#wrinkled hands clasped together. faces nuzzling

[javussyannihilator]

You're the only Les Mis blog whose Valvert takes I trust🙏 We, as a fandom, have had enough of Javert bashing already, so I just appreciate the Javert appreciation here.

oh man, that’s a heck of a compliment, thank you!! i would love to be remembered always as a blog to go to if you want a safe space for javert, valjean, and the old men together 💓

to be honest, the main reason i wanted a blog to post silly les mis things is because i got soooooooo tired by a lot of the posts out there that were like…

so wildly, disproportionately hateful toward javert (i still haven’t forgotten the ones that would randomly pop up in the main javert tag to talk about chopping him into pieces!!!!)

had such flat and one-note takes about valjean (“he’s so flawless and saintly and perfect and never does anything wrong ever ever ever uwu 🥺”), that are not only out of character and disingenuous, but they’re just straight up boring, and preclude any further character development or story arcs

only discussed valvert if it was like… javert one-sidedly obsessed with and devoted to valjean. but where are valjean’s affections and desires in that? doesn’t jean valjean, of all people, love the person he’s with too? shouldn’t a ship about two middle-aged men finding love later in life involve�� both of them, and their wants and desires, not just javert basking in some scraps valjean throws his way? how is valjean punishing himself to be with javert or javert subsisting off morsels of affection like, a good dynamic for either of them? like toxic yaoi has its place for sure!! but it’s not really valvert’s vibe outside of lm98 or, you know, a darker fic AU.

so anyway, i kept thinking “i could just make the kind of valvert posts i want to see” and eventually just put them here 😊 

and honestly everyone who interacts with these posts usually leaves such great comments and tags, and really helps to bring a lot of fun and positivity to valvert together, as well as javert and valjean individually, and it really does help, like… okay there may still be hateful posts in this fandom—what can you do, eh? but it’s good to know and be reminded that there are fans who just want the old men to Both be happy and in love.

[anantaru]

— not saying “i love you” back

including scaramouche, ayato, alhaitham, cyno x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, we‘re evil (especially in cyno's part)

— scaramouche

"and please don't forget to buy some fruit!"

you sing over to your boyfriend, musing with a pacifying, settling timbre in your voice when scaramouche indisputably turned around one last time before leaving for the grand bazaar.

in any other occasion, the two of you would proceed to go together, hand in hand, strolling through the entirety of Sumeru City while sauntering in midst the many food vendors to stock up for the upcoming week.

"i will, stop repeating it all over again."

he's gutted, scrunching his eyebrows with indistinct wrinkles showing on his forehead, "i'm not stupid." obviously, kuni was barking back in his usual fashion, tiptoeing around the edge of your nerves.

"obviously you're the smartest."

you responded, with a crooked little grin accompanying your teasing, the taunting that had your boyfriend weak on the knees, making him all giddy but he wouldn't admit it, ever.

he sighs, acting a bit peeved, but in truth he could barely muffle a laugh, or a little giggle at least, "whatever, i'm leaving." your eyes follow him, watching as he walked towards the exit, speaking once more. "bye, love you."

"bye!"

okay, well, maybe you were evil after all.

you weren't sure what brought you to the realization that, yes, maybe now was the right time to poke fun at your boyfriend, provoke scaramouche to tickle a sweet, little reaction out of him.

the moment he had heard you speak, he didn't move, as if he was waiting for the last few sentences he was sure, you must've forgotten.

"really? is that all you got to say to me?"

scaramouche was swaying from leg to leg, left to right, killing time and fiddling his thumbs as his eyes dangerously proceeded to throw daggers on your resting frame, yearning for attention. "mhm!"

as it was, you didn't seem to care, at all, it was both irritating and off putting.

aside from how you were innocently resting on the couch while browsing and paging through a little picture book you bought a while back, you were still, ignoring him, thoroughly indulging in it.

right off the bat, his face tweaked, his left brow twitching in displeasure.

actually, there were two possible routes to take right now, he figured; one, he could either just brush it off and go on about his day or second, he'd go back and find out what he had possibly done wrong this time.

obviously it must've been something quite significant, because normally it's you who's saying 'i love you' first and he needed, no, he deserved to hear that, right now.

so .. how dare you forget about it just like that? without an inch of remorse?

scaramouche was standing upright, shoulders confidently jolted back, while walking to where you were sitting st, and you noticed, of course you did, yet you pretended you didn't, fully immersing yourself into your other activity.

"hey." he speaks lowly now, a little confused but he's got the sprit before carefully lowering himself next to you.

"what's so interesting about this?"

he's ignorantly swatting his hand towards the little book in your grasp, his eyes were now, a touch lower, as if he was sad and actually concerned. "weren't you going somewhere?"

you were expecting this, flawlessly guessing his next step.

yet you opted to burst the bubble before you'd end up giving your boyfriend a heart attack.

meanwhile scaramouche couldn't believe his own hearing, momentarily he was more than fed up, bewildered, "you know what? forget it."

he pursed his lips, you knew he wasn't good with words so when he made an effort to angrily get up from his seat, you quickly wiggled your arms around his waist to drag him down again, nuzzling into his back when scaramouche plopped back into the cushions with a low heave.

"i was just messing with you." you're clasping on him tighter, further when you noticed a slight shake in his body, "forgive me please."

you're mumbling, hardly a whisper, as scaramouche cradled his body to face you, his lips carved into a purse, it was visible on how displeased and worried he had gotten.

he's accepting your apology in his own ways, kind of.

curling himself into your hug and precisely positioning his lips so they’d ghost against your ear, "do this again and i‘ll get back at you." gently kissing your earlobe, "but so much harder."

— ayato

"i will be free to retire from my duties tonight."

ayato spoke in a tranquil approach while applying a moisturizer on his face, gently massaging it into his skin.

"i'll fetch you later so you can join me for dinner."

it was quite usual for the both of you to plan your day ahead post slumber, above that going over ayato's schedule in particular which was mostly tightly packed and overfilled.

"sounds good to me." you're quick to slip into a cozy garment before lowering yourself to the vanity in his bedroom, smiling and carrying on to finish your daily routine.

taking this into consideration, ayato was set to start his day, slipping himself into his jacket before walking back to you once more.

he's lowering his face to charmingly nudge your jaw, "i'll be leaving now." his knuckles gently stroked down your nape while pondering softly.

subsequently, he quietly settled his lips on your cheek to plant a chaste goodbye kiss on you, "i love you."

that being done, ayato stood tall to walk out of your shared bedroom because normally, in any other instance, you'd say it back anyways, no reason for him to wait.

"until later!" your fingers moved idly over your face, not gifting him a single look back, whatever it was— that was developing right now, ayato at first, had no clue about it.

especially once he's almost reached the door, he figured, wait a minute, how come you still didn't say it back?

strange, he thought.

ayato narrowed his eyes and turned around, carefully observing you, extending all his senses in efforts to get behind the little mystery, and then, in the blink of an eye, it clicked and resonated in him.

"oh." ayato put his deepest, commanding voice, his scent, still hovering throughout the entire room, making you nervous, "so that's the little play you have issued for me today."

you're clearing your throat upon noticing the slight vibrations on the floor, emphasizing that he was walking towards you.

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby."

feigning innocence, you so early deciphered that it was in vein, coming from the mere fact that now, your boyfriend had an amusing grin spread across his smooth lips. "you don't know?"

he slowly clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, quietening his steps once reaching your body and placing his hands on top of your shoulders, watching you through the mirror of the vanity.

he's leaning forward, his shadow overcasting a spell on your body that had all your earlier confidence dissolved into nothingness, you caught yourself panicking and cradled your head to the side to meet his own.

"you know i'm utterly displeased if you act this way."

along the thin skin of your jaw, he planted short kisses on your flesh, his warm, minty breath ghosting over your face, "what way?"

you really wanted to know it now, desired to jump into the cold water without any safety measures.

you took a hard swallow and prolonged the eye contact, "like a brat."

you crooked a smile and then laughed, breathlessly giggling at him.

"ugh, i thought i would win today!"

you, in defeat, dramatically leaned back into the chair to render yourself defenseless, next, cradling his cheek to kiss him tenderly, "sorry."

his animated smile turned your heart ablaze, he was so outlandishly handsome even though he had just woken up half an hour ago.

ayato returned your kiss at the same time, liquifying your touch into his own when he drew himself back, a little, with you still being capable to taste his lips.

"now." he pauses for a brief instance, just a bit, before feebly nudging your nose, "say it back."

— alhaitham

alhaitham had told you, consistently, to be more mindful about your surrounding, urging you to take of yourself, most importantly your overall health.

and at any time you would assure him that you will listen, yet only shrugging his solicitousness off as nothing more than a small scale characteristic of his 'protective boyfriend' nature which traits he would display occasionally.

yet there you were now, sadly— and much to your dismay, vastly nauseous from coughing your literal heart out and attempting to get rid of the gnawing burn in your throat, your stomach churning after every inch of your muscles pulsing.

obviously for alhaitham personally, it was quite funny in the beginning, after all he had told you numerously to look after yourself, that there was a serious flu going around in Sumeru City.

so .. for you to not listen to his advice after all? let's say he wasn't surprised.

"how's my patient doing?" you can hear your boyfriend sing from across the room as you narrowed your eyes upon noticing that damned grin induced on his face, especially at the amusing little ring surrounding the color of his voice.

"what do you want?"

you're speaking lowly, a little raspy while fighting the soreness in your throat, "did you get my medicine?"

you weren't sure if alhaitham purposely took his time to get your treatment or if it was you, in fact, who didn't have any patience left in your frail body.

"of course i did." he's forcefully rolling his eyes, acting all dramatically while childishly swaying the package in his hand.

"what would *you* possibly do without me?"

folding your arms over your body, you intently stared at him now, as if the sole reason he got up in the morning was to get the best of you, mess with you or maybe punish you for not listening sooner.

alhaitham dropped himself onto the bed where you were currently residing in, comfortably nuzzled up in your blanket when you noticed the apparent shift of weight on the mattress.

you're reaching your hand out for the medicine, an invitation clearly made in vein, "can i?" the chill in the air cuts through the haze and pain in your throat, bringing your boiling blood singing on the surface of your cheeks.

as alhaitham made no effort to actually hand it to you, you were on the brink of snapping, attempting to grab it yourself yet he quickly pulled it back. "now, now." he speaks, amused.

"what do we say beforehand?"

"you're joking." your words are short, clumsy and there was something utterly repellent about the hilarity in alhaitham's tone and mannerism, "i'm not."

you're huffing out an exhausted sigh, reflecting the situation in your mind as to how you could pay him back for this behavior, clearly you were aware of how your boyfriend tends to act, how he could be quite a smart ass to you, but mostly to everyone around him.

instantaneously alhaitham breathlessly laughed as he noticed you zoned out, carefully planting the medicine in your palm, "yes, i was joking." his hand drew itself to your cheek to playfully nudge the flesh when he continued his sentence to you, "you're lucky i love you."

"whatever." you spoke and abruptly closed your hand to plump back into the velvety cushions of your shared bed, fully averting his gaze.

"you can go now."

there is a pause before he said anything, your face was hidden in the pillow when he watched over your shoulder.

"so .. you won't say it back or?"

"nope." you were quick to shush him, "really?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"yes."

it was an instinct when he suddenly let out a laugh, but an inaudible one, the sound not echoing through the room when it unexpectedly went back to silence.

okay, well, maybe he was a bit harsh today, he figured, you were sick after all so your reaction was valid.

alhaitham carefully sank himself further into the bed so you could perceive his warm body flushed against yours, his broad arm lazily falling over your waist, "okay, okay, i got the message."

whispering in defeat, you suppressed a giggle, cradling your head so you could look at him, "what do we say beforehand?"

the mock in your voice was evident and he did not mind, replying with a chaste kiss on your forehead, "i'm sorry."

— cyno

when it came to something as crucial as playing tcg with your boyfriend cyno, he always urged you to never hold back, to ruthlessly crush him with your cards.

most of the times your boyfriend would get quite competitive as well and you, in all honesty, did not mind. It was cute, really, how his face would slightly scrunch up whenever you were able to land a pivotal hit on one of his cards.

but what was a game .. without some additional fun tucked into it?

especially since cyno was overall a protective boyfriend, you'd love to tickle a new reaction out of him that you never experienced beforehand.

"it seems your cards aren't working well together."

he speaks volumes, two little dimples appearing on either side of his mouth as he chewed on the insides of his cheeks, concentrating and figuring out his next move to take.

"you're always so cruel to me, cyno."

you suddenly blurted out, adding a little mewl.

at this, his eyes abruptly widen in irritation, it wasn't particularly the sentence itself that made him struggle to comprehend what you just said, but the way you had phrased it.

"what?" he says at last, slowly tugging his cards to his body, "you never let me win!"

the contents of his mind have been pinned to your face, eagerly, attempting to decipher what the hell was going on right now.

"and i thought you love me, hm, whatever."

you quickly had to hide your face from him, biting back an evil laugh that was just about to spill when he laid his cards down the table.

"wait." he's panicking and for a moment, you felt bad for even playing this little trick on him, or, messing with his emotions, "of course i love you."

your fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt when you acted reluctant to answer.

"oh, that's awkward now."

your mouth split into a half grin, unable to prevent yourself from keeping up your devilish scheme but archons, cyno's face was priceless, he was absolutely bewildered, as if your words alone gave him serious whiplash.

"speak clear to me now."

his words dried in his throat, agonizingly slow, looking just as horrifying as if he was in the midst of working his occupation as a matra, fighting to the brink of utter death.

"when did you plan to tell me that you didn't harbor the same feelings for me after all?"

cyno couldn't feel his heart anymore, yet it was thrumming expressively under his ribcage. 

you breathe in and hold it, nostrils flaring, before you bursted out in a long laugh in front of him, hiding your mouth with the palm of your hand.

"i was just messing with you!"

needless to say, cyno, didn't find it hilarious at all, clicking his tongue while aiming to get up from his seat when you were quick to jump out of your own, dipping him back into the cushions.

"i'm sorry!" you nervously hugged him, tightly wrapping your arms around his neck, "don't be mad."

if only you weren't so sweet or the love of his life then maybe, he could've stayed mad, or at least lectured you about your wrong doings.

but cyno, did not speak at all, rather did he draw himself into you before leaning in to meet your eyes, propping his chin on your shoulder.

"you're a menace." he exhales with a shuddery laugh, shaking his head in disbelieve and rubbing his eyes awake.

the look of deep concern was still vividly noticeable when he danced his hand over your back soothingly, "now's the time." he suddenly words to you, imploring the obvious with his lips barely moving an inch.

"the time for what?" you were confused, lightly pinching his cheek.

"to say it back." he gazes up, his eyes softening like liquid fire, "you forgot to say it back."

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) and Trein enjoy a tranquil grandfather-granddaughter tea date, talking about everything and anything.

And somehow, they drift to the topic of boys that (Y/n) should or maybe should not date.

Request by anon.

"Would you like more milk, Lucius?"

The sleepy cat in your lap let out a soft meow while stretching his front legs out lazily, causing you to yelp in surprise with the sudden shift of weight. You had held the cat countless of times before, but never had he been so heavy before. Yet, one thing that hadn't changed were his half-lidded golden eyes and the way his whiskers jumped at the mentioning of milk.

Softly pawing at your blouse, Lucius yawned once again and nuzzled his head against your blazer. "Meow~"

You pursed your lips, unable to understand what the cat had said. So, a little bit helpless, you gazed up to look at your company for this particular tea party: Mozus Trein. The older man seemed busy sipping on his tea, his eyes closed in delight as he unwinded from a stressful day of school. You almost felt bad when you opened your mouth to snap him out of his tranquility.

"Professor," you called out, "what did Lucius say?"

Trein's eyes slowly fluttered open again, and he set down his cup of tea onto the saucer again. An amused smile appeared on his face that made wrinkles appear next to his eyes. "Oh, you truly are hopeless with animal language..." he said in a slightly humoured voice. The pout on your face caused him to laugh softly. "Nonetheless, Lucius said: 'Yes please.'"

Satisfied, you hummed and returned your attention to the cat purring away in your lap. "Thank you," you said in an absent-minded tone while reaching out for the small jug containing the milk that Lucius eyed with sharp eyes. "Here you go, Lucius." After having poured the liquid into another porcelain cup sitting on its saucer on the table, the cat soon jumped out of your lap and took a seat in the chair next to you, happily lapping up the milk in a graceful way.

"So, how has life treated you?" Trein asked with slightly curious eyes that were much softer and more friendly than what you were used to see of him during class. Although you had first been surprised, you loved this grandfatherly side of him — especially that calming aura he exuded. "I hope the boys haven't been giving you too much trouble. Divus complains about them annoying you all the time."

A small chortle escaped your lips, accompanied by a roll of your eyes. "Oh, I'm sure Professor Crewel is just exaggerating..."

Your words drew a few chuckles from Trein, and he merely shook his head in amusement. "Yes, that sounds very much like him. He is full of energy — like the puppies he tries to discipline with such effort." A small smile made its way to Trein's wrinkled face, and for a moment, he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. "Ah, sometimes I envy his youthful blood."

"You're not that old, sir."

Once again, Trein began to laugh, flattered and humoured by the way you had your eyebrows furrowed in scepticism. With a wave of his hand, he shrugged your concerns off. "I appreciate it, dear... but I'm not the youngest anymore," he said with a wistful sigh and a smile of acceptance. "At least age brings me wisdom."

"So you're wise enough to help me out with the boys?" you asked, giddy and excited all out of a sudden. "I need a second opinion on some of them."

"Of course. Of course." Trein nodded and clasped his hands together, a little bit overwhelmed by your sudden excitement. A slightly sheepish expression flashed over his face as he commented, "I may be less energetic than Divus, but do not expect me to go easy on them."

A flick of your wrist sufficed to wave his concerns off, along with a grateful smile on your lips. Then, you hummed as you rubbed your chin, deep in thought. Trein waited patiently for you to come up with the first boy you needed his opinion on, merely stirring some more milk into his own tea. "How about..." you trailed off before your eyes suddenly lit up. "Ace and Deuce?"

Trein sighed and shook his head. "Next."

That drew a chortle from you, followed by a laughing fit that almost made you fall out of your chair. The wilted garden behind Ramshackle soon was echoing with your unhinged laughter. Lucius meowed in complaint and covered his twitching ears with his paws. Trein merely shot you a surprised look while waiting for you to calm down. Once you were capable of speaking coherent sentences again, you wiped away the tears that had collected in your eyes and turned your attention to your professor again.

"Funny, Professor Crewel didn't want to talk about them either..." you pressed out between the last few wheezes that escaped your chest. Trein merely chuckled in amusement, not surprised by the revelation. "Fine, how about Riddle?"

"Rosehearts is an exemplary student. But I worry about his mental health— I encourage students to strive for the best, but his perfectionism can be more harmful than useful," he said after a while of thinking. That sophisticated frown on his face never left, only drawing more and more admiration from you. "Then... Diamond. He is quite cheerful— has too much energy for me. But years of handling teenagers has told me that a scowl hides beneath that smile he puts up."

"Woah, you're so smart!" you cried out at his analyses of your friends, to which he replied with a small and unbothered smile. There was no time to catch your breath as you were giddy to hear his opinion on the next student you had in mind. "How about Trey?"

Trein merely hummed and replied, "Clover seems nice."

"Just nice?" You quirked an eyebrow, wondering why Riddle and Cater had gotten a monologue for themselves while Trey's only description was 'nice'.

Trein nodded, a little bit caught off-guard on why that statement wouldn't suffice for you. So, tilting his head to the side with furrowed eyebrows, he hesitantly retorted, "Yes. You know, nice isn't bad." He paused to observe that quirked eyebrow of yours. "It may be boring, but having a nice person who cares for you is more than you could ever want."

"I see..." You decided to not dwell on this matter any further, maybe save it for a night where you would have trouble falling asleep and needed something to think about. Moving on, the Savanaclaw dorm came to your mind. Growing excited once more, you piped up, "What do you think about Leona?"

Trein pursed his lips once again, and it actually took him longer to reply than before. "I worry that Kingscholar will not pass this semester. He truly has some problems that he needs to fix before he can graduate, I assure you that. Maybe you'll be the one to help him? As for his other two dorm members, Howl and Bucchi — they seem nice. Howl is very hardworking, as is Bucchi."

"And," you continued, "how about Azul, Floyd, and Jade."

"I would keep away from them if I were you, but who am I to forbid you of seeing them? The more one shelters one's child, the more they become rebellious," Trein explained after a while of serious contemplation. The almost invisible smile he shot you one was one of trust, which you certainly weren't used to with how stern and strict he was during class. "I know you'll be careful enough around them, and I trust you with them."

His words made you incredibly happy, much more happy than the talk you had shared with Crewel a few weeks ago. "Thank you! You're such a refreshing breeze after talking to Professor Crewel."

"Oh, Divus is quite strict when it comes to his dear adoptive child." Trein chuckled while petting Lucius, who had found a place in his owner's lap again, happily dozing off with the soft breeze that swept through the backyard every once in a while. "But you know that Divus only wants the best for you."

"Yeah... I do," you trailed off, embarrassed. Although you thought the mood to be awkward, Trein thought it to be peaceful and serene. So, he was slightly taken aback when you quickly and swiftly changed the topic to the one at hand. "Alright! Jamil and Kalim?"

Lucius suddenly rose from Trein's lap, his head lazily bobbing up and down as he yawned and stretched. "Meow! Meow, meow."

Trein hummed and patted the cat's head. "I agree, Lucius."

