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suguru-getos · 2 months

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“they’ll kill you!” — “can they?”

satosugu x reader — cnc

warnings: cnc!, degradation, prone!bone, doggy, use of toys, clamps, spreader, spankings. aftercare <3 pls note that it’s not beta’d there might be typos xx 💋

you were tired as you returned from work, footsteps dragging across from the stairs to finally reach the bedroom of the sato-sugu estate. this was the least thrilling bit of your day, no one was home. satoru was busy with a mission & suguru was outside — doing you don’t know what. you don’t question the morality of your husband number two. you’ve learnt to let him be in his element, just like satoru.

opening the refrigerator, you found satoru’s mochi, suguru’s favorite soup & a little bit of leftovers from the morning lunch prepared by the chef. they’re also on leave & at this point you’re conflicted between using the ordering in app in your phone, or cooking something for yourself. a grunt escapes you as you weigh down the options and settle down on the marvelous wood sculpted chair of the dining table. scrolling aimlessly through the various restaurants to get something that you desire. fucking hell! why is ordering food such a daunting task! when satoru and suguru return, you’d bother them & be clingy endlessly just cause you miss their brainless bickering. satoru would be just as aimless like you, fumbling through the menu and debating on what to order… suguru would have the same thing eaten on repeat. so much so that it annoys the both of you.

speaking of — it goes without saying how many ‘enemies’ your husbands have. one is a special grade sorcerer, the other is a bloody cult leader. both of them jacked & bagged with heaps of copius amounts of money & status in their own ways. you’re their silly little wife, someone capable of becoming a sorcerer, someone who could see curses and cursed spirits, yet choosing a life like nanami kento. a life away from the wretched world of sorcery.

a thud, takes your attention away from your phone a bit. who could it be? there are cats in the estate which are regularly fed, it could be your son (your cat that you and your husbands cherish equally). you roll your eyes and go back to checking the menu. fuck this, if you don’t have any ideas on what to order, you will order some spicy cheesy ramen & get go with your day.

after placing the order, you dragged yourself to the bathroom to take a shower, it would be better before bed after all, sleeping in plush clean pillows and letting your body heat come down as the cold water would drench your worries away.

your phone vibrated before you could take another step to the bedroom, it was suguru, “oh hey…” you chirped, smiling over the phone. “hey darling, reached home?” he sounds cheerful, mostly when he hears your voice of course. you’ve noticed suguru talks to you in the most gentlest of ways; enough to sound patronising at times. you know its not his intention though… “yeah, just reached home. when are you n’ toru coming?” you pouted over the speaker, and he chuckled. “give me an hour or two and i’ll be right there, next to my beautiful angel. mm?” you gnaw at your lip, nodding gently, the realization coming later that he can’t really ‘see’ your response and you hummed, “yeah, come soon to me mkay?”

where were you again? ah… the shower…

the doorbell rang, your eyes instantly mingling with the lit screen of your watch as you turned your wrist. jeez, it had only been 15 minutes or so since you ordered, the food is here so soon? you checked your phone, and the order was still showing ‘preparing’ status. weird… who could it be?

you walked towards the entrance, and the knock was more powerful, almost angry sounding & impatient. “who’s there?” you raised a brow, sighing a little to gather your patience and also your wits.

no answer…

then, the door was knocked off the hinges, you shrieked almost, walking backwards and pupils moving in fear. what was even happening? there were two men, one of them had bangs and the other white haired and scary looking. he smirked, walking closer to you and holding your face instantly, squeezing your cheeks into a forced pucker. “dumb little thing can’t even open a door? jeez?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

the dude with bangs held his shoulder, a knowing, close-eyed smile. “leave it be, she must be their weakling of a wife, gojo.”

he nodded, “weakling indeed, look at how she’s cowering.” he chuckled, leaning in and licking a fat strip of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear. you wince, struggling and trying hard to push him away. “SWOP IT!” you whined, the grip on your cheek turning harder and making it difficult to sound coherent.

“swop it!” gojo mimicks you, pushing you a little as he lets you go. “ we were here to steal the cursed tools but we might as well do some cursed thingys, no?” he snickered, and you shake your head, nauseated as your heart raced and you leaned back, unlucky enough to be stopped by a wall.

“m-my husbands- will be home soon… if you really care about your lives then leave!” you sounded as intimidating as possible, trying so hard to evade the bone crushing anxiety that the two powerful men were giving. “of course, we’d be gone by then.” the man with bangs replied, ignoring you and looking around. “nice house, your husbands don’t care about you enough it seems, why else would they leave their little wife alone in such a looming, large place?”

“shut up! even if you leave they’d hunt you down and they’d find you! suguru can deploy curses that are exceptional in hunting people down.” you only have your husbands and their skills to protect you right now. “did you hear that geto? she’s so mouthy and has such an attitude, damn!”

“about time we show her the world isn’t a good place… also, with a body like that? she’s practically asking for it.” the black haired man — geto, chuckled, rolling his eyes and walking closer.

your mind was hazy by now, and all you could see was the corridor to make a run to. you do exactly that, and how stupid— it took gojo exactly four steps to catch up to you by your hair and chuckle at your screaming. “let me go! let me go!” you winced, letting your feet dragged back to the couch. “would be fun to ruin her at this point.” geto hums, crossing his arms & smirking at the way you shake your head no, pleading almost.

