my god, they’re fine. They’re asleep now, we’re just gonna go shopping and get lunch after this and then you’ll have them back. They’re having a great time so far. 

snarkisian: fine. have fun, tell them i miss them

reginald: I will. Have fun with Cady on your little break. 

Janis clicks her phone off and blinks at the wall in confusion for a moment, before turning around and crawling back into bed next to her wife. 

“You find ‘em?” Cady asks, voice adorably rough with sleep. 

“The Plastics took them out for a spa day,” Janis says. “Apparently they got facials.”

“Hm,” Cady hums, already half asleep again. 

“So we have the morning to ourselves,” Janis purrs. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Sleep.”

“But-“

“Jayjay. We have twin toddlers. I wanna sleep in,” Cady begs. Janis can feel her resolve waver as Cady nuzzles into her chest and looks up at her, blinking those big, sleepy blue eyes at her pleadingly. Janis isn’t exactly well rested herself. 

“Fine,” she hums, rolling onto her back and pulling Cady on top of her. Cady peppers some gentle kisses against the crook of her neck in thanks. 

“I’ll take you back to bed later,” she whispers. Janis squeaks quietly, earning a breathy laugh against her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis whispers, cradling her wife against her and drifting off for some much needed and deserved rest. 

——-

Cady did end up making good on her promise after a delightful morning of sleeping in, and they were nearly walked in on when the Plastics returned home with their babies. Damian and Aaron had a date day exploring the town, so luckily they had been saved from that particular bit of mortification. 

They quickly sort out their rumpled hair and get dressed before they head down to the living room. The Plastics instruct them to sit on the couch and close their eyes so the twins can surprise them with the new outfits they bought. 

“Are you guys ready?” Regina calls down the hallway. 

“Yeah!” Cady calls back. They hear the pattering of tiny feet as their daughters come running down the hall to find them. “Oh my goodness!” 

Janis breathes a sigh of relief that her babies are both in one piece, and smiles widely as Layla comes running over to show off her snazzy new outfit and pretty painted nails. “Hi, Bug! What did your aunties do to you?” 

“They picked their nail polish colors all by themselves,” Gretchen says. “Leo cried when she had to let go of the bottle, though. But we got cookies and everything was good then.” 

“Aww,” Cady chuckles. “Let me see, come here, Bee!” 

Leo runs over and does a spin, showing off her very fancy blue unicorn dress and sparkly blue nails. Layla has a matching dress, but her nails are red. 

“Woooow,” Cady says. “Did you pick these dresses, too?” 

“They might’ve had help,” Karen replies. “But mostly, yeah.” 

“Well, they’re lovely, good job,” Cady chuckles. Leo leaves for a second to go tug on Regina’s pocket. 

“Hi, honey, what do you need?” Regina asks. Leo does something with her hand, prompting Regina to look to Cady for an explanation. 

“She’s saying thank you, that’s sign language,” Cady replies. 

“Aww, you’re welcome!” Regina coos. Leo reaches for a hug from her aunties, so Regina hesitantly scoops her off the ground, unsure if this is the right course of action. Gretchen and Karen squish in on either side, making the baby giggle as she’s wrapped in a group hug. 

Gretchen shrieks when something else wraps around her leg, but upon looking down, discovers it to just be Layla trying to join. “Oh my god, Lala!” 

Layla waves when she looks down, as if she hasn’t just scared the wits out of all her aunties and her sister. Janis is laughing so hard she’s almost in tears watching the whole situation go down. 

Karen picks Layla up too, allowing her to join in the little love fest. None of them quite catch Cady sneaking a few pictures of the adorable scene. 

Leo wiggles her way down first, deciding she’s had enough and heading to show her mommy her new outfit and nails too. 

“Hi, Bee! What’s on your dress?” Janis grins, picking Leo up and resting her in her lap. She laughs as Leo makes a horse sound. “Yeah, I think that’s about what a unicorn would sound like. Can I see your nails?” 

Leo gently rests her tiny hand on top of her mommy’s, allowing Janis to inspect her glittery nail polish. Her hands and nails are still much too small to really be painted, but there’s neat blobs of blue on the end of each finger that work well enough. 

“That’s a very pretty color, you picked it all by yourself?” Janis asks, fluffing out the tutu on Leo’s dress with her other hand. Leo nods happily. “It’s so nice! Do you like it?” Another nod, and Leo gently taps her fingertip to make sure Janis is aware of the glitter. “I see, it’s sparkly! It’s perfect for the Fourth of July.” 

Cady sits down closer to them and leans into Janis’ shoulder, smiling at their daughter. “So… the Plastics got the two of us a hotel room for tonight. What do you think?” 

“Without them?” Janis asks in concern, looking at Leo. Cady nods. 

“Just for a night. Damian said he and Aaron would babysit.” 

“But…”

“We need a break, love,” Cady whispers. “We’ve only been away from them four times since they came home from the hospital.” 

“But I miss them,” Janis pouts. 

“I miss them too,” Cady says. “I love these two so much.” Leo giggles as she tickles her belly. “But I love you, too. And I miss having you to myself. Think of all we can do with a whole night.”

“Okay, yeah, we can go,” Janis says, seeming much more interested all of a sudden. Cady laughs. 

“That’s what I thought. I’ll go pack us a couple things.” 

—

The twins’ cribs get moved to Damian and Aaron’s room for the night, and Cady packs an overnight bag. With a quick cuddle, Janis and Cady leave with the Plastics while the babies are distracted. 

—————-

“Whoa,” Cady whispers as they walk into the lobby of their hotel. “Fancy.” 

“I fucking love having rich friends,” Janis says in delight. Cady thwacks her across the chest. “Ow.”

“Be polite,” Cady huffs. Janis pouts. “We’re not only friends with them for their money.”

“But it helps,” Janis says. Cady rolls her eyes and kisses her cheek. 

“You’re on thin ice.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“We’re alone for the night, keep at it and you might find out,” Cady hums casually. Janis flushes scarlet and looks at the ground with a flustered squeak. 

Cady gets them checked in and leads them to their room, and is immediately pinned to the very large bed by her wife. They’re both getting progressively more hot and bothered when there’s a knock at the door and Janis rolls off her with several mumbled profanities. 

Cady straightens her hair and clothes back out and answers the door, finding the Plastics on the other side. “Hey!” 

“Hey,” Karen replies. “We’re gonna go get dinner, do you wanna come?”

“No,” Janis pouts. 

“Sure,” Cady says at the same time, gently stomping on her wife’s foot. “Give us a second to get ready?”

“Take your time, they don’t even open for a while,” Gretchen says kindly. “Just not too much time, Janis.” 

“Hmph.” 

Cady closes the door and they both rush through putting on nicer clothes and doing their hair. Cady does some light makeup and kisses Janis on the cheek with a promise to continue their activities later, and they’re out the door. 

—-

“You guys are spoiling us,” Cady says as they sit across from the Plastics in their very nice booth in the dining room at their hotel. 

“We just haven’t seen much of you since the babies were born, we figured you might want a night off,” Gretchen says. “We’re glad you came.” 

“We are too,” Cady says. “We definitely need a break.”

“No we don’t,” Janis grumbles, still pouting about being so rudely interrupted. 

“Jay, my love,” Cady chuckles. “Those girls grew in me. I have the strongest connection to them out of anyone. And even I know they’re exhausting. We need a break every now and again, even if we miss them.” 

“But I miss them too much,” Janis whines. “I trust Damian and Aaron and all, but… they’re so little.” 

“And Damian understands that, he’s been around them enough to know what they need and want, they’ll be fine,” Cady comforts. “He’ll call if he needs us, but tonight is about us, come on.” 

Janis nods and takes a deep breath as she picks up their menu. Their waiter comes by to bring them their drinks and take their orders, and then they’re alone with the Plastics. 

“So tell us what’s been going on with you guys, I need gossip other than who has the worst behaved kid at daycare,” Cady says, leaning on the table and looking at their friends. 

“Actually, we did have… kind of an ulterior motive bringing you guys here,” Regina says. 

“Dude, you brought us to the nicest hotel in Illinois, an ulterior motive is the least of my worries right now,” Janis chuckles. 

“We’re getting married,” Gretchen says. Cady squeals excitedly and does a little tap dance under the table. “And we want to return the favor and have you guys as our maids of honor.”

“Of course!” Cady says. “Congratulations, oh my god! When did you get engaged?”

“We didn’t,” Karen says. Janis tips her head in confusion. “Not really. I just was like, ‘Hey, we should get married.’ and they said okay. And that was that.” 

“I mean, if it works,” Janis says with a chuckle. “Congratulations. Where are you doing it?” 

“Here,” Gretchen says rather sheepishly. “In October.”

“Did Karen pick that?” Cady giggles. Karen nods happily. “Cute!”

“We’re planning on a pretty big wedding, like, our whole extended families and everything,” Regina says. “That… understand us, anyway.” 

“That’ll be cool,” Janis says, understanding why Regina’s eyes have darkened a bit. Their food arrives then, and distracts them from the slightly heavy mood.

“So gimme all the details,” Cady says around a mouthful of carbonara. 

“Karen and I are the ones getting legally married,” Regina says. “For tax benefits.”

“Nice!” Janis laughs. “But the ceremony is for all of you?” 

They all nod. Gretchen says, “Kylie’s officiating, we’re just… adding another person to a pretty normal ceremony. And then Dylan is unfortunately our DJ for the reception.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Janis cheers, getting some dirty looks from the tables around them. She hunches in on herself in embarrassment. “Sorry.” 

“Nobody here cares, they just have to pretend to,” Regina shrugs with a chuckle. 

“Rich people,” Janis tuts under her breath. “Anyway, by here did you mean, like… here here?”

“Yeah. That was the ulterior motive, we wanted to check out some of the rooms and stuff beforehand,” Regina says. “And also try to bribe you guys into being our maids of honor.” 

“You don’t have to bribe us, we would absolutely have been anyway,” Cady says. She nudges Janis under the table in a ‘hush before I make you’ gesture before she can let out a disbelieving hum. 

“Doesn’t hurt though,” Regina replies teasingly. “Right, Janis?”

“Nothing! I mean, uh…” Janis says, obviously having zoned out and only hearing the last sentence. “What are we talking about?”

“Jay,” Cady says with a chuckle. “You’re a goof. Do you need a moment?”

“No, sorry. I was just… thinking about the girls again,” Janis mumbles sheepishly. Cady’s eyes soften in understanding and she leans in to give her wife a comforting kiss. 

“They’re gonna be okay, my love,” she whispers. “You know them. You know Damian. They’re perfectly fine.”

“I know,” Janis whispers back. “It’s just hard.”

“I know,” Cady says. She gently takes Janis’ hand under the table and gives a comforting squeeze. Janis squeezes back and shyly looks back to their company. 

“We get it,” Gretchen murmurs kindly. “It must be tough. Being away from them. We didn’t mean to drag you away if you didn’t want to come.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Janis says immediately. “You guys are right, we do need a break, it’s just…”

“They were premature,” Regina says with remarkable kindness and understanding. “You worry. If you’re not there you… can’t protect them. You have to trust someone else.”

“…Yeah.” 

“We get it,” Karen repeats. Janis gives them all a small, thankful grin and clears her throat. 

“Anyway, uh…” 

“Tell us how you guys got together again?” Cady interrupts, attempting to steer the conversation to a lighter topic. Janis gives her hand yet another thankful squeeze and takes another bite of her dinner. 

—————

Babies, unfortunately, only stay distracted for so long. Damian braces as Leo gets bored with her toys and stands up, wandering around to try to find her mothers. 

“Mee? Mee?” she calls in her squeaky little voice. “Mamamama?” 

“Your mommies left for the night, sweetheart,” Damian says gently. Leo turns to look at him. “They went bye-bye.” 

“Mamama?” Leo asks, as if to confirm they’re really not there. Damian nods, feeling his heart break as his niece’s lip starts to tremble and she falls to the ground in tears. She crawls to the front door, and starts crying harder when she notices there’s no car in the driveway. 

Damian goes to pick her up, closing the door and gently patting her back as she wails into his shoulder. 

“Mee!” she sobs desperately, pointing to the door. 

“Shh, I know,” Damian hushes gently. “They’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. They’d never leave you. You just get to spend the night with me and Uncle Aaron and then they’ll be back.” 

Leo wails again, weeping into his shoulder with more strength than Damian thought her little body could muster. 

“I know, I know, shh,” Damian says. He gently starts bouncing her up and down to soothe her and starts wandering around in a ditch attempt to get her to calm down. 

Eventually they make it to Aaron in the kitchen, where he’s making dinner. He’s well aware of their approach, since Leo’s crying can be heard from a mile away. 

“Have we been discovered?” Aaron asks his boyfriend. Damian nods and continues bouncing the baby. 

“She tried to find them and then noticed the car was gone,” he says. “She won’t calm down, I dunno what to do.” 

“I think she just needs to get it out,” Aaron says sadly. “A whole day without your moms is hard when that’s, like, a pretty significant portion of your life. She’s only one.” 

“But she’s so sad,” Damian pouts. “Makes me sad.”

“Just hold her,” Aaron says. “She’ll realize she’s okay soon.”

“Mmkay,” Damian says, gently hushing his niece. “Where’s your little… baby cork thingy.”

“Her what?”

“The… thingy,” Damian says, as if that clarifies anything. “That they suck on to stop crying.”

“Her pacifier?!” Aaron laughs. 