"Uh— what?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes darted back and forth between the cat and his owner. Exchanging meows that all sounded the same to you, they continued bantering without a care. The confusion on your face multiplied with every passing second that they continued conversing, exchanging their opinions.

"Lucius," the professor asked the cat, "what do you think about Schoenheit, Hunt, and Felmier?"

"Meow. Meow, meow meow!"

"Interesting." Trein hummed ambiguously, which served to frustrate you even more. With a click of his tongue, he shook his head and exhaled in annoyance. "I do not entirely agree with you there since Hunt seems like a serious threat to everyone's safety here on campus, but you may be right there."

"Hey!" you cried out once you had enough, startling the cat and his owner. "I don't understand a single meow that Lucius says!"

Trein calmed down again, and Lucius did, too, with the way his spiked-up fur relaxed again. "Oh, we apologise," the professor said with an amused smile once he gazed upon your furious face. "Now... where were we..."

"Hm..." you trailed off, calm again. "Idia."

"Oh, Shroud." Trein hummed, once again taking a lot of time to think about the person you wanted his opinion on. One could clearly see the struggle on his face, and he often began new sentences, only to pause and rethink his words again. Eventually, he just shrugged and explained, "I don't see him much and he barely ever talks in class, so I cannot tell you much about him."

"That makes sense..." You nodded. "Lastly, Malleus!"

"Your fae friend, no? He is a very powerful sorcerer. You surely would be safe with an ally like him by your side. Just be aware that with someone like him protecting you, he would be your greatest threat, too, when he can't protect you from himself."

By then, your eyes were wide in admiration for the experience and wisdom that he exuded so effortlessly. One day, you wanted to be like your professor, too. Clasping your hands together in awe, you cried out, "You're so wise!"

"I wouldn't say so myself, but alright," Trein said, chuckling humbly. "But would you like my opinion on Draconia's three retainers, too?"

You nodded eagerly. "Of course!"

"Vanrouge... is very cheerful and yet strangely wise, as if he has lived more years than I did. A very mysterious individual." Trein pursed his lips, once again having a lack of information for these mysterious Diasomnia students. "Silver is very quiet and an invisible fellow while Zigvolt is his complete opposite. I do admire the way Zigvolt protects his dorm leader with such vigour, though."

"Your opinions are so interesting, sir!" you marvelled once he had come to a stop. "And very different from Professor Crewel's."

"Well, I guess that is why Divus and I do not get along," Trein mused, not surprised by your words at all. "People say we are like dog and cat, after all."

You laughed and nodded. "The people who say that are right."

[thesevro]

I absolutely adore your writing! I was wondering if you could write a something super fluffy for Nanami? I don’t mind what it is, just want it super cute and fluffy if possible :)

currently speed-writing for all the asks i haven't answered!! so sorry y'alls it's prolly been two months since you sent these reqs in~~ i'll finish 'em up soon ;3

a.n. thank you for the luv bb <33 have a kith

warnings: mentions of smexy times, waking up to nanami next to you AHOOT

You are the first to wake.

The smooth scent of his body wash tumbles over your senses, and imbued with the deep scent of cologne that lingers on his skin, waking next to Nanami is like rising to olfactory heaven. 

That lasting cologne of his smells strongest on the sides of his neck, and you nuzzle your nose into his skin to breathe him in deep. His snores are soft in your ears. Half-naked body warm on your side. Sunlight splashes the room golden and lights his hair a glowing mess. His eyes are shut, and when you peek from the crook of his neck to look at him, chary of waking him, your head falls on his bare chest at the sight before you. As if Cupid just shot an arrow straight through you. 

You kiss the side of his half-open mouth after watching with the silence of a spellbound lover. He doesn’t wake, head still heavy on your shared pillow. Reluctant as you are to leave, the sun is rising higher but the day is getting a little colder and you went to bed in nothing but your underwear.

You pad through the room, spending some time in the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Even after two years together you still sometimes confuse his shaving cream for toothpaste. Once, he even vaguely threatened to switch your own shaving cream with real toothpaste if you continued to waste his shaving cream. You’d only laughed him off then. You wonder if that’ll be a future mistake of yours.

You step out of the bathroom, finding Nanami awake, looking off to the side, gaze on the sky outside your window. When you emerge from the comfort room he turns and a sleepy smile spreads on his mouth. You bend over to kiss him.

“G’morning,” he says, closing his eyes and enjoying the affection, hands behind his head. He clasps his fingers round the back of your head and pulls you back to his lips when you start to drift away. 

“Ew.” You wrinkle your nose. “You have morning breath.”

“Says the one who lets me spread their legs no matter the smell of my breath,” he says back, eyes opening to reveal mirth in those brown pools, “Remember yesterday morning--”

“Oh shush.” You pull his hand from your head to kiss the inside of his wrist, then finally move away to steal the polo he’d had on before bed. He only contemplates this with a crooked smile. Eyes straying from your shared gaze to observe the round curves of your ass.

“Maybe brush your teeth first,” you tease with a wiggle of your bottom, catching the look in his eyes. “Then I’ll let you take your place here-- Kento!”

You land on the bed with a mighty thump. Nanami’s hands squeeze your sides, keeping you in his arms while he presses his mouth to your ear. You give an involuntary shiver that pleases Nanami. It gets him in a bit of a mood but he’d rather feed you first than fuck you ‘till lunchtime. 

“Pancakes, love?” he broaches, “With chocolate chips? I’ll make them for you.”

“Mhm. From the looks and feel of it you won’t be getting any cooking done anytime soon.” The feel being the hard problem he has to deal with every morning. Nowadays he’s been letting you solve these problems of his even before he wakes up.

“Yeah. You might be right about that, darling,” he chuckles in an undertone when you huff but turn in his arms to face him anyway. “Let me get my fill of you first?” 

“M’kay,” you say into his neck, head under his chin. Nanami goes a little gooey inside. A little soft. He smooths your hair, the gradual veil of drowsy somnolence falling over him. You feel his arms go slack around you half an hour later and carefully slip out of his arms to make breakfast for yourself. You only purse your lips at him and give him a look when he sees you indulging in homemade pancakes by yourself another half hour later. You make up for it with dessert in bed.

[plush-rabbit]

Asmodeus Dating Headcanons

Request: Relationship headcanons for Asmodeus having a chubby bf?

A/N: I hope you like this. I didn’t want to assume that you’re insecure about your weight so I tried to not add that

-

Asmodeus makes a wonderful partner- attentive, caring, always making sure that you are in the spotlight with him and if needed, will provide you a new wardrobe to match with his. While the outfits won’t scream “the typical couple outfits”, it’ll be clear that you two are together with each matching shades or patterns. A relationship with him is something that he treasures for however long it is maintained because at that moment, you are part of his world and how could he ever let you down.

Devildom is home to demons and others alike, beings that come in all sorts of styles. The Avatar of Lust is not picky when it comes to what size or shape his partners should be, preferring for a connection rather than trying to fit into some sort of profile for others. When the two of you begin your relationship, he’s extremely loving towards you- always affectionate and letting his hands sink in your plump arms and thighs, while his nose brushes against the side of your chin. He calls you all sorts of sweet things, love on the tip of his tongue and intertwined with his words. You’re so soft compared to him, your body warm as with soft hands you hold his and he just loves how rounded your fingers are, how he can kiss each tip of the finger and then some.

While he may not want you to change for him- the demon is fond of your own personality and tastes- he would like to occasionally match with you and find outfits that can help accentuate your features- you’re shoulders, waist, the way that you stand tall, the soft curves of your body and whatnot. As long as you’re with him, you’re going to find a style that fits you and makes you feel more you. He’s your everything- your hype man, your stylist, and partner. No matter what you wear, he’ll give his honest opinion, or touch up on the clothing by adding an accessory or removing something.

If you two are going to shop together, it becomes a bit more than just matching outfits. He’d also like for the two of you to have matching nails and will either do them himself or take you to a salon and get a manicure done with you. While he is no professional by any means, he does often prefer for himself to do your nails. Just a simple buffing and applying a nice coat of nail polish. He isn’t sure if he wants your hands to exactly match his or if he’s like a bit of an inverse compared to his. If you rather have a different color, there isn’t much he can do about it. he will playfully whine about it, but it’s all in good fun, nodding along as he applies a different color.

As mentioned previously, Devildom is home to demons and alike with different shapes and sizes so it is easy to find things suited for you. There are all sorts of patterns and outfits to try on- colors that pop against your skin and fabric that doesn’t rise or feel too scratchy. There are patterns that make you feel like a confident partner, walking around in statement shirts and if you find yourself comfortable in something then the outfit is already being rung up at the register. He wants you to feel good about yourself and he understands that a wardrobe holds so much power over that and having an expensive article of clothing and feeling comfortable in it is the way to expand and grow on your confidence.

More often than not, there are times where Asmodeus will completely zone out of whatever is going on in front of him. To the dismay of his eldest brother, it’s usually during meetings. He can’t find himself lingering with attention too long, and subconsciously his hand will reach beside him, his hand clasping around yours as he doodles little drawings over his notebook. His hand will hold yours, and he’ll memorize each small wrinkle of your hand, your nail beds, and the way that your fingers slightly curve. He loves the pillowy feel of it, how he can simply sink his fingers into your palm when he holds your hand. Because of this, he grows brazen, leaning into your touch, letting his hands brush against yours, or his biceps pressed against yours. He’ll hold your hand and ease you to lay on his lap, his attention on the television as his hand knits through your hair. He finds himself unable to pull away, completely enamored with how you feel against him.

The three realms all view body and size differently. Each is loved and cared for, something soft and beautiful but as the years continue and the human realm ticks onward, views do change. The demon is more than understanding when it comes to the human trends and fashions, so he knows that anything edging towards plus size is something rather watched with unblinking eyes. It takes a bit of time for him to find comforting words that actually meet something and he’s patient if you would rather work your way up to more tight fitting clothing or something alike. Emotional and lovely, is what he does best and he wants you to know that he has your back.

Due to the different views in the three realms, there are times where you will hear the demon reminiscence of how the Celestial Realm treated bodies. There’s a bittersweet smile that graces his features as he speaks how each body is meant for love, that the bread is warm to feast on and not to deny. Devildom is no different, bodies of demons and others coming in various sizes that the only difference something makes in attraction would be the class of a demon. He’ll turn to you and he’s excited to hear your views, to nod along and roll his eyes when something distasteful comes up.

Feeding each other is something that the egotistical brother craves. He enjoys the intimacy of it, the way that you trust a demon to be so close to your hand, fangs glistening under the pale moonlight as he bites off a piece of macaroon. He likes the sweet kisses that erupt from it, honey still on his tongue and something fruity and slightly bitter on yours as you press your lips against his. It’s no surprise that he would also take photos for Devilgram of either him feeding you or arms linked with one another, desert on the end of each hand poised at the lips, a moment captured and uploaded for all to be envious of.

It’s no surprise that the Avatar of Lust loves to kiss, but rather than having ones that are passionate and make you lose your breath, he prefers the quick, peppered types. The short kisses that press all over your face and slightly ruffle each other’s hair; the type where you giggle under his feathery touch and call his name in a lovely song. Asmodeus wants nothing more than to just touch you and nuzzle into the soft curve of your neck, to close his eyes and feel your pulse beat against him. He loves to let his kisses press against you in a quick flurry, one where you don’t have time to react and can only laugh as he ends each kiss and begins a new one with the same breath.

[emperor-palpaminty]

Sundown (pt2)

Again, bless you, @hellothere-generalangsty or as your main account is called @weirdcharacter​ ! i love you and your brain is amazing for thinking of this au

Part 1 here!

You stared at Hunter, in shock, the weariness from the day diminishing at his absolute earnestness of the proposal. Your eyes flickered to Olivia, who was grinning, hands clasped together, nodding eagerly.

Your breathe found you, crashing your waves in your lungs. "Olivia, would you mind going downstairs? I think Cid left our suitcases down there."

The child glanced between the two of you and nodded, standing off the bed, and hurrying out. You heard her feet stomping down the steps as Hunter turned back to you.

"Thank you for your concern, Sheriff-"

"Just Hunter. Please."

"... Hunter," You swallowed, jaw tight. "But I don't want you to be pressured to-"

"My first job is to protect y'all." His voice, the gentle southern accent, smooth as molasses tumbling from a pot, enveloped you in warmth. "I'm not being pressured to do anything. Trust me," Hunter smiled gently, hand slowly pressing against yours resting on the blanket. "I wouldn't propose if I didn't want to."

You stared down at his hand, quietly looking over the tanned skin of it- weathered, calloused, rough, but all the kindness was in that grip. You looked up at him again, and inhaled raggedly. "I- Olivia,"

"I'm as much a father to her as a wife to you." He shook his head gently. "Don't go running again. Let me help."

"Marriage is far more serious than simply 'help', Hunter." You found yourself squeezing his fingers, and air found your lungs again. "What will everyone else think?"

He shrugged, and he smelled like leather, cloves, warmth. "Let them think. People 'round here get married often."

You shifted uncomfortably. "I... I can't offer much-"

He held up a hand, eyes firm, but voice soft. "You can sleep in here with Olivia. Protecting means respecting you, and if that's what you feel safest doing-"

You leaned forward, the hand bumping you, and you wrapped your arms around him. Your face landed against his neck as you shook, the tears strangling you. It was over- it was almost over. And Hunter...

"You have no idea," -you gasped. He placed his hands on your back and hugged you against him, gently- "how much that means to us."

Hunter held you, softly. His touch was odd, foreign, but something you realized you could get used to. You were right- he was warm.

He shushed your sobs, tenderly, coming a hand in your loose hair. "Trust me, no one would have any sort of qulams about marrying you- least of all me." His words, sugar through and through, were nonabrasive, open. "Of course, if you don't want to marry me, I'll help you however else I can."

You tugged away, eyes flickering back up to his. "Why?" You said, softly.

Hunter didn't respond, and with the low-lighted amber of his eyes, brilliant in the dark, you really felt like he shouldn't've needed to reply, and their gaze stated that Oh darling, you should know by now.

The steps creaked. Hunter pulled away, hands falling to his lap. "Think on it, sleep-"

"I'll do it." The words tumbled through your cracked lips. You licked them as his head whipped back to you, as Cid stepped in, Omega trailing behind her. "I'll marry you."

Hunter smiled, honest and joyful- it was night time but the room lit up.

"Well?" Cid asked, grunting as she lowered the carpet bag. "Stand up."

Hunter rose and you blinked, looking at the woman as she brushed off her apron and haphazardly attempted to straighten her rolled-up sleeves. "Why?" You asked, lamely.

"So I can marry ya." Cid shrugged.

You glanced at your fiance (the shortest engagement you were aware of by far) and he shrugged. "She's an officiant."

"Oh." You stood, clearing your throat.

Olivia scurried over and pressed a wrinkled daisy into your hand, beaming. "I picked it for you! No wedding shouldn't have flowers."

Your heart melted, and you knelt down, wrapping your arms around her, tightly. She clutched you back, nuzzling her face against you, humming in satisfaction. "I'm so glad I came with you," She whispered, letting you comb a hand in her hair.

You leaned away, scanning her sweet face- young, soft, and you nodded, fighting away the thoughts- she would be alright. She would live. This would be good. "I am, too." You whispered, pressing your forehead tenderly to Olivia's.

"Tick-tock," Cid chided. "Save the hugs for later." She watched as Hunter reached a hand down, gently helping you rise, and his lips curved softly into a smile. Cid cleared her throat, tossing a coil of hair back over her shoulder. "Dearly beloved-" She began.

You half listened, the daisy's stem slick in your palm with sweat. Your heart, your soul was soothed by Hunter's eyes, his light hand still holding yours, not pressing against it too hard. You only snapped back into the world when Cid declared, "All right, y'all can kiss now."

You blinked up at him, the thought making your face red. You drew your own lips in, glancing away momentarily, and Hunter squeezed your hand lightly. "Hey, I'll settle for a hand shake," He whispered.

You found a laugh rising in your throat, and you felt your wrist flick in a light pump. Robotically. You wanted this- if you had to marry a man on this world, it would be him. Hunter. The sheriff.

Your husband.

___

Being married was... odd. You had imagined it being different, perhaps a physical change, or a firey feeling of pride. However... nothing much had changed. You were still you, Olivia was still Olivia, and the only thing that had changed about Hunter was that he was your husband.

The secure feeling still hadn’t come, yet, a week in- that was the change you had most hoped for, and the one you were most unsettled by the fact that it had not come. Even when you were in Hunter’s house, you could have sworn you felt eyes on you.

Hunter must have known. He didn’t want you or Olivia out of his sight for too long. He walked with you through the sunny woods, the sunshine peppering the air. 

Olivia’s favorite spot on Hunter’s land was the nearby river. She stopped by it, eyes skimming over the smooth rocks on the shore, the dips and divets of the creek, where it babbled ad sung over the rocks and logs. “It’s nice here.” She edged towards the water, pausing to glance back at you and Hunter. 

Hunter gently touched your arm, and reassurance flooded through you as he walked to Olivia. He knelt down, reaching down and selecting a rock. “There we go.” He stood up, swinging an arm back, and tossing it, quickly. It skimmed across the surface, bouncing, leaving happy rings in the water before resting in the middle of the river.

Glancing back at you with wide eyes, Olivia giggled, then looked up at Hunter. “How did you do that?”

The dark eyes sparkled, and Hunter smiled- he smiled. “It takes practice. But I can show you.”

Olivia giggled, merry, and picked up a rock. She moved next to Hunter and watched him, mimicking his stance, only for the rock to fall in with a thick plunk.

You laughed, a hand pressing to your chest as Hunter gazed back at you, watching you laugh. He smiled and it reached his eyes and, for a moment, you realized how absolutely safe you finally felt. 

After a moment, Olivia giggled and waded into the water, her skirt skimming the water, and she stooped to grab a few rocks. Hunter watched her, moving from the creek and towards you, stopping by the nearby tree and glancing back at the child. “She’s a great kid.”

“She is.” You smiled, leaning on the trunk, watching Olivia throw the water in the air, laughing happily as the droplets of sunlight rained on her. “I... I do love her. I really do.”

Hunter chuckled, looking sideways at you. “You’re a good mother.”

“I’m not even her mother.”

“Family is who you choose, not who you’re born to.” Hunter sighed, quietly, watching Olivia kick the water. “So... where’s her brother?”

You shrugged, softly. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does. He ran away when she was, oh... five.” You shook your head, quietly, heart aching. “I remember him telling me he would come back for her.”

“So you took her?”

“I had no other choice.” Your gaze flicked up to his. “They were going to kill her, Hunter.”

His brow creased, and he exhaled quietly, nodding. “I’m not saying you made the wrong decision.” Hunter watched Olivia kick the water, laughing as it arched in the air. “I just... I wanted to tell you how brave you are. Both of you.” He paused, and you felt his eyes flick back to your face, gaze tender. “And I think that’s... valuable. Good.”

You looked up at him, inhaling, his eyes too soft, too tender, and you smiled, finally. Your heart did those flips again- the same ones you always got when he looked at you like that, so soft. “Thank you,” You glanced away, feeling your ears pinken. “And I think you are, too. Brave.”

Hunter chuckled and reached down, smoothing back a tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes searching your face, beholding it fully. “Hold your head up, darling,” His lips turned more, and his fingers brushed your face. “You have a good one on your shoulders.”

The eyes, it was his eyes- they made your cheeks pinken, your breathing tight, your heart unsteady.

“Hunter!” Olivia yelled. “I see a fish!”

Hunter looked away, laughing, and he moved away from you, casting a smile back as he waded in next to Olivia. “Coming!”

Your hands plastered to your chest, willing peace upon your heart, and you watched your daughter and husband play in the waves of the creek together.

___

"I like Hunter." Olivia confirmed as she snuggled into the bed, yawning.

Chuckling and fluffing up a pillow, you plunked it down into bed, behind her head. "I do too."

She rubbed her face. "That's why you married him, though."

"That is one reason." You found a hand stroking in her curls, and you smiled.

Olivia yawned again. "Does he know you like him?"

"Hm? Oh." You shrugged, watching her eyelids droop. "I'm sure he does."

"Have you told him?"

Your fingers paused, halfway over her head, briefly. The gazes, the small touches- he had to know. Instead you shrugged, resuming your ritual of brushing your hand in her hair. "No. But sometimes we don't have to tell each other how we feel to know."

“But that’s not how everyone is.” Olivia hummed, hair tangling against the cotton of the pillow. 

The words rang against the dark room, and Olivia’s gentle snores filled the room. She rolled over and hugged the pillow, mumbling in her sleep. You smiled, quietly, leaning down and gently kissing her head before you stood, picking up the candle, and moving towards the stairs.

When you reached the living room, you saw Hunter’s door still open, the haze of his own oil lamp still alight, although it was dim. You blew out the candle, lowering it onto the table, and you walked quietly into his room. Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door, and you spoke softly. “Hunter? You busy?”

The sheriff lowered his book, and he smiled up at you. He was wearing his same loose nightshirt, legs crossed. “You okay?”

Your head bobbed in a nod and you allowed yourself to take a small step in. “I’m fine. I just wanted to thank you for your... kindness over the past few days.”

His eyes ambered in the soft golden glow of the lamp, and he stood, quietly, nodding. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Your eyes graced down his body as he tucked the book back onto the shelf- his muscular thighs were brushed by the light fabric of the shirt, firm forearms pulsing with tendons and muscles that you didn’t even realize were attractive until you had seen them on him. “But I do need to. You didn’t have to marry me and take on Olivia and I, our burdens.” You inhaled, forcing your eyes back to his. “What do you gain?”