“in the same bed her bastard husbands make sweet sweet love to her.” gojo chuckles, “aww, don’t look at us like thaatt? i’m sure they would understand that boobs like that would get ya into trouble.” gojo winked, smirking.

“ass, too.” geto added, smirking gently.

“piss off and die, rot in hell and fucking die!” you snarled, tearing up at the way they talked about you. “can’t handle them mouthy tell ya that.” gojo sounded almost feigning apologetic, bringing out a handkerchief out from his pocket and holding both ends diagonally.

you were about to be gagged, terror seeped through your eyes as you shook your head. but geto was faster, immediately hindering all your resistance by keeping you locked. his hands quickly wrapping around your wrist and holding it behind your back, his legs wrapping around yours, spreading your thighs apart vulnerably.

"aw good one!" gojo comments, smirking and walking closer. "stop it, stop it right now!" you screeched, using your last chance to speak anything at all. gojo came closer, tying the handkerchief across the parting of your lips. only incoherent struggles and whines could escape you now.

"there we go, perfect little muzzled bitch." gojo chuckled, and you teared up at that statement, it was humiliating to have two men out here, having their way with you in the absence of your husbands. you hated the way it made you feel, how the proximity with geto was making your pelvis warm, and your insides... warm.

"she's crying... stop being so mean. maybe we can call satoru to help her? maybe he can coax and coddle her while we ruin her?" you widened your eyes at that insinuation, shaking your head no and muffled groans escaping you.

gojo chuckled, "aw, she wouldn't want that? why? scared they'd abandon you cause your insides changed shape to our cocks?" he smirked, "no worries sweetheart, we could hire you as our personal cocksleeve."

you glared at the man, not saying anything and saliva dribbling down your chin. "only if she's a good cocksleeve though" geto hums, shrugging. "don't get the special treatment if you're not good enough. or not tight enough."

"time to check!" gojo rubs his palms together, walking closer with eyes fucking you already. his hands are quick to rip off any clothing off of you, your cunt and your tits exposed to the two strangers and the cool air of the mansion.

it felt humiliating, all bare in front of two merciless, wolf like men who only want to ruin you. "would teach those two a lesson too, no?" geto mused and gojo nodded, "yeah, think they own the fuckin' world? now what? your wife knocked up by two strangers.."

"ruined, by two strangers." geto corrected gojo.

"ahhng- nn" you tried to manage to speak, unable to say anything coherent at all. only wiggling in resistance. you stop once you feel geto's semi nudge your ass though. this could do more harm than good.

"oh god she's grindin' already?" gojo smirked, walking closer and crossing his arms. "let's take her to the bedroom." they nodded, reaching that decision fast enough. when geto relents his hold on you, you're quick to hit his jaw with your head, feet landing aiming right at gojo's crotch. he holds your ankle and geto laughs, "couldn't even give me a nose-bleed, little one?"

you're the most terror-struck as you've ever been. you fucked up. pupils moving and heart racing. no way these two would let your silly little stunt go.

"she needs proper taming i'm telling you. like literally..." gojo laughs, almost looking impressed. "bend her over the couch."

"actually, i have a better plan" suguru muses, while your heart only gives out at the prospect of them discussing what to do with you. you hate how it's making you feel down there, and pretty sure they'd see that soon when your body betrays you.

gojo and geto only knowingly smile at each other, as if they were easily able to read the other's mind and they stride towards the bedroom. once you're placed on bed, this time gojo forces you on all fours, ignoring your whines and hand gripping your nape as he nails you to the bed. geto seems to be searching for toys you and your husbands indulge in from time to time.

he lets out an "aha!" when he finds them, smirking and taking out the clamps, the cuffs, the spreader, and the vibrator. your hands are cuffed behind your back and the spreader keeps your legs from closing. you are truly under their mercy now.

"mmgh mmf" you really wish you could do something, anything about it... "is that fucking cunt wet?" gojo is quick to dehumanize you for it, laughing. "don't tell me they've been pampering a slut as their wife?" it stings, his words sting and you close your eyes in disgust, a feeble attempt at closing your legs not gone unnoticed.

"why else would she be so embarrassed?" geto smirks. attaching the clamps to your nipples with some weights. satosugu have never tried the weights and the delicious tug on your tits only makes you whine more. he flicks the weights to let it jiggle like a pendulum and you cry out at the feeling. shuddering and whimpering at how your pussy clamps around nothing because of it.

"don't think this is enough, she needs proper punishment for trying to hit us." gojo scoffed, using the clamp right at your clit after testing it on his hand. you let out a surprised shriek, struggling with all your might against it, though you realize that would only worsen the ache in your tits. your pussy oozed out in your juices and fluttered as they bit your clit just right.

geto nods, slapping the fat of your bare ass with his hand, letting his handprint break out in a single hit. they really weren't playing around. every hit after that, makes you lurch forward, and makes the clamps wiggle and makes you cry out. gojo chuckles, watching your ass bruise with the spanking now. you lost count after ten, in your head, but you feel your mind float away, it's around 18 hits or so, that geto stops, when your whines and screams turn soft and dejected. when you give up.

you're so edged but the clamp on your clit wouldn't let you cum. "look at her, finally can't resist anymore?" he smirked, and upon not receiving a response, gojo tugs at your clit-clamp's chain a little. you cry out in pain, finally letting him remove the clamps altogether.