“Yeah!” 

“Baby cork,” Aaron tuts under his breath. “Check the other room.” 

Damian and Leo briefly disappear, and then return with Leo’s pacifier and Layla. 

“There!” Damian says. “No more crying and the other one isn’t dead.”

“Gold star, babe,” Aaron chuckles. “Dinner’s ready.” 

“What are we having?” 

“Butter noodles,” Aaron says. “I dunno how to feed babies, this seems like it probably won’t poison them.” 

“We just have to cut theirs up, I think,” Damian nods. “Sounds good, though, thanks honey.” 

Aaron helps wrangle the twins into their seats and gives each of them a bowl of the noodles, which have been cut into a safe size for their little mouths. He and Damian grab their own portions and sit across the table from them almost like a dinner date. 

Layla gets hers in her hair within thirty seconds, grabbing fistfuls of the mushy noodles and shoveling them in her face. Leo sits politely and doesn’t touch it. 

“What’s the matter, Leo?” Aaron asks. “You don’t want dinner?” Leo looks down at her bowl. “You wanna try some?” 

Leo hesitantly grabs a handful, squishing it between her fingers a bit and tasting it. She squeaks happily at the taste, but frowns at the texture coating her hand. Aaron quickly grabs a napkin when she holds her hand as far away from her body as she can and whimpers, before they have another tear fest on their hands. 

Leo looks at him in relief as he wipes the offensive pasta off her hand and thanks him in sign language. 

“You’re welcome, Lolo,” Aaron chuckles. “Come here, I’ll feed you. Little princess.” 

Leo seems much happier with this arrangement, sitting next to her uncle and accepting bites of her noodles off one of her baby forks. 

“She just wants to be clean, don’t judge her,” Damian says. “She’s like Caddy.”

“She really is,” Aaron agrees. He looks across the table to Layla, who seems to have gotten more pasta on her face than in her mouth and is wearing her bowl as a hat. “And that one’s Janis.” 

“Great,” Damian sighs. “Layla.” The baby grins impishly at him. “Don’t play cute, little missy. You made a mess.” 

“We probably should’ve fed both of them, to be fair,” Aaron laughs. “Can’t really expect a baby to eat by herself without making a mess. Do you want more, Lala?” 

Layla nods and does her sign for more, so Damian gently removes her hat and goes to get her another portion. 

“As much as I love your accessorizing, try to eat it this time instead of wearing it,” he says as he sets it on her tray. Layla grins again and digs back in. 

“Might be bath time after this,” Aaron hums. 

“Definitely.” 

—-

Layla is so covered in pasta by the end of dinner that a bath is an absolute necessity. Damian carries them up the stairs into Cady and Janis’ en suite and starts drawing them a bath. 

Aaron watches fondly from the counter as his boyfriend expertly keeps both babies in the tub and occupied while he washes their hair and scrubs them clean. It’s oddly domestic, in a nice way. 

He knows then that he’ll definitely be using the ring he brought before they leave.

—-

After bath time, the twins are lotioned and their hair is brushed before they’re zipped into their pajamas for the evening. 

They have a little bit of time before bedtime, so Damian turns on a movie and leaves them to play. Leo refuses to be put down with her twin, however, so she just cuddles with Damian and Aaron while they watch together. 

About fifteen minutes before it’s time for bed, Damian’s phone rings. Upon checking it, he finds it to be an incoming FaceTime call from Janis. Of course. 

“Hey, Jan,” he greets as he picks up. Janis looks very sheepish as she lies next to her wife on their very nice hotel bed. 

“Hi.”

“Couldn’t stay away?” Damian teases. Janis flushes further and nods. 

“They’re my babies, I miss them,” she pouts. 

“What are you guys up to?” Cady asks, leaning closer into her wife so she can see too.

“We’re watching a movie,” Damian replies, turning his camera around for a second to show that they’re watching Tangled. Layla makes an appearance as she toddles her way across the room. “Well, Leo and Aaron and I are. Layla’s exploring.” 

“Aww,” Janis chuckles. “Can we see them?” 

“Sure. Oh, Leo, what’s the matter, honey?” Damian says. Leo has tears in her eyes and gives a precious sniffle as she points to the TV before reaching for a hug. Damian looks to see they’ve reached the scene where Rapunzel is taken from her parents. “Oh, is the movie sad?” Leo nods. “Poor thing. Come here, you wanna say hi to your moms?” 

“Poor baby bee,” Cady coos sadly. “Hi, sweetheart! I miss you!” 

Leo perks up when she sees Janis and Cady on the screen and gives a delighted wave. Her moms both wave back and smile as she starts babbling about her adventures with her uncles. 

Layla comes running over when she hears their voices, crashing into the couch and falling backwards before Aaron picks her up and pops her next to her sister.

“Hi, Lala!” Janis laughs. “How are you, Ladybug?” 

Layla joins in the storytelling, eventually grabbing Damian’s phone from his hands to see better. Her mommy and mama are stuck in the screen, how can she get them out? 

Janis and Cady both laugh as they see her slide off the couch and start toddling around, still investigating the phone and telling them about her evening. Damian suddenly appears in the background with a teary Leo in his arms. “Layla, come back, honey! Leo wants to see your moms too!” 

“Oh, baby girls,” Janis says sadly when she sees the tears in Layla’s eyes as well. “We’ll be back tomorrow, it’s okay! We miss you too.” 

Layla accidentally hits the end call button and her mommies disappear. She looks at the phone in shock before she bursts into tears, toddling back to her uncle to show him the problem. She’s crying so hard she’s barely making sound, breathless with her desperate little sobs. 

“Oh no, did you hang up on them?” Damian asks sadly, pulling her into a hug. “We can call them back, it’s okay! Oh, lord, I hope it’s bedtime soon. Come here.” 

Damian returns to the couch and rests both very upset little ones on his lap. He brings Janis’ contact back up and gives her another call. She answers right away, seeming to know what happened the first time. 

“Oh no, baby loves,” Cady says sadly. Both babies stop crying when they hear her voice, and Damian visibly relaxes a bit. “What happened, sweethearts?” 

“Layla stole you guys and set this one off,” Damian explains, resting a gentle hand on Leo’s head. “And then she hung up on you by accident and got sad.” 

“Aww,” Janis hums sadly. “Poor things. Uncle Damian has you, you’re okay! Mama and I will be back tomorrow!” 

“Mee,” Leo says with a wave. 

“Hi, baby,” Janis chuckles. “Are you having fun with your uncles?” Leo nods. “Good. I miss you.” 

Damian lets the babies keep talking to their mothers for a while, holding the phone firmly in his hands to prevent any more incidents. Gradually, the babies start to slump down in his lap and their eyes grow heavy, and he decides to try ending the call for the night to put them to bed. 

“Give kisses, it’s bedtime for you little monkeys now,” he says gently. Each twin gives his phone a kiss and a wave goodnight. He thinks it’s gone well until he says goodnight himself and hangs up. Both of them immediately burst into tears yet again, reaching desperately for his phone. “Oh, this was a mistake.” 

—————

“See? They’re fine,” Cady says gently, lightly trailing her fingernails up and down Janis’ arm.  “They miss us too, but they’re safe. Damian and Aaron even gave them a bath. They haven’t been out of their sight since we left.” 

Janis takes a deep breath and nods, before rolling onto her side to face her wife and leaning in close for a kiss. Cady returns it, and hums into surprise when Janis sinks into it and tangles a hand in her hair. 

“We,” Janis murmurs in between kisses. “Have this whole room. This whole night. To ourselves. Don’t suppose you packed anything fun in that bag?”

“You know I did,” Cady gasps, grabbing her wife and pulling her back down.

“Tits.”

“I have those too.”

—————

Later that night, Damian is woken by a tearful, “Dedededede?” 

He opens his eyes expecting to see Leo calling for him, but is surprised to see Layla standing in her crib, cast in shadow and reaching out to him. 

“What happened, Layla?” he whispers, carefully climbing out of bed and heading over to see what the problem is. She has her pacifier and stuffed animal, and her favorite blankie. But she still whimpers and cuddles into his shoulder when he picks her up. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

Layla sniffles and wraps her little arms around him, clinging to him for comfort. Damian holds her in return and gently pats her back. 

“Come here, it’s okay. You can sleep with me and Uncle Aaron,” he offers. Layla whimpers again when he bends over to grab her things, thinking she’s about to be put back in her crib, but he gently hushes her once and she goes quiet. After a quick check to make sure Leo is still asleep, he carries his niece over to the bed and crawls in. 

Aaron rolls over in his sleep and tries to cuddle into him. He huffs in confusion when something blocks his way and pops an eye open. 

“That’s not ours,” he mumbles. “Why is she in our bed?” 

“She had a bad dream,” Damian defends, holding Layla closer. “She needs comfort.” 

“She can’t talk, how do you know she had a bad dream?” Aaron chuckles. 

“I just know,” Damian huffs. “Look at her, I couldn’t just leave her in there.” 

Layla, conveniently, rolls over, allowing Aaron to see her adorable little face as she clings to her stuffed elephant. 

“Aww,” Aaron whispers. “She looks so upset.” 

“See?” 

“Fine, she can stay,” Aaron chuckles. “Goodnight, Layla.” 

Layla waves, as close as she’s willing to get to a goodnight in her state. Aaron gently taps her elephant to get her attention. 

“Hey,” he whispers. Layla looks at him with an absolutely precious pout. “You’re safe, little one. Your moms will be back tomorrow, and Uncle Damian and I will protect you until then. We’ll keep all the bad dreams away, okay?” 

Layla sniffs and looks at him suspiciously. Aaron tucks her in a little tighter with her blankie and turns on the flashlight on his phone. Layla looks at the ceiling as he points upwards, rolling onto her back. Aaron props himself up on an elbow and holds his other hand over the light. 

“Look, it’s a bunny!” he says, making the shadow puppet bunny bounce around. “Or… maybe a doggy? Woof, woof!” 

Layla giggles quietly as the shadow dog barks. Aaron makes up a little story for her, and drags Damian into it when he needs more characters. Layla gradually drifts off to dreamland, her little head filled with her favorite animals instead of scary dreams. Aaron turns his light back off and rests his phone on his nightstand. 

“Do you have any idea how bad I want a baby with you now?” Damian whispers. “That was sickeningly adorable.” 

“You want kids?” Aaron replies in the same tone, rolling over carefully so he doesn’t wake the little one snoozing between them. 

“Yeah,” Damian replies. “At least one. Do you?” 

“Yeah. Sometime down the line, anyway.” Aaron says. “Did you know I’m adopted?” 

“No,” Damian says in slight shock. Aaron nods. 

“My birth mom was a teenager when she had me, and my bio dad wasn’t in the picture by the time I was born. She wanted me to have a better life, and stuff. That she… couldn’t provide. I was in the foster system until I was two,” he says. 

“Were your other siblings adopted too?” 

“Some of them,” Aaron nods. Damian was rather shocked to learn that Aaron is the youngest of seven children, and made several jokes about him being part of the Von Trapp family. “Ava, Owen, Alana, and I.” 

“Wow,” Damian says. “I had no idea.” 

“I didn’t think to tell you. They’re just… my family, you know? I don’t remember anything different,” Aaron whispers. “But I’ve always wanted to… pass it on, I guess. Adopt another kid. I don’t remember most of it, but I saw what the foster system did to my siblings. If I can stop that for one other kid, or at least help, then it’s worth it to me.” 

“I’ve always wanted to adopt too,” Damian says. “And thanks for telling me, now.” Aaron nods. 

“We’ll talk about this more later?” he whispers. “It’s two in the morning.” 

Damian nods with a grin. “Definitely.”

“Goodnight, honey,” Aaron whispers, carefully leaning across Layla to kiss his boyfriend. 

“Goodnight, babe,” Damian replies, kissing him back before he cuddles into the baby and drifts off to sleep. 

—————-

Janis and Cady get home around lunch time the next day, and follow the sounds of chaos to their daughters. 

Damian is evidently wrapping up bath time after some sort of fun activity. Leo is standing off to the side wrapped in her ducky towel while he finishes washing Layla’s hair. 

Janis sees this as a perfect opportunity to scare the wits out of her best friend. 

She starts tiptoeing into the room, preparing to attack, but she’s thwarted by a tiny gasp and a sweet little, “Hi Mommy!” 

Damian, Cady, and Janis all scream in delight and look at Leo, who’s peeking at Janis from under her duck hood. Leo jumps, startled by the sudden noise, and bursts into tears. 

“Oh no, baby girl,” Janis chuckles sadly. Leo toddles her way over for some comfort and cries into her shoulder. Janis picks her up and bounces her a little bit. “You just talked! I’m sorry we scared you, come here.” 

“Hi, my little ducky,” Cady murmurs, gently stroking the tears from Leo’s cheeks and kissing her forehead. “I missed you so much! And you’re talking so well, my big girl!” 

“Mama,” Leo sniffles, reaching a small hand out for Cady. 

“Oh, come here, sweetheart,” Cady says, smiling widely at her baby actually calling her Mama for the very first time. “Let’s go get you dressed, hm?” 

Janis kisses Leo’s cheek as Cady heads to their room. Layla is now wrapped in her froggy towel and comes running over to her. “Hi, Lala! I missed you soooo much! Did you have fun with Uncle Damian and Uncle Aaron?” 