Hunter’s eyes danced in the glow as he took a cautious step towards you, leaving a foot or so between you. “I think you know what I gain.” His words were quiet, dangerous, and your heart bounced in your chest.

“Tell me,” You rasped. “Tell me what you gain.”

He licked his lips, glancing away, and he swallowed. “A wife, and a child, and all the luck in the world.”

The air between you both seemed vast, and thick. Your fingers flexed by your side, and your eyes skimmed his face. “Luck?”

His eyes moved away and he exhaled, the glow in his eyes reverberating through the tears gathering. “I’m the luckiest man in the world, if you accepted marrying me.”

Air left your lungs and you felt the need to step in, and retreat, all at the same time. The space in his words, the breath in his lungs, and you felt your feet move forwards, towards him. “Hunter, you chose to ask me.”

“And I don’t regret it, any of it.” He paused. “I do regret you’re running from a cult, though.”

You chuckled and shook your head, fingers tugging at your braid. “Yeah, I wish I could have given Olivia more. But we both really appreciate you. A lot.”

Hunter seemed to reciprocate your movements and stepped closer, and his eyes skimmed your face. “I appreciate you, too.” He watched your expression, catching every twitch, every blink, and you knew if looks could kill you would be near dead under those eyes right now, and you wouldn’t mind, because it would be a death of bliss.

Softly, you reached up, taking his cheek, and you leaned up on your toes, pressing your lips softly to the rough skin of his birth mark. It was warm, gentle, and so very Hunter. He closed his eyes and his eyelashes tickled your cheek, as you pulled away. “Good night, Hunter,” You whispered, backing away and retreating back into the dark house and up the stairs.

___

You didn’t realize how dangerous you were until the situation called for it.

Hunter and Olivia were outside, down by the river, and you were inside, absentmindedly chopping apples. He had a few apple trees, and you had made sure to take advantage of it. Olivia had grown too fond of the fruit, at least that was what you teased her about.

A gunshot sounded outside, and you stopped chopping. Your feet ran to the doorway and you flung it open, grabbing the nearby shotgun resting at the door. You pumped it, once, and ran down the porch, sprinting down towards the river.

You stopped at the small cove, staring at the two tall men- those red eyes, you knew them, and the tall man, standing placidly, fingers folded in front of him... 

You crept closer, swinging the shotgun up as Lama Su spoke. “So just give us the child, and tell us where the woman is-”

“Right here, you bastard.” You snarled, pumping the shotgun, pressing the cold metal barrel into his back.

The red eyed man turned around, gun whirling towards you. You only glared at him, anger boiling in you. “You shoot me, and the guy that pays you is dead.”

Su raised a hand, motioning the man to turn back to Hunter and Olivia. “Bane, please, eyes on the child. And, my oh my. Why, look who it is.” He smiled and started to turn, eyes blank, placid in the sun. You shuddered at how white they were, thin whisps of his blonde hair twisting in the breeze. “Our little runaway. Your parents were so worried about you.”

“When I left, I left everyone, including my parents.” You took a step back, eyes flicking to the bounty hunter. 

“But you didn’t leave her.”

“I’m not letting her die,” You spat, watching as Hunter gently tugged Olivia behind him. “You won’t have her, you’ll have to kill me first.”

“Oh, you’re married, so we have no concern of you.” Su chuckled quietly and shook his head, moving towards you. You fought to retain your ground, and you snarled at him, actually baring teeth. “However, we do want the omega of the Fetts.” His eyes glistened, and Su reached out to touch the barrel of the gun, pressing it away softly. “The blood of Fett-”

You raised your gun, throat tight. “Is not yours.” You hissed. “Get out of here before I blow a hole in that head of yours.”

“Bane,” Su said, calmly. “Get the child.”

“No!” Hunter growled, tugging Olivia behind him. 

“She isn’t even your child.” Su rolled his eyes, turning back to look at Hunter, watching Bane walk into the water. “Why would you want her?”

Hunter glared at him, fists balling up, and he ran towards the man, grabbing at the gun. Olivia screamed, watching him, balling up the rock in her hand. She threw it at Su, who only kept a smile on his face as the rock fell short.

Your finger hovered over the trigger and you shook, and stared at Hunter as he and Bane fell into the water, wrestling for the gun. You yelled for him, picking up the shotgun and swinging it, the butt of the gun hitting the back of Lama Su’s head. The man who had hurt you, haunted you, all these years, grasped his head and crumpled. A gunshot went off, and you screamed, running towards the water, and Olivia ran towards Hunter and the bounty hunter, one of them limp in the water.

___

You tightened the bandage on Hunter’s arm. “There,” You said, quietly. “Patched up.”

Hunter nodded, laying his hand on the bandaged wound. Olivia had nestled into his other arm, and she was sleeping. “Thanks.”

You reached down and smoothed back his hair, watching him. “I... Hunter, thank you.”

“You saved my life back there, you know.” Hunter mumbled, leaning back on the pillows. “If you hadn’t come when you did-”

“I had to.” You reached over to Olivia and brushed down her hair. She shifted and mumbled, then settled against him. “I have to keep you safe, it’s the least I can do.”

Hunter nodded, quietly, then said gently, “So, what do you get out of this?”

“Out of what?”

“Us.” Hunter looked up at you, gaze soft, and eyelids heavy. He yawned quietly, watching you with his sharp eyes, which were now blunt with exhaustion. “Our marriage.”

You chuckled, glancing at his arm wrapped around Olivia, hold tender around her. “I get a good husband and Olivia gets a good father.” You leaned down, gently kissing his head again. “Get some sleep.”

You rose, moving the quilt around him, and as you left the room, going to lock the front door, the confession knocked on your heart as loudly as it possibly could. Love. I love you. You just weren’t quite sure if you had it from him yet and, until you knew, you decided that your love could be quiet for just a little bit longer.

[ha-hatdog]

little one / daisuke kambe

i definitely did not swoon while writing this. again, i did not know if you wanted hcs or one shot but i'll go with one shot. this is a good time to post this since the latest episode showed pics of smol daisuke omg. also, the name of your son is kakeru - yes, as in kakeru from run with the wind lmao

and to those who are saying i should add read more to my long fics, i really want to but i don't have a laptop or computer. i write everything on my phone, on the tumblr app. so if you know how to add read more in posts using the app, then please do dm me. thank chu💛

requested by anon: one where daisuke and reader have a two year old son together? lots of fluff

UNEDITED

__

Your palm concealed your amused lips, a snort emanating from your wrinkled nose as you took in the sight before you.

Kambe Daisuke was a man of little words and little expressions, and even now, after being married to you for four years and having a son who was now at the age of two, that has not changed. He was still the stoic and cool detective millionaire you have met many years ago - which is exactly what makes the unfolding scene before you much more hilarious.

Monotonous Daisuke, the same man you had seen take down criminals twice his size, was haphazardly sprawled on your carpeted ground, arms and legs outstretched, cheek pressed flat against the material of the carpet as a smaller and cuter carbon copy of him perched comfortably on his back, oblivious to the position he had set his father on, doing nothing but lie down on his father's back and sleep soundly, eyes closed, snoring and wearing such an adorable sleeping face that it was difficult not to coo.

The sight alone was already adorably hilarious, but seeing the genuine distress on Daisuke's face had you doubling over, your palm muffling your laughter.

"Look at you," You whispered at him by the doorframe, your knees bent and your other hand sliding along the frame of the door. "You look so dumb, Daisuke."

"I'm happy at least you find this amusing, but I do not." Your husband responded back in an ired puff, azure eyes glaring at you from the floor. It took all of you not to swoon.

"Don't look at me like that, my love. I can't take you seriously when our son is using you as a mattress." Daisuke's glare intensified, but as your previous statement suggested, all purpose of threat was dulled by the position he was in. "How did you even get yourself in this situation?"

"I find it unnecessary to tell you." Answered Daisuke, and from how his cheeks tinged red, you could only assume it was something embarassing. "Will you help me, love? Take Kakeru off of my back."

You shifted your gaze back to your slumbering son, and a fond smile sprouted on your brims.

Sometimes you wonder how you were even able to make this precious, big eyed, nuzzling baby. He was an exact copy of Daisuke, not a single hint of your genes. Blank face, quiet, raven hair, blue eyes, the little shine in his eyes whenever he saw you - it was like seeing Daisuke when he was a child, and it was because of this fact that you were at least feeling a little bit alright with your son having no semblance with you.

"Kakeru," You whispered to your son as you stepped closer to your best boys with quiet footfalls, and he scrunched his face ay the brief interruption of your cooing voice. You stopped yourself from squishing his cute little face, and knelt down beside them. "Kake -"

Your sentence was cut off when you felt a hand under your knee. Immediately, Daisuke retracted his hand away, hurling your way a soft glare. "Watch where your knee is going."

You chuckled at his dilemma and reached down to stroke his head. "Mattresses don't talk, Daisuke."

"Normal people don't talk to mattresses." Countered Daisuke, huffing and averting his gaze away from you. You stifled your laughter as his pout grew more prominent. It might be very obvious already with how Daisuke has everything handed over to him with a single breath, but your husband absolutely hated losing in any forms ; even in your daily banter, he must always have the last word. People often mistakenly thought that you, being his darling wife that he had persistently courted for a whole year, would be exempted to this childish pettiness you consistently deny her allegations, firmly believing you were receiving the worse end of it. This man cannot forget the times you have successfully reigned victory over his own game, months or weeks, it never failed to be permanently ingrained in his mind ; and this resulted to puzzling moments which goes by a chronological sequence - a relatively normal day, an opportunity to divulge the opening you have unknowingly presented before his feet, and then comes his last word, to which he will remind you as your confused face stared back at him when his out of the blue statement has originally birthed from.

However, there was only one person who could defeat him at that, would never let him get the last word and that is your son Kakeru. As you stared at his sleeping face, you cannot help but smile as you reminiscent that particular day.

***

Haru Kato has been invited to your house to meet Kambe Kakeru. Daisuke has been mildly cross with Haru meeting his son because he was petty and said that Kakeru needed no other man than him but seeing that Daisuke has become good friends with Haru in the two years they were partners, you insisted that he meets him. It was already unfair that Haru had to wait until Kakeru was two to meet him, the first and last time he saw him being after you had given birth (Daisuke only let him have a glimpse then pushed him out of the hospital room because he doesn't want Kakeru thinking he was his father).

"Kakeru," You chided as you crouched beside your son who was hiding behind Daisuke's legs and peering at the gray haired male, eyes curious yet cautious. "Don't you want to meet Uncle Haru?"

Haru stepped closer to the three of you, bent down near Kakeru's height, and outstretched his hand for him to shake. "Hey there, Kakeru." Haru greeted with a smile.

Kakeru recoiled and hid himself further behind Daisuke, hands around his pants tightening. "Daddy," He whimpered. "Bad man."

Haru's face fell at the enunciation, and you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. Daisuke stared blankly at Haru as his hand travelled behind his back to stroke Kakeru's head. "You heard my son. Get out of here, bad man." Daisuke uttered his command.

A tick mark appeared on Haru's forehead at Daisuke's vocalization and before things could escalate out of the power of your responsibility, you interjected, regaiming your proper posture and clasping your hands together. "Kakeru is just wary of Haru because this is the first time he's seeing him, no need to fight." You told them off.

"No, Haru is just naturally scary." Daisuke stated with bantering finality.

"This is coming from a man who barely smiles." Argued Haru, scowling.

"And this is coming from someone who seems to be making a living screaming at me." Countered Daisuke.

Kakeru's eyes widened at what his father had said and shot Haru a small glare, yet his stance never wavered from its hiding place. "He screams at daddy . . . " Murmured Kakeru in a thoughtful trance, and pointed at Haru, shocking all three of you. "D-Don't scream at daddy again!"

Alarm made its way to Haru's facr at the accusation. "No, I have not once yelled at your dad - "

Daisuke turned around and knelt in front of Kakeru. Daisuke stared into his son's eyes and Kakeru stared back. "Don't listen to him, Kakeru. You should never listen to him, never ever. He makes daddy get all angry when we're doing police missions together."

"O-Oi," Haru inserted, fuming. "You're the one who always makes me mad! Don't turn the child on me!"

But Kakeru was not listening to Haru, as his beloved father has told him. Kakeru nodded firmly, lips curling. "Yes, daddy." He vouched in determination.

"Daisuke, stop it." You chastised, sighing and turned to the other detective that was not using your son to his advantage. "Sorry about this, Haru. Kakeru really looks up to Daisuke so he does anything he tells him to."

Kakeru, all of a sudden, began trotting away from the three of you, leaving all of you confused. After a few minutes, Kakeru returned, a determined look on his face.

"Kakeru, sweetheart, where did you go?" You asked as you approached him. "It's rude to leave our guest hanging, you know."

"Fight bad man," You and Haru gasped in horror when your son suddenly brandished a gun to Haru, not just a toy, but a real one. His tiny hands trembled as he was not used to the weight of the metal weapon burdening his grasp, and he was still glaring at Haru. "I pew pew bad guy, mommy, like daddy do with bad guys!"

"Kakeru, where did you get that gun?" You questioned, alarmed and and genuinely frightened. You looked to your husband to assess his reaction, but much to your mortification, Daisuke looked calm as he always is, as if your son wasn't capable of hurting a person as of the moment. "Daisuke, what the hell?"

You let out a yelp when Kakeru turned to you, and in the process, turned the gun to you. "Bad word, Mommy." He scolded. "I don't like."

Daisuke drawled. "It's not a big deal."

Haru growled. "Your son has a weapon! How are you not freaking out?" He then turned to Kakeru and extended his hand. "Give me the gun, Kakeru. Give it."

But Kakeru shook his head defiantly. "No!"

Daisuke frowned at his wife and his partner. "Why are you making a big fuss about this?" He questioned. "It's unloaded and the safety is on."

At the mention of those, you and Haru felt a brief sense of relief until Haru spoke out, "Just because it's unloaded doesn't mean it's okay!"

"It's basically a toy." Retorted Daisuke.

You walked towards your husband and pulled at his ear. His face did not at all change, seemingly expecting this reaction from you. "Daisuke, where did he even get the gun? Has one of yours been just lying around his reach?" This concerned you. If your son was able to get a weapon easily, what more is your husband letting him get?

"I gave him one." Answered Daisuke.

"And why would you give our two year old a gun?" You snapped at him.

"Kakeru said he wanted to hold a gun. Just like you, I said no." Daisuke glanced over at Kakery who was watching the three of you curiously. "However - " He turned back to you, and looked away. " - he's too adorable, as you might say."

You and Haru, in unison, slapped your hands to your forehead, exasperated with Daisuke's response.

"Kakeru probably looked sad when Daisuke said no." Haru remarked. "I can't blame him to be honest."

"He's spoiling him in ways too many." You added, and removed your hand from your forehead. "Daisuke, I know you love our son and pampering him but he can't just have a gun."

"Why, mommy?" You all looked at Kakeru, and immediately understood why Daisuke was forced to give him an unloaded gun. "Not love me?"

"A-Ah," You shrieked, horrified. "The secret move!"

Haru gulps. "This boy knows a little too much about his abilities."

"Even if it doesn't have any bullets?" Daisuked asked you.

You hurtled him a glower. "Even if it doesn't have any bullets and yes, even if it has the safety lock on." You immediately added when you saw Daisuke open his mouth.

Said man huffed. "Fine. If I knew you were going to react like this, I wouldn't have done it."

You and Haru watched as Daisuke knelt down in front of your son. Kakeru stared at his father, eyes wide and admiring. Daisuke lets out a sigh and extended his palm, "Give."

Kakeru shook his head vigorously, and his face scrunched as if he was going to cry but was trying to suppress it. "Daddy no love me too?"

You waited for what Daisuke would do, but he did not move. More seconds has passed, and he was yet to move. You and Haru exchanged glances before you moved over to him, checking him out. "Daisuke, love, what - Daisuke?"

A torn man was what Daisuke coukd be called at that moment. His face was deadpanned, but being with him longer than anyone else, you were able to pick up the small difference his expression held right now.

"U-Uh, Daisuke, are you okay?" You questioned in a form of a titter, eyebrows connected. "Daisuke?"

Haru walked over to Daisuke and leaned to look at him. "A-Ah, he looks like he's suffering."

"No, no," Denied Daisuke, frown deepening as he tried not to fall for his son's adorable trap. "Daddy loves you. But mommy and I agreed that you can't have that kind of toy, Kakeru."

"But," You all drew in a breath Kakeru hugged the gun to his chest, tears prodding the corners of his eyes. "My favorite toy is this."

"But why that, baby?" You asked softly. "You have so many other toys. Why that one?" You recalled the heaping amount of toys Daisuke bought for Kakeru.

Kakeru pouted, cheeks puffing. You couldn't help but imagine little Daisuke like that. "Because Daddy gave me this." Said Kakeru. "I want to be police, like daddy."

Daisuke turned to you, the internal struggle in his eyes prominent but you shook your head at him. Your husband sighed and looked at Kakeru again. He put his hand on top his head and ruffled his hair. Kakeru closed his eyes at the affection, welcoming it and his rigid frame loosening. Kakeru opened his eyes and let out a small noise of surprise as Daisuke wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

From what you can deduce, you knew Daisuke was about to say something brilliant to your son, to teach him something valuable. But before Daisuke could even open his mouth, Haru cut him off -

"A gun doesn't make a cop, Kakeru. It's the sense of justice to do the right thing and keeping people safe does." Haru then proceeded to take out his badge and handing it to Kakeru with a large smile on his face. "You can borrow this for a while, while I'm still here. As much as I want to give it to you, I need it to do my job as a cop. But maybe in the future, you can get one of your own. You'll be just like your dad."

You were impressed by what Haru had said, but Kakeru - his eyes were wide and glittering with admiration as he stared at Haru, all fear of the bad man gone. You swear that there was light all around Haru if you're ever seeing through Kakeru's eyes. But one member of the group disliked this mild change, and it was your irritated and pouting husband.

You covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. Daisuke was obviously feeling jealous of Haru now that his son was ignoring him - the emotion only worsening when Kakeru took the badge from Haru and dropped the gun on the ground and stared at the shiny object, whispering, "Uwahh,"

A cloud of dread hung over Daisuke and you patted his back in comfort. "There, there, Daisuke, he's just making a friend."

"But why with Haru?" Grumbled Daisuke, sulking. "And why is he looking at him like that? I should be the only one he's looking at like that. You too, I guess."

You let out a sigh. "You're really jealous when it comes to me and Kakeru."

Haru looked proud of the achievement and improvement he had made with Kakeru, his hands over his hips. "Looks pretty cool, right?"

Kakeru nodded enthusiastically, examining the badge thoroughly. "Very cool." He murmured, and then stared at Haru intently, lips pursing. "I wanna be like Mister Haru when I grow up!"

That was the first time you have seen Daisuke speechless and the last time Haru had seen Kakeru for six months. You were certain Daisuke did not speak to Haru for about two weeks, only communicating through nods and grunts, and Haru did not know whether to feel relieved or irritated at that. Maybe a little bit of both.

But, that was the only time Daisuke did not have the last word.

Kakeru certainly has Daisuke around his little finger.

***

You reached forward and shook Kakeru awake softly. "Kakeru," You chimed, and he scrunched his face again, not wanting to be disturbed sleeping on Daisuke's back. "Wake up, baby,"

Kakeru let out a small groan, and slowly opened his eyes. A familiar pair of blue hues greeted you, the same eyes that you wake up to every morning. Kakeru let out a big yawn and rubbed his left eye with his hand, groaning out, "Mommy," He then looked down at Daisuke who was craning his head to watch his son. "And Daddy."

You smiled at him and opened your arms, hands making grabby movements towards your two year old. "Come here, baby," You cooed sweetly.

Kakeru perked up and a glimmer crossed his eyes, the same glimmer when Daisuke had seen you for the first time. You could never forget that time, and you can never find it more beautiful than seeing that in your son's eyes whenever you offer him affection. Immediately, the two year old scrambled out of Daisuke's back - Daisuke grunted as his little feet padded on his back a few times as he struggled to get to your lap and arms - and sunk in your embrace. Your eyes grew gentler as Kakeru snuggled closer to your chest, cheek rubbing on your clothing and his hands clinging to the fabric.

"Are you tired, baby?" You questioned as you stroked the back of his head, finger running over his hair.

Kakeru nodded tiredly. "Daddy played cops and robbers with me."

"Let me guess, you were the cop and he was the robber?" You commented.

"Yes, and I captured Daddy many, many times." Answered Kakeru, proud with himself.

"Oh, is that so? That's amazing, baby. You're going to be a great cop like Daddy." You then turned over to Daisuke who was now recovering from being used as a bed. He dusted himself as he sat properly on the ground in front of you. "Is that why you were under him? Because you were arrested?"

Daisuke looked away. "I think I need to teach him how to properly apprehend a criminal."

You giggled. "When he's older, Daisuke."

He faced you with a sharp twist of his face, expression determined. "He won't grow older."

You frowned. "What?"

You and Daisuke looked down to see Kakeru fighting the need to sleep, his eyes opening and closing.

"I don't . . . " Daisuke trailed off, and a trace of embarassment scrawled on his face. You rarely see your husband embarassed and so you waited for him to continue. " . . . I don't want Kakeru to grow up."

You shook your head lightly, smile broadening. "Daisuke," You whispered, and when he did not look at you, you called him again. "Love, look at me."