"yeah, finally someone's learnt how to behave." he smirked, and your whines turned into wheezing when the blood flow rushed back to your tits and clit, swathing you in a coughing fit as you choke on your spit. "oh jeez, calm down..." gojo scoffed, removing the gag from your mouth and watching the imprints of it on your face.

"you okay?" he's looking sympathetic and worried, and at the first chance of getting to speak again, you snap. "you're a fucking bastard with no manliness of your own, bet you don't even have a cock half as big as satoru"

he smirked again, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "the gag goes back on it seems." he looked at geto who shrugged, "no, let her scream when she realizes we're bigger and better than her husbands." before you could resist, you could feel the spread in your cunt lips from his fingers and the splitting apart sensation of his cock inside you.

crying out at the feeling, edged beyond belief, your cunt immediately hugs him down, his hand quick to un-do your cuffs and pulling you closer, letting your back collide against his chest as he drills your poor pussy apart, rutting without a single thread of restraint.

gojo only watches your breasts jiggle and jump at every thrust, leaning in and wrapping his warm mouth around the tortured, perked bud. his tongue languidly soothes over the bite mark of the clamp and he suckles, one hand pinching and kneading your tits to ensure the blood flow is back, the other rubbing circles at your clit. he undoes your spreader finally.

you moan like a whore indeed, this feels too good, you hate how good it feels and you despise how your senses are burning at this. the knot in your pelvis snaps and you gush all over geto's cock like a needy little girl, sending him reeling down also. you shake your head, the prospect of his warmth inside your cunt only makes you hate it further, "no- no no don't cum inside NO DON'T!" you cry out, shaking your head as his palm covers your mouth, muffling any cries as he churns your pussy by tucking and thrusting his load deeper.

you gasped and cried once geto finally comes to a halt. shoving you into a prone bone. "hey i'll take over, let her husbands discover a cum cocktail inside." gojo snickers, watching your body limping after the first orgasm as his cock shoves inside you easily, pistoning like a needy dog in a rut. the thrusts are powerful enough to feel like spanks of their own, and you only moan and whimper crudely; gritting your jaw at how amazing it feels and crumpling the mattress into your fists. this should not feel good... this should not feel this good. you're a cheater... your husbands would hate you.

"say what if they knew you had no problem cumming on our cocks?" geto chuckled watching you glance up at him teary eyed. "i hate this, i don't- AH" your sentences are reduced to moans already, and he chuckles.

the force on your tummy with the mattress nudged against it, and gojo's precise thrusts makes you twitch again. "uh uh... she's clamping again." he smirked at geto, "couldn't ask for permission from me, make sure she knows how to behave well now."

“we’ll just spank her swollen little clit this time around then” gojo smirked, and you widened your eyes in fear. your husbands long established that you only like it in a certain degree. these strangers knew nothing about you. you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “no- no- stop it.” before long, you we’re trying your best to squirm away from him, only getting locked in a headlock though, when gojo’s hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back.

“then ask for permission…” he laughs, only rutting deeper and more spitefully. your eyes are losing focus and you can sense your pelvis tightening, the familiar knot in your gut was about to snap again. “would rather fucking die!” you managed to put up a fight again, though your body betrays you again & you’re tipping off the edge. gojo’s timed thrusts against your gspot made you squirt a little. absolutely humiliating…

“oh oh not only did she came she fuckin’ squirted on another man’s cock? do you wanna be our hired cocksleeve that bad?” he muses, filling you up with his seed, his jaw muscles are tightened at the way your pussy takes him… while, you’re getting light headed with the headlock & the orgasm, eyes losing focus and mouth agape.

before your mind could register anything else, geto has you manhandled, holding your legs apart by hooking his arms under your knees and then holding your wrists as he gravely whispered, “told you to ask for permission, brat.”

“n- no no- no no no no no please please” you’re shaking your head, thrown off your post orgasm bliss instantly and shuddering, “no please please…”

“no please- please…” gojo mocks, slapping across your swollen cunt instantly. you cry out and wince, tearing up once again & reducing to weak sniffling. “no- no-” you resist and cry out.

he raises his hand again, feigning another hit and observing you flinch, close your eyes and look to the side, bracing. you look up when he doesn’t hit though…

“give me another orgasm on my cock since you’re so eager.” he hums, and your mind has just about had it. your body has had quite a ride filled with different emotions & a squirting orgasm. you shake your head no, biting my lip. “no.” you looked at gojo, and he raises a brow, “no?”

“no” you pouted, sniffling a little. “my husbands are coming soon, gonna kick your ass. they’ll kill you.”

“would they?” suguru hums, relenting his grip on your feet and your body, craddling you closer to him and leaning you against his chest, peppering your face with soft, tender kisses. you sniffle & nodded, “mm~ yeah…”

satoru sighs, pouting, “you okay? princess?” he’s shaking a little, hoping you don’t end up hating him. “you’re okay?” he asks again, pouty and looking like a kicked puppy. “i was so mouthy wasn’t i?” he’s about to spiral. “no it was so fun.” you snicker, looking at him with a huge grin. a huge wave of relief washes over his face as he pulls you from suguru, holding you plush and kissing all over your face, your lips, passionately running his hands through your hair.