Layla nods, and giggles as her mommy kisses her cheek before carrying her off to get dressed. Leo waves at her again as Cady pulls her shirt over her little head. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” Janis chuckles, waving back. Leo smiles and slides down to go find Damian again. “Well, that lasted long.” 

Damian comes back a few moments later with Leo. He sits down on the bed and holds his niece in his lap. “Okay, you can talk now. Say ‘uncle’.”

“Unca,” Leo parrots. Damian nods. 

“Close enough. Now say, ‘Damian’.”

“Dedede,” Leo replies. 

“Man,” Damian sighs. “How about Uncle D? Say uncle again.”

“Unca ‘gain,” Leo tries. Damian laughs and kisses her forehead. 

“Good job. Now say ‘D’.”

“Dee!” Leo crows happily. 

“Uncle D,” Damian coaches. 

“Unca Dee,” the baby echoes. Damian beams and tosses her in the air. 

“Yeah, that works. Okay, your mommies missed you, go say hi. We’ll play some more in a little bit.” 

Leo heads back to her family and wraps herself around Cady’s leg, sitting on her foot. 

“Hi, baby,” Cady chuckles. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Mama,” Leo explains. Cady nods slightly.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Leo shakes her head and cuddles into Cady’s shin. “No? Just gonna sit on my foot?”

Leo nods.

“Okay,” Cady giggles. “Hold on tight.” 

Leo laughs happily as Cady walks around, clinging to her mama’s leg and enjoying the ride. Cady laughs too, catching her other baby as she’s trying to crawl away from Janis as fast as she can in an attempt to escape getting dressed. 

Layla fusses as she’s captured and forced into some clothes, but she giggles as Janis tickles her belly and sets her down. 

“Man, what?” Cady says as Layla plops down on her other foot and holds on. 

“Cute boots,” Janis chuckles. 

“Thanks,” Cady grins back, striking a pose. “Made them myself.” Janis laughs and tries to pry one off her wife’s leg. They both absolutely refuse to let go. “Alright, come on.”

The babies both laugh as Cady attempts to walk downstairs, having to take swinging steps since she can’t really lift her feet. The stairs are a challenge, and she stops frequently to ensure they’re holding on tightly so they don’t fall off.

Cady looks down at her new shoes when they hit the bottom of the staircase. “You girls wanna go down to the beach?” They both nod. “Okay. Jay, can you grab the sunscreen?” 

“Yeah,” Janis says, grabbing it out of their beach bag and managing to pry a baby off of her wife. Layla fusses as she gets her sunscreen lotion put on, but she calms down when she gets to latch back to Cady’s leg and Leo is pried off. 

Once both babies and themselves are thoroughly protected from the sun, Janis grabs a blanket and her phone and opens the door for her wife. 

Very, very slowly, Cady shuffles her way down to the beach, holding hands with her wife and giving the occasional smile down at her daughters. Eventually, they make it, and Janis lies the blanket down on the sand. She sits on top of it, and Cady carefully eases herself down next to her. The babies finally release her legs and sit down on the blanket with them. 

“Here we go,” Cady says. “Gimme loves, bugs, I missed you so much!” 

Her daughters both grin and crawl over to give her cuddles. Cady smiles back and kisses all over their faces. 

“You know who I love most in the whole wide world?” Cady whispers, giving them even more kisses. “You,” she says, kissing Layla’s cheek. “And you,” she says, kissing Leo’s cheek. “And you.” She says, kissing Janis soundly. 

“I love you too,” Janis whispers against her wife’s lips. “And these two.” 

“You,” Leo says softly.

“What, Bee?” Janis says with a smile. 

“You,” Leo repeats. 

“What about me?” 

Leo huffs in frustration, trying to figure out how to explain what she doesn’t have the words for yet. She settles for cuddling closer into Cady with a sigh. 

“You love us too?” Cady asks quietly. 

Leo nods eagerly. “Luff you.” 

Janis blinks back tears, and hears a sniffle from her wife as she wraps herself around her family. 

“We love you so much,” Janis whispers. “So, so much.” 

They stay like that for the rest of the day. Damian drops off dinner for them, but nobody else intrudes on their day. Janis and Cady cuddle on their blanket while their daughters run to get some energy out, and they walk up and down the shore of the lake as the sun sets over it, hand in hand with the babies toddling between them. 

It’s a moment Cady and Janis will both remember forever.

—————

Three days later is the Fourth of July. Aaron grilled everyone cheeseburgers for lunch, and they spend the afternoon playing games on the beach and building sand sculptures along the shore. 

The fireworks show is just after sunset over the water, so everyone heads to change into more patriotic (and dry) clothing before they get going. 

“Look at my beautiful girls,” Janis says when Cady comes downstairs with the twins. Once they hit the bottom, she sets them down to go get Janis. “These outfits turned out perfect!” 

Leo grins happily as she makes it to her mommy and gets picked up. Janis laughs at her hairdo, one little ponytail on top of her head that turned out, ironically, like a little firework. Layla’s hair matches, but her ponytail has a blue bow on it while Leo’s is red. 

The bows came with their outfits, red and white striped onesies paired with blue shorts that Janis had insisted they buy because of, “The stupid little butt ruffles Caddy look!” but the little ones do look adorable. In spite of the butt ruffles. 

“Are you ready to go? We’re gonna go back to the beach to watch the fireworks,” Janis asks her babies as she holds them both. They both nod and smile as she kisses their cheeks. 

Cady kisses her wife and the top of each little head and heads upstairs to get herself ready, so Janis opens the back door and starts the short walk down to their friends. 

Aaron managed to get a fire going with exceptionally minimal help from Damian and the Plastics. Leo shrieks happily when she sees the bag of marshmallows they have to make s’mores with and wiggles to be put down so she can dig in. Layla, for once, is the one content to hang out on her mommy’s lap as Janis sits down in one of the empty seats. 

Cady comes down and finds the adorable scene of her wife and one of her daughters cuddling by the fire, while Regina reaches the other one how to make a s’more. Leo looks very concerned as her precious marshmallow is impaled on a stick and held over a fire. 

“Mama!” she squeaks happily when she notices Cady, making Cady’s heart melt again. She’s still not over her child actually being able to speak. 

“Hi, Lishy,” Cady says. “What are you doing?” 

Leo doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing, either. She simply points to the marshmallow she’s helping her auntie cook with a thoughtful look on her face. 

“I think it’s ready,” Regina says, pulling it back to examine it and finding it to be perfectly golden brown. “Yep.”

Leo watches as her marshmallow is squished between some yummy graham crackers and chocolate, and then her s’more is held in front of her mouth for her to taste. Hesitantly, she leans in and chomps down. 

She has to chew carefully, since she only has a grand total of five teeth, but her eyes widen and she looks as if she’s just tasted ambrosia. Everyone laughs as she grabs the rest of the s’more in her little hands and scrambles to take another bite. 

“Oh, we’re gonna have to watch you around sugar when you get older, aren’t we?” Cady giggles, leaning in to kiss a sticky cheek. “One of those five must be a sweet tooth.” 

Leo doesn’t answer, too occupied with her new favorite food to care about anything else. Regina just lets her have it and dig in, trying to pretend she doesn’t care about the sticky crumbs landing on her lap. 

Everyone gets temporarily distracted, until they hear a squeaky, “Mo’e? Mo’e?” and look back at Leo.

“You are that whole s’more?” Regina asks in shock, looking at the baby’s sticky little face. She checks the ground to make sure she didn’t drop it. 

“Mo’e?” Leo asks again, doing her sign too. 

“How big is your stomach?! That thing was, like, half your size!” 

“P’ease?” Leo begs, getting increasingly desperate. 

“Let’s cook you a hot dog, if you’re still hungry after some of that you can have more s’mores,” Cady says. Leo whines. “I know, I’m so mean. Come here.” 

“Mama,” Leo pleads. “Mo’e.” 

“You need real food first, baby,” Cady says lowly. Leo whines again and gives an unhappy wiggle. “Shh, I know.” 

“You want me to handle it?” Janis asks as Leo releases a very loud shriek for her size. Cady tries to keep a hold of the little tantrum tornado she has, to no avail. 

“You want to?”

“Does anyone?” Janis chuckles. “Come on, Bee.” 

Cady takes Layla as Janis takes Leo a bit further down the beach to handle the tantrum. “Hi, Bug.” 

“Lololo?” Layla asks in concern, looking at her mommy carrying her sister away. 

“She’s okay, baby love,” Cady says. “She’s just sad.” 

“Look at this, Layla,” Damian says, offering her a distraction in the form of a sparkler. “Hold it down here. Mama will help you.”

Cady carefully rests her hands on top of her baby’s to help her hold the sparkler, and Damian lights it for her. Layla looks at it in awe and shrieks excitedly. 

“Look at that, Ladybug, what is it?” Cady hums. She waves it around, bringing Layla’s arms with her. “What do you think?” 

Layla shrieks again, making everyone laugh. She continues staring at it until it hits the end and fizzles out. 

“Great, so I have a sugar fiend and a pyro,” Cady sighs. “You both really are like your mommy.”

“Just wait for the real fireworks,” Gretchen laughs. “Pyro’s heaven.” 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky,” Cady hums. “And you two will have a little bit more impulse control.” 

“Hopefully,” Damian hums under his breath. They all watch the fire for a while, before he looks up again and says, “Speak of the devil.”

Janis returns with a calmed baby, remarkably quick for their daughters’ tantrum standards. 

“Somebody,” she begins. “Learned a new word.”

“Uh oh,” Cady says. 

“A good word,” Janis huffs. “Come on.” 

Leo sheepishly heads to her mama when Janis sets her down. “Mama?”

“Yes, Leo?” Cady murmurs. 

“Sowwy,” Leo says quietly. “Sowwy, Mama.” 

Cady grins at Janis and pulls Leo onto her lap next to Layla. “I forgive you, baby. Thank you for apologizing. Let’s get you your hot dog.” 

Leo sniffles and settles in and watches as Cady starts cooking a hot dog for her and her sister to share. 

—-

There’s still a bit of time between dinner (and part of another s’more, somehow, in Leo’s case) and the fireworks show, so Cady sets the babies down to run and get their sugar high off. 

“Oh shoot, I left their headphones upstairs,” she says. 

“I got ‘em,” Janis says immediately. 

“Love, no, you-“

“Baby, it’s not a long walk back. Two minutes,” Janis says. “Not a problem.” 

“I’ll miss you,” Cady says. Janis laughs and bends to kiss her. 

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll be right back.” 

Cady watches as her little ones happily run up and down the beach, feeling the sand between their tiny toes as they work out how to use those chubby little legs. 

“Haha, hi!” she cheers when Leo crashes into her legs. “You’re so fast!” 

“Hi!” Leo replies happily. ‘Hi’ has rapidly become Leo’s favorite word. Someone always says it back.

“Hi!” Cady echoes. “Are you having fun?” 

“Fun!” Leo confirms. Cady laughs. 

“Good,” she hums. “Are you excited for the fireworks?” 

Leo tries to copy her again, but her newly speaking mouth can’t quite handle that many tricky syllables. So she just nods. 

“Good, they’ll start soon,” Cady chuckles. “Okay, go play, I’m right here.” 

Leo happily speeds off again, heading back to her sister to play something akin to tag. Cady giggles quietly as she hears Leo babbling, “Hi! Hi! Hi!” on her way back. 

Janis returns just before the fireworks start, sitting down next to her wife and watching their little ones toddle around in circles. “At least they’re entertained.” 

“Yeah,” Cady hums happily. The babies notice Janis is back and come running, but they’re interrupted by a flash of blue and a deafening boom over their heads. 

Both babies freeze and look up at the sky, watching to see if it happens again. A red one goes off this time, making Leo scream in fright and run back to her mothers. Layla watches it interestedly until the last sparkle fades and she continues her journey. 

She apparently was expecting that to be the end of it, because she jumps when another one goes off and yells, “Fuck!” 

Janis tenses, her eyes going wide as she looks at her wife. Cady has a terrified baby in her arms and her lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from laughing. 

“This is your fault,” she giggles, looking to her wife. “Go get her, she’s scared.” 

Janis nods, cheeks still a truly spectacular shade of scarlet, and goes to pick up her baby. “Ladybug, good talking, but don’t say that word.” 

“Fuck?” Layla asks. 

“Don’t say that,” Janis says. She feels bad scolding her baby for saying her first word, but… “That’s a grownup word.”

“Fuck!” Layla yells. 

“Hey!” Janis replies. “Oh, man, you need a new word. Um… how about Mama? Let’s go get Mama.” 

“Mama,” Layla says innocently, pointing to Cady. “Mama.” 

“Yeah, that’s Mama,” Janis sighs. “There she is.”

“Hi, baby love,” Cady laughs, gently shifting a still teary Leo over and taking her other daughter. “Are you talking too?” 

Layla nods. “Mama.” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Cady grins softly, kissing Layla’s little button nose. “Come here, let’s try these.” 

Cady takes the headphones Janis brought down with her and sizes them as small as they go before popping them on the twins. Leo pokes her face out from Cady’s shoulder when the scary loud noises stop. Layla giggles and holds on to the still too big headphones so they don’t fall off. 

Janis lays their blanket out over the sand, and smiles as her wife shifts to lay her head in her lap. Cady cradles a baby in each arm and smiles back at her wife. 

Janis spends more time looking at her family than the fireworks, watching the bright colors reflected in her babies’ eyes as they watch in awe and reminiscing about how far they’ve come in just a year. 