He did so, and with one hand, you cradled his face. "I know how you feel. I understand where you're coming from. But - " You mused. " - don't you want to see our son grow up to be a fine man? To be the person he aspires to be? To be like you?"

Daisuke stares back at you, and took a gander at Kakeru who was beginning to fall asleep. He lets out a sigh and nodded in agreement, "I guess that would be pleasant to see."

"And he'll marry a great girl." You added.

"Marry mommy," Kakeru drawled. He was forcing himself to stay awake but his eyes was not cooperating with his spirits.

Daisuke scooted closer to both of you and brushed his knuckles on Kakeru's forehead. "Marry mommy? You're going to take mommy away from me?"

Kakeru shook his head. "Marry someone like mommy," One of his hand extended and took hold of Daisuke's shirt, the other still clinging to you. Kakeru looked up at both of you, still comfortable in your lap and chest. His eyes, again, were bright. "I want family like me, and mommy, and daddy."

Warmth swathed your chest, your heart melting. You took a gander to Daisuke and saw that the expression he wore - love, care, and the promise of sacrifice when it comes to it and when he looked at you, the emotions never faltered, and they only grew stronger. Sometimes you wonder just how much Daisuke loved you and Kakeru.

"A family like the three of us." Kakeru let go of your clothing and showed three fingers of his and quickly pressed the three digits together. "A happy family."

Kakeru fell asleep after his statement. His arm dropped and his head moved to one side, his eyes closed and lips parted.

"We should tuck him in." Daisuke declared.

"Yeah," You agreed and Daisuke helped you stand up, making sure you two aren't waking your sleeping son. You moved him to his bed, setting him down the mattress gently. Daisuke took the liberty of putting the blanket over Kakeru. Your child shifted in his spot, and cuddled to his pillow.

You sat on the bed beside Kakeru, observing your son. "Already tired when the morning has just barely started." You chuckled.

"He said he needed practice to be a cop, and I couldn't say no." Daisuke inserted.

"You can never say no to Kakeru anyways." You jested.

"Same with you." Daisuke knelt down beside the bed, arms resting on the mattress and his head level with his son's. He admired Kakeru, his deadpan expression gone and a small smile on his face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kakeru's cheek, lingering for a while before pulling away.

Daisuke faced you and you raised an eyebrow as he took your hand.

"You have given me a beautiful son. Thank you so much, my love."

[kaistarus]

Welcome Home

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 1.3K

Summary: Nishinoya is visiting Japan after being away for a while, but when his sister forgets to pick him up he thinks he’s stranded.

A/N: This idea has been festering for a while. I’ve been wanting to write a Nishinoya airport fic since I started writing for him so here it finally is lol

Masterlist

Nishinoya rolled his shoulder, leaning against the headrest in front of him while he gazed out the small window. The slick ground was lined with blinking red lights-the only source of guidance in the pitch-black night as the plane rolled slowly toward the loading dock. He watched crew members in neon vests chat while loading cargo into the plane in the closest gate before the pilot gave parting instructions.

The sound faded to the background with the rest of the passenger’s chatter as he tugged his duffel from the overhang. He yawned, palming an eye as he shuffled toward the jetwalk with the other exhausted travelers. His eyes landed on an elderly couple whose hands were clasped together as they sleepily moved in front of him.

A pang struck Nishinoya’s chest.

It had been a long time since Nishinoya had been back in Japan. He loved traveling-meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, eating new food-but sometimes it was hard not having a permanent place to call home. 

He ruffled through his pocket to pull his phone as the familiar scene of the airport came into view. The flow of people continued toward the baggage claim as he fished for his eldest sister’s contact.

“Hey, Yuu,” she yawned into the receiver. Nishinoya furrowed his brow and the sound of sheets ruffling.

“I just landed.”

The line was quiet for a moment. “That was today?”

His grip on the phone tightened. “What do you mean ‘that was today?’ we’ve been talking about this for months?”

Nishinoya’s shoulders stiffened when he realized a few people were glaring at him for raising his voice, including a woman bouncing a small child nobody wanted awake. He smiled warily before turning away, clenching his teeth in frustration. “We talked about it yesterday.”

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” she said nonchalantly. The amount of control it took him not to yell was painful.

“How am I supposed to get back?”

“Metro or something?”

“Metro or some-” He scoffed. “It’s a three hour fucking drive. It would be like five or six hours with how many transfers I’d have to-”

“Why don’t you call (Y/N)?” She yawned again, cutting him off and setting his blood boiling. “I’m sure they’d give you a ride.”

Nishinoya felt everything freeze and his grip on the phone tightened. “They’re busy.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“Shut up,” he growled. “You said you were coming, so that’s what-”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“What do you mean I’ll-” The line went dead and he stared slack jaw at his phone.

What the actual fuck had just happened. He shoved his phone deep in his pocket, seething as he stomped down the staircase toward the baggage claim. He supposed he could call Asahi or Tanaka, but with how long the drive was he may as well just get himself home and not waste their time.

He didn’t even humor a cab with how expensive it would be.

Nishinoya wanted to call you. He wished for every excuse to call you, but you informed him you were too busy to see him. After over a year of not seeing each other Nishinoya had imagined you’d drop everything when he said he was coming back, but at your casual reaction he had felt his heart break. He wasn’t sure if he could even bring himself to pull up your contact.

He groaned, instead rehearsing the speech he was going to give his sister once he kicked down her door. How the hell had she forgotten? She had been the one who bought his plane ticket to Japan. She had been the one who reminded him of his flight that day. She had even nagged him about not packing last minute like he usually did.

He stomped dramatically once he got off the stairs, his eyes flickering at people meeting their loved ones who actually cared enough to pick them up. He watched family’s hug, friends poke at vending machines, some weirdo slept against a wall, people answered cheery phone calls, unlike his that had been-. Nishinoya did a double take and his steps slowed as his brain processed the sleeping weirdo.

He abruptly turned and crept over, crouching in front of the person who he did in fact know.

You were slumped beside a vending machine, your head hanging limp to the side with your sweatshirt bundled for a pathetic pillow. Your arm was slung across your stomach and in your hand was your cell phone, blinking with unread notifications. In your other hand was a small poster board that Nishinoya’s hand was levitating toward.

Your nose wrinkled and you let out a soft whine, shuffling around before your eyes slowly blinked open. Nishinoya smirked, hiding that his heart was racing a million miles a second.

“Good morning.”

Your eyes took a while to focus and he could see the cogs in your brain turning before your eyes widened. He opened his mouth to tease you, but you were diving forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before he could get a word out, knocking him flat on his butt.

“You’re here,” you laughed, pulling back and cradling his cheeks, then you pressed his cheeks firmly and furrowed your brow. “You’re here…” Panic struck your face. “You’re here.”

Nishinoya blinked at the stages of grief you’d gone through and nodded in your grasp. “I’m here.”

“Oh no,” you leaned forward and placed your head against his chest. “I fell asleep.”

“You did.” He tugged your hands off his cheeks, coaxing your head off his chest and smiling at you softly. “You’re lucky someone didn’t steal your stuff.”

“That’s not what I-” You groaned, sitting back. “I wanted to be here to see you and I made a stupid sign like your always talking about and it was going to be romantic.”

He cocked his head to the side, mulling what you said over before reaching for the poster from earlier. On the back he read your neat handwriting ‘Ride for Nishinoya Yuu’ and his chest filled with warmth. He always complained to you about everyone having a cool chauffeur when he landed places, so this was your lame attempt at giving him that.

He met your disappointed look and with an affectionate stare, pulling you back against his chest.

“I love you so much,” he confessed. Nishinoya felt you grip the front of his shirt and he pulled away and panicked when he heard a sniffle. “Are you crying?”

“No, shut up.”

“Liar,” he smirked, wiping at a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “You’re totally crying.”

“I said, shut up,” you palmed your cheeks. “I missed you, okay? Sue me.”

Nishinoya’s heart swelled at the confession and he felt like an idiot for ever thinking you would stop caring about him. He leaned his forehead against yours, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “I missed you too.”

“Sorry, I lied,” you mumbled, lightly holding the wrist of the hand holding your face. “I wanted to surprise you, but you sounded sad and I felt terrible.”

Nishinoya leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours shortly and pulling back with a dopey smile. “I love you.”

You matched his smile, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you, too.” You nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “Welcome home.”

He let those words sink in as he wrapped his arms around you, sitting on the floor of the airport while his duffel rotating forgotten on the nearby luggage claim. He felt silly, how moments earlier he’d been thinking about how he wandered with nowhere to call home when his home was right here.

His hold around you tightened.

His home was you.

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Je T’aime (T.C.)

Another request for the angel, @thestarsaregivenonceonly​ . This is sooo fluffy, but I think we all could use a bit of that right now. Hope you enjoy, doll 😘

(fluffy smut for the soul, jealousy)

“Timmy, you’re making a mess!”

You were incredibly grateful that your boyfriend had found a project that kept him in New York for a few months. You’d just recently moved in together and were getting into each other’s rhythms. This included working on dinners together, much to your delight.

You squealed, trying to dodge Timotheé’s attempts to smear tomato sauce on your face.

“Just let it happen! You know you can’t outrun me,” he taunted, cornering you against the counter. He swiped it across your nose while you giggled and twisted away, spreading the sauce in a stripe across your cheek. “Ha! Gotcha!” he cheered, licking the last of it from his thumb.

“You’ll regret this, Chalamet,” you replied, wrinkling up your nose and poking him in the chest.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” He wiggled his eyebrows and locked you between him and the counter with his arms.

You ducked below his arm and slipped free. “Because, I’m going to use ALL the garlic! Not only that, but then I’m going to make you kiss me ALL night,” you replied smugly as you spread the fresh garlic cloves evenly across your flatbread.

Timotheé whined loudly behind you as he pulled a paper towel from the roll. “Ruuuuude. But fair is fair, I suppose.” He grinned, wiping the sauce from your face. “You’re much less intimidating without your Italian war paint.”

You giggled, standing up on your tiptoes to peck his lips before returning your attention to the ingredients before you. You opted for a few slices of fresh mozzarella, some basil, and a sprinkling of olives. Once you finished, you popped into the preheated oven. You caught Tim singing softly, his body moving to the music playing from your phone as he happily assembled his own pizza. A wave of adoration for the lanky boy washed over you, and you wandered over to wrap your arms around his middle.

“Hi,” he chuckled, patting your arm while his eyes fretted about to choose what flavor combo struck him that evening.

“Hi,” you hummed happily, watching him intently as he piled on more and more. “There’s no way you’re going to eat all of that!”

“We never eat two pizzas! We need to have people over on pizza night,” he replied, turning around, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands.

“I guess we are all the way moved in now and could do that,” you thought aloud, swinging your clasped hands. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Well, I was talking to C/S about coming over for drinks sometime this week. Maybe we could invite her,” he suggested casually, releasing your hands to put his own flatbread into the oven.

Of course.

You felt your elated mood drop sharply upon the mention of her name. The media had erupted with excitement when it was announced that they would be working together, and, as always, the fans began “shipping” them right away. Now, you’d been trying very, VERY hard to not feel insecure about all of it, and Timotheé always assured you that the relationship was strictly professional. While you had learned to brush off the media’s intense assumptions, it was hard to ignore it coming directly from the source. He often came home with wild stories that seemed to all circulate around her, even mentioning pet names they’d developed for each other. He knew you were sensitive about it, but it felt like he didn’t even try to hold back. You tried so hard to ignore your insecurities. You knew he would never sneak around on you, that this was just how co-stars interacted, and he was just one of those magnetic people who makes close friends rather quickly. But no matter what you told yourself, the little, green monster in you refused to let it go.

“Oh,” you replied dumbly, cursing yourself for letting it slip.

Timotheé turned around, his brow furrowed. “Oh?”

“I just- I mean don't you think that would be kind of awkward? Just the three of us?”

“Nah. She’s been wanting to meet you, remember?” Could he really not see what was going on?

“I don't know… Don’t you want to just.. be home? I mean you see her all day, right?” You cringed, hearing how blatantly jealous you sounded.

“Oh, babyyyyy. This isn’t about her at all is it? Are you jealous?” he cooed with a grin, cupping your cheek. He clearly found this all very amusing.

You pulled away, feeling horribly embarrassed. “I’m not jealous! I just figured you’d want some time to yourself,” you insisted, busying yourself by checking in the oven.

“Ahhh, you are! Look how blushed your cheeks are! Somebody has a crush on meeee,” he sang, hugging you tightly from behind.

“Timmy, stop it,” you choked, suddenly on the brink of tears. You were humiliated.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey, love, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” His demeanor completely switched, turning you around to look at him. Worry filled his features, making you crack. Like the flip of a switch, you were suddenly sobbing into his shirt, leaving him wholly confused and concerned. “Baby girl, what is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded.

You pulled back, wiping your eyes harshly. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” The timer chimed and you turned around, pulling dinner from the oven.

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Just tell me what is going on- Is this about C/S?” he pressed, his hands gently rubbing up and down your arms.

You sniffled, turning around to face him. God, he was a saint. He was nearly in tears himself as he fought to understand what could possibly have you this upset. You took a deep breath, trying to find the least confrontational way to express what you were feeling. “I-I just.. I’m having a hard time with everything this time, for some reason. I just feel like maybe she’s new and more exciting, and you’d rather have her around than me.” You felt even more ridiculous saying it out loud, but you couldn’t deny your own insecurities.

Timmy shook his head, clearly pained by your words. He pulled you into his chest, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Mon amour, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way. I’d choose to have you around over anyone in this entire world, you know that right?”

You sighed, letting out a weak laugh. “Yes, I do. I just have such a hard time believing it sometimes.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “The only reason I reacted the way I did was because I can’t even imagine loving someone the way that I love you; it’s a whole other breed of love. I can’t imagine you being jealous over little, ole me,” he laughed, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Ugh, stop being so perfect,” you groaned with a smile, hiding your face in his shoulder. It was amazing the way he could soothe your worries in a matter of sentences.

“No, god, don't say that.” He shook his head, holding you close with one hand tucked securely at the nape of your neck. “And trust me when I tell you…” He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing over the shell of your ear. “No one excites me like you do.”

You shivered at his change in tone, peering up at him with flushed cheeks. “Yeah?”

He held your face, tilting his head as he captured your lips with his in a kiss so tender you thought you might faint. His tongue skipped across your bottom lip, lightly tugging it between his teeth. “Absolutely,” he breathed. “Let me show you?”

You blushed darkly, giving him a nod. He took your hand and tugged you off to your bedroom, dinner forgotten for the moment. You let him push you into bed and pull your leggings down your legs while you made quick work of your shirt, leaving you in a lacy bralette and matching panties. He groaned at the sight, his head falling against your stomach before looking up at you. “You don’t even know what you do to me; it’s so unfair.” His voice was low and needy, making you ache.

You laughed softly, sitting up to pull off his shirt. He cupped your face and kissed you deeply before you could get distracted with him. He wanted you to know that this was all for you tonight. He sucked on your lower lip, asking for entrance. You happily obliged, releasing soft sounds of pleasure into his mouth. He seemed to have this way of kissing you that made you feel all of his attention and adoration for you. No one had ever made you feel the way he did, and that’s why the thought of losing him to another terrified you so much. You hoped that he felt the same flips in his stomach for you.

“Come back to me,” he whispered gently, sensing your overthinking as though you were saying it out loud. You met his eyes, so full of love and concern. “I will spend every day of my life convincing you- I intend to, if you’ll have me.” He pressed kisses to your forehead, nose, chin, and travelled down your neck.

“Yes. Please,” you responded breathlessly. “I need you.”

Feeling just as needy, Timothee slipped out of his sweats and boxers, settling between your thighs and wrapping your legs around himself. He carefully pressed into your warmth, his eyes fluttering closed as you clenched around him. You would never tire of watching him feel good, no matter the form. He wore every emotion like an old cardigan that swallowed him whole. He brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek as he bottomed out, your hands roaming his chest and tangling into his precious curls.

“Let me love you.” Your heart just about broke. He was nearly pleading with you.

“Forever,” you replied, pulling him to your lips. Your bodies rocked as one, breathy moans and sighs bouncing off of the ceiling back to your ears to make you shiver. You felt foolish for ever doubting him. His mouth abused your neck, setting your bones ablaze with pleasure.

He quickly found himself becoming too excited, so he slowed and carefully pulled out. You watched him curiously, realization settling over you as he lowered his mouth to trail kisses down the valley between your breasts to your stomach and down between your legs. He eyed you as he circled your sensitive bud with his tongue, watching you moan out his name and lose your hands in your hair. You rocked your hips against his tongue. Always eager to give, Timothee reveled in every second of your pleasure until you were falling apart against his mouth and fingers.

Panting heavily, you pulled him back up to you and kissed him feverishly. His back was against the headboard as you sat in his lap, grinding your hips against his. Few words were spoken, but confessions slipped from you both as you held one another close. You reached between your bodies and slid him back into you. You both sighed in ecstasy. “You feel like… you were made just for me,” you breathed, beginning to lift yourself up and drop back down into his lap.

He cursed, watching your every movement with intensity. “I was.” You both got lost in each other, kissing and touching every inch within your reach.

“I’m close, amour,” he soon whined, head lolled back as he gazed up at you and his hands gripped your hips. You were both covered in a sheen of sweat, leaving his face glittering and breathtaking as always.

“Me too. So close,” you whimpered. You increased your pace, his hips rising to meet you now and hitting you just right. You tensed suddenly, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Timothee moaned against your collarbone, whispering sweet nothings and holding you close. He came soon after, spilling his love inside of you with stuttering thrusts. His hands slid across your spine as he trembled in the afterglow.

“I love you, my girl. Only you, forever,” he panted softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. A shy smile tugged on his lips, making you melt.

“Je t’aime, Timo.” You kissed his forehead, content to stay right there in his embrace forever.

[eyayah-oya]

A Bit of Hope to Keep You Safe

Clone Ship Week | Day 7 | Armor - @cloneshipweek

Bacara/Rex

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Ao3 link

           Rex walked through camp with two cups of caf in his hand, looking for Commander Bacara.  They had time to relax before the next big push of the campaign, and Rex wanted to spend at least a few minutes with Bacara before they had to be a Captain and a Commander again.  It was so rare that they even got to see each other, let alone outside of a professional setting, that Rex was willing to take whatever they could scrounge together.

           Eventually, he found his way to the edge of the camp, overlooking a vast violet sea.  The boulders of ancient ruins littered the ground, and Rex found Bacara leaning back against the boulder on the seaward side.  Rex kicked a pebble to let the Commander know that he was there, and Bacara looked up.

           For the first time in a long time, Rex got a good look at his boyfriend.  Bacara looked exhausted.  The eyes that held so much warmth during ARC training now were shattered with grief and the burden of forever remaining strong for his men.  Bacara was the bulwark holding back the tide of the entire Separatist army from his men and the rest of the Republic.  When Bacara realized it was just Rex, the line of his shoulders slumped just slightly, and the man behind The Marine peaked through the cracks in his armor.

           “Rex,” Bacara breathed.

           With a small smile, Rex sat down next to Bacara and handed him one of the cups of caf.  “How are you?"

           "I’m holding up, tat’ka,” Bacara said.  He took a long sip of the caf and wrinkled his nose adorably much to Rex’s delight.  “Did you put any sugar in this?”

           “I gave you the allotment of sugar, same as every other damn cup of caf in the Republic,” Rex said, holding back a snicker.

           Bacara hummed and drained the caf as fast as he could before setting his cup down on the ground next to him.  With a languid stretch, Bacara leaned his head back against the boulder and closed his eyes, drinking in the rays of the sun.  His skin was paler than other brothers, a testament to how rarely he took his bucket off.  Rex scooted a bit closer to Bacara and pressed against his shoulder. A shudder ran through his body before Bacara leaned into the touch.

           Rex wanted to weep at how touch-starved and lonely he was. How many nights did Bacara spend alone while his men sought comfort amongst themselves?  How many times did he stand guard while the Marines shook apart and put themselves back together just to fight and die in another battle on a planet the Republic had all but forgotten?  There was not a single clone ever created that did well with being isolated. From the time they were decanted, they spent every second of their day with brothers.  But the Marines were isolated and Bacara even more so.

           There were few things in life that Rex wanted more in that moment, than to take Bacara and his men far away from the war and keep them safe and loved.  He wanted to hold Bacara every night, and tell him how loved he was until he stopped flinching at every touch.  Rex wanted to have the freedom to be there for Bacara since he refused to allow anyone else close enough to take care of The Marine.

           In the middle of a galactic-wide war, however, there wasn’t much Rex could do for any of those desires.  He could care for Bacara for however long this campaign lasted, and then they’d be separated once again with little to no contact.

           As Rex ran his fingers over the gouges in his thigh plate from an exploding tank, an idea struck him.

           “Bacara—” Rex began, then stopped.  How did someone even ask something like this?  Maybe he should have paid more attention to Kix and Jesse’s courtship.

           “Hmm?”

           For several seconds, Rex tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.  There were just so many different ways it could be taken, and Rex wasn’t even sure if the Marines were isolated enough from their brothers that this custom hadn’t reached them yet.  Giving a piece of himself to a brother, especially one from a different battalion, had certain meanings.  Rex fell in love quickly and loved deeply.  Bacara loved just as deeply, but he was also slower to trust and slower to love. It felt awful to even think it, but Rex really wasn’t sure how his suggestion would be taken.

           “Rex, whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine,” Bacara sighed.  “Talk to me, tat’ka.”

           With a deep breath, Rex undid the clasps of his left vambrace, the only piece of his armor that he thought might be able to fit Bacara. Without a word, he turned and offered the piece of armor to his boyfriend and held his breath.