“good girl, gosh you handled it so well.” he muses, suguru humming, kissing satoru’s forehead and yours. “my angel, you were so good you know that? we didn’t mean anything we said, you know that right?” he soothes over your ass. you nodded, “mm~ yeah, i know daddy.” you coo, kissing his cheek.

“good, good… fuck- never again!” satoru scoffs, pouting big and harsh. “i know he’d say that.” you chuckled and looked at suguru, who nodded, tight lipped. “uh… i second that.”

you nodded, you knew both of them were indulging only because you read a fanfiction of one of your favorite characters and wanted to try. “fine, fine… i’m the one who should behaved traumatized!” you chuckled, and they pout together.

“oh please i was about to break character so many times, i knew you would kick my ass so i didn’t.” suguru hums, nuzzling his nose against you. “OH YEAH SAME!” satoru dramatically yells, “when she coughed i was about to lose it oh gods no-”

“let’s take a shower…” you coax their conversation, kissing both their foreheads.

“alright…”

“i love you both.” you mumbled, loopy and so subby.

“we love you too!” they hummed together, kissing your cheek.

#jjk smut #jjk thirst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo thirst #geto smut #geto thirst #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satosugu #stsg x reader #poly stsg #poly satosugu x reader #poly stsg smut #poly stsg thirst #stsg thirst #stsg smut

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partycatty · 21 days

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Hiee! I love the way you write bi han. When i read new tricks i IMMEDIATELY ascended. The depression i got when i finished reading them was tragic…

Me thirsting: I really wanna make out wit that man, like… imagine a situation where all you do is stare at him and hope he telepathically gets what you wanna do, but he just ignores you cause he dunno know how to initiate that shit 💀 he just needs a little push per say! Maybe one day you decide enough is enough and you sit your happy ass right down on his lap and bat your lashes at him like a menace 💕

ps: i hope u don’t mind me yapping… ik cage is your man, i apologize 😔🙏🏾

bi-han > see me now

notes: i've noticed i've kinda diverted my attention to other mk boys lately... namely raiden, kuai liang, bi-han and liu kang... so this works perfectly for me...

[ masterlist ]

• bi-han was a common victim to your teasing, particularly because it would render him entirely speechless and still. for a man that tends to rant about glory and strength, you shut him up like nothing else.

• it was really hard to ignore the fact that you were super into each other, the air thick and tension high when you two were in each other's presence. his brothers would roll their eyes as their grandmaster stands dead-still, as if you had the ability to sense fear when you'd bat your eyelashes his way.

• he can't go to anyone for advice. what, he's gonna talk about his feelings? like a loser? no. real ninjas let emotions fester.

• which brings us to where we are now

• bi-han sat at his desk, physically straining himself to focus on the scroll in front of him when he sees your presence in the doorway. shit, he recognized your footsteps down the hall the moment you were in earshot.

• trying to act as if you weren't shitting your own pants at the thought of your plan, you plant your ass on his desk, sitting and dangling your feet from the wooden furniture with a singsong look about you.

• the silence is so thick is almost halts your breathing. his stone-cold face makes you wonder if this was a bad idea in hindsight, at least, until his lips part to speak.

• "what are you doing?" a simple question, really, but the answer was completely lost on you. thinking back, you didn't actually have a plan. what did you expect to happen? this is bi-han we're talking about.

• "sitting," you reply with your nose high, looking down at him like his question was idiotic.

• "on my desk?" another long silence hurts your ears as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "what do you want." his question sounded less like a question and more like an annoyed statement. then again, everything he says sounds annoyed.

• "what's your deal?" you ask your questions in such a light tone, bi-han feels more obligated to feel threatened. "do you like me or not?"

• clearly this isn't getting far. "what?"

• you huff and decide it was now or never. sliding from his desk, you saunter your way around and swing one leg over his thighs, then the other. his hands shoot out to support you, right on the plush skin of the outside of your thighs. bi-han's eyes are wide.

• "you see me now?" you try to sound triumphant past your nerves, looking up at the ninja through your lashes. "always so afraid to look at me. you're not subtle, grandmaster."

• forced to face you, his gruff words feel choked as they come out. "i don't—"

• "yes you do," you smile, albeit a little wickedly as you shift on his lap, making a cold breath slip past his lips.

• "what are you getting at?" he seems eager to end this, to cool his heated temperature.

• you hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck. "i want you to kiss me."

• "now?"

• you roll your eyes at his chipping resolve, tugging him in by the back of his head. both of your eyes wander across each other's expressions before bi-han hesitantly meets his lips with yours. as expected, they have a bit of a chill as he makes contact, but even still you feel him melt into the touch, gripping harder on your thighs to ground himself.

• you only get a moment to pull away and breathe, relishing in taking what you wanted from the hard ass grandmaster. the triumph is short lived when he thrusts his head back in, connecting his lips with yours with more fervor after successfully testing the waters.

• he's hungry, craving more of what he sampled after successfully tearing down this stupid barrier he put up. god, your taste drives him wild as his hands guide your hips along his, grinding with hard pressure.

• it becomes open-mouthed and messy rather quickly, bi-han's hands wandering up from your thighs to your waist, the touch making you shiver and gasp as he uses the opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth, completely absorbing every whimper you give.