Last Fourth of July, the twins had only been out of the NICU for two weeks, and Cady was still deeply in the throes of postpartum depression. 

The fireworks had kept their newborns awake, and Cady had nearly snapped under the pressure. Janis barely managed to hold her together and convince her to take care of herself before they had a sleepover with the babies in their basement so the fireworks were muffled and everyone could finally rest. 

But now, a year later and with the help of counseling, Cady seems happier than ever, expertly comforting a frightened Leo and pointing to the fireworks as they go off and explaining the science behind all the different colors. 

Janis brushes the wispy hairs away from Cady’s forehead with a fond smile. Layla points to the sky with a, “Woooow!” and makes both of her moms laugh. 

“I know, look at that!” Cady says, matching their daughters’ excitement. She notices Janis staring at her then. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Janis murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady grins. “But you’re gonna miss them.” 

“Fine by me,” Janis chuckles. “I got three little firecrackers of my own.” 

“You’re such a dork,” Cady giggles. 

Janis does look up in time for the finale, but still knows it has nothing on the faces of her family. She has all the excitement and beauty she could ever want right in her lap. 

It’s far past the twins’ bedtime by the time the fireworks display ends, so Cady gently leaves them to snooze on the blanket under the watchful eyes of the Plastics while she takes a walk on the shore with her wife. 

Janis is confused when she suddenly drags her backwards a bit, leaps onto her back so she can’t move, and claps a hand over her mouth. 

“Caddy-mmph!” 

“Shh, don’t ruin it,” Cady says. Janis makes a confused sound against her hand. Cady points a bit further ahead, and Janis is suddenly grateful for the hand over her mouth. 

Aaron is on one knee, proposing to her best friend, illuminated by the moonlight and a pathetic little sparkler Damian has. They can’t make out the words being shared, which they don’t mind. It’s a private moment. 

What they can hear is Damian screaming,  “Yes!” loud enough to be heard on the other side of the lake and Aaron’s laughter as Damian takes the ring out of the box himself and shoves it onto his own finger. 

“Lovey, are you crying?” Cady giggles quietly. 

“No,” Janis sniffles. “I have sand in my eye,” 

“Uhhuh,” Cady hums. 

“…My best friend is engaged!” Janis sobs suddenly. 

“That’s what I thought,” Cady says. “Shh, love, they’ll hear us. Don’t ruin the moment for him. Let’s go get the smalls to bed, let him tell you on his own.” 

“Okay,” Janis snuffles. “Aaron better have picked a good ring.”

“I’m sure he did,” Cady comforts. “They treat each other well, he knows what he’s doing. Now come on.”

Janis continues sniveling as she carefully scoops up Leo, having to try to contain herself so she doesn’t wake her daughter. Cady grabs Layla and starts heading back inside. The Plastics gather everyone’s things and extinguish the fire before they follow them. 

Janis ever so carefully gets the twins changed into their pajamas and undoes their ponytails before she rests them in their cribs and bends to kiss them goodnight. 

“Jan!” Damian says, somehow whispering and shouting at the same time as he slams the door open. “Sorry! But. Jan!” 

“What?” Janis whispers, pretending like she doesn’t already know. Damian motions for her and Cady to follow him out to the hallway. They both do with matching, knowing, grins. 

“Aaron proposed!” Damian squeals as soon as the door clicks shut behind them, brandishing a hand to show off his ring. His friends both tackle him in a hug, knocking him into the far wall and then to the ground. “Janjan, why are you crying?”

“I just have a lot of feelings,” Janis snuffles into his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“Congratulations, Dame,” Cady says. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Cads,” Damian grins. Cady kisses them both on the cheek. 

“I’ll give you guys some time to talk,” she whispers. “Come to bed when you’re ready, my love.”

Janis nods and continues clinging to her best friend. They’re a trio, they have been since high school and always will be. But she and Damian will always have a special bond, and Cady has never tried or even wanted to intrude on that. 

“I love you,” Janis sobs. 

“I love you too, Jan,” Damian murmurs. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“Everything,” Janis whispers. “Everything you’ve ever done for me. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have the family I do without you. I wouldn’t… be here, without you. Thank you. I’m so happy for you. You deserve Aaron.” 

“Thanks, Jan,” Damian sniffles. They’re quiet for a moment, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional sniffle the other lets out. “You don’t have to be scared.” 

“I’m not!” Janis says, immediately defensive. Damian chuckles beneath her, and she crumbles. “How’d you know?”

“I know you,” Damian whispers. “It’s just like you and Caddy. No matter who comes into my life. Whatever family I have someday. I love them, but my heart always has room for you too.” 

“Platonic soulmates,” Janis whispers back. Damian nods against her shoulder. “Does this mean no more sleepovers?” 

“I mean, maybe not tonight,” Damian laughs. 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Sure, Jan.” 

Janis gives herself a reasonable amount of time to calm down before she pulls back and wipes her eyes. Damian grins at her and ruffles her already messy hair. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you too. Go get your fiancé.” 

“Go get your girls,” Damian grins, standing and reaching a hand to help Janis. “Goodnight, Jan.”

“‘Night, Dame,” Janis grins, heading into her room and shutting the door behind her. 

Janis is deep in thought as she checks on her daughters and crawls into bed next to her wife. Her definition of family has changed as she’s grown up.

But now she knows she has two. The one in this room, and the one in the other rooms. Biological and found. 

And as she drifts off to sleep in her wife’s embrace, she knows. 

Both her families are perfect for her. 

And they always will be.

————

tadaaaa hope you enjoyed 

kinda got away from me but anyhoo

happy pride month and have a great day my muppets!

lots of love,

ezzy

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[carolmaximoffs]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT OMFG i can’t believe so many of the coolest ppl in my life that i know are aquas. ily you’re NINETEEN that’s wild!! you know i love a good roommates or friends w benefits fic gimme gimme gimme 😗💜

a/n: THIS IS SO LATE AGH...here is your long overdue wanda x reader roommates fic, my love! so sorry for the wait, but thank you for your sweet words and your patience <3 @subtlebucky

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: none really? maybe a curse. references to drinking, partying. jealous! reader. apologies to anyone named jillian, beck, or yasmine. sharing a bed, but not in THAT way. 

WHEN YOU WAKE UP, you smell coffee already brewing. You stretch leisurely as you pad into the main part of your shared apartment, faux-flirtatious smile already gracing your lips.

“Smells good, baby!” You call. The laughter dissipates from your body as you pause in the kitchen doorway. Wanda is indeed sipping coffee in the kitchen, but is also standing between the legs of a tall, rather buff girl you’ve never seen before who’s perched comfortably on your island. “Oh.”

"Jill, this is my roommate, Y/N," Wanda says, perfectly at ease. You wonder if your eye really does twitch at the sight of Wanda's hand on Jill's thigh, but you pray it's just your imagination.

“Hi, uh, I didn’t - we’re not - hi.” Your face burns as you duck past them, reaching up into the cabinet for your mug before realizing it’s missing. You whirl around, about to ask Wanda, when you see it. And Wanda must realize it the same time you do, because she gives you this tight smile and wide eyes. Jill sips idly from your favorite cup, the one with the funny handle and your initial in rainbow gradient. Pietro, Wanda’s brother, had gifted it to you a few Christmas’s back - you know he’d have stopped Jillian from using it. Instead, you fill the most boring mug you and Wanda own - black, with a white outline of Sokovia in a red heart - and send your roommate a sour look. “I’ll just...”

You jerk your head towards the bedrooms, and stalk off. Maybe out of embarrassment, but mostly out of stubbornness, you pretend not to hear Wanda apologizing and making excuses on your behalf as you leave.

.......

Two weeks later, just when things are returning to normal, it happens again.

Well, more or less. It’s significantly darker out now, and this time you’re putting leftover Chinese food in the fridge when the door bursts open. Wanda all but falls into your apartment, a sharp-nosed girl with a deep violet buzzcut hot on her heels. Space Army Cadet and your best friend are hand in hand, the latter barely tossing you a glance as she drags her guest down the hall. And yeah, you’ve seen Wanda bring people home before - even brought a handful of people home yourself. Hell, one of you two’s closest friends was an ex of hers; oddball physics major, Vis, had been Wanda’s lover for the notable first three years of college.

 Lately, though, you’d noticed this...pit in your stomach, carved a little deeper with each new bedmate. Every time you shook it off - it wasn’t any of your business what Wanda did in her free time. Was it because they were women? You catch yourself wondering, but no - you’d never had an issue with that, why would you start now? Shutting the fridge, you shuffle back to your room, turning your TV up to drown out anything from Wanda’s room next door.

The next morning, the eccentric friend is nowhere to be found, but you did find there was a severe lack of alcohol in your coffee as Wanda cheerily filled you in. Buzzcut’s name was Yasmine, she was in Wanda’s European lit. course, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate Yasmine nearing the acquirement of her masters. You stare into your cup and hum at all the appropriate points, choosing not to point out that it was only November and nowhere near graduating season. Maybe Yasmine was on the fast track - Wanda always did like the smart ones. 

You become so absorbed in thought you don’t notice at first that your housemate has stopped chittering away. When you look up, it’s to a pouty frown. You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “What?”

“Are you...okay?” Wanda’s frown deepens, brows furrowed as she brushes a stray lock of auburn from her face and folds her arms over her chest. “We...You’ve been a little distant lately, I guess.” 

“I’m fine,” You say breezily, rising to your feet to dump the dregs of your coffee in the sink. Some irritating heartstring twangs at your tone - you hate brushing Wanda off, but what are you supposed to say? Hey, can you stop bringing girls home? I think I’ve caught homophobia. You repress a shudder at the mere thought as you move to sweep past her and get ready for your first class, but a small hand curls around your bicep.

“Just...don’t be a stranger, okay, kedvesem?” Darling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, feeling curiously parched, you can only nod. Wanda lets go, but you can feel her fingerprints burning like a brand even when you’re lying in bed that night.

.....

The holidays go off more or less without a hitch; there’s a very scary hiccup shortly before Christmas when you come home to find Wanda curled into Vision’s side on the couch, the pair of them sharing a blanket. But Wanda looks...as if she’s been crying? Love Actually is playing, Wanda’s go to Christmas comfort movie, and Vision is texting someone called ‘Peter M.’ with an alarming number of heart emojis, so you continue onward. 

Your subconscious must be looking out for you otherwise, because it’s not until New Year’s that you see Wanda with a mystery lover. Actually, you don’t see much of Wanda at all outside of Christmas, and even when you do, it’s always just the two of you at home. Of course, because of this, she insists on dragging you out for a New Year’s party. When her twin, Pietro, gangs up on you via Facetime, you give up arguing and steal a shimmery black slip from Wanda’s closet before flipping them the bird. 

Pietro arrives around 10 to pick the pair of you up, obnoxiously laying on the horn outside of your apartment building. Wanda trips several times as she tries to shove on her other heel and put lipstick on at the same time. Making it out the door is a whole other ordeal - after a short spat about Wanda needing a jacket, an awkward moment when the elevator doors open on some neighbors practicing for midnight, and finding Pietro just about to buzz in to get you, you and Wanda are sliding into the backseat of Pietro’s obnoxiously cramped sports car.

“Ladies, your prince, or princess, awaits!” Pietro announces grandly as you pull up to a shabby loft just a few blocks away. You can hear the music from the street, sighing inwardly as you force yourself to get out of the car. Wanda smooths out her flowy black pants - you keep your eyes trained politely above her shoulders to ignore the fitted, maroon sequined top with the plunging V-neck she’s paired with them. 

“I’m actually meeting someone here,” She says casually to her brother as the three of you make your way in. Pietro waves her off with well-wishes, but throws you a questioning glance. All he gets however is a shrug in reply, this is certainly news to you. He accompanies you to the makeshift bar where you fill a cup with copious amounts of liquor. It usually wasn’t your vice, but the strobe lights alone could be cause to drink. You made a mental note to ask whose idea this party even was in the first place. when you turn around, though, Pietro, too, has slipped off into the crowd.

So you do what one is supposed to do at sweaty, too-loud functions such as this one - push yourself from your comfort zone, get comfortably tipsy while you wedge yourself into the mass of bodies and move with strangers. As mentioned, liquor and strangers have never been favorite pastimes of yours, so once you finish off your second drink (maybe third - you deserved it), you set out searching for Wanda. Her glittery form is tucked into a corner with a small group you don’t recognize, but you definitely note that she’s in the lap of a tall, dark, and handsome type. She spots you before you can get to her, making excited grabby hands as you get closer. 

“Y/N!” The bubbly young woman squeals over the music. She leans forward to be heard better, and you gulp. “This is Beck! And Jade, and Marcie, and you remember Yasmine!” 

You offer only a wave and tight smiles as you, too, lean in further. “I’m gonna get an Uber!”

“What?” Wanda pouts dramatically, Beck snaking an arm around her waist to steady her as she jolts back in disappointment. “It’s not even midnight yet!”

“No, I know, I’m just not really feeling it, I guess!” Yasmine leads over to whisper something to Jade; it’s the furthest thing from your mind as Wanda reaches out to squeeze your hands understandingly. 

“I’ll see you later! Kisses!” You repeat the word weakly before shoving once more through the mass. The sidewalk and cool bite of the outdoors is a welcome respite - your driver doesn’t speak all the way to your apartment, and you give them 5 stars for it. After a cold, quick shower, you curl up in your fuzziest bathrobe with a cup of coffee and flick through Netflix. You know when midnight rolls around when the neighbors upstairs, hosting a party of their own, cheer and shout to each other. It can’t be 20 minutes later that your door is met with a tentative knock.