           Bacara didn’t say anything.  He stared at the vambrace, face carefully blank, and Rex was terrified that he’d pushed too hard too soon.  The shattered look in his warm brown eyes seemed to clear, some of the cracks healing, just a little bit.  They were silent, only the distant waves crashing against the base of the cliff and the calls of local seabirds could be heard.  Not even the camp was close enough to hear the everyday chatter of soldiers reconnecting.  After a minute, just long enough for Rex to get anxious, Bacara reached out and took his vambrace, his fingers trembling slightly.

           Rex let out his breath in relief.  Bacara understood what Rex hadn’t managed to find the words to express what was in his heart.  This was important, for both of them.  Vod’e traded pieces of armor with only their closest brothers.  It was a promise to return.  A promise that they had someone watching their back.  A promise to always be there for them. Some, like Echo and Fives, it was a gift between siblings.  Fives still cherished the piece of armor Echo had given him before the disastrous mission to the Citadel.  Others, like Jesse and Kix, treated it as a courting gift.  In either situation, the two who shared armor formed a connection that was unbreakable.

           “Rex—” Bacara whispered, his voice rough and broken. “Rex, are you sure—”

           But he refused to let Bacara finish that sentence.  Rex surged forward and pulled his wonderful, kind, gentle boyfriend into a deep and passionate kiss, though he kept every movement gentle and loving.  Everything he felt for Bacara was poured from his heart and into the kiss.  Every time Rex only managed to keep going because he knew he needed to come back to Bacara.  Every time he thought about his boyfriend fighting alone on far-off planets, surrounded by enemies.  He gave Bacara everything, his whole soul.  And Bacara welcomed every touch, every lick, every bite with the desperation of a man dying of loneliness.  A man dying for the love of his cyare.

           Bacara eventually took control of the kiss, pulling Rex into his lap and cradling his face in his large, warm palms.  The callouses scratched over his skin, sending tingles down his spine and curling his toes in his boots.  Rex sighed into the kiss.  He wrapped his arms around Bacara’s shoulders and let him find what he needed with every shared breath and every suck and nip.  Rex could only hold tight and refuse to let go.

           Since the first time they kissed, Rex had always fallen apart when Bacara kissed him.  There was a depth and a passion, building up heat until Rex was panting and hazy-eyed in his arms.  With every kiss, Bacara told Rex how much he loved him.  How much he meant to Bacara.  How desperately he needed Rex.  And this time was no different.

           Rex had no idea how long they’d spent trading kisses with him straddling his boyfriend’s lap, caf cups and vambrace left forgotten in the dirt next to them.  When they finally broke apart to simply rest their foreheads against each other, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, turning the pink sky a gorgeous red and purple.

           “Rex?” Bacara murmured.

           “Hmm?”  He couldn’t gather up the scattered cells of his brain to come up with a more intelligent response than that.

           “You really want to exchange armor?”

           Rex idly slipped his fingers into Bacara’s curls, playing with the longer hair on top and scratching through his beard.  “Of course, Cara.  I love you.  I can’t do much to be there for you while we’re still fighting this war, but I can promise to always come back.  It’s not much—”

           “No, it’s perfect,” Bacara interrupted.  “I would love to exchange armor with you.”

           “Good.  I’m really glad.”  Rex nudged Bacara’s nose while his hand scrabbled to find his forgotten vambrace.

           Bacara huffed, amused, and grabbed the vambrace from where it had fallen on the opposite side of where Rex was searching.  “Is this what you were looking for, tat’ka?”

           Rex gave his best Tubie scowl he could, the one that never failed to make Ponds melt into a puddle, and nuzzled Bacara’s face.  “Not my fault you hid it,” he grumbled.

           “Of course.  It’s perfectly reasonable to start losing your mind when dealing with the Jedi.  No one would blame you for forgetting the little things.”

           “I can and will bite you,” Rex threatened.

           Of course, that had a slightly different effect on Bacara than Rex had been expecting.  His dark eyes turned black with desire, and he leaned forward to leave a sharp bite on Rex’s swollen bottom lip.  Rex gasped and his heart skipped several beats.

           “Cara,” he gasped.  “That’s not playing fair.”

           “Who said anything about fair?”  Bacara ran his hand along Rex’s arm, until he reached the empty space that his vambrace normally occupied.  “Can’t have you going into battle without a full set of armor.  That would be unprofessional.”

           “Yeah?  Are you going to do anything about it?”

           Bacara hummed in response.  With deft fingers, he quickly undid the clasps of his own left vambrace and pushed Rex back far enough that he could easily access both of their arms.  They were all clones, so the vambraces looked to be the same size.  It wasn’t cost-efficient, after all, to provide custom sizes of armor for the entire GAR.  But the padding inside might be different for Bacara and Rex, since the Commander was built a bit bigger than Rex.

           “Rex of Torrent,” Bacara started, his voice rumbling thick and low.  “I give you my armor with the promise that I will always watch your back.  I will always support you in everything you do. I will always love you.  And I swear I will return to you as best as I can. Do you accept?”

           Blinking away sudden tears, Rex leaned forward and captured Bacara’s lips in a soft kiss.  “I accept your armor and your promise.  Bacara of Nova, I give you my armor with the promise that I will stand by your side.  I will treat your men as my own, and I will support Nova in every way I can.  I will be your rock and your anchor.  I will love you as long as I have breath and I will always do my best to return to you.  Do you accept my armor and my promise?”

           “Yes,” Bacara breathed.  He shuddered and gripped Rex’s bare arm as tight as he dared. Rex wrapped his other arm around him and brought their foreheads together again, their lips brushing with every breath.  He held Bacara until he was steady once again.

           “Can I put my vambrace on you?” Rex asked once the shudders had faded to only the occasional tremor.

           Bacara nodded and with sure fingers, Rex slid the vambrace into place and clicked the clasps closed.  They both sighed when the armor settled into place and then Bacara was reaching for his vambrace.  He returned the favor and soon, they were both fully armored again, minus their buckets.

           “Thank you for letting me do this,” Rex murmured softly.

           “No need for that.  I’m glad you thought of it.  I wasn’t sure—”  Bacara trailed off.  There were a number of things that he could say, but neither one chose to acknowledge any of them out loud.  He wasn’t sure if Rex would want to wear his armor.  He wasn’t sure when they’d be able to see each other for the exchange to even be possible.  He wasn’t sure if either of them would live long enough to talk about exchanging armor.

           None of those concerns ended up being founded, and Bacara relaxed as much as he could against Rex.  Rex easily accepted his weight and held onto him as tight as he could.  It wasn’t the same as being on board a ship, where they felt a bit more comfortable removing their armor, but it was good enough for now.  Now was all they had, with the war pulling them across the galaxy from each other, and Rex intended to make the most of it.

           (Later, his men would send Rex knowing smirks and pointed observations, carefully out of hearing range of Commander Bacara.  While they teased and prodded at him, Rex knew that every single one of them were happy for him.  They all needed a little bit of love and comfort with the war weighing down on them.  Especially Captain Rex and The Marine.)

This is inspired by Soft Wars by @thefoundationproject . You should all go read it because it’s amazing!

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

CH25- A Series Of Very Fortunate Events

Summary: It’s Fliss’ birthday and Frank pulls off the surprise of the century.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 24

I dunno how you do what you do, I'm so in love with you, it just keeps getting better. I wanna spend the rest of my life, with you by my side, for ever and ever. Every little thing that you do, Baby I'm amazed by you

Fliss gave a start of surprise as two hands grabbed her waist and spun her round.  She laughed as a pair of bright blue eyes, sparkling with love and mischief, met hers, her hands sliding up their owner’s chest to his shoulders, as a warm palm pressed into her back, fingers splaying over the top of her thin camisole. “Happy birthday, Beautiful.” Frank grinned at her and she beamed back, her nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck, tangling in his short hair as he gently swayed them to the soft music which was playing through the speakers in the kitchen.

“Thank you, Sailor.” She smiled as his lips gently pressed to hers, a chuckle flowing from his mouth as he swayed his hips to the gentle rhythm of Otis Redding’s ‘(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay’. “You know, I had set my alarm a little bit earlier today ” He informed her, spinning them a little across the floor, “planned a little wakeup call plus breakfast in bed. So imagine my slight frustration when it went off and you were already gone.” “Sorry, but I woke up and,” she shrugged giving him an apologetic look, “you know once I’m awake I’m awake.” “I do.” Frank smirked, his hands on her hips gripped a bit tighter as he swayed his own along to the music. “Guess you’ll just have to wait for that particular present, Cowgirl.” She let out a laugh, the hand on his neck tightening a little in his hair as she pulled his head down to hers. “I love you.” “Love you too.” He whispered, his lips catching hers in a deep kiss, tongues sliding gently against one another before Frank pulled back, his forehead pressed to hers. “Can I at least make you breakfast?” “Sure but don’t you need to be getting ready for work?” “Nope.” He shook his head. “Booked the day off.” “Why?” “Well it’s a Friday and your birthday and I wanted to spend it with you.” He shrugged. “I know you’re working but thought I could finish the shelving and what not in the tack room and then we can get everything ready for the guys coming over.” Fliss beamed. “I’m so excited to show them the yard. I know it’s not fully finished but...” she sighed. “I’m really happy with how it’s turned out.” “And you should be.” Frank smiled, his hips swaying to the music. “You’ve put a lot of hard work in. I’m proud of you, Honey.” “We’ve put a lot of hard work in.” She smiled as he revolves them gently on the spot. “Couldn’t have done it without you and everyone else for that matter, Mum, Dad, Joanne, Steve...” “Well,” Frank grinned as he spun her out slightly, pulling her back into him, her back pressed to his chest, her giggle vibrating slightly into his body, “tonight we can fire up the grill as planned, thank everyone properly and have a few drinks to celebrate.” “Sounds good.” She sighed as his lips brushed her neck. “My last lesson finishes at two, I cut them early for the day.” “Perfect.” Frank gently nipped at her skin, his hands splaying over her belly, pulling her back into him. “And just think, this is your last birthday as a Gallagher. You’ll be Mrs. Adler next year.” “Two months.” She rolled her head to the side, allowing Frank to nuzzle into her even more. “I can’t wait.” “Me neither, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth now on her jawline. Eventually his lips found hers and he kissed her again, her head laying back against his shoulder as his right hand started trailing down further, and further, and his fingers had just worked their way into the waistband of her sleep shorts when a soft little whimper, followed by a louder garbled chatter chimed out from the baby monitor. Frank gave a groan, his head sagging forward and his hand moving back up to Fliss hip as she laughed a little, tilting her head to look at the screen where Alex was now pulling himself to a stand using the bars on his crib as leverage. “Cock block.” Frank grumbled as he shot the monitor a look and Fliss stepped out of his embrace, turning to face him. “I’ll go get him, you can start my birthday breakfast.” She smiled, standing on her tip toes to give him a gentle peck. As she padded out of the room, Frank watched her go, eyes firmly trained on her pert ass before he smirked to himself and turned to gather the ingredients for the waffles Fliss had shown him how to make. As he spooned out the flour into the bowl he heard Fliss greeting Alex good morning and their ten month old giving a garbled little response followed by a happy giggle, the one he always gave when he saw Fliss. “Momma’s boy.” Frank scoffed, picking up the baby monitor and pressing the intercom button alongside it. He heard Fliss laugh as she turned to the monitor, sticking her tongue out at the screen, knowing full well he could see and he chuckled, turning back to his task in hand. By the time she appeared after changing Alex’s diaper, Mary had surfaced, Fred hot on her heels, and the kitchen was full of the smell of waffles which sizzled away on the iron. Mary shot over to Fliss, wishing her a happy birthday before she placed Alex in his chair and Frank stepped over to give his son a kiss good morning. He smiled as Alex wound his small hands into his beard, giving a tug before he gently scruffed against the baby’s cheek causing him to shriek in delight. “Think I might try his cup again today.” Fliss pondered for a moment. “He didn’t want his milk after breakfast yesterday as he was full so Mum suggested offering it him alongside, he might be a bit more inclined to take it if he’s doing it himself, what do you think?” “Go for it.” Frank nodded, straightening up. “Don’t worry about it too much though, sweetheart. Mary dropped her morning bottle completely round the time she was his age. He’ll let us know if he’s hungry.” Satisfied with her choice, Fliss sliced up an apple and placed it down on Alex’s tray along with half a lightly toasted piece of bread and a sipping cup half full of formula. Alex immediately went for the apple, jamming it into his mouth making appreciative noises as Frank served their own breakfast of waffles, fruit and syrup up, handing a small piece of waffle to Alex. The baby paused, taking it with a cooing noise and proceeded to look from one hand to the other. “What’s it gonna be, pal?” Frank asked. “It’s a big decision. Apple or waffle?” “Bet you five bucks he goes for the waffle.” Mary grinned and Frank wrinkled his nose. “I dunno, he likes his apples.” “Yeah but waffles are much better.” Mary’s voice was muffled as she shoved a huge fork full into her own mouth and Fliss watched as Alex continued to ponder. In the end he raised both his hands to his mouth, attempting to shove the two items in at the same time. Fliss laughed and gently went to help him out, but no sooner had she done that, Alex had already realised it wasn’t going to work. His fingers still curled round precious apple slice, he dropped the hand holding it to his tray, using the other to shove the waffle piece straight into his mouth, chewing contentedly. “Told ya.” Mary smirked. The kitchen was full of laughter as they ate, and when they had finished and cleared the dishes, Frank and Mary disappeared upstairs coming back with a few gifts held in their arms. Fliss grinned as she took the one Mary handed her first. “That’s from me and Alex.” She nodded as Fliss kissed her cheek and tore off the sparkly blue wrapping paper, her smile growing even bigger as she saw the box which contained a radio mic along with ear pieces. “You said your old one was crap.” Mary grinned, ignoring the pointed look Frank shot at her for her use of the word. Fliss laughed. “Yeah it’s seen better days, everyone says I sound like a Dalek.” “A what?” Mary frowned. “Oh they’re an alien thing from a TV show called ‘Doctor Who’, they talk like broken robots.” Fliss waved her hand. “But this is great. Thank you!” “It’s fully charged and tested.” Mary grinned. “Dad had it on the other night in the garage fixing me a blow by blow description of how he was varnishing the boat. I stopped listening. “No wonder it’s taking you so long to finish.” Fliss smirked at him and Frank arched his brows. “The reason it’s taking me so long is because every spare moment I’ve had recently you’ve put me to work at the yard either building shelving units or painting.” He folded his arms. “You know, I could charge you a fortune.” “I pay you in other ways.” She winked and a Frank snorted as she reached for a smaller wrapped gift. She tore off the wrapper and Frank held his breath a little as she looked at the white leather box emblazoned with the logo of a company he knew she’d recognise. “Did you...” her eyes instantly misted over and Frank nodded as she opened the box with shaking hands. He watched as she studied the item inside before she picked it out to examine it in closer detail. It was a bracelet made out of the hair from Heidi’s tail, wound into a thick, chunky braid, the different shades of chestnut and dark brown perfectly woven together. The claw clasp was silver and there was a small silver horse shoe and heart shaped charms hanging from it, the latter engraved with the words ‘forever in my heart’. “Frank,” she stuttered and he gave her a smile. “You were talking about getting one, did I get the right style?” “Yeah.” She swallowed. “Oh, Sailor it’s perfect.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, giving a little sniff as she pulled back. “Can you...?” She handed it to him and then held out her left hand arm and Frank opened the clasp, fastening it around her wrist. She looked at it for a moment before she smiled and wiped her eyes. With a little cough, Fliss cleared her throat as she reached for the final box which was a little bigger and when she opened that one she gave an excited shriek. “You got me a Pivo? How? These are like out of stock constantly!” Her hands trailed the box and she grinned, looking at Frank. “Lucky try.” He shrugged as Fliss opened the box to look at the starter pack. Not for the first time she was overcome with just how much Frank actually listened to the throwaway comments she made. She’d talked about getting one of the smart tracking systems you linked up to your phone for a while, it would make filming her videos for sales and the online blogging and tutorials that she had recently launched on the website so much easier. “Thank you, you’ve spoilt me.” Fliss beamed at Mary and Frank, before she turned to Alex to give him a kiss, and Frank glanced at Mary giving her a wink, both of them fully aware that the gift that was arriving later that afternoon was going to blow her mind.

***** Frank spent most of the morning putting up the shelves as promised, hanging the doors and whatever else he needed to do, whilst Alex was happily entertaining himself in his little pack and play, the air-con in the new large room a godsend as it gave some well needed relief from the sweltering late July heat. Bill and Verity arrived at midday with lunch from their favourite sandwich deli. Fliss beamed when she opened her gift from her parents which was a tripod for her new Pivo plus a year’s subscription to a new editing software app for her MacBook and iPhone. Once they had eaten, Verity offered to take Alex back to the house for his nap, leaving Bill and Frank free to head down to check that the new perimeter fencing had been done properly whilst Fliss carried on with her day's schedule, this time her, Joanne and Mary setting up the Pivo to film a little VLog for their YouTube channel that was linked to the stables. Then at just before two, Frank got the call he’d been waiting for, his big surprise was half an hour away. “I’m a little nervous.” Frank admitted as he and Bill walked back to the yard. “I mean, if she doesn’t like the damned thing when it arrives, I can’t exactly return it.” “Trust me, she’ll love her.” Bill shook his head. “If nothing but because it’s connected to Heidi and it’s something for her to start work with from the ground up. It’s what she’s always loved to do, and she does it well. As this all proves.” Bill waved his hand in the air, gesturing around the land and the various horses as Frank nodded. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He was on edge for the next fifteen or so minutes as he tried to concentrate on a little more painting, but then they heard the rumble of tyres as the truck pulling the transporter trailer wound slowly up the drive. Bill looked at Frank with a grin before he pulled out his phone, no doubt to message Verity, and Frank glanced over to see Fliss had straightened up from where she had been leaning over the laptop at her desk and frowned, her head tipping to one side as she glanced out of the window which overlooked the entrance. “Joanne?” She called and the girl appeared. “Did we book a new client in today that I forgot?” “Nope.” Joanne shook her head. “Who the hell is this then?” Fliss’ frown deepened as she turned and headed out of the room, Frank following with a very excited Mary. As they walked into the courtyard, Frank watched Fliss speaking to the driver as he opened the door and hopped out. He saw the shock register on her face and a small smile played on his own as she stood stock still, blinking at the man who handed her an envelope. With a frown she took it, turning to Frank who merely gave her a puzzled shrug, before she tore open the envelope and her eyes scanned the message inside which Frank had asked them to prepare. There was a delicious moment where Frank saw Fliss’ face washed blank with confusion, like her brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from her wide eyes. Every muscle of her body just froze before a grin crept onto her face, it soon stretched from one side to the other showing every single tooth. This time when she looked at Frank, he smiled back, and she shook her head her own smile not faltering. “You did this?” She managed to stutter out as Bill chuckled, walking to the back of the large transporter to help the man with the ramp. “Well, I had help but yeah, I’ll take the credit for it being my idea.” He wrinkled his nose as Fliss gave a shriek and launched herself at him. Laughing he caught her as her legs wrapped around his waist and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispered. “But how did you even know I’d been looking at her? I never-“ “Mary.” Frank said simply as her hands slid to cup his face. “You should know by now she never misses a thing.” “Hey, Titch, you gonna let go of Frankie boy for long enough to come meet her or what?” Bill called, and Mary nodded. “Yeah, hurry up Mom, I wanna see her!” Giving him another quick kiss, Fliss moved and Frank dropped her to the floor. She turned, sweeping Mary into a huge hug before she took her hand as they walked to the back of the trailer as the beautiful bay horse was led off. Amazement didn’t quite cover what Fliss was feeling at that point in time as she stood rooted to the spot, observing the animal who stood up tall and glanced round, snorting loudly at the strange surroundings. It was a cacophony of emotions all firing at once and the smile Fliss was displaying on the outside sure as hell couldn't have adequately reflected what she felt inside; like every neurone of her brain was trying to fire in both directions at once - the best kind of paralysis. Simply put, the animal was beautiful. Sleek dark bay with unblemished limbs, two white socks on the hind legs and a blaze very similar to Heidi’s down her dark face. Her mane and tail were shiny black, and whilst the animal had little muscle definition, Fliss new that was down to the fact she hadn’t ever been ridden before having been used as an attempted brood animal. It was clear she had been looked after and cared for as the mare had a sweet eye, it wasn’t looking at anyone suspiciously or worriedly, simply curiously as she spun quickly on the spot, giving a shout which was answered by Cap in the barn, Fliss knew his whinny off by heart. As Cleo turned her pretty head, she glanced straight at Fliss who took a deep breath as shiny, bright brown eyes gazed back at her. At that the horse gave a soft little nicker and there was an explosion in Fliss’ brain... the good sort... the buzz of electricity she had felt when she’d been to view Heidi for the first time. As dramatic as it may have been to admit this out loud, to her it was the calling card of adventure, of paths awaiting both their feet that they could enjoy together. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there would undoubtedly be tears and frustration, many hours of patience and hard work as there was to be expected with any horse you were backing and teaching from the start, but it was Fliss’ adventure to take. With a gentle breath she stepped forward slowly, towards her new animal and held her hand out, palm up, offering the horse a sniff. “Hey, Cleo.” Fliss spoke gently as her other hand ever so quietly moved to scratch the horse on the wither. “Hi, how you doing, girl?” Frank watched and let the happiness Fliss was exuding soak right into his bones. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to smile at Verity who juggled Alex in her arms as she stood by his side. “You do realise that if you weren’t already, you’ve effectively just become a horse widow before you even get married, right? Backing a horse is gonna take a lot of her time and become an obsession.” She grinned as Frank offered to take his son from her and she obliged. Frank gently turned him and held him to his chest, facing outwards so he could see what was going on.