• your hands snake into his hair, deepening the kiss when you snag a fistful of his dark locks, and he groans into your mouth just as the tie falls loose. strands litter his face and swirl about, you hadn't even noticed they were wavy from how often he keeps his hair up.

• the want for more is overpowered by your critical thinking skills. "weren't you busy?"

• bi-han shakes his head slightly, jumping up from his chair and bringing you with him. instinctively, your thighs clasp around his middle, holding his shoulders as he shamelessly uses your ass to hold you up. you're slid onto the desk as various items clatter and fall to the floor, his hard body fitting perfectly between your legs as he reaches forward to kiss you again, chasing your lips when you pull away.

• "it can wait."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han smut #marley writes ☆

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jamilelucato · 2 months

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The Writer and The Illustrator (Part 01)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Miss [y/n] Summary: Miss [y/n] is not your average young lady, for she is also W. Jabber, a talented writer who challenges societal norms. All was well until her publisher presented her with a new challenge—to write a children's book disguised for adult readers and to have it illustrated. And to help her with the task, she knows only one good painter in London. Age rating: although this chapter is pretty chill for younger audiences, the next parts will have more explicit scenes, so let's keep it 18+. Author's note: I said I'd be back with the Bridgerton boys, and here I am! Benedict, for the win! Hope you guys like it! (Part 02 here!) To read Anthony's fic, click here! For other stories, click here. Enjoy! Miss [y/n] was a writer. A good one, she dared add. Of course, that was unnoticed by the people of the ton, who would not have appreciated female writing, even if it was that great.

For that precise reason, Miss [y/n] prospered in a secret double life, where she was a pleasant lady by day and a fierce author by night. Her publisher was the only man she considered a friend since he knew her true identity and was present in both parts of her life. Needless to say, such an intelligent and refined man, capable of admiring penmanship made by a woman, would already have a wife. And would be dangerously too old to be anything more than an extra father figure in Miss [y/n] 's history.

Being close and such, Mister Brendy often challenged [y/n] 's writing abilities, encouraging her to try new styles in every new book. He'd often advise her towards writing the genre most wanted by the public at that specific time, and [y/n] was always quick to agree — as she held Mr Brendy's opinions very highly. Also, her family desperately needed the money [y/n] provided anonymously. Pretending it was a subsidy presented by an old aunt from the country, the young woman allowed her family some great comfort; furthermore, she permitted herself the luxury of new dresses every season.

"Good afternoon, Mr Brendy. How are you this evening?"

The sky wasn't fully dark when Miss [y/n] popped into the tiny printer's shop, but she was confident enough that nobody followed her in; thus, she modelled no cape or undistinguished clothing. She was merely herself before her old chum and a couple more teen-boy workers.

"Very well, dear," the printer replied, holding a modest smile. Mr Brendy had gently round features, and his smile, even the smallest ones, was exceptionally pleasant to witness. "Hope you're ready to hear your next challenge."

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't, Mr Brendy," she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers over his table, looking for clues to his oncoming request. Most authors did not enjoy working with demands, but [y/n] thrived with them, and she was Mr Brendy's favourite because of it.

"Well, have you how many nephews and nieces again? I always forget; I'm sorry," Mr Brendy got up and walked towards Miss [y/n]'s chair.

"No need to be sorry, Mr Brendy — I, sometimes, forget as well," she smiled. "I currently have three nephews and one baby niece. She's such a lovely newborn!"

The gentleman placed his hands in his trouser pockets, scratching his throat before saying, "Yes, newborns are usually a delight—a blessing."

"Couldn't agree more," Miss [y/n] couldn't help her anxiety taking the best of herself. "But what does my siblings' offspring have to do with my upcoming, in need of writing, book?"

After another scratch of his throat, Mr Brendy finally spoke his true intentions. "Do you remember when you found me shivering from the rain outside and asked if I could publish your first book? And even cold, you managed to make all these demands regarding our partnership?"

"Of course, I remember! I was a baby lassie of fifteen years of age, but wasn't I a captivating writer even then?" Miss [y/n] was only joking but noticed that Mr Brendy wasn't less tense. "Does this talk have something to do with my demands? Do you need to lower my percentage of profit?"

Dear God, she hoped not.

"Nothing of such. Your books are bestsellers, Miss [y/n]. Money is not the problem," he said. "However, your other contract demand... The one where you work alone..."

"Yes?" she was desperately nervous.

"Would you be able to make an exception?"

There was silence in the room. It felt like even the employees outside the tiny office were muted, waiting for her answer.

"I'm sorry, Mr Brendy, but what are you implying? You want me to write in association with another author, is that it?"

"Not another author per se," he gritted his teeth, and the noise startled Miss [y/n]. "No," he restarted, "I don't want your writing to get jumbled up. You have a magnetic way of putting words to paper; I would never allow anyone else to interfere with that."

"Thank you," she said, happy for the compliment, though confused about how to respond. Mr Brendy was a good man, but he rarely presented free praise.

"I want you to work partnered with a painter, an illustrator. See, this is where your nephews come to action — children's books are the latest fashion, the genre bestseller of the hour. We have no author good enough to conquer that style the way we want," he paused, "— at least no better writer than you."

She was flattered but primarily confused. Her books weren't for children. Under the name of W. Jabber, she published pieces about politics and devotion, death and art, but all of that over a darker tone, very adult if you dare. What would be her place when speaking to children? What story could she have stored to tell those little kids rushing to a bookshop, looking for the newest realise?