On the other side is Vision in the most disarray you’ve seen him in - he’s in pajamas, for Pete’s sake, hair and glasses askew over a chunky knit sweater. He’s supporting an equally-bleary but much more drunk Wanda, and passes her to you with a wrinkled nose.

“Y/N!” She crows, dissolving into giggles as you shushed her. “I wondered where you went.” 

“I told you I was coming home, bubs,” You mutter, hugging her back briefly before you notice Vision is still standing in your entryway. “Hey, how about you go get changed, and then I’ll make you some eggs?”

Wanda agrees, talking animatedly even as she walks away. You look back at Vision, smiling wearily. “Thanks for bringing her home safe, Vis. Did you want a cup of coffee, or...?”

“No, thank you,” Vision quips, polite as ever as he tugs his sweater down over his hands. He jerks his dimpled chin the direction Wanda had disappeared in. “Take care of her, please.”

“Of course,” You reply, instantly, brows furrowing. He nods briskly before turning to leave. “Thank you again.”

“Of course. Goodnight.” He’s almost to the elevators when you call a ‘Happy New Year’ after him, and that earns you a smile. “Happy New Year to you as well, Y/N.”

Back inside, you find Wanda spread eagle on her bed in mismatched socks, an old college hoodie, and the same underwear you’re pretty sure she wore to go out tonight. You poke her heel and she makes a frankly unhuman gurgle into the duvet. “How much did you have?”

“Nah a lah,” Is her muffled reply. “We’on dwink anymo’.” 

You realize she’s right, though you figured she was at least taking some of those dates to bars. Maybe not, though - Wanda was always a romantic. You push the mere though away and tug at the arm closest to you. “Yeah, I know. You’ll feel better if you eat something, though.” 

Her protesting grunts are less effective than when she kicks out blindly, narrowly avoiding your hip, and you huff. “Fine, I’ll bring the food to you.”  You make to leave, but she’s captured your wrist now. Wanda turns her head to make powerful puppy eyes at you. “Stay. Sleepy.” 

“I...yeah. Okay.” You were still a little tipsy in your own right - neither of you were college kids anymore, after all. Wanda’s smile was blinding as the pair of you made your way under her numerous layers of blankets. When she turned the lamp off, you wondered if she could hear your heart thundering in the dark.

“Y/N?” She whispers, just when you think she’s fallen asleep. 

“Yes, Wanda?” 

“I love you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, brushing it off as dreaming.

--------

Midday, you’re roused by someone laying across your stomach and shaking you awake. It’s Wanda, long lashes fluttering prettily as she rests her chin on folded elbows. You scrub sleep from your eyes as you croak, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, Y/N.” She says your name with purpose - sort of always has, you realize. You’re running over last night in your head, and like a mind reader, Wanda answers your every question. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Still love you.” Wanda murmurs. You meet her gaze - completely clear, if not a little glazed over with absolute adoration. She pushes up a little, lips hovering over yours. They brush just barely when you speak, sparking like live wires. 

“I love you, too,” You breathe, and finally, finally, she kisses you. 

Things make so, so much more sense then.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Quiver (bbh)

Summary: You meet a man who seems to know nearly everything about you, save your name.

As with nearly every Baek fic I write, for @illneverrecover! Although she actually paid me for this one hahaha

Also thank you to my sister for betaing and making my gorgeous banner!

Warnings: angst, violence and death tw, unprotected sex, outdoors sex, oral sex (f. receiving), this is more soft and sad than horny tbh

Word Count: 10,219

Deja vu is something you don't feel very often, and so when it washes over you in a wave that leaves goosebumps on your flesh, you look around.

You're not sure what you're looking for, but you feel that when you find it, you'll know.

Your eyes fall on a man sitting at a table, looking down at a book. His hair is slicked back but with pieces falling into his face, and as if he knows you're staring, he looks up at you.

He has the warmest brown eyes, and something like a shock shoots through your heart. Your feet are moving before you realize it.

"Have we met before?"

He smiles, and your heart flutters.

"Maybe in another life."

His name, it turns out, is Baekhyun, and he works at some investment firm you've never heard of but it doesn't matter because he has the most endearing way of smiling at you while you're speaking to him.

You assume he has money because the car he leads you to is nice, not ridiculously so but expensive to upkeep, a foreign model that's sleek and your favorite color: red.

"Why red?" You ask, sliding into the leather seat of this stranger's car because you just know he's safe, somewhere in you.

He gives you that half smile again, the one that gives you something akin to deja vu.

"Reminds me of someone."

You wonder if you might fuck him on the first date, if coffee even counts as a first date, and it's the first time you've ever done that but when he makes you tea and you lean against his kitchen counter he gives you this look. It's like there's something dark and deep in his brown eyes, something both flirty and almost darkly lustful.

It makes your heart flip. It makes your body tingle. It makes you a little afraid.

But you've never been one to run from fear, especially when it's all wrapped up with excitement and lust.

When you're sitting on his couch and sipping tea he's swiveled his body toward you just slightly, open and inviting, but he doesn't make a move, just watches you, listens as you fill the silence, laughs when you make a face when you pick up his tea instead of yours, which is bitter and devoid of the sugar you love.

You make the first move, in fact, end up clutching at his shirt as you kiss his mouth over and over because it feels soft and his tongue is hot and it feels familiar.

His hands skate up your sides once, above your shirt, and then again, under it, and that feels familiar too, long fingers on your flesh.

"You haven't met your soulmate yet," the tarot reader said. You and a friend had visited her a few years ago, when you were half drunk at a carnival.

"At least," she'd continued, "not in this lifetime."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" You ask, two weeks later when you've spent almost all

your free time with him, and most of it in his bed.

"Maybe in your dreams," he'd quipped, and you elbow him but he's already spooning you and you're too half asleep to do much damage.

"Always in mine," he says, softly, just as you're drifting to sleep, and you can't pry your eyes open long enough to ask what that means.

You start a fling of sorts with this mysterious man, and for the most part, you’re happy. But then you start having these dreams.

Sometimes, there’s fire on a wall in front of you and when you turn around it’s behind you, too.

You can feel your skin burning and you can barely breathe when you wake.

Sometimes there’s thunder booming all around you, lightning that streaks across the sky and you’re running and running toward someone, a man with warm brown eyes, but you can’t get there and when you look down you’re running in water up to your waist.

Always, he’s there. You suppose it’s because you and Baekhyun have been spending so much time together, that he’s in your head all the time as much as you hate to admit it.

Finally, he’s next to you in bed when you bolt upright, frightened by the thunder because it’s one of those fire dreams, one where you can feel the flesh on your arms crinkling, and it burns burns burns until it doesn’t, until you feel so cold you wake up shivering.

You’re afraid and disoriented and the dream all comes out in a rush — you tell him everything, small details about how you’re clutching a rosary in one hand, how the baubles on it popped n the flames, and he puts his arms around you, lets you bury your face in his chest as your heart rate slows down.

“Your name was Eva, then,” he murmurs, so quietly you’d think you were still dreaming.

Something about it rings true. You wonder if you’d heard that in the dream and told him still half asleep, so you nod against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck after pulling you into his lap and it’s so mournful it almost frightens you.

“You can’t help my dreams,” you say playfully, trying to forget it, and he gives you the saddest smile.

“No, not those.”

You keep having those dreams, and they get more and more detailed and sometimes your name is Eva and sometimes it’s Yui and sometimes it’s Sarabeth and they’re all different, you look different, but you always feel how it ends.

And Baekhyun is always there. He looks the same, unlike you, and sometimes he’s your enemy, sometimes he’s your friend but most of the time, he’s your lover.

The dream that finally makes you confront him goes like this.

Your name is Angelica and your father was royalty but you’re just a bastard, your mother a commoner, a servant of the crown.

Once you’re old enough to have his eyes, you have to stay hidden like some fairy tale princess. Except you’re no princess in your dusty cabin, and you learn to hunt small game so that your mother doesn’t have to steal so much from the castle. It’s good that you learn, because your mother stops coming to the cabin and you learn that the plague has taken her.

The plague has taken nearly everyone, and you haven’t seen another person in months when you happen upon a man.

You have your bow drawn before he ever sees you, the string (made of rabbit sinew because it’s all you had, the bow made of oak that you’d chopped yourself) and arrow pointed straight and true.

He shifts, turns around and you hesitate just a moment when you catch his gaze, something familiar in his deep brown eyes. It’s long enough for him to draw his own bow, and he’s quick, quicker than you are, so you let your arrow fly.

His arrow flies a second after yours and they meet in the space between you, shredding each other in two.

You’d thought, then, that it was an omen.

Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You’d run back to the cabin and locked yourself in, but he’d followed you.

A few hours later, he knocked on the door and your heart started to race. Your mother had warned you what men could do to an unattended woman.

There was nothing else, though, and you waited half an hour to open the door.

A basket is sitting on the doorstep, and it contains dried meat and fresh cherries and peaches.

You hadn’t had fruit in years. There’s also a small bouquet of flowers, filled with dandelion fluff and baby’s breath, a few blossoms of lavender. It smells lovely.

You take your time eating the peaches, they have the sweetest juice that you let run down your chin like a child.

It’s been so long since you’ve eaten well that you overdo it and your stomach feels tied in a knot, but you’re smiling when you fall asleep that night, for what feels like the first time.

There’s another basket at the end of the week but he’s standing on the doorstep with it, smiling.

“Maiden, I was wondering if you had any water?”

“Will you draw your bow again when I turn my back?” You ask, wary, and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“You drew yours first, maiden. I was surprised. The plague has taken so many it seems like I’m the only one left in all the world.”

He doesn’t look intimidating, doesn’t look as if he’s about to rush you, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a strange man into your home, so you sit on the doorstep with him and eat the peaches he’d brought.

He watches the juice drip down your fingers, how you lick it off, with something in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

You sit and chat for a while, still wary, but he keeps looking at you like that, and you wonder if this is what it feels like, if this is what is to be wanted.

Three days and three dinners of peaches and dried meat later, you let him inside for a glass of water drawn from the well out back.

He drinks it down like he’s been thirsty for days, and you feel guilty for not letting him in earlier.

The way he licks his lips when he’s done makes something flutter inside your stomach and you put a hand there, low, almost on your pubic bone.

He watches every move you make, this mystery man who doesn’t have a hint of facial hair despite living in the woods, watches where you place your hands and fingers, how you move your mouth. He watches you as if you’re something fascinating, like watching fire burn wood down to embers.

When you were young, your mother took you to the Maypole festival, and all the children had been given these long sticks to dip in the fire, to twirl them around and make shapes in the night sky. You’d done it over and over until the stick was burned down too far and even then, you tried to dip it and burned your wrist.

He looks at you like you’d looked at the shapes you’d made with the lit stick. With wonder.

The first time he touches you it feels like the first time you’d felt warm water on your skin as a child, warmed on the fire with an iron pot, your mother spooning it over you slowly.

He touches you that way, slowly, murmuring bits of your name and it slides off his tongue like honey.

“Angelica. Angel,” he murmurs, right at the shell of your ear, and your bones seem to turn to jelly as you melt into him, your back against his chest.

Your mother had told you that one day you’d have a lover.

“Not a king,” she’d said, “but something more.”

You’d asked her what’s more than a king and she’d only smiled, held a finger to her lips as if the two of you shared a secret.

You did, your secret was that you existed, that your father was who he was and that your mother wasn’t his queen, at least not in name.

You tremble underneath his hands and when he turns you around, presses his mouth to yours, he does it slowly. You’re the one who grabs the back of his head, threads your fingers through the long hair at the nape of his neck, wanting him closer, so close, wanting to burrow inside him and live there because you’re aching for him all over and you don’t know what it means.

“Let me call you by your name,” you plead when he’s kneeling before you, pulling down your underclothes, spreading the curls at your core where you’re hot and aching and wet.

He shakes his head. “I have too many names.”

“Tell me one of them,” you beg.

He doesn’t answer, presses his mouth to your cunt and you gasp, tugging his hair hard and he makes a low groan, throat exposed, that makes something come awake in your lower stomach, something somehow both like fire and honey, hot and slow and sweet.

“Give me your name,” you demand.

One corner of his mouth turns up.

“My name is Love,” he tells you, and presses his face back into your cunt, inhales like he loves the scent of you, his hands spreading apart your thighs so roughly that you brace your hands on the table behind you.

It isn’t a name you’d heard any man to have, but maybe he isn’t a man, maybe he’s one of the fae your Irish born mother told you stories about when you were a girl.

Maybe that’s the something more your mother told you about your future lover after reading your palm when you were sixteen.

You hunt together, and you’re in awe of how quick he is with his bow, how he shoots straight through the heart of even the smallest animals, voles and rabbits that you roast over the fire and feast on while he tells you wild tales about his brothers and sisters.

One rules the sea, he tells you, with a magic trident. One makes lightning bolts for his father deep underground where there’s fire so hot it melts rock and stone.

You’re fascinated, sit for hours just watching his mouth as he speaks and sometimes you vault into his lap mid sentence, silence him with your mouth on his because you want want want.

Your mother had told you many things about your future lover, about how you should be demure just like a man wants, but you can’t even try, not with him. Not with your mysterious, many named, no named lover, because he presses your nails deep into his chest when you straddle his hips, hisses when you leave bite marks along his throat and collarbone.