“I don’t much care.” Frank chuckled as he watched Mary extend her hand out to pat Cleo as the animal rubbed her head against Fliss who reached up to wipe the tears of joy from her eyes. “Look how happy she is.” He took a deep breath, her happiness was infectious and Frank was simply savouring the feeling of sheer pleasure in his system at seeing his girl so full of joy because of something he’d managed to pull off. Simply put, he wanted to still be able to make her feel like that when they were old. Half an hour later the horse in question had been given a quick feed and a drink of water and left to settle in a spare stable. Fliss had then been given a blow by blow account of what Frank, Mary and Bill had dubbed ‘Operation Cleopatra-Comin’ At Ya’ and she thanked them all, once more getting emotional over how much thought and effort had gone into everything so far. Eventually, once Cleo had been turned out into a field with Monty for the evening, they all made their way back to the house, showered and changed ready for the BBQ they were hosting later, Bill and V taking up residence in the guest suite for the night. Frank was already in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a blue and white checked button down, sleeves rolled up, when Fliss walked in wearing a pale blue sun dress which accentuated her waist and boobs, much to his delight, her Cowboy boots completing the look.

Their friends arrived and there were more gifts exchanged before drinks started to flow and they then made their way to the yard so Fliss could show their friends around. She laughed as she saw that Bill had jokingly put a ribbon over the gate for Fliss to cut, which she did to a few cheers and some sarcastic comments from her brother, one of which earned him a slap round the back of the head from Verity. Frank watched as she showed everyone around, Jake taking particular interest in the state of the art security system that was installed as he said it was similar to the one he was looking at for Lisa’s cake shop. The pride was simply flowing out of Fliss as she talked and explained everything, and Frank loved to see it. A few hours later, it was dark and their back yard was lit up by the various strings of lights and lamps dotted all around, which Frank fake-grumpily liked to point out made their garden look like a Fairy’s grotto. The air was full of chatter, light music and laughter as everyone milled around in the way they always do at parties. After more drinks and the food had been eaten, Fliss said she was going to head up to check on Cleo and Frank hastily offered to go with her, not least because he didn’t want her going alone, but because he wanted to snatch a moment alone for the pair of them. It was a beautiful, clear night. Peaceful and quiet bar the sounds of crickets. The horses, who were in the fields happily settled, all raised their heads as they passed, Cap trotting over to the fence line to greet them. Frank gave him a quick stroke on the nose before they moved down to the next paddock and Fliss ducked under the electric fencing and strode over to check Cleo. Satisfied that nothing was amiss she came back, a smile on her face and they set off back down the path, her hand linked in his. “Thank you.” She broke the comfortable silence a moment or so later.

“What for?” Frank glanced down at her and she let out a contented sigh.

“Everything today. And everything everyday.” She said, her voice laced with happiness. “All my gifts, it just shows how much you actually listen to me...”

“What you mean is I don’t ignore you deliberately as you accuse me of doing?” Frank shot back and Fliss snorted.

“If anything this proves it is deliberate when you do something I don’t like.” She looked at him and he chuckled before shook her head. “I still can’t believe you managed to get a horse here from England.”

“Yeah and basically empties half our savings.” He snorted and she shrugged.

“She’s worth it. I’m impressed, Francis.”

"Well like I said, I had a little help, it was a family affair.”

“I know and I love that Mum and Dad and Steve all chipped in but still, it was your idea.” She smiled. “It’s so thoughtful.”

“Well, you spend enough time thinking about everyone else, making sure we’re all happy,” Frank shrugged, the pleasure lancing through his system at her happiness made him in turn feel contend. “I thought it was time you got something back.”

“You make me happy every day.” Fliss shrugged. “And I’m not saying that just to be sentimental either. It’s a fact. And you know what else is a fact?”

“What?”

“That you’ve now imported as many horses into this county as I have.”

“Guess that makes me the Cowboy to your Cowgirl.” He nodded seriously as they stopped at the end of the path by the large open fronted barn just off the main yard area.

“Yeah? Is there a snake in your boots?”

“There’s one in my pants.” Frank grinned, and she laughed. 

“Is it dangerous?”

“No, but it spits.”

“Frank!” She scoffed, elbowing him in the side as he laughed, looping his arm round her shoulder,  pressing a kiss to her head as he pulled her back into him, his chest flush to her back. “Wanna fuck in the haybarn?” His voice was deep and soft in her ear as his lips dropped to the side of her neck, large hands curling softly over the curve of her hip, the cotton of her dress bunched in his fingers. Her entire body erupted into goose bumps and her belly was in knots, but still it was there, that overwhelming sense of comfort and familiarity that enabled her to laugh softly as she tilted her head to the side to look at him. “Only taken you what? Like three years to suggest that?” "So I'm a little slow.” Frank chuckled as she turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest. “Well,” she smirked up at him, eyes flashing in the moonlight, “better turn up the speed because they’ll be wondering where we are.” “Fuck ‘em.” Frank shrugged, but still he wasted no time as he hurriedly backed Fliss into the haybarn, the two falling into a pile of it with a giggle. His large hands hiked up the sides of her dress, exposing her panty covered mound as his lips latched to hers in a deep and tantalizing dance. Thick fingers, soft and rough in their own way, played at the hemline of her panties just at the apex of her thighs, a thumb pressing into her clit just over the fabric. As his mouth moved from hers to her jawline, the scruff of his beard giving her that delectable burn she loved so much, a needy rumble vibrated from her throat and chest, Fliss enjoying every bit of pressure Frank offered. Then, a cool breeze touched her wet opening as she realized Frank had moved her panties to the side, an elicit sound escaping her lips as he slipped two fingers inside her. "You know today, I remember thinking that your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world.” Frank’s breath was hot on her ear as his teeth nipped at her neck. “I was wrong, it's your moans." Fliss choked a little on another groan as his fingers curled against her spot, over and over, in a beckoning motion, as if he was motioning her towards him. The heel of his palm pressed up against her clit and she pushed her hips down, rotating them a little as she sought out the friction of his strong but gentle touch. “That what you want?” Frank’s voice was husky, his mouth hovering over hers as she gave a wanton mewl, his hand keeping the same steady pace, forcing her to up his. “You wanna cum on my fingers, huh?” “Yeah, God, Frank...” a hoarse murmur  slipped from her lips as her eyes flickered shut, head tipping back in pleasure. “Jesus, that feels good!” “I got something that’ll feel even better.” He quipped in a low, rough tone that was almost a growl and a grin spread across Fliss’ lips as he slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing the noise of protest she made as he removed fingers from inside her, kneeling up, both his hands flying to his belt buckle. Fliss sat up, wriggling her panties down her legs and over her boots. With a cheeky flick of her eyebrow she tossed them straight at him. Possessing reflexes Fred would be proud of, Frank caught them in his left hand and held them to his face, his eyes locked on hers as he pressed his nose into them, inhaling deeply. “You’re a dirty, little shit, Adler.” She let out a naughty sounding chuckle as Frank stuffed her panties into his back pocket. “Yeah, and you’re filthy, goddamned minx, Gallagher.”  He quipped back, and a matter of seconds later he had his jeans and boxers down over his slim hips. Falling back over her, his mouth pressed back to hers again and he gave a hiss through his teeth as she reached down and grabbed him in her hand. Her fingers curled around his shaft and she gave him a few, quick strokes, before she guided him to where she wanted him. Slowly he pushed into her, the pair of them letting out a shuddered breath before his hips began to move quickly back and forth with fast, shallow thrusts and Frank reached down, large fingers curling over her thigh, hooking her leg up round his waist. His hand moved upwards, bunching the hem of her dress up, stopping as he grabbed at her hip, his other palm flat on the rough, coarse hay bale that they were propped up against. His lips crashed to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth as her hands tangled in his hair and she let out a little whimper, tipping her hips up to meet his as his thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, his pace still equally as fast as he drove her nearer and nearer to her high, a broken groan rumbling from his chest as he felt her walls tightening down around him. Fliss’ chest hitched, and her eyes closed momentarily, her mouth falling open as she croaked his name repeatedly, almost in time with his thrusts, a mantra as he watched her face which was contorted in pleasure. “Feels so good, don’t stop.” She mumbled, her hands tangling in his hair as her eyes opened. His forehead pressed to hers, a sheen of sweat covering both their red faces as his hips snapped back and forth, simple, fast ruts. Fliss could feel him, deep inside her, and soon that familiar heat and tingling began to burn between her legs and in the bottom of her belly. Her breathing quickened and then the waves of pleasure washed over her, her back arching as she gave a loud cry her nails digging into his scalp. Frank continued thrusting through her orgasm, and it didn’t take him long to catch up with her. “Fuck, Lissy...” his words cut off and a broken whimper slipped from his mouth as he came with a final deep thrust, his fingers tightening around her waist before he collapsed forward, burying his head against her neck. Fliss could feel herself pulsing around him, the aftershocks of her orgasm still coursing through her body, her walls contracting every so often as they lay still, his dick still twitching inside of her. Leaving a soft kiss to the spot under her neck, Frank pushed himself up and brushed his nose against hers, giving her a soft kiss as she gave a hum of satisfaction, the fingers of one hand gently stroking the nape of his neck, the other brushing up and down his bicep. “We should get back.” She whispered. “We’ve been gone half an hour.” Frank gave a groan but nodded and moved gently away, pulling out of her. He stood up, held his hand out and helped her to her feet, tugging her into him, large hands cupping her face. He kissed her again, deeply and she smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Love you.” His lips pecked hers again, and she chuckled, giving him another kiss. “Love you too.” She beamed, stepping back to sort her hair out. Frank pulled his boxers and jeans up, brushing the remnants of forage and dust off his thighs and shirt before Fliss turned round and he did the same to her, plucking away a few strands of straw and hay that had become tangled in her auburn locks. “Am I presentable?” She asked and Frank nodded. “The evidence of our crime is eradicated.” He nodded, giving her a little smirk before he jerked his head towards the outside. “Erm, you’re forgetting something.” Fliss stopped him. “What?” “My knickers.” She held her hand out, palm opened and Frank gave a teasing frown. “Oh, do I have those?” He asked and she rolled her eyes, his hand falling to her hip. “Yes, so gimme.” Her fingers curled into her palm and back out in a demanding gesture and Frank shrugged. “You threw 'em away, so I think I’ll keep 'em.” “Frank, I can’t go back with nothing on underneath this!” She gestured to the floaty skirt of her knee length sundress and Frank shook his head. “Just don’t bend over and we’re good.” He looked at her with that maddening, cheeky smile, holding out his hand. “Such an asshole.” She scoffed, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her out of the barn. 

 As they walked, she squirmed a little, feeling his release beginning to trickle down her leg and Frank looked at her, a knowing smug expression on his face and she glared at him. “I’m going straight upstairs to clean up.” She grumbled and he laughed, letting go of her hand so he could loop and arm round her shoulders. “That would be rude considering we have guests.” He teased, pulling her close he pressed a kiss to her head as her own arm slipped round his waist, a smile on her face, the sounds of laughter and chatter from their guests drifting to their ears as they neared the farm house. They walked into the back yard through the gates and Fliss smiled at Mary who came running over. “Was she okay?” “Yup, settled in the field with Monty and eating away. He’s a good babysitter.” “That’s so cool!” “Where’s Alex?” Frank asked and Mary looked at him. “Poppa Bill has him.” She said, and Frank glanced around to see the man in question did indeed have their son in his arms, the baby grabbing at his short, grey hair letting out squeals as Bill pretended to bite his little neck. “Hey Mom, are we still going in the pool? Joel and Charlie are exited for night swimming!” “Yeah, in fact I’ll go in and get changed right away.” Fliss smiled, shooting a smug glance at Frank as she has been unwittingly handed a perfect excuse to go and clean up. “Cool!” Mary shot off, passing Bill as he walked over towards them. “Hey Dad!” Fliss smiled, “I’ll be right back, the kids want to go swimming so...” “Yeah okay.” He smiled, handing Alex over to his dad who pressed a kiss to his chubby cheeks. “Oh, Titch?” “Hmm?” She spun round to face him and Bill looked at her then to Frank and back again, his eyebrow raised. “Might wanna pull that hay out of your hair too before you come back down.” Fliss felt her cheeks heat up and her hands hastily moved to the back of her head, pulling a few long strands from her ponytail. She threw an accusatory glance at Frank who simply shrugged. “Guess I missed a bit.” He replied innocently, although he was anything but. He knew full well they were there, but there was that naughty, smug little shit inside of him that had wanted everyone to know they’d just been for a roll in the hay, quite literally. It appealed to his macho, alpha-male masculinity. “Dick.” Fliss scoffed, and as she headed inside his laughter accompanied by her dad’s exasperated chuckle hit her ears. 

**** Chapter 26

[raelly-writing]

Comfort - Thancred/fWoL

Some indulgent post-5.5 Part 1 fluff.

Nudity and some very tired adults being a bit flirty, but nothing NSFW or smutty in of itself.

----

“Did you ask for this?”

“In so many words, I suppose,” Thancred chuckled. The dull thud of the door being shut behind them was followed by the soft clang of him setting down their gunblades in a stand by it.

The wooden tub standing in his room was large enough to comfortably fit an elezen - or two hyurs. Lazy swirls of steam rose from the water, carrying with it a soft herbal scent that was oddly soothing after such a long and hectic day in an arid climate. On top of a stool was a pile of towels already laid out along with soaps. Thancred’s hand pressed into the space at the small of her back between her cuirass and belts as he came to stand next to her. Letting her breath rush out in a slow exhale, she turned her head to look at him.

Though there was a faint smile playing on his lips, there was no denying the fatigue etched into the lines around his eyes, the effect magnified by the smears of dirt clinging to his skin. Not that it was unexpected - even with that brief rest he’d had, he and Urianger had gone from Garlemald nearly straight onto the battlefield in Paglth’an.

“Remind me to thank Tataru then,” she spoke softly. Merely raising her hand to brush her fingers along the back of his neck made her muscles scream in protest as every scrape and bruise from the day made themselves known loud and clear. Sweat and dust had matted his hair, and it was tempting to run her fingers through it and try to untangle some of the knots.

Rather than pulling at her, Thancred stepped closer to her side, his hand light as he let it slide to rest on her hip. Viana turned into his embrace, eager for the contact, and let her eyes fall shut as she rested her cheek against his hair. Gods, she was so tired. It was tempting to just find the nearest soft horizontal surface and lay down to hide in the oblivion of sleep for a few precious bells.

“I’ll make sure to accidentally misplace a box of her favourite sweets in her desk’s drawer,” Thancred murmured against her neck.

Viana huffed out a short, weary laugh and nodded slowly. “That sounds good.”

The turmoil in her chest settled ever so slightly under the comforting weight of his arms around her waist. After the chaos of the day, the stillness of the room settled like a comforting blanket around them. The relief to finally be alone together, with no need to keep up their professional distance in front of the others was palpable. They leaned into each other, like the other was the only thing still keeping them on their feet.

Thancred’s slow breaths tickled her skin, his arms tight around her like he didn’t want to let go anytime soon. Viana idly brushed her fingers through his hair, earning a pleased sigh from him as he buried his face against her neck. The immediate feeling that he’d missed her made warmth creep up over her cheeks while a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

But it was hard to hold onto the momentary mirth. With her every breath, the scent of smoke and dry sand, blood, sweat and aether filled her nose, suffocating all but the faintest traces of his cologne that still managed to break through here and there. The bitter taste of helplessness that was all too familiar on her tongue, still lingered, her heart heavy knowing that there was nothing they could do to help Arenvald. A deep sigh made her shoulders slump further.

She hated this… the unknown, half expecting bad news to arrive at any moment, all while hoping for something good but not daring to think too much of it. She’d had enough of this feeling for a lifetime while they’d all been lying comatose in the infirmary, their souls on another world with no guarantee they’d be able to return.

Gods, Arenvald was still too young. Too hopeful...

“He’ll pull through,” Thancred said firmly, as though he knew where her thoughts were straying. “The lad’s strong. And too stubborn.”

Again, she nodded while making a low noise of acknowledgment at the back of her throat. “I hope so.”

He squeezed her waist, and they slowly untangled themselves from each other. “Come now,” he said with a quiet, comforting tone, “let’s get cleaned up.”

Taking a deep breath, she mustered a smile and leaned down to brush her lips to his. Despite what he said, Thancred quickly cupped the back of her head, holding her in place for a longer, firmer kiss that made her feel all the weeks he’d been away in Garlemald as keenly as a dragon smacking her into a rock wall. Thancred’s arm grew tighter around her waist, her heart fluttering in her chest as she all but melted into his embrace once more.

“There,” he murmured against her lips with a low, satisfied voice. “Missed that while in Garlemald.”

Laughing under her breath, Viana nuzzled her nose against his. “I missed you too,” she replied as she began to push his coat off his shoulders.

Thancred made a curious sound deep in his throat while standing still for her. “Oh, do tell, my dear” he drawled, his warm voice pitching down into a familiar rumble that had definitively haunted her dreams more than once while he’d been gone. Despite it, she could tell from the lack of its usual heat that it was more a jest than a serious suggestion - merely the comfort of familiar banter.

With a thoughtful hum, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll tell you,” she teased while stepping away from him, with his coat in her hands. “Later.”

Thancred’s low chuckle made her chest feel warm as he followed to where she could hang up his coat on a hook. Even with her armour in the way, there was something reassuring about the weight of his hand on the small of her back as he leaned against her. “I look forward to it,” he rumbled, but then reached up to begin easing her jacket off her shoulders.

Viana stood still and let him help her out of it, failing to bite back a wince at some of the twinges of sore muscles. “Thank you, love.”

“Hrrm, always do enjoy helping you out of your clothes,” he muse, but then instantly grunted and paused halfway to hanging up her jacket. “That sounded terrible.”

Viana laughed under her breath as she began removing one of her vambraces. “I think you’re excused of any lack of eloquence today.”

The weight of his hand returned to her hip, pulling her back around to face him. “Suppose we should save any strenuous activities for when we’re not so banged up,” he sighed while he busied himself with the clasps on her cuirass.

There was a thoughtful wrinkle between his brows, and she just barely resisted the urge to lean down and press a kiss to it. She had missed him, a lot, but as enjoyable as the thought was, the mere notion of anything but rest made her entire tense up in objection. No, all she wanted right now was to soak in a hot bath with him. Then have some food. Maybe a nap, if the time allowed it, before the inevitable discussions would begin of what the Scions should do next. “Probably best, yes.”

It was a relief to feel the pressure lighten around her body. The stiff leather sections had been pressing against and rubbing over what she was sure was large bruises and portions of skin still raw and sensitive from healing magic. While it was hardly the heaviest armour she’d worn, it was a relief nonetheless to be rid of the weight. Just as he eased it off her, a twinge of pain in her shoulder made her wince and tense up.

A concerned frown immediately darkened his features. “Does it still hurt?” he asked as he raised a hand to gently touch it.

Mustering a reassuring smile, Viana took her cuirass from his hand and set it aside. “It’s just a little stiff,” she replied, “Alphinaud said it’d probably be the case.”

“Hrrm… who knew fighting dragons in narrow canyons would lead to some scuffling,” he muttered. He began to undo the clasps on his own cuirass, but she firmly nudged away his hands.

“Here, let me,” she murmured.

He looked like he was about to object, but then he sighed with fond resignation and turned his attention to his vambraces instead. A comfortable silence settled over them as they continued helping each other out of their remaining gear, setting aside bags and potion satchels to be refilled later. They were both covered in dust and more than a few armour pieces seemed in need of repairs after too close calls with snapping jaws and sharp claws, or glancing blows from magitek arms, but for now, they just piled it all up in one place. They could deal with it later.

With a tired groan, Thancred finally tugged off his undershirt. Frowning, Viana brushed her fingers over the yellowed bruise still visible at his flank. Urianger’s magic had sped up the healing process to the point that it looked days old, but it was still large and nasty looking, with splotches of purple still visible.

“I’m fine,” he spoke up before she had a chance to voice her concern.

Viana glanced up to meet his gaze. “‘Looks worse than it is’, hm?”

Hells, fighting dragons in wide open areas was bad enough, but such large creatures had made the narrow ravines of Paglth’an seem even smaller. It had scared her half to death when a dragon had suddenly swung around to face attacks from somewhere else, and the wide arc of its tail had caught him off guard.

Thankfully it hadn’t been with full force, or he would have had more severe injuries to show for it.

Her glum thoughts were interrupted by Thancred leaning up to press a kiss to her jaw, his fingers already pleasantly distracting as they slipped under her shirt to dance up her sides. “Arms up, darling,” he hummed.

With a small, tired laugh she obeyed. “As you wish, ser.”

“Mmhm, I thought we agreed on saving that for later,” he chided while carefully pulling her shirt off, making sure not to jostle her bruised shoulder in the process.

“My apologies,” she chuckled, “couldn’t help it.”

Thancred gave her a crooked smile, but it faltered and turned more sombre as he gave her own bruises a critical onceover. Raising his hand, he let it gently rest over the worst one on her hip before pressing a lingering kiss to the slope of her neck. The simple gesture spoke volumes in of itself, and a comfortable affection warmed her chest as she brushed her fingers along the back of his neck and turned her head to press a kiss to his hair.