"I want you to write a children's story the way only you could — designed for the parents. I want it perfectly disguised so that, when a parent fetches the book — tediously and only doing it for the quietness of their offspring — they get stunned to find out the narrative is very well made for them as much as the child."

"You reckon I could write such a thing?" she asked in a second of bravery. "I don't think I can."

"Upon rereading your latest, my dear, I discovered that if anyone can, it is you," he said. "When I first read Storms of Love, I could never have deduced the novel was about the Priest falling in love with his bastard son. At first glance, the story felt like a mother missing her son when he decided to go to seminary!"

She pressed her lips together, feeling shy. It was a horrible habit, as the lady knew she looked dreadful when she did it, but she couldn't help it. How many times, during balls, did she have to hear people praising her without knowing that Jabber was [y/n]?

"Again, thank you, Mr Brendy. You know I adore compliments," Miss [y/n] tried to smile, but she couldn't disguise her dismay. "Regardless, I…"

"I would never force you, Miss [y/n]!" the printer rushed closer to her, taking the liberty of placing a hand on her covered shoulder. "But before you say anything, know that the illustrator would be one of your selections, and we could do the whole interaction anonymously if you so desire."

"It's not the teamwork that unnerves me, Mr Brendy, but the writing of a children's book for adults." Miss [y/n] stared deep into Mr Brendy's eyes, but that was a wrong choice. His big, green eyes stared at her back, filled with hope for her to accept. How could she say no to the older man who knew her more than her father?

She placed her hand over his on her shoulder before saying, "Do you truly believe I am the best option for this chef-d'oeuvre? It takes courage to defy society with a youngsters' novel."

He smiled in that way only a proud grandparent could. "Yes, I believe you can."

After the conversation with Mr Brendy, Miss [y/n] at least managed to secure the illustrator would be her pick and not be some random person chosen by the printer.

That was exceptionally tricky, however. [y/n] did not know a bunch of painters — at least not enough that were indeed talented for her intentions or kind souls that would not reveal her identity. She did not want to be Lady Whistledown's next victim.

Miss [y/n] came up with one name and one name only. It was the only name not crossed from her list made in the dim candlelight of past midnight.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Thorny indeed. Could she trust him?

She and her parents had been friends with the Bridgerton family for years now, and Francesca was what [y/n] could call her best long-distance friend, but how far did she know Benedict?

He was a second son, which did not help his reputation, but there was no denying he was a gentleman and a remarkable artist. They used to play together at Aubrey Hall when they were both too young to feel ashamed.

Benedict was her friend, at least as far as being friends with a man could go for a single lady.

Subsequently, Miss [y/n] waited for the promised ball Lady Danbury would throw for the people of the ton, anxious to see if Benedict would say yes to her proposition and not tell anyone her little secret.

"Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]," said Lady Danbury, appearing out of thin air beside the young lady, "you look nervous. What for, my dear?"

[y/n] swallowed hard. "Do I? I suppose I could look like that, but I promise I'm fine as a horse."

"If that horse is about to go racing," said the old lady sharply. "Seriously, sweetie, entertain me. I fear this is the first ball I throw where nothing good happens. It starts to hurt this hostess's feelings, you know."

"Lady Danbury, well, if you must know…." [y/n] was certainly not about to tell her the real reason beyond her nervous appearance. Lady Danbury was a lady of gossip, and that was the last thing [y/n] needed. "My mama, just yesterday…" started [y/n], but she never managed to finish her lie because Lady Danbury interrupted her with a yell.

"Mister Bridgerton!"

Oh, Christ. [y/n] felt like she was all wet with sweat. What were the odds?

"Mister Bridgerton!" shouted the old lady again, this time prolonging the last name of the gentleman walking by.

"You know, Lady Danbury, I'm not obliged to answer since there are three 'Mister Bridgerton' alive at the moment," said Benedict, stopping closer with a grin. "Two of them are at this party right at this moment."

Lady Danbury hit him with her cane, and the gentleman pretended to feel pain beyond what he must have felt. "Very funny, Mr Bridgerton, but we both know one of them isn't even old enough to be called mister."

"Yes indeed; Colin is a not fully formed child, but I rather only Bridgertons talk about that," he joked.

Only when his giggle ceased did the tallest Bridgerton siblings notice Miss [y/n]'s presence. It was a bit embarrassing for her, as she was staring at him laughing and how magnificent he looked — so relaxed that his hair moved with the movement of his chest. She had to tilt her head quite a lot to face him, so there was no covering her gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. I did not see you there."

"Clearly," Lady Danbury whispered in her condescending tone, making her sound like a teenager.

"Good evening, Mr Bridgerton," Miss [y/n] said, ignoring Lady Danbury's comment and smiling at the gentleman before her. She had been looking for him after all.

"And now you two have been officially introduced," said Lady Danbury surly, allowing no interruptions. "Can I finally talk to you, Mr Bridgerton, about what I wanted?"

"You, calling upon me, had a reason!" said the Bridgerton man at the same time Miss [y/n] burst: "We knew each other already!"

"Oh, all right," Lady Danbury sighed, defeated. Benedict and [y/n] smiled, feeling victorious — but Benedict's smile was broader. "Mr Bridgerton, I insist on talking to you as I'm sure you must be anxious to meet my niece."