You pretend to be demure sometimes, if only to make him frown, to make him throw you down on your bedclothes roughly, to bite your lip bloody.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have talons, angel,” he growled, and you can’t help the way you laugh loud and open, even with your legs spread wantonly.

Physical love isn’t at all like your mother had described it, and you wonder if she’d only ever been with the king, with a man who cared so little for his paramours that he’d allowed your mother to die alone in the slums, locking her out from the castle so that his heirs might live.

It isn’t something that you lie down and take the way your mother must have, sometimes it’s animalistic, feral like you’d seen horses mate at the castle’s stables when you were young.

You present yourself on all fours and he slides his hands down your ass, grabs the flesh there to part you, presses his face into your cunt until your thighs are shaking. It’s not love that you feel during those times, not exactly, more like that want want want that you feel so often with him.

Your breath catches when he pulls your hair, wraps it around his fist so that your back arches, so that you twist to look at him. Later, when you’re both sweaty and sated, that’s when the love comes, loud and blooming in your chest as he kisses the fingerprint bruises he’s left on your hips, his fingers gentle on your sensitive skin until your breath slows.

Love is a thing that blooms, you would write if you’d ever been taught how. Love is my man’s name and it’s blooming in me like spring flowers.

You go for walks to gather berries because you’re too busy fucking to hunt and you can get by on a few more fruits and you don’t want to wake him. Once you’d brought home rose petals for tea and a piece of a honey comb that had made his eyes light up.

He’d spread the honey across your nipples, suckled and nipped there until you were sore, and one day, you want that again, especially the way his brown eyes sparkled when he’d seen it.

You have a way with the bees, after all, a way of singing high and sweet that makes them buzz around you slowly instead of angrily.

You’re halfway down the path before you realize you’ve left your quiver and bow. Love (both the man and the feeling) makes you feel stupid, heady and slow, and you pause for a moment, wondering if you should turn back.

Instead, you head forward because it’ll be sunset soon and you won’t be able to find that tree, the one with the beehive and honeycomb that your man loves so much.

It happens so quickly it feels like an instant. You step out from the bushes after gathering some blackberries, so juicy they’ve stained your fingers, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground. When you try to stand, you can’t, a pain blooming (a lot like love) through your stomach and you’re sure there weren’t any raspberries so what’s this red spreading out onto the ground?

You see your man’s boots, barely laced, before you see his face and someone behind you is stuttering but you hear the swish of your lover’s arrow, a choked, gurgling sound and then he’s knelt down at your side.

“Angel, angel,” he whispers, and he’s crying and you want to tell him not to because it makes you afraid.

What’s happened? What’s wrong?

You don’t realize you’re not actually speaking until he cradles your face, lies down in the dirt to face you, and everything but his touch, his eyes, seems far away and unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I need you to remember. When next we meet, remember my name.”

You want to. You want to remember everything about him but you’re sure that you’re floating away now.

“Baekhyun,” he tells you. “My name will be Baekhyun.”

As an immortal, it's hard to remember every moment. Years and decades blur together. The only moments Baekhyun can call to mind in perfect recall are the first times he's seen you

For a while, he’d thought Rome might be the worst lifetime he’d ever have.

He knows what he’s supposed to do, knows it’s his job, but he can barely ever bring himself to do it.

In Rome, you’re excited, young, bouncing around with your hair braided. Fire red, always red, always as fiery as your personality. “Eros, right? God of love.”

He’d smiled, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. “You think I’m a god? I’m flattered.”

You scoff, swirl your dress around as you turn, speaking with your hands as always and his heart aches with how familiar it all is. “Don’t think that means you’re special.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Means that you’re here to help me fall in love.”

“Is that so?” He can’t stop smiling at you, despite knowing what will inevitably happen next.

“Mmhm.” You’d taken his hand, flipped your braid over to the other side of your shoulder. He always tries. He always tries, gods damn it, damn his father and his brothers and sisters, he tries.

But there’s always this moment, where you take his hand, or brush your knuckles against his lips just so, or you just look at him up under your lashes, and the arrow he’s supposed to be aiming feels like it goes straight through his heart.

“I have someone in mind.”

It’s like the arrow in his heart twists, and gods know his arrows have always been true and fatal.

Your smile is so bright, and his heart is so full but it hurts at the same time and what a curse this is, to be able to fall in love with you so easily but have you fall for someone else just as fast.

He tells himself that he won’t try to change your mind, that he won’t let himself get close to you as you go on this search for your true mate.

You’d been childhood sweethearts, you and your match, but he’s been called away to war and you’ve been in mourning ever since.

He’s a god, but he is the god of love, after all, and with all your heart you believed that you loved another. He tells himself he’s doing the right thing… for the third time.

The first time, when it had all started, he’d fallen in love with you and seduced you and you’d forgotten all about your true match and it had all ended in fire and blood.

In Rome, in your third lifetime, he tells himself he won’t let that happen again. So when you put your hand on his thigh when you crouch down to drink on your journey, he wills his skin not to heat and his heart not to skip.

Three weeks in and you’re exhausted, your feet are swollen and bleeding from all the walking and you slide into his furs instead of your own, press your face against his chest.

“Maybe he’s gone,” you say, quietly, and Baekhyun is as still as death, telling himself he doesn’t want to lean down to kiss you, to tell you that it doesn’t matter where your sweetheart is because he’s here and ready and he wants you more than anything.

“We’ll find him,” he promises, and it’s a promise he keeps, even when you press your mouth to his and he takes it, this small comfort, until you fall into a fitful sleep.

Greece was bittersweet, because you found your match in the end and Baekhyun shot his arrow hoping that he’d miss. But his arrow was true, shot straight into the heart of your paramore.

You found your true match, fell in love, had children, and Baekhyun could have gone. Could have sailed away at sea, gone anywhere in the world. But even in Greece he’d spent three lifetimes with you (in one way or another) and he can’t bring himself to be more than a few miles away from you.

Instead, he’d watch you playing with your daughter in the garden, watch you kiss your husband, laughing into his mouth when he picked you up.

He watched you grow old, have grandchildren, plant roses that still never bloomed. You were never a gardener, no matter how you tried. It’s odd, how happy he feels for you, and how his heart clenches in his chest, how hard he wishes it were him.

He would never grow old, and he would never have you more than a few fleeting weeks, months, once even two wonderful years. Eros is love, and love isn’t supposed to fall in love.

So when he did, all those years ago, his father cursed him to find your match, over and over and over. It was you then and it’s you in Greece and Rome and England and Portugal and a thousand other countries that didn’t even have names when he’d met you there.

He’d thought Greece would be the worst because of the longing, because of the jealousy that brewed vile in the back of his throat, but Rome was much worse.

The Church ruled everything and at first Baekhyun thought that was normal. After all, when he was young he and his family had ruled everything. These are just different gods, although perhaps harsher ones.

They called you a harlot because of the fire red of your hair, the way you wore dresses slit up to your hip, the way you'd laugh if someone asked the last time you'd gone to confession.

"You should go to Mass," he'd warned with a lock of that fire red hair slipping through his fingers.

You'd smiled at him. "Why's that, lover? You want to hear my confession?"

He tugs your hair, exposing your throat as you let out a raspy moan, grinding against his thigh.

"What have you to confess, stellina?”

(Of all the languages and all the pet names he'd called you, stellina is his favorite, translates to star, and you burn so bright and beautiful it breaks his heart.)

"Impure thoughts," you muse. "Fornication before marriage.”

You pause. "This might take some time, amore."

You slide down under the linen, leaving open mouthed kisses and nips on his hip bones and thighs, and he forgets what he was going to warn you about.

(He loves any term you call him, in Spain mi corazon, in England love, in German liebling. But his true favorite is when you learn his name, his true name.)

You die fighting, that lifetime, clawing at the priests who’ve decided a witch needs baptism, holding you under the water until you finally stop, your nails broken and bloody.

Baekhyun finds you there, hours too late because he’d been sleeping off the night before, when he’d warned you about Mass, when you’d both stayed up all night, love talk and making love and a good deal of fucking, too, and he hates himself.

Hates that even though he is what he is, he needs sleep and food and water. He hates himself when he lifts you up, your fire red hair darkened by the water, hates himself when he kisses your bloody nails one by one and buries you behind the garden where you used to plant roses that never bloomed.

He hates himself most because it never gets easier, seeing you die, never gets easier knowing that he can’t, that he’s cursed to do this over and over.

In 1402, in Malaysia, you’d just had two streaks of red locks in the front, tendrils that stuck to the sides of your face when you were sweating, and you’re sweating when he first sees you, although you hit him before he ever sees your face.

You’d dropped down from a tree branch, locked your arms around his neck and cut off his airflow. It isn’t as if you could have killed him, but he respects it, all the same. You’ve got this little knife and you slice his throat but it doesn’t bleed, closes up as you watch and you drop to your knees, wide eyed but still, not submitting. Even when you know he’s a god, you never submit. At least, not that way.

Later, he kisses all the scars on your forearms and wrists, defensive wounds from battles and scuffles with the male soldiers who’d found you out.

"I never let them break me," you'd said, proudly, but there's something behind your eyes that makes him want to slaughter all the male soldiers in their sleep, bring you their heads, a sacrifice like the old gods had demanded.

As he had once demanded, before he met a human girl with an immortal soul full of fire and was punished for worshipping her.

Now it's 2021 and he's been through so many years, and he's tired. He's changed his name, over and over, from Eros to Cupid to then more common names.

He's been Baekhyun the last four lifetimes because you seem to like it, it makes you giggle in 1924 when your red (always red, red like fire and blood and love and all things that are important to him) hair was bobbed and you were wearing a black sequined dress at a speakeasy.

"Baek," you'd laughed, tipsy, one hand on his arm and he couldn't stop smiling at you. "Almost like Bark, like a dog."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he'd answered, flirting but also honest. He'd always been whatever you wanted because he got so few years with you, each time.

"You'd be my dog?" Your eyes sparkled with booze and excitement.

He nodded. "Follow you around like a puppy."

When you'd given him an incredulous smile, he'd opened his mouth in the middle of a packed speakeasy in New York City and barked like a dog.

The way you'd laughed is something he can hear in his dreams years later, tries to make it the memory he remembers most instead of the ones where you'd died screaming.

Now, there are no more gods who want you for sacrifice, all of his kind who were vengeful had gone silent, moved on or passed on, including his father who'd cursed him in the first place.

He's hoping, every lifetime, that this is where it ends. He's hoping that this time he doesn't have to tell you.

He's wrong, just like he had been in 1425 and 1604 and 1976. The curse outs itself, as curses always do.

You sit up in bed, watching him sleep and shivering, for what seems like hours after that dream.

He wakes slowly, but scrambles up into a seated position as soon as he’s fully conscious, being careful not to touch you.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, even if you have a feeling you do.

“At some point, you always remember.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so goddamn cryptic?” Your voice is hoarse and loud.

He nods, as if expecting your outburst.

“Sometimes you’re not ready to hear.”

You want to scream in frustration. “Hear what?”

“What I am. What we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Immortals.”

You gawk at him. He makes it sound so simple, like he’s talking to a child.

“You’re an immortal?”

“You, too.” He pauses. “Well, in a different way.”

“So what, you’re telling me that was real? My dream? Angelica?”

Baekhyun lets out a long breath, shifts on the bed to face you.

“You were Eva. Angelica. Yui. In Greece I called you stellina. You’ve had more names than I have.”

You look up into his eyes and if he’s lying, he deserves an Academy award for the performance.

“What… what are you?”

You aren’t sure if you’re frightened or intrigued or both.

Baekhyun smiles then, wryly.

“Eros. Cupid. Angelica simply called me Love.”

“You’re telling me you’re like... the god of love? The one with the arrows?”

He looks as if he wants to laugh at you but wisely, he doesn’t. Instead he nods.

“Is it… is it always like it was when… when I was Angelica?” You ask, breathing in deeply because you remembered the pain in your chest, the way the blood spread out on the dirt in your lucid dream.

“Almost always,” he says softly, and reaches out to put his hands on yours.

You would have thought you would have flinched away but instead, his touch seems to comfort you and you lean into him.

“What happens when I don’t?” You ask, curiously, and something shutters over his eyes.

“You’re happy.” He rubs your knuckles between his fingers.

It’s a lot to take in and you have a million more questions but also, you can’t think of a single one that you can put into words. You pace around the bedroom and when that’s not enough, your entire apartment, and then outside to the elevator and back and he stays put, sitting cross legged in bed and looking at you with those deep brown eyes.

Finally, you plop down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

“So what do we do?”

He just looks at you, again with that bemused smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

“How do we fix it?” You demand.

Instead of responding, he takes your hands in his again, brushes his lips across your knuckles but this time you do recoil.

“I’m not going to die horribly again. You can’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he murmurs, and you want a reaction, something other than the way he’s just looking at you so you shove him and he just lets you, falls back on the bed when you do it a second time.

“You just keep letting me die?” You accuse, crawling up onto the bed and he makes a growl in the back of his throat, grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pins you when you try to shove him again.

“I never let you die. I try over and over and over to save you, but I can’t. The only way I can save you is by finding-”

He looks away from you, shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth and you wriggle under him.

“Finding what?” You insist.

He lets you go, rolls over and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“Your true match. In all the lifetimes that you’ve lived to old age in, I shot my arrow to find your true match.”