Bearing the brunt of their enemies’ ire was a burden they shared, but it did little to lessen the pain of seeing the other injured in any manner.

His hand skimmed over her waist, a small, careful tug urging her along towards the tub. They lingered together as they moved, exchanging small, brief kisses while they let their remaining clothes fall wherever they landed on the floor.

“Easy there,” Thancred murmured as he held her hand while she stepped into the tub.

Viana chuckled to mask the pleased noise threatening to rise from her throat - the water was just the right temperature, promising to soothe and relax every dull ache in her body. Mindful of her shoulder, she carefully settled down at one end of the tub. Thanks to the high edge, the water came up to her collarbones, fully enveloping her in the warmth. Immediately, it was like the last of her energy fled her body. Leaning back against the edge, her eyes fell shut as her breath rushed out in a sigh.

“Well, you sound quite pleased.”

Cracking open an eye, she gave Thancred an appreciative once over as he fished out a small canister from the water. The fire shards within clattered when he casually set it aside on the floor.

“Join me, and I’ll be even more so,” she replied with a little smile.

Thancred hummed and eyed her with an amused spark in his eyes. “I wasn’t planning on standing around in the nude.”

“Well, when you put it like that I suppose I wouldn’t complain about the view if you did,” she laughed and drew her legs close to her chest to give him room as he settled down on the other end, facing her.

A low, warm laugh rose from Thancred’s chest ebbed out in a satisfied sigh of his own as he leaned back. Viana watched fondly as his eyes drifted close and his entire body relaxed into the water with his deep exhale.

The muffled sounds of the bustle outside from Revenant’s Toll was a reassuring murmur in the background, but it did nothing to disrupt the comfortable silence that settled around them. Thancred’s chest rose with slow, even breaths, his head tilted slightly to the side. He must be more worn out than he’d let on.

Viana’s hand found his shin under the water and brushed her fingers up and down in an idle caress. “Tired?”

He blinked his eyes open and shot her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to fall asleep on you,” he drawled.

She raised an eyebrow as an amused smile spread on her lips. “You say that now, love, but you seem quite fond of using me as your pillow,” she teased gently.

Leaning forward, he loosely grasped one of her ankles and pulled her foot back to him. “And I have very much missed doing so while away,” he replied with a dramatic sigh. “Most dreadful change of pace, having to sleep on the cold, hard ground while using my pack as a pillow once more. These old bones of mine can’t handle it anymore.”

Laughing, Viana started to respond, but his nimble fingers began to press into the arch and heel of her foot, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to bite back a deep groan at the sensation. “Oh Hells,” she breathed, eyelashes fluttering. before her eyes slid shut with a content hum

The comfortable silence was only broken by Thancred’s quiet chuckle. While being crammed into the tub together maybe wasn’t the most comfortable of places, with the warm water and long day at her back, and Thancred slowly soothing the dull aches, it felt like a real, tangible risk that she’d fall asleep right on the spot.

How long it was until he, with another firm swipe of his thumb up the length of her foot that coaxed a long groan from her, at last switched to her other foot, she didn't know.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Viana huffed out a laugh - she didn’t need to look at him to know there was a self satisfied tilt to his smile. For a moment, she struggled against the warm, haze that’d laid itself over her mind to find the energy to speak, but finally she murmured, “Didn’t know you knew how to do this.”

“Hmmhm, I am a man of many talents.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Leaning her arm on the edge of the tub, she rested her cheek against her hand and opened her eyes to regard him. It was nice to see him so relaxed and at ease.

“Glad it hasn’t escaped your notice,” he drawled with a wink.

In a fit of juvenile playfulness, she wiggled her toes at him. Thancred snorted and gave one a little tug, coaxing a squeak from her.

His smile was infectious, mirth dancing in his brown eyes. All at once, she felt keenly aware of how her heart and mind felt so much lighter in his presence compared to the weeks that had passed since he’d left for Garlemald. How strange that they’d spent years knowing each other, yet it was just now that being apart made it feel like she’s missing a part of herself. Or had that sensation always been there before his soul had been ripped away to the First, and she’d just been too damned stubborn to acknowledge how much she missed him whenever their duties sent them in different directions?

“What’s on your mind?”

His question stirred Viana from her thoughts. Carefully, she pulled her foot from his grip. Thancred paused, his searching, questioning look softening when she shuffled to her knees. Any other day, when her muscles didn’t scream in protest at the effort of her movements, the appreciative sweep of his gaze following the trickle of water down her body would have sent a familiar heat curling through her veins.

Instead, she leaned forward, weight braced on the hand that wouldn’t upset her injured shoulder, and caught his lips in a chaste, tender kiss.

“Viana-,” he whispered against her lips, before his wet hand curled over the back of her neck, fingers pressing gently against the back of her skull. His other hand gave her waist a small pull, and with some shifting about, she soon reclined with her back against his chest and his arms around her. Viana tilted her head back to meet him when he nuzzled her cheek, the faint rasp of his stubble tickling her skin, then trailed a few lingering kisses to the slope of her shoulder. “We should probably get washed up, hm?” he murmured into her ear.

They probably should. Food was bound to be ready for them soon, with others coming calling for them. But she had no wish to move - she’d missed his embrace too much. Viana covered one of his hands with her own and raised the other to touch his cheek, then turned her head to press a kiss to his jaw. “I think we can afford to linger for a little while longer.”

Thancred made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles in her skin. “Then let’s do so.”

[guoxinghe]

Makoto Tachibana x Reader - How You Remind Me

I wrote this a looooooooong time ago back when I was on Deviant Art. 

Smut

Snowflakes danced around the both of you, collecting on your eyelashes.  The frigid gale quickly turned your cheeks red and dry as Makoto and you walked down the sidewalk.  A strong arm was wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to him, ensuring you didn’t slip on the small patches of ice.  You always seemed to find them under your feet, and too many times, you fell on your ass, bruising it for a couple days. That was before you met Makoto though. Even before you started dating, he’d always hold onto you when out and about during winter.  

Upon reaching the door to your apartment, Makoto ushered your shivering self inside, saying, “You’re freezing. I don’t want you catching a cold, love.”

“Mako, you don’t get a cold from the cold,” you remarked, but then you ended up sneezing multiple times into your sleeve.  Before he could say anything, you grumbled, “Not one word, sweetheart.”

Sighing in exasperation, he led you over to the plush sofa and grabbed a couple blankets from the large wicker basket.  You wished he didn’t worry so much, but asking for that was like asking Haru to never swim again.  So, you remained still as he wrapped blanket after blanket around you, pressing the back of his hands to your cheeks to help warm them up.  

Deep down, you appreciated these gestures because you frequently forgot to take care of yourself. For example, you tended to be a night owl, staying up well after midnight.  You really did try to sleep earlier, but you always got sidetracked and distracted by something.  You’d only realize how late it’d become if Makoto sent you a text if he woke in the middle of the night.  It was usually along the lines of “Get some sleep please, sweetheart” or “It’s really late.  You can finish what you need to tomorrow, love.”

After you’d become a sufficient blanket burrito, Makoto flitted about the kitchen, grabbing a couple mugs you’d been gifted for your birthday by Gou.  The aroma of freshly heated cocoa filled the apartment as he poured the chocolate into the mugs.  A small smile curved your lips when he returned with two piping hot cups of hot chocolate.  Settling next to you, Makoto immediately pulled you into his lap, holding you flush against him.  Your head rested against his firm chest, cradled in his arms.  

Kissing your forehead, he asked, “Warm?”

You giggled and nuzzled against him, relishing in his affections.  “Very.  Thanks, Mako.”

“I worry about you,” he said, brow wrinkled, “I’m worried you’re going to get really sick one of these days because you didn’t eat enough nutritious food, or you stayed up too late on too many nights.”

Frowning guiltily, you sighed.  “I know, I know.  But you don’t need to worry so much.”

“Nonsense.  Of course, I worry because I love you.”  After taking a sip of his hot chocolate, Makoto covered your lips with his in a chaste kiss.  “I love you more than anything.”

Not letting him escape, you reached up to let your palm rest against his nape, pulling him back down to kiss again.  Immediately, he melted into the kiss, probing you for entrance with his tongue.  You eagerly greeted him with your own, twining them around each other, savoring the taste of chocolate and him.  He groaned lightly into the kiss, bracing himself against the armrest with his free hand while the other wrapped securely around you.  In a swift motion, he stood causing you to squeak in surprise.  He carried you bridal style into your cozy bedroom down the hallway.

Pressing one more kiss to your nose, he set you down on the bed before stripping off his shirt, revealing hardened muscle underneath.  His pants sat low, teasing you with the sight of the sharp v of his hips. It was enough to make you rub your thighs together in anticipation underneath all those blankets.  

Leaning down, he cooed in your ear, “Just let me take care of you, love.”

A blush formed on your cheeks because you knew when he said that, you were going to be completely wrung out afterwards.  Slowly, he unwrapped the blankets from around you, causing you to shiver momentarily. Still, you’d be warm again soon enough, and you coyly bit your lip at the thought.  Large warm hands slid underneath your shirt to caress your sides. You sighed happily with his half-lidded gaze pinned on you underneath him.  Arching your back, you allowed him to sneak a hand around to undo the clasps of your bra.  He lifted your shirt up, stripping it off along with your bra, leaving your upper body bare.  Instinctively, you crossed an arm around your chest and averted your gaze, anxiety pooling in your gut.

Makoto frowned slightly, but he wasn’t upset at you.  No, he could never be.  He knew how terribly the voices whispered, calling you bitter names that never did fit you; ugly, hideous, disgusting, unlovable.  He didn’t miss the glistening tears welling in your eyes or your lips thinly pursed together in rumination.  Brushing a finger underneath your chin, he tilted your gaze back towards him.  Your eyes were wide in trepidation, and he could see the gears turning in your head.

He soothed, brushing a thumb along your cheek, “Focus on me, okay?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded meekly.  Gingerly, he brought your arm away from your chest, bringing your fingers up to his lips. He kissed each knuckle in turn, cradling your hand in the warmth of his own.  Smiling encouragingly, he squeezed your hand as he trailed kisses along your neck, the warmth of his tongue sparking prickles along your skin.  His free hand snuck down to your pants, caressing your hip underneath the fabric.  You inhaled sharply, goosebumps forming along your skin.  Pulling away, he snuck his other hand under your pants and slipped them off you, taking your panties with them.  Stripped completely naked, you scooted further up the bed, trying to keep your eyes fixed on Makoto.  His eyes never left yours as he trailed kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and brushing your inner thighs.  

Face to face with your arousal, he praised, “Pretty girl.”  Taking your hand again, he licked along your clit.  You squeezed his hand in turn, making him chuckle.  “You’re always so sensitive for me, sweetheart.”

Before you could say anything more, he slid his tongue inside, flicking it upwards in just the way you like.  You whimpered, hips wiggling involuntarily under his ministrations.  He smiled against you, bringing his tongue up to flick at your bundle of nerves again.  Slowly, he inserted a couple fingers, curling upwards to rub against your walls.  Groaning lightly in pleasure, your body finally relaxed in his hold.  

“Oh, Mako,” you breathed shakily as he caressed that sweet spot inside of you while sucking hard on your bud.

He pressed his fingertips harder, causing your legs to slightly quake as you shifted from the sensation.  It never took you long to come, and he always could tell when you needed just a tad more stimulation to push you over the proverbial cliff.  He rubbed faster, groaning against you when you bucked your hips. A couple more strokes had you gasping, writhing on the bed, legs threatening to clamp around his head.

Once your body calmed again, he decided to hazard a glance up at you.  Your forearm was laid across your forehead, chest heaving shakily with each breath.  Stepping back, he quickly removed his pants and boxers, stroking himself a couple times before joining you again.  Caressing along your inner thighs, he crawled back up along your body, kissing and suckling patches of skin, leaving small marks in his wake.  Nibbling slightly by your collarbone, his hand slid to cup your breast, thumb rubbing against the rigid tip.  

He whispered against the shell of your ear, “Ready?”

Hearing you hum in confirmation, he lined himself up and slowly pushed into your entrance. Groaning softly, he watched your expression for any signs of discomfort.  When he rocked forward another fraction of an inch, a sharp whimper escaped you.  Makoto froze, concern evident in the otherwise peaceful verdant of his eyes. Willing yourself to relax, you took a few deep breaths, letting tension melt into desire.  When the pain dulled, giving way to pleasure, you wrapped your arms around his neck, nodding for him to keep going.  Hips moving meticulously, Makoto cradled you in his arms, dropping kisses along your neck.  You shivered in delight, feeling his hardened muscle rub against your stomach.  

Pulling away, he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure.  Smiling, he pressed his forehead against yours.  “You’re so beautiful like this, spread bare beneath me. I’ll tell you as many times as I need to.”

Blushing, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering, “M-Mako…”

As you grew more accustomed to his size, his thrusts came faster, making you writhe underneath him from hypersensitivity.  Reaching down, he rubbed a finger against the aching bundle of nerves, never faltering in his movements.  There was no way in hell he was gonna finish first before you came a second time.  No, he wanted – needed – to draw out every bit of pleasure from your body which he adored so much.  He watched your eyes slip in and out of focus with each movement.  Groaning at the sight, he swallowed your whimpers in a passionate kiss, tongue twining with yours lazily before oxygen called him to pull away.  

He purred, “Can you give me a second one, sweetheart?”

You whined, hips bucking against his touch.  “M-Mako, I’m c-close…”

Kissing your forehead, his finger rubbed harder as he angled his thrusts deeper, hitting consistently against that sweet spot inside.  You could tell he was losing himself to desire too, shuddering and panting through ecstatic bliss.  Your legs trembled underneath him from all the stimulation.  It was like trying to hold cupped water in your hands, your mind slipping until the pleasure was all you could think about.  Thrusting one last time, Makoto felt you contract around him as your body tensed, chest heaving and gulping for air while you came undone beneath him.  You came with the cry of his name, and God, he had to kiss you for that.  Your hands had slipped from his neck to grip the pillow beneath you.  Cradling you in both arms again, he quickened his thrusts.

 “See?  This,” he moaned with a harsh gasp, like he could barely keep his composure through each shaky breath, “This is what you do to me.  You’re the only one who can make me feel this way, love.  I don’t have a problem reminding you.”  He chuckled breathlessly and smiled.  “Believe me.”

You cried, “Makoto!”

Capturing your lips again, he moaned as he came hard and uninhibited, trembling through his release.  Tightening his hold on you, he kept you under his protective warmth as he came down from his high.

Pulling out, he grabbed a towel on the side table.  Your body was like liquid, unable to move, but you certainly had no complaints.  Gingerly, he began wiping at the residue between your legs, stroking your hips with tenderness.  After cleaning himself up as well, Makoto settled down beside you and gathered you in his arms.  Your head rested on his chest, eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion. Fingers stroking your upper arm, he pressed his lips to your hairline.  You smiled sweetly and craned your neck up, asking for a direct kiss.

Staring down at you, his gaze holding all the affection in the world, he met your lips in a chaste kiss.  “I love you, sweetheart.”

[arthurtristankingsmen]

The bed was cold.

It took several minutes to drift from her exhausted slumber, but it was the first thing she noticed, even before her eyes opened. There was always a hand curled over her side that held her close, always the warmth of a body behind her, and always soft, equally warm breaths that tickled her neck while she slept. The absence of that presence, of that face buried in her hair nuzzled close, was jarring. It was enough to wake her, even after a night of overwork to ensure a dreamless, deep sleep.

Her eyes creaked open slow. They were gummed shut, and it took a few brushes with the heel of her palm to clear away the fuzz they left on her vision. She squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand beside her; the face read three twenty in the morning.

Joints protesting her movement, she grunted and turned over. The bed was empty, sheets and blankets disheveled where a body should have been, a space vacant where legs should have tangled with hers. She kicked the covers off and away, only half aware of them falling from the mattress to pool on the floor.

Wiping at her face again to further dispel the fatigue, Mrs. Pepper sat up.

The bedroom was still nestled in muted colors this early in the morning, most of the pinks and purples drained to a motley of greys. The alarm clock’s fluorescent numbers (it now read three twenty-five) helped dispel some of the darkness near the bed. The rest of the room was illuminated by thin, slatted beams of moonlight filtering through the blinds over the windows. They reflected off the glass panes of photo frames hanging on the opposite wall, the glare hiding their contents. Most of the little decorations and knickknacks in the room, gifts from her children over the years, were rendered to silhouettes.

She was alone.

There were signs she hadn’t been, now that she looked. Some of the bric-a-brac had been adjusted; the shadows cast by the objects made it hard to tell, but for a few changes were obvious. She could see the lid of the music box had been opened. Could tell the angle of her favorite figurine --one of her family— was different than it was when she saw it each morning. Any cobwebs strung from it had been dusted away, too.

A few of the photo frames had been adjusted too, straightened so perfect they looked strange, no longer at their usual tilt they’d get to fixing when they had time. On the door to the wardrobe across the room, her uniform hung where it had been left after work. The fabric was crisp now, every wrinkle ironed away, and her work-shoes were angled against the wood just under it.

She continued to scan the room, but a frown graced her face, growing deeper every second; the shadows felt darker, deeper, and the silence crept at her skin like the cold did.

Frown more a grimace now, she slipped from the bed and trudged from the room.

Her eyes flicked to the furthest door along the corridor. But the door was the sun, and she looked away quick to keep from going blind. She bit her lip and shook her head, before focusing on the nearest one.

Her husband wasn’t in the bathroom. She would have heard the water running or the hum of the fluorescent bulb over the sink. Or she would have seen the stripe of light beneath the door. He wasn’t in the guest room either; she could see the untouched bed, pristine as ever. If anything, he had made it again.

She checked the girls’ room next, one by one. They’d had enough nightmares since their brother had vanished, waking up in tears screaming for—

…

Well.

He wasn’t here to answer them right now (it had to be right now. It had to be temporary), but she and her husband did their best to offer them comfort. They curled their children close, stroking their hair and kissing their foreheads and their tears away, promising their brother would come home and rocking them until they drifted off again.

But tonight seemed to be a welcome respite from the nightmares. Each of the girls were the only occupants in their rooms, breathing slow and even as they slept. They each wore their own peaceful expression smoothed by sleep, wreathed in their blankets with halos of curled hair consuming their pillows. It brought a smile to her face to see them resting; to see them breathing. To see them okay, even if right now okay was fleeting.

With that small affection in her chest, she tucked a hanging leg from Belle under her horse-print comforter, smoothed the hair away from Cayenne’s forehead, and recovered the alpaca plush Paprika clung to while sleeping from where it had fallen to the floor. When she was sure she’d done what she could for each of her daughters, she graced their temples with the softest kiss, and crept from their room.

But she still had yet to find her husband. He was probably…

Please. Let him be anywhere else.

The carpet audibly swished under her feet as she shuffled along. Where the hall gave way to the stairwell, the carpet turned to floorboards that creaked faintly under the occasional careless step. She kept one hand tucked against her chest and the other on the railing as she leaned over and listened.

Downstairs, the TV was off, which meant he wasn’t in the living room. The light to the study didn’t filter into view either, which meant he wasn’t in there, busying himself with reading books or with his paints and the canvases. And the resounding silence from the kitchen meant he hadn’t decided to occupy himself with busywork, either.

Which left one more room. Of course. She’d known. She just wanted to be wrong.

Her hands shook, but she clasped them together until they didn’t. She swallowed, took enough breaths to slow her heart, and approached the last door in the hallway.

She hardly felt the cold of the knob against her skin. The door swung open silently into the dark room, revealing the mat at the door. A square rug depicting eleven planetary symbols, each in a different color on a black background. Stars hung from the ceiling where they’d been strung up, no longer aglow. The thick curtains over the windows hadn’t been opened to recharge them in months.

There was a form on the bed.

She knew who it was. She knew. But her heart still leapt into her throat until she swallowed it.

Mrs. Pepper drifted over to him, keeping her eyes away from the bookshelves of memories and the dresser armored in stickers. He was laying still, on top of the covers, curled up small as she’d ever seen him. In his hands was a photo-book. She recognized the cover as one of—.

“Mi vida?”

The form shifted at her whisper. Mr. Pepper looked to his wife with glass eyes reflecting the hallway’s light and sparkles sideways on his cheek. “Jagi… Did I wake you?”

“No…” His face said he knew she was lying, but he didn’t protest. “What are you doing awake, amor?”

His fingers crested the cover of the book, finding the ridge of the photo glued on. “I dreamed about him again…”

She seated herself beside him, her hand coasting his on the book, to keep his itching fingers from peeling off the snapshot. To keep herself from seeing his face. Her fingers over the lamination felt like needles. “I’m sorry.”

“I miss him.” He whispered, turning further into her. He abandoned the book to the bed, arms curling around her waist instead. “….Did we fail him? Could we have done better to keep him safe?”

“He is an adult.” She soothed, fingers running through his hair. “We loved him everything we have. We still do. But we...” She swallowed. “...we couldn’t protect him from everything. Not forever.”

“We should be out looking for him.”

“We were told to stay here, in case he comes home. Arthur and Vivi are looking for him.”

Mr. Pepper shook his head in a violent roll against her lap. “Vivi doesn’t even know who he is—Arthur is barely recovered and he’s killing himself. Our children are hurting—our son is missing— and we just sit here and wait.” His voice carried a force his volume didn’t; the girls were sleeping only doors away.