"Your niece?" he echoed.

"Yes, the one coming from Chester," continued the old lady. "Winnie Danbury. You had heard about her coming, yes?"

Lady Danbury's eyes seemed challenging as if asking for one of them to deny her tellings, as [y/n] was sure no one mentioned Miss Winnie before. However, they both stayed silent, agreeing with a head shake.

"Miss Winnie Danbury," said [y/n], testing the name, "is it her first time here in London?"

Lady Danbury moved her body to face Miss [y/n] as she had partially forgotten about the girl's presence. [y/n] was a charm; the old lady had only good things to say about her, but sometimes the Miss would rather stay in a corner barely lit, which infuriated Lady Danbury. Miss [y/n] was a beauty; she needed to be seen more often — even if society didn't agree with the elderly lady.

"Yes, it is," replied the aunt. "Oh, she's beautiful, Mr Bridgerton. And so talented! Did you know she plays five different instruments?"

Of course she does, [y/n] thought, sighing to herself. The anonymous writer dreamed of playing an instrument or, at least, being able to draw. She'd like to have another artistic talent besides writing. It was well viewed when a woman played wonderfully and even painted; it all did better than writers. Writing for a woman was like talking to the devil; her great-uncle had told her once when she'd suggested she had some talent for it.

"Lady Danbury, it will, undoubtedly, be a pleasure to meet another member of your family," said the gentleman.

"Especially if she's like you," whispered [y/n], afraid her tone sounded too provocative for the old lady's ears.

"But," continued Benedict, pretending not to have heard the young woman's comment, although the left corner of his mouth indicated otherwise, "is there any reason you should be offering your niece to me?"

"Why, yes! You are the oldest Bridgerton bachelor at the moment," said Lady Danbury and turned to Miss [y/n] before restarting, "and it would be a lovely match, wouldn't it?"

[y/n] had no reason to disagree.

"Of course. A Danbury with a Bridgerton, the missing couple in London."

Lady Danbury smiled as if she knew more than those young fools, and touching Benedict with her cane, she began to depart.

"I'll leave you alone, as I feel that my mission here is already complete."

"Oh no, please," Benedict pronounced sarcastically, "stay and tell us more about Miss Winnie."

But Lady Danbury had already turned away and walked away from the two of them, focusing her attention on Penelope Featherington, who was creeping through the room, trying hard not to be noticed.

Mr Bridgerton looked immediately unnerved by the noble lady's departure as if he didn't know what to say to Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. And he didn't.

The two had known each other for a while and were even good friends, but she remained an unmarried woman in the presence of an unmarried man, and alone, the two seldom exchanged words. They were sharp when doubled against another Bridgerton or one of her brothers, but Benedict had always seen her as just one of the women of the ton.

She had her appeal, a magnificence in disguise. For example, she didn't take anyone's breath away but wasn't ugly to look at. In addition, she had more prominent curves than other women, a virtue when it came to her cleavage but a flaw when considering her corset region.

Benedict never judged her for that. On the contrary, he liked knowing she had something he could hold onto.

No.

He didn't like it.

Why exactly am I thinking about Miss [y/n]'s curves? The gentleman chastised himself. Forget it before you say something foolish!

Miss [y/n] noticed the dreadful hush and decided to speak first since she had something to say.

"Mr Bridgerton, I... I'd like to have a word with you," she felt her cheeks flush with nervousness. "In a less... crowded place."

Benedict gulped. So he spoke aloud. Bollocks.

"I have a business proposition. Perhaps it will interest you," she resumed, relieving Benedict immediately. "You still paint, yes?"

"Yes," he replied overly quickly.

"And you draw?"

"Well, yes." The gentleman stopped talking to reminisce. Would she like a portrait? Strange. No one hired painters during balls, and never, ever should a single lady ask a gentleman for a painting (at least not if she wasn't interested in the man himself).

Does she have an interest unrevealed? He thought but renounced the idea. It was [y/n] who stood before him. The same girl who played in the mud and one day made fun of him for having such fragile hands.

She had no interest in Benedict other than his artistic gifts.

"Need a painting, Miss?"

"Not precisely…" She looked nervous. "Can you pace with me to the refreshment table?" she asked, walking over to it before hearing him nod. It was the least guarded place in the salon at that moment.

He followed her, for he was too curious to drop it.

"How would you feel…" she started saying after analysing their surround "if it was offered to you a chance to illustrate a book?"

"A book?" he echoed, a bit too loud.

[y/n] waited a bit before continuing.

"A children's book, but adults can deeply interpret it."

"That's rather specific," he pointed out. So what was the meaning of all that? How was [y/n] in any power to offer him such a proposition?

"Mr Bridgerton, I simply want to know if you could be interested. If you are not, then I'll never mention it again," she said, her voice slightly shaky, even though she was playing chilliness.

Benedict took a step further, thinking she was out of her mind and only his closeness could bring her to her senses. "How can you do me such an offer, Miss? As I recall, your father is not in the editing, writing and printing business."

She closed her eyes tight, not believing she was about to confess to Benedict Bridgerton.

"But I am."