You deflate, lying there next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying in order to live like a normal person, I have to fall in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” he says miserably. After a few moments, he lifts his arm and opens one eye to look at you. “Got anyone in mind?”

You shove at his arm, but not as hard this time, and he breaks into a smile, takes you into his arms. You melt against him, just like before, because that’s what feels right, that’s what feels natural.

“That happened? Before?” You ask, stroking his hair and usually he preens at the attention, leans back to kiss you but now he buries his face in your hair, avoiding your gaze.

He murmurs something in affirmation and kisses just under your earlobe.

“You found someone else for me?”

He nods, still not lifting his head, and you huff out a breath, wanting some kind of reaction out of him.

“Was he hot?”

Baekhyun groans and laughs, rolls over onto his back. ‘You always do this.”

“Always do what?” You demand, poking at his side. “You know all these things about me...or well, some version of me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He looks at you, smiling just a little. “You know everything about me.”

You huff, frustrated. “It doesn’t feel like it. I want to know more. I want to know how I died, why I died, what all this means.”

To his credit, Baekhyun tries to explain it to you. The curse, his family, but it’s all twisted up in your mind with these memories you have of him in past lives, of being so in love with him you can barely breathe, wanting him so badly you can barely sit still, and it ends with you tearing off his clothes and him laughing into your mouth as you guide him inside you.

After, you’re contrite, kissing along his collarbone.

“I don’t want you to find anyone else for me.”

Baekhyun makes a sound in the back of his throat and you don’t know if it’s surprise or something else.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” you continue, orgasm drunk and with this fire burning under your skin, remembering how Angelica felt, how Yui felt, moving closer to him on the bed because you can’t bear to have your skin not touching his in every place you can.

He pulls you on top of him, kissing you after you squeal in surprise and your lips feel swollen and bruised already but it’s the sweetest ache.

“I don’t think I could, even if you asked,” he admits, and something about the way he says it makes you proud, makes your heart swell. His hands skate over your upper arms and his touch gives you goosebumps.

“No?” You shift to spread your thighs, liking the way he hardens under you with just the barest movement.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his tongue coming out slowly to lick his lips. You see that you’ve bitten his bottom lip bloody and it sends a shot of heat through you.

“Usually I never found anyone else for you, not after I’d touched you. I started out meaning to find someone for you. Touching you first… having you first… it makes things complicated.”

You don’t speak but shift again and it seems to spur him on.

His face is flushed and it’s cute, makes you smile.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” You’re grinning now, like the cat that ate the canary, and he groans but he’s smiling.

He sits up suddenly, bracing himself against the headboard and he puts his hands on your hips to move you backwards so that his half hard erection sits right at the cleft of your cunt and when you gasp and try to guide him inside you, he tightens his hands with a slight shake of his head.

“You gonna make me say it?”

“You know I am.”

You gasp when he puts pressure on your clit with his thumb, humming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve loved you for centuries, and I’ll love you for centuries more, stellina.”

“What does that mean?” You gasp, your insides on fire with lust and love and full to bursting, rocking your hips forward and he gives you what you want, puts more pressure on your clit and lets you guide his cock inside you.

“Star,” he says softly, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “Because you burn.”

You do burn, you burn inside and out and you want to tell him that you burn for him but he sticks his thumb in your mouth, presses down on your tongue just how you like and all you can do is moan around it.

He keeps his other thumb positioned just right so that you can rock against his hand and lift your ass so that his cock slides against your g-spot and you suck on his thumb until he hisses and bucks beneath you, moving so that you can lean down and kiss him hard, brace your hands on either side of him so that you can get more traction.

You’re sure that you’ll be sore in the morning, ever since you’ve met him (in this lifetime, at least) you’ve been in some type of bittersweet pain, an ache across your throat, soreness in your thighs and hips and ass where you’ve been riding him, a rawness deep inside from too much sex and not enough rest.

There’s never enough, never enough of your sweat misted skin sliding across his, never enough of his hand fisted in your hair, of his cock at the back of your throat, of his fingers hooked inside you. The past couple of weeks you’ve only left his apartment for work and a few changes of clothes (not that you wore them much, anyway).

It makes you feel more sane, knowing that you’ve wanted him this way in other lifetimes, makes you feel like the way you feel makes more sense, because you were beginning to think you were going crazy.

It isn’t as if he’s some kind of sex god, exactly, he just seems to know exactly what you like, exactly what you want, right away. That makes a kind of sense, now, how even when you’re on top he knows exactly what to do and say to get you to tip over the edge.

“I love the way you look like this,” he rasps, looking up at you as if maybe you are a star exploding and it isn’t just some nickname he gave you in Rome. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You cry out his name, throwing your head back when you cum and he palms his hands across your breasts and the stimulation across your nipples sends an aftershock through you right after. You’re like a ragdoll for a few moments after your orgasm and he shifts you around just like one, using you to get off and you kiss and kiss and kiss him, loving the way it feels when he spills inside you.

You say it then, maybe because he said it to you first or maybe just because your heart is full to bursting with it.

“I love you.” It’s almost defiant. “I love you, and I don’t want to love anyone else.”

He strokes your cheek where you’re still lying on top of him.

“I don’t know if we get a choice, stellina.”

There’s always questions when you find out, and Baekhyun is prepared for them. There’s often questions that hurt, somewhere deep in his bones, questions you’d asked over and over again.

Sometimes you’re curious about your other perfect matches, and that stings. Sometimes you want to know about your deaths, and those are hard memories to bring to the surface.

The question that always hurts the most, though, is the one you ask after you’ve both showered, lying sated and exhausted in his bed, the curtains blacking out the sun outside.

“Did we ever have children?”

You’re rubbing your stomach and there’s something caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.

“We didn’t. You did. Sometimes.”

You look up at him and frown. “With my true match?”

Baekhyun heaves a sigh so deep it hurts his chest. “With him, yes.”

You pause. “Was it the same guy? Same… soul, I guess?”

Baekhyun nods slowly, his heart sinking, but you don’t ask anything more, you just lie your head on his shoulder.

He wonders what you’re thinking, wonders where it branches off from here. He’s been here so many times before. He feels more tired than he should.

But instead of asking more questions or storming out crying or any of the things you’d done after you’d found out, you start to snore softly, curled up next to him.

Baekhyun wonders idly if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’s drifting off before he’s even completed the thought.

When he wakes, you’re gone, and he scrambles out of bed in his boxers to pace around the house. He can feel you aren’t around and it’s like a hole in his chest. It’s always been that way, he knows when you’re close and when you’re not, and you must be miles away because now, there’s nothing.

When he checks his phone you’ve texted that you’ll be back with food. He’s shocked that it’s nearly noon, it hadn’t even been sunset when he’d dozed off.

Perhaps immortals can be just as bone tired as mortals, sometimes. After a dozen lifetimes of fighting, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He waits for you, sitting on the couch and idly flipping through the channels, and he thinks about when it all ends. His father had moved on, had no one worshipping his name anymore, and it isn’t as if school children are learning much about Eros, Cupid relegated to only one day out of a year with awful sour sweet candy and paper mache hearts. He’s stored his bow a few hundred miles away, hoping that this lifetime he wouldn’t need it, hadn’t actually found a true match for anyone but you in centuries.

Baekhyun wonders, with no real sense of urgency or fear, if this is the last lifetime. There’s a kind of exhaustion he’s never felt before that seems to weigh him down, and he’s finding it hard to care about anything but you. He hopes it happens before you pass, before the curse ends your life too young and too violently. He wants to move on and set you free, because he knows he can’t resist you for more than a couple of lifetimes. He’s tried too many times and failed.

You return bright eyed and with half a dozen books and a notebook, a pen pinched between your teeth.

At your urging he goes out to the car and brings in the breakfast you’d bought and you spread your books across the table.

“Greek and Roman Mythology for Dummies.” He reads aloud, laughing, and you look up at him from the floor and frown.

“Don’t judge me, this is all new to me.”

He holds up his hands. “Not judging. What’s all this for?”

“I’m going to find a way to end the curse, of course.”

Baekhyun sits down hard on the couch. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” You demand, your nose scrunching up just a little.

He can’t help but smile at you, and he shrugs.

No reason to shoot down your hopes. Not yet, at least.

Four hours later, your eyes red rimmed from staring at books and your laptop screen, you jump onto the couch and into his lap.

“I found it!” You screech, and kiss all over his face.

Baekhyun smiles, kisses you back, and you make love there on the couch. You want to be bent over, his hand on the small of your back to keep you over the couch arm, up on your tiptoes and making a little grunting noise every time he thrusts into you.

Baekhyun may be exhausted after all this time but he never gets tired of this. He never gets tired of you.

Your moans are muffled in the couch cushions but he hears his name, the one he always uses with you, ever since you were Angelica and that hunter’s arrow had pinned you to the ground.

Baekhyun is tired. He’s tired in a way he’s sure no human ever could be. He’s tired of all the times he’s lost you, to your true match and then worse, to death, and he’s tired of living them over and over again.

But when you stand up, twist his face to kiss him, your eyes bright when you grin against his mouth, he thinks that it’s all been worth it.

You’re always worth it, and the thought of getting to meet you again, another you, is all it takes for him to keep going.

It takes a few months to get the time off work, match up travel plans, and get supplies.

Supplies meaning mostly travel gear and light clothes and a passport, the place you need to get to is high up on a cliffside in Northern Greece.

Baekhyun’s supportive enough, you guess, but you feel a bit nervous about his lack of excitement when you’re finally there, in Greece, at a gorgeous resort near the cliffside. Money hadn’t been a problem. Apparently when you’re immortal you manage to accrue a bit of savings.

“Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t this feel like home?”

Baekhyun laughs, loud and open, for what seems like the first time since you’d found out.

“This isn’t my home, stellina. I’m older than Greece.’

You blink, shocked. “But you are Eros.”

He nods. “I’m Eros, and Cupid, and Ishtar, and Kuni. Many gods and goddesses, different names. My duty and purpose was always the same, but I’ve never had a home. Except with you.”

He brushes your cheek with his nose and you sigh, hate that the way he says that so simply, as if it’s the whole truth, makes your heart clench.

“Still, you remember being here.”

Baekyun nods, staring out at the sea, reliving some life you only half remember.

You don’t ask many more questions, at least not until the next day when Baekhyun is listlessly pulling on his clothes and you’re tugging at his hands, excited, wanting to hurry and have this curse looming over your head end, so that you can stop thinking about it.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” You pout, but you quiet when he looks up at you, his usually warm brown eyes dull and exhausted.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You ask, softer now.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Some.”

Then he grins at you and there’s a flicker of life in his eyes. “I’m a very old man, you know. I need my rest.”

It makes you laugh, makes you forget, and you don’t think of it again until you’re hiking up the trail, about an hour’s long journey to reach the top.

He’s behind you by a few hundred feet and you frown at him, waiting until he reaches you. You’ve never seen him out of breath.

You take his hand, tug him further up the trail but it’s only a few moments before he stops, bracing himself on a tree near the trail.

“Stop,” he wheezes, and you do, tilting your head at him in confusion.

“Baekhyun, we have to-”

“Just stop,” He insists, and you’d think he was angry if his voice weren’t shaking.

“Why? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” You fire off at him, moving closer, and he shakes his head.

You take his chin in your hand and force him to look at you.

His brown eyes are still as tired as earlier, and wet now, too.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he manages hoarsely.

You take a step back. “Have we done this before? Have we been here before?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but there’s a truth in his silence.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “So what? Maybe this time it’ll work, maybe this is different-”

“It’s not different. In France you were called Jacqueline and we came here. You read books about it, forced me here just like you did this time. You were so certain it had worked.”

You shake your head but he keeps talking.

“You were so certain that after a couple of months, I was certain too. Three months later, there was a bus accident.” His voice breaks and he’s quiet again and you feel like you can’t breathe properly for the ache in your throat.

“We don’t know that will happen again.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “I know it will happen because it does, over and over again! Listen, we should go back to the hotel. I can get my bow out of storage and-”

“No!” You cry, stalking over to him. “No, that’s not the way to fix this.”

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, and he won’t look at you. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“You don’t know that,” you say stubbornly. “Whoever I’ve been in the past, I’ve never been this person, and I know I can fix it.”

He pushes himself away from the tree as if it takes effort to do it. “You always say that,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired.

You’re angry, heat rushing through your veins, and you don’t know if it’s at him or the fact that some ancient curse has decided to come through your life like a brushfire.

You push at him and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even keep you from pushing him against the tree.

“You don’t care, is that it? You’re what, bored of this? You want to get your bow so you can get rid of me?”

His jaw tightens and he looks away from you. “Maybe I do.”

You push him again and he has nowhere to go, backed up against the tree so he just takes it, stands there.

“Coward.” You spit. “You’d rather match me with someone else. You’d rather let someone else-”

“Stop it,” he says, something like a warning in his voice and you want to laugh or cry or both.

“Look at you. You can’t even hear me say it, but you’re going to marry me off like some 14th century child bride-”

“I’m not-” Baekhyun huffs, then stops, runs his hand through his hair. “He’s your true match. You… you always love him, when you meet him.” He struggles with the last sentence but he maintains eye contact, jaw working.

“Fuck my true match. And fuck you if that’s your answer to this.” You rage.

He doesn’t speak. “You’re always happy when you find him.” His voice is weak and it sounds like a weak excuse to your ears and you’re shaking with anger and fear.

You have this memory, sudden and sharp like a knife.