“What should we do?” She asked it with a stern voice, but not one with any heat. “Arthur and Vivi at least know what they are doing. Vivi is far more useful in a fight than you or I will ever hope to be. Arthur is good at maneuvering. The two of them protect each other. And they have Mystery. If something goes wrong for us, we don’t have any of those things. Our daughters would have to mourn alone. Without us.” Maybe hoping they’d come home too.

Her husband made a pained sound. A muted cry into her sleeping pants. She felt the pain echo inside her and bounce off every corner.

She took a deep breath, then nudged him. He complied easily, and after a brief moment of sliding the scrapbook to the nightstand, Mrs. Pepper joined her husband in the bed, laying beside him and facing him. Her legs tangled with his and she cupped his cheeks, framing his face with slender fingers. “Mi vida. I’m... I’m sorry. I wish I had better words. Something to fix this. I know you’re hurting…”

Mr. Pepper sniffed, a warbly, wet noise. He reciprocated her touch, fingers gliding over her cheeks and leaving warm trails in their wake. “…I know you are too….I… I’m sorry. I know you miss him. You can’t even say his name…”

Mrs. Pepper swallowed the thickness burning in her throat. “It…it’s easier.”

“Why…?”

“If…If I think about him. I… can’t be strong enough. I’m not strong enough to say his name.” Mrs. Pepper felt the warmth building in her chest. Her eyes were stinging and her throat tightened with each swallow. “You need me. The girls need me. I can’t.”

Mr. Pepper stole himself closer with a shift, looking into her eyes, still teary but a firmness to his expression she didn’t expect. “You don’t have to be strong…. You don’t have to carry us. Jagi, tell me your thoughts. Please.”

The please cracked something she’d hidden beneath a shell, breaking it away like a spoon to tempered chocolate. Her eyes welled further as she looked at her husband, and the breath she took was ragged. “We… we wanted him to be safe, but choose his own way…. He’s an adult. He needed to make his own choices and if he got hurt we could be there if he stumbled and fell, to help him back up. But we would let him make his mistakes his own way and try to help as much as we could. But this one….. I--- I ……”

She buried her face in his shoulder, hands going to his back beneath his arms. “I—why did I let him go?!” She cried into him louder than she thought she had in her, the sound muffled by fabric. The heat in her chest was pouring out her mouth, and she screwed her eyes shut as they watered and burned. “I can’t—I—I’m so angry— why didn’t I tell him it was too dangerous?! What if he doesn’t come home?! What will we do? I don’t care about the restaurant. I don’t care about keeping things going. Every day is working until I can’t think just so I don’t think about him—about where he is and if he’s alone or safe or if he’s even alive—.”

She felt his arms around her, felt herself curled against his chest and the hand in her hair, pressing through the coils to cup her scalp. But it was all so far away, the sensations shapeless, behind glass. “How am I supposed to pretend every time someone asks? Knowing I’m without my son? How are we supposed to live day to day and say everything is fine? How do I say thank you to all those condolences that don’t bring him back!? How do I listen to them?! How do I smile?! How do we tell the girls? How are we supposed to survive if he doesn’t come home?”

It didn’t feel possible. Her heart would break too small to beat. “I just want him home. I want to hold my baby and know he’s here and safe. I want to never let him go again. I want to hear him sing. I want to hear him laugh with his friends at the table in the other room. I want to hear him call me Mamá. I want to hear him talk about Vivi and Arthur and see his eyes so full of love! I want him. I want him back! I would do anything in the world please mijo—please Lewis just come home--.” Her voice continued, but it was a thrumming vibration. The snatches she caught were blended into nothing. She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to say. 

But what was there she could say? She knew he understood more than anyone. And there were no words for this kind of unknowing agony, waiting for better or for worse.

But she could feel Mr. Pepper’s arms squeeze around her, holding her closer and closer. She heard soft murmurings by her ear and felt warm hands along her back, tracing over her spine.

It didn’t make her feel better, didn’t take away the pain, but it helped her breathe. She was half aware when she’d stopped speaking, and the hand in her hair was now at her face, wiping at her eyes. She kept sobbing until there wasn’t air to cry with, until she was dry and used up, everything wrung from her.

“I... I think you needed that.” Mr. Pepper whispered, when she’d stopped shaking and laid limp against him. He kissed at another tear that’d come loose and rolled down to the bridge of her nose. “How do you feel…..?”

“Awful.” Mrs. Pepper swiped at her face. “But… I don’t know. Better. As better as I can feel with everything.”

“You’ve been helping us for months.” Mr. Pepper frowned and took her hand away, keeping her from continuing the rough movements. “The girls. Me… I… I’ve been selfish. Hurting, but selfish. For not seeing if you needed help too. I should’ve knowing it was a brave front for us. You needed support too. An outlet. But I focused on me.”

Mrs. Pepper shook her head. “We’ve all been trying to survive this, however we could. I don’t blame you. We’ve all been...” She didn’t want to say grieving. But it hung in the air unsaid.

He nodded. “I’ll still do better. I’ll still hold you like you hold me.”

She smiled at that. A tired one, but a smile. “I… what are we going to do, amor…?”

Mr. Pepper shook his head. “I… don’t know. Hope for the best, until we can’t. What you’ve told me. We’ll put up more posters. We’ll call further out places for information….we’ll keep our phones charged. So if Arthur or someone else calls, we can be there, the second they find him.”

Mrs. Pepper sniffed and nodded, wiping at her face again. “We’ll keep a candle in the window. Every night.”

“That too.” Mr. Pepper kissed her forehead. “Just like when he found us the first time. The light will lead him home.”

Mrs. Pepper made a noise of agreement, and felt the smallest of smiles when her husband wiped her eyes, thumb stroking over her cheeks. “Thank you.. Thank you. For-- listening. I love you, mi vida.”

“I love you too.” He whispered back. He kissed her gently, their lips drawing together in a brief moment of comfort, a respite for a beat from the rest of the world. It didn’t’ fix anything, but it was something to hold onto for now. Being alone together wasn’t as lonely.

“Do you want to rest now…?” He asked her when the kiss parted. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to dream. I don’t want to sleep.” She grabbed his hand. “But I—I want to stay together a little while.”

“We can do that.” Mr. Pepper nodded. “Here…?”

She shook her head. “No. I… not here.” She was too emotional already. She would break again if she stayed in his room, surrounded by his things but knowing he was gone.

Mr. Pepper didn’t answer, but he gave her another soft kiss. “Our room, then.” He moved to get up, and she followed, grunting and brushing back frazzled hair.

Her eyes drifted to the album, where it rested on the nightstand. She plucked it from its resting place, cradling it to her chest. “Look at these with me…? Not tonight. But….”

Mr. Pepper took her hand. “We can. When you’re ready. I—I’d like to see him again.”

“I would too….” She breathed, squeezing back. “Maybe… maybe with the girls.”

“We could make a collage for the restaurant.” Mr. Pepper offered. “He might like to see that, when he comes back. Seeing we didn’t forget him. And it might help them to feel we’re all going through this together.”

Mrs. Pepper felt like her voice might betray her, the way her throat sealed with a swallow. She nodded her agreement once more and kissed his hand. She followed her husband into the hall, linked together and holding tight. “For when he comes back...”

She had to hold on to the thought. That Vivi or Arthur or someone would find him. He would be okay.

He had to be, or she didn’t know what she’d do.

[bluecookies02]

Twice x F!Reader-NSFW

pic credit: official manga i just used some filters on here

summary: face-sitting. That's it. That's the plot.

You get obliterated against a wall too , don't worry babes.

warnings: mature content (you don't say)

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You were trailing firm, soothing circles against your boyfriend's shoulder as he blew out the last puff of his cigarette, putting it out on an almost full ashtray.

He was on edge.

Throughout the whole day he was on the verge of splitting, yet he was determined to give you a normal day in your life. An opportunity to have a ,,normal" boyfriend for at least one damned day.

You were of course, against this, but arguing with him at this point wasn't gonna work.

So after his last cigarette, his hands began trembling again, his face scrunching up in pain as he willed himself to get through it.

He was pulling at his hair, mumbling incoherent words under his chin, his legs digging into the cushion of the couch.

You had to do something. But just pulling a shirt over his head would make it pretty obvious and he would probably just rip it out of your hands and throw it onto the floor (like he did a few times already).

Distractions.

He needed distractions.

You reached a hand towards his cheek, turning his face to yours.

"Baby move""Hit the bitch"

His right arm trembled, gripping at your sleeve with great force, wrinkling the material under his fingertips.

As he wasn't at his best shape at this particular moment, it was rather easy, maneuvering yourself ontop of him and pushing your lips against his own.

"I can't right now bab-" "Get your filthy mouth off of me you crazy whore"

Your hands found their way to his neck, trapping him against your lips as he moved against you on instinct.

You feel a sharp pain surging through your bottom lip and you groan, pulling away, watching a few blood drops drip onto his chest.

"Baby I'm sor-split , splitting, I, please please, need to ...have to" Your heart ached as your boyfriend struggled beneath you.

Mama didn't raise a quitter tho.

You were quick to discard your panties, sitting your bare ass over his naked torso.

Hitching up your shirt, you revealed the soft flesh of your stomach.

Jin's eyes were glued to your form, your tits still covered by the thin fabric, your ass gliding over his boxers and up to his belly.

You grasped his hands in your own, placing them at the edge of your shirt.

Jin sat up, gulping as he took in the sight of you.

"Go ahead baby"

He dived face first under your shirt, his hands slipping underneath, squishing his head between the plump flesh.

His dull nails left tiny red marks on your skin, his breathing finally slowing down, his ears still buzzing .

His eyes were shut tight and his jaw slacked as he mouthed at your skin.

"You're doing so good baby, I'm so proud of you...Talk to me honey" You whispered against the top of his head.

"Thank you, I'm sorry, sorry, so sor-" "It's a trap, she'll kill us!" You sighed.

You pushed him back down onto his back , your legs now trapping his head between your thighs.

"You can do this sweetheart, concentrate"

You willed him to start moving.

His arms went up to your hips, the grip of one almost unbearably rough while the other one traced patterns into your hip.

He opened his eyes slowly, drool forming at his tongue as he was met with you wet folds.

He shuddered embarrassed, red covering his cheeks as his mind was now completely centered on you. As if both of his sides finally agreed on something.

His hot muscle dipped into your greedy cunt and you shuddered atop of him, thighs clasping together at the sensation.

You gripped the strands of his hair, holding onto him as he lapped at your pussy, groans leaving his mouth each time he licked the juices off of his own lips.

His hands were now guiding your hips over his mouth, making you ride his face.

Your moans filled the room, your fingers digging into his scalp as he pushed two of his fingers into your hole, tongue moving to circle at your clit.

His fingers pushed against all the right spots inside of you and you were nearing you high rather quickly. His fingers prodding up as his other hand forced you down to meet each pump.

Just as you were about the cum , Jin growled beneath you, leaving you empty as he completely slid you off of him.

The pang of dissatisfaction struck your chest as he pushed you away, getting up off the bed.

"I-I'm sorry Jin, I shouldn't have-..."

You were pulled to your feet and pushed against the wall, your back hitting the rough surface as you yelped.

Jin lifted your chin up with force, his mouth crashing against yours, both hands now hosting your legs around his torso.

His hips ground into yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your slick lips, damping his underwear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, digging your fingertips into his shoulderblades, using him to secure yourself between him and the wall.

One of his hands left your hips as he pulled his underwear down with force, just so his cock could be freed from the restraint.

"I can't hold back anymore babe I'm sorry, really sorry. Don't hate me. Don't hate-" His hips slammed into yours with force, his mouth opening agape as you squeezed around him.

How could you...How could you hate him when he filled you up so perfectly, stretching you exactly how you liked it.

Touching you and praising you as he ruthlessly pushed in and out of you. Picking up the pace almost instantaneously.

"You're so gorgeous baby"

His head was now buried in the crook of your neck, nibbling at your pulse. Nuzzling his head against you.

He was so deep inside that with every thrust, your clit rubbed against him, making the coil in your stomach tighten.

"I'm gonna fill you up real nice...can I baby?"

You mewled at his question, nails dragging down his back as the burning sensation rose inside of you.

Just a few thrusts and you were coming around his cock, your walls tightening around him, the pressure pushing him over the edge as he gave one finnal deep thrust, groaning as the hot liquid filled you up, his hips twitching and giving a few additional jerks as you milked him dry.

His legs shook as he brought you both back to your couch, flopping onto it over your frame.

"Thank you" he whispered as you smiled tiredly at him.

Your legs tangled with his as he laid his head onto your chest.

____________________

okay okay hear me out

what if

possibly

maybe

Jin ever agrees

on fucking you with his clones

Just a thought.

________________

Requests:closed

commission:open (1 slot)

Ko-fi link is in my bio💕

[ficsnroses]

Telling Him You’re Pregnant - John Wick x Reader

❧ Summary : John comes back from a month long job, and you have some exciting news to tell him finally.

Warnings: so much fluff.

Word Count : 1.8k. “im writing drabbles”, she said.

Prompt : “please don’t cry.” requested by anon!

feedback and comments are really greatly appreciated. its really tough to find drive to write without.

“Whacha doing?” You softly ask through a smile, arms lacing around John’s waist only to rest your hands on his front as he stands at the balcony, sipping a cup of morning dark roast gazed off in the distant New York horizon. Despite towering over you, hugging John from behind had always been one of your favourite ways to snuggle him. He smiles big, the feel of your body flushed to his back enveloping a serene comfort; something he’d missed tremendously over the last month being away for work.

“Hi, baby.” He muses, voice gentle and kind in the crisp, breezy natural AM air. His hand takes hold of yours, bringing it up to his lips for a tender kiss to your palm; smell of your lavender hand cream so familiar. “Did I wake you?” Grimaced, he frowns, a tighten to your hold of hands as your cheek rests to his back, eyes clasped shut as you hold him tight; fresh morning air exuding your lungs in a revitalising inhale. “I tried hard not to.” He frowns, placing the ceramic mug steaming to the flat of the balcony rail.

John came in fresh and early from his month long job away, desperate to see your face after far too long apart. In classic Jonathan fashion, he’d found you still fast asleep in your shared California bed, covers nuzzled to your face in a drowsy slumber. With the sheets gently peeled down just enough to see, John had doused dozens of small, loving kisses over your skin; a couple to your cheeks, some to your temples, your chin, even a softer one stippled into your hair before tucking the sheets secure around your frame, cotton pillows fluffed ever so gently for your comfort, afore walking out the room to enjoy a fresh cup of morning coffee.

Breathing in his woody scent, you grin to the familiar fragrance; his cologne might just be your favourite aroma in the entire world.

It affirms he was near; close. Exactly where you needed him.

“You didn’t.” Promising, your hands soothe over his chest, gently sanctioning a small kiss dotted to his broad back. “But the coffee timer did.”

Chuckling in epiphany, John takes grasp of your forearm, lightly positioning his love beside him. “Come here, I want to kiss you properly.” He relishes, smiling when your smaller frame perfectly wraps into his chest, bulked arms holding you in a tight, delicate hug. With a kiss to the top of your head, he lifts your chin up by his index, smiling wholly into the connect of your fawning lips moving sync in a ballet of your own; a familiar, long overdue token of your love. Cupping his stubble ridden cheek, you smile a symphony of your own when he moans, completely content into your lips, hands roaming the delicate curve of your hips as he makes up for a thousand kisses lost over the month long period spent apart. “I love you.” He whispers, eyes closed to a rest of your foreheads together. “I missed you so much.”

“And I, you.” Grinning, your joy barely contains watching him, intuiting how loved; cherished he makes you feel, how adored he never lets you forget you are. John has always been this loving, this soft, this caring and compassionate. John is one of a kind; a mountain so strong, a miracle to be what he is, despite where he’d come from, the troubles he’d caved through. He often tells you of his insecurities, how lucky he feels to have you; unworthy of you through his own eyes.

You reason quite the opposite, however. You’d gotten the best of the best, struck gold within him. John is something else; something so wholesomely unreal. Your most prized possession, as you are his.

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been meaning to tell him special news, the thought practically clawing away at your insides through a merry eagerness since you’d found out for your own. Now that he’s returned, clear of any cuts or dragging purple bruises littered to his skin, you feel complete ease, gratified that soon, you’d share perhaps one of the most memorable moments of your lives together with him.

Soon, in a mere couple of moments, your lives would change forever.

John holds you close still, smiling as you rest against his chest, both your gazes locked out into the horizon out distant. He sways you so faintly, so gently; whisked away in a world of your own right now, right here. Your move to New York had been tough, family and friends forgotten behind, so many memories elapsed in the now foreign restraints of your hometown. After meeting John however, much of that changed.

New York became your home; John became your home. Memories made with him your most beloved.

You can’t wait to tell him. Well known this is something you’ve both sought for a long, long time.

With your head hovering off his chest, John looks down, shooting you a heartfelt, slightly confused beam.

“What did you do while I was gone?” He wonders, tucking a stray strand of loose hair behind your ear. His thumb his callous, rough against the frame of your face; yet holds the sincerest gentleness, your body still bound in his arms.

“Not much,” You reason. “Some gardening, a few projects, cleaned practically every room in the house.” You chuckle, gaze downcast between you two as you find the right words. “But uh…” stalling, your mind jumbles on how exactly to deliver the news. You’d been anticipating this from the exact second you’d found out; truth be told, you were incredibly upset you couldn’t share that moment with John. The moment you were made sure of your feelings, the symptoms were no longer just plausible ‘what if’s. It would have meant the world to him to be there with you; a promise he always wanted to uphold.

Clearing your throat, you continue. “I started feeling a little low energy, some aches here and there.” John frowns, palms on your back soothing up and down.

“Are you alright now? Or do you still feel that way?” Smiling, your hands move from around his waist to emerge around his neck. “I’m okay.” Reassuring, you cup his cheek, thumb grazed under the soft skin of his eye. Dark circles threatened to loom; John was usually in dire need of respite after a job so long.

Hands placed on his sturdy shoulders, you carry on. “But then, I missed my period this month…” John watches you intently, eyes fully focused, waiting for you to finish your sentence. Seemingly, he hadn’t quite caught on yet. With a smooth of a wrinkle in his white Henley shirt, you bite your lip. “And I had my suspicions but I wasn’t sure, it’s never happen to me before. None of this has happen to me before…” Eyes now locked, you remark the way his lips thin in a straight line, attentively listening, still holding you secure.

Smiling wider now, you softly take hold of your husband’s hand off your back, trailing it closer, placed just above your lower abdomen. “I took a test.” Hinting, your smile barely contains. “John, baby,” The words fall so naturally, so right. “I’m pregnant.”

Frozen, still, John revenues a moment to process the words, to fully comprehend, realize what you had just told him. His eyes widen, temples raising before a goofy smile begins to appear to his soft features. “Wait, you’re…” Glanced between your entwined bodies, with a heavy palm still placed to your belly, John comprehends. Now, it wasn’t just your belly. It was where your child would grow, a child you’d made out of nothing but pure, unconditional, love.

“Sweetheart, you’re…pregnant?” He smiles a wide grin, happiness coated in each of his features, wonderstruck eyes lit up dewy glow. The gentle breeze wafts around; strays of John’s espresso dark hair fluttering freely. You nod, eyes brimming with a soft dampness as you watch the way he stares, awestruck, taking in the news.

“Yeah.” You giggle, hand still placed over his on your tummy. “You’re going to be a daddy, John.”

A daddy. John was finally going to be a father, have a child of his own. A family of his own. Everything he’d ever wanted. For John, you in your entirety were far more than enough. Yet now, to have a beacon of something, someone that would become the biggest symbol of your love that ever was; John hardly contains. You’d truly, ceaselessly given him everything. You gave him everything he dreamt of on lonesome nights, secluded and alone. Everything he’d hoped for on quiet days spent lost; wishing for something more. John eyes water, glossy tears threatening to glide his rosy cheeks.

“Hey,” You whisper, cupping his cheek when he draws you closer, connecting your foreheads again. “Please don’t cry.” You kiss his lips softly, a cup to his tender cheek. He chuckles, lips drawn back to yours with a choke back of happy tears.

“When did this happen?” He asks, a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’s so close, his heartbeat rhythms to your skin, the proximity promising dearest affection.

Rosily blushed, you smile to the thought, gaze away from his eyes. “I guess that night before you left. Or the morning after.” Giggling, you hear him chuckle as he takes hold of your hand tighter, bringing it up for a kiss.

“That was a pretty good night. And morning.” He returns, thinking back to the way you fell asleep in his arms after making love, only to wake up close, bodies becoming one yet again in the morning. “Baby, I...” He starts, eyes reverting down as his smile fades. Worrisome, your heart practically stills in your chest, a heavy anticipation moulding over to the mere thought of John not wanting this.

Not wanting this, with you.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” He hesitates, eyes connecting to yours finally, again. With his hand taking hold of both yours, he holds them firm, fingers laced. “I…I promise I will be the best father to our baby. I promise that I won’t ever take this for granted.” He whispers, sincerely. “You, this baby…you’re all I ever wanted.” Choking back tears, John wearily holds himself together, head tucked into the crook of your neck in a delicate embrace. “I’m so happy. Thank you for giving me this life.” He appreciates, deep baritone of his voice surging through your ears.

Amiably contending, you hold him tighter. “I know you’ll be the most amazing father to our child. They’re going to love you so much, Jonathan.” Blinking bay warm tears, you cup his cheek a final time, whispering. “So much, they’ll adore you forever.”

John sighs, nodding his head. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispers, sincerely. “So much.” And with his hand placing softly back to your mid, he voices, deep and coarse in his throat; yet upheld with that familiar smoothness, John’s unique gentleness. “I’ll always take care of you. Both of you.”

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