You're in this stone room, an inn you think, and you're half asleep but you can hear a low murmur from the room. It's familiar, from your traveling companion of the last few weeks.

His name is on your lips as you sit up but he's pacing around the room, not paying any attention to you. The way he's talking to himself makes you worried.

"You have to do this. You have to, you know you do," he mutters and there's something liquid in his voice.

Suddenly he slaps himself across the face and you yelp his name, stand up to take his wrist in your hand.

"Baekhyun," you whisper. "What are you doing?"

His face is flushed and his eyes look so tired, so worn, like he's lived a thousand years.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he manages, pulling away from your touch as if you'd burn him.

A few days later, his hands are shaking when he draws his bow, and your eyes are on him instead of your true match.

"Wh-what if you miss?" You whisper.

Baekhyun smiles but he won't look at you. "I don't miss."

He doesn't, but part of you wishes he had.

The memory just makes you angrier, makes you want to push him again.

“Am I? And what about you? What about you, Baek, are you happy without me? Are you happy giving me away?”

He scoffs, finally looking at you.

“No, really. Tell me. You must be happy giving me away because you want to do it so badly-”

“I hate it!” He bursts out. “I fucking hate it, every single time. I hate the way you look at him. I even hate how happy he makes you. I should be happy giving you away so that you can be safe, so that you can have the family that you want, but I fucking hate it.”

“Why do you hate it?” You demand to know, tears streaming down your face.

“You know-” he starts and you shake your head.

“I need you to tell me.”

Baekhyun puffs out his cheeks, he does that when he’s frustrated, when he wants to scream but you don’t have time to think about how cute it is right now.

“I hate it because I love you. I hate it because whoever your true match is, you’re mine.” He says, finally, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Because I’m yours,” you parrot back at him, and his mouth opens, brows furrowed in a frown.

He takes a step toward you, now, but you don’t back away, and you don’t flinch when he takes your hips in his hands, tugs you toward him, claiming your mouth.

You claw at him, can’t help yourself and you don’t care that brambles are scratching your legs when he lies you down on the ground, don’t care because he’s panting your name into your ear, your name, not all those previous yous. You don’t care because you’ve chosen him, despite whatever the gods had determined to be your “true match.”

“We have to do this,” you tell him as you’re adjusting your clothes and he’s still lying there, panting.

He nods, as if humoring you, but he isn’t as listless when he starts back up the trail with you, keeping up with you and stealing kisses and making small talk.

You’re sweating by the time the two of you reach the top of the mountain, and when you look back, Baekhyun has fallen behind a bit, struggling up the hill.

You startle when thunder cracks overhead, sudden and close, but you walk back down the path to him, put your hand on his arm and he’s trembling.

“We’ve never made it this far,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

“We don’t ever know what happens next, Baekhyun, but you know what happens when we don’t.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not if you let me get my arrows, we can stop all of this, we can-”

“No!” You yell. “No, shut up about that, I can make my own choices!”

You tug on his arm and he stumbles forward only a few steps before stopping again and you can see the circle of stones at the top of the hill, where you’re supposed to stand according to the legends, and you haven’t done weeks of research and travelled across the world for nothing.

You take his hand in yours, squeeze, and look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you promise, and you have no idea what’s about to happen and it’s raining now, cold against your skin, but you know that you have to do this.

Baekhyun looks at you and there’s nothing in his eyes but fear and uncertainty but you tug at his hand again anyway and this time he follows without resistance.

It happens so quickly after that.

You step into the circle first, and he pauses, hesitating before breaking the barrier by stepping over one of the irregular stones. The second he does, lightning cracks above your head and you cry out, frightened.

Baekhyun grabs you out of instinct or some desire to protect you and you go down, scraping your elbows against the rock and sand as you try to catch yourself. Baekhyun puts his hands on either side of your head and it’s raining so hard that it’s all you can hear, that and the thunder, and there’s lightning everywhere, lighting up his features as he looks down at you.

“I was never strong enough to do this before,” he says, nearly yelling over the storm. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t-”

He’s cut off by another crack of lightning and he seems to be… lighting up, somehow, some glow that you think is from the lightning but then you see it’s coming from inside him. He arches his back, his face lined with pain and you realize something’s happening, something bad but when you reach up to touch him, he’s giving off so much heat that the tips of your fingers burn.

“Baek,” you whisper, and he manages to focus on you again. When he does, his face… it isn’t his face, but somehow you recognize it anyway and it keeps changing, cycling through all the lifetimes you’ve shared together.

“I’ve been so many things,” he says, and his voice is strong even over the chaos. “but I’ve always been yours.”

He manages to touch his forehead to yours and you’re terrified by the storm and what’s happening and especially how it seems to pain him to even move, how he’s glowing brighter and brighter until your eyes start watering.

He says your name but it’s your name and Jacqueline and Eva and Yui and so many others, all wrapped into one, and kisses you, the bright light coming from him forcing your eyes shut as he gets closer.

When you open them, there’s no sound of the rain or thunder and the ground under you is dry, as if you’d imagined it all.

But you can taste the rainwater in your mouth. You can still taste him there, too, but he’s gone.

You scramble up, yelling out his name and there’s nothing, just the sound of the birds in the trees. Moments before, the sky had been black, but now it’s sunny again.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears running down your throat as you stumble down the path.

You’re sobbing by the bottom of the path because there’s nothing, no evidence he was even there at all. You’re remembering what he said, how he said you’d never been that far before, but you’re wondering if he’d known, anyway.

You’re wondering if breaking the curse means that he has to die and how all of this is your fault your fault your fault.

There’s a sound in the woods and you barely realize it until there’s a man standing next to you.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

You sniffle, looking up at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Baekhyun, just the same, wearing the wet and sandy clothes he’d been wearing just a few moments ago, but something’s wrong and you can’t rush to him like you want to.

“Baekhyun?”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiles a little sheepishly. “Is that my name? I seem to have forgotten it. I think… I think I got lost.”

You think about how this feels, how there’s not a single light of recognition in his eyes and it feels like your chest has cracked wide open. You think about how he must have felt this, over and over again, and understand why he didn’t want you to have to feel it.

You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“You’re not lost,” you tell him, and take his hand.

Baekhyun looks down at your hand in his and then back up to you, a smile breaking across his face. “No, doesn’t seem like it anymore.”

You’re trying not to cry as you lead him back to the resort when he stops and you turn back to look at him.

“I know this might seem like an odd question, but… have we met before?”

It hurts but you crack a smile anyway, remembering how he’d done this for you over and over, remembering what he’d said to you a few months ago.

“Maybe in another life.”

[muffindaddystyles]

Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 20 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

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His

The moment you open the front door, you know something's off. It's night already, and you're sure, by how dark it is, that every single light is turned off. Keanu was supposed to stay with Liam as you went to your appointment with the psychologist. Another one, someone who will give you a different perspective. So you don't get why the house seems to be empty. He doesn't take Liam out without telling you, and you do the same, always letting the other know where you'll be.

“Keanu?” You call, throwing your purse on the couch and taking your heels off.

Fear starts creeping over your skin when you see something weird on the floor, some feet away. Walking there, you bend over to take it, and at the same moment you realize what it is, you see another, and another, and one more after, forming a trail that leads to the back of the house. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder why are there so many red rose petals on the floor.

“Keanu?” You call again, making your way to the backyard, an unusual yellowish light getting your attention. “What–” The words get caught on your throat when you notice more and more the petals, and as you follow and then, raising your head, your eyes go wide at the sight of the backyard, completely lit up by candles.

There's a table set in the middle and roses all over the place. Keanu stands by the table, in a damn suit, which makes him look even more handsome. Mouth half open, you take a look at everything, perfectly set, before starting at Keanu once again.

“Ke... What...” He moves his hand a little and a slow, soft song starts playing. You gasp, biting your lip.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks, and you nod, making your way over him and taking his hand on yours.

Keanu guides your arms around his neck, his big, warm hands resting on your hip, and it burns right through the delicate fabric of the green dress you're wearing. And then, you start moving, from side to side, following the rhythm.

“What's this about, Ke?” You have to ask. It's been a while since you decided to start dating. It does sound silly, given everything that happened, but you both thought it would be a good start. You also promised not to let out what happened between you two, since people wouldn't understand and you don't want to affect his career. You forgave him, wholeheartedly, and you know he did what he did to keep you safe.

“Just thought we needed a romantic dinner.” He simply says, taking your hand and pushing you away, so gently, before pulling you back into his arms. “And don't worry. Liam is with Mrs. Jackson.”

“Alright...” Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. “Is it a special occasion? Like my birthday or something?” The day you were born was mentioned, but you didn't really pay attention.

“Not for a couple of months.”

“You're oddly mysterious tonight, Ke.” Tiptoeing, you place a kiss on his lips.

“What's wrong with a little bit of mystery?” When the song ends, he takes your hand, guiding you to the table.

“There's nothing wrong with it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, taking your seat.

“I'll serve dinner. Give me a minute.” You nod as he walks back inside, taking the time to look around again.

The yard was never so beautiful, the candles casting soft, warm lights. There are red petals, scattered around the place, and roses on the centerpiece. Reaching out your hand, you take one, bringing it to your nose and breathing in the amazing scent.

“(Y/N),” Keanu calls when he's near you, and when you turn around, you don't find anything on his hands. “I was going to wait so we could have dinner first, but...” Taking your hand in his, Keanu pulls you up, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

He takes a deep breath before searching for something on the inside of his suit, and you feel your blood running cold when he gets down on one knee.

Keanu reveals a small, dark box, and when he opens it, there's the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in it. It shines, lit up by the candles, and you see three stones, the one in the middle a little bigger than the others.

“(Y/N), I know it's only been some months since we started... Dating.” He begins, and you feel your hands shaking. “But everything happened to us in quite an unusual way and I'm completely in love with you.” You're already crying, a hand covering your mouth. “I thought I knew what love was, but I was so wrong. This is love, and it's... Undescribable. The way I feel when you walk in the room is... You own my heart, it's yours.”

Biting back a sob, you let him take your hand in his.

“So I couldn't wait anymore, beautiful. I want what we had while stuck on that lie to be real. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Forever. So... (Y/N)... Do you want to be my wife?”

“Yes,” you mutter, a little too fast, but since you're not sure if he could hear it, you nod, watching as he slides the ring on your finger.

There are no words to describe this moment. As Keanu stands up again, welcoming you into his arms and lifting you up, and you know this is right. Maybe everything meant to lead you to this moment. You know there are important people you left behind, like Daniel, your first husband, but you can only count on what you remember. And maybe just maybe, this was meant to be since the beginning. And you're happy, beyond happy, to have found the love of your life.

So it doesn't take much until the preparations start. Actually, they start on the very next day. For the general public, you'll be just a wedding vow renewal, since you don't remember the first. But it doesn't matter what they think, only what you know.

Laura is overjoyed, and she takes it into her hands to help you with everything. The date is set for only two months after the proposal, so it gives you little time to put everything together. And Laura is as indecisive as you are about the wedding dress. You do want to know Keanu's opinion, but you really want it to be a surprise, so you manage to chose it without asking him.

Things start getting hectic as the day approaches, but thanks to Laura, and to some people Keanu hired to organize everything, stuff is getting done just in time. When the day comes, there's not a single thing that isn't perfect.

There weren't allowed any journalists, just a single photographer, who's friends with Keanu. You know the pictures will find their way online, and you're well aware of some paparazzi hiding away. But nothing else matters. When you say ‘I do’, dressed in white, eyes on the most handsome man on Earth, nothing else matters.

And when you kiss, sealing your love before all the guests, you finally understand the true meaning of happiness. And as you walk down the aisle, hand in hand with Keanu as he holds Liam in his free arm, you smile at the camera, barely able to believe your eyes.

Sometime later, you're watching Liam playing in Mrs. Jackson's arms as you're seated on Keanu's lap. It was just for some photos, but you decided to stay.

“I have some news. But only if you agree.” Keanu says, low voice on your ear.

“Let's hear it.”

“I thought about a week in the Caribean as a honeymoon. But in November, so Liam is a little older. And if you think he'd be alright without us for this period.” As he speaks, Keanu pulls your hair away, placing a kiss on your neck.

“If we can hire Laura as a babysitter, I think it'll be alright.” Biting your lip, you look down at him. “And you should at least try to control yourself, Mr. Reeves. There are still some hours before we can be alone.” Lowering your voice, you smirk, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Because you're so good on self-control, Mrs. Reeves.”

“Oh, I love my new name.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when a song starts playing. “Ok, we have to dance.” Jumping to your feet, you start moving already, holding his hand as you walk to the dance floor. The song is fast, so you get this chance to be all over Keanu the best you can without letting anyone else notice the teasing.

“Do you really think it's a good idea to tease your husband before the wedding night?” He asks, his huge hands coming to encircle your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“It's the best idea I ever had.” Winking, you turn around, moving along with the rhythm, rasing an eyebrow to see Laura dancing with Robert. That took some time, but you finally see something happening.

The rest of the party goes on wonderfully well, and when it's over, you go back home. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson offered to stay with Liam tonight, so you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You're not entirely surprised to find your bedroom all decorated with candles and roses. You love it, but before actually getting into bed, you completely fail on the self-control thing, joining Keanu in the shower.

But of course, it doesn't stop there, and in no time, the amazingly decorated bed is messed up, once again claimed as yours. And even though you're tired of the party and the ceremony, you can't stop. You can't have enough of Keanu, you can't have enough of finally being his.

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