"Yeah, right," snorted the Bridgerton gentleman, crossing his arms in front of his chest. But [y/n] stayed utterly silent; she didn't dare utter a word, and Benedict could not stare at her big, closed eyes for that long without wondering: who was she? He was momentarily sure he didn't know. "[y/n]?" he called her, daring, in a whisper, to utter her first name.

[y/n] opened her eyes, surprised that Benedict had used her first name. She had always thought of him as Mr. Bridgerton, the handsome and charming gentleman whom society's most eligible ladies always surrounded. But now, she was asking him for help and needed to trust him with her secret.

"Yes, it's true," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm W. Jabber, the author of several books. I published under a male pseudonym."

Benedict was stunned. He had heard of W. Jabber's work and greatly admired "his" writing. He had no idea that the author was Miss [y/l/n], the girl he had known since childhood. He looked at her, seeing her in a new light. She was not just the girl who played in the mud; she was a talented writer who broke society's rules to pursue her passion.

"I had no idea," he said, his voice full of awe.

"I know," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's not something I can share with many people."

"And you want me to illustrate your next book?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his childhood friend was a published author.

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I've been working on a new book, and I think your illustrations would be perfect for it."

Benedict smiled, feeling honoured that she had asked him. "I'd love to help you," he said. "But how will we do it in secret? We can't let anyone know."

"I have a plan," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Meet me tomorrow at the park, and I'll tell you all about it."

Benedict nodded, feeling a sense of excitement at the thought of working with [y/n] on a secret project. He had always admired her intelligence and wit, but now he saw a new side that intrigued him even more.

As they returned to the salon, Benedict couldn't help but wonder what other secrets Miss [y/n] [y/l/n] was hiding. But for now, he was content to focus on their new project, a collaboration that would push the boundaries of society and showcase their talents in a way that no one else could.

#benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x yn #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton #polin #lady danburry

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m-ayo-o · 4 months

Text

i t s ⋆ w r i t t e n ⋆ i n ⋆ t h e ⋆ s t a r s ⋆

zodiac event : reader x 21+ CAPRICORN MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ♑︎ genre : fluff, discussing horoscopes note : this one isn't reader oriented but the rest hopefully will be a little :3 thank u for sending rqs + waiting! wc : 1k

“Megumiiii~?”

You call his name while he sits snugly on a comfy chair in your living room. He doesn't even look up from his book to grunt his reply- he already knows you're A, going to ask for a favour or B, say something kind of dumb.

“Mm?”

You sit between his legs, draping your arms over his knees, waiting to see if he'll even put his book down.

“Do you know your star sign?”

There's a little pause– his eyes shift from side to side.

“No”

“Well, I thought it could be fun… to look at ours together?”

He graces you with a mild Fushiguro glare, followed by a slight eyebrow raise.

“Did you?”

You get a little huff now, like you're interrupting him unnecessarily.

With a little coaxing, and promising that it won't take too long, you're kneeling on the carpet between his legs with your astrology book spread open.

You flick through the pages, showing him all the mystical signs, their associated creatures and enchanting descriptions.

It's safe to say that he is showing very little interest in the information thus far– you look up at him now and then to witness that vacant stare, as if he's busy plotting how he'll make you pay for wasting his time.

Then you find the page you're looking for, opening the book wide to show him the mythical sea goat that you're getting quite excited about. It is pretty cute.

“Capricorn!! This is you, Megumi!”

You beam, now sitting up to clamber onto his lap. He invites you in, circling his arms around your waist with the book propped on your knees so you can both see.

All the diagrams and charts are just so interesting and magical to you.

“And what do Capricorns do?”

He indulges you, holding you close, seemingly enjoying the heat from your body more than anything else.

“So,” you start reading through, finding a section listing the traits of the sign, “they're dedicated, hard working, logical…”

Of course, none of this is news to you.

“Intense,” you give him a coy smile, which earns you an eye roll. Not even a little smile.

“Stubborn,” you nod, insisting that he look at the page, as if for proof.

You skim to a section listing their worst traits, tracing your index finger over the words.

“Unimaginative,” your eyes shift to his after each addition, “critical–” you pause, feeling a little hesitant to say this last one, “unemotional.”

You know he really does put in a marked effort to show you how he's feeling. Telling you is another matter entirely. But you have learned, through his actions you can read him. It was slow, and you have disagreements, sure, but you're gradually coming to understand each other's language.

His glaring has got a bit more intense than earlier, black brows starting to arch into a frown.

“Don't you think that's enough about Capricorns?”

“No, no–” he tries to take the book from you but you're intent on finishing his page, “we didn't get to the best part!!”

“And what might that be?”

He releases the book again after you give him your best pouty face that makes him all soft.

“Capricorns in love”

“But I already know–”

You give him a peck on the cheek, which makes him melt a little more. He sighs deeply and lets you continue.

You skim to the section that specifically refers to Capricorn men in romantic relationships.

“When he dates– he– seeks a– mate!!”

You read aloud parts that make you giggle.

“He can be shy, but incredibly romantic~” you hum with pleasure, knowing this to be completely true.

And you come to a section that makes you blush and pause for a moment. He tilts his head away from your neck and peers down at the book.

“What's the matter, you want me to read this bit?”

“Um–” it's got you flustered.

“Capricorn men have strong sexual stamina.”

You can't deny it.

You see a little smile tug at his lips. You think he might like this part. He reads the rest aloud, telling you all about the sensual and passionate love making tendencies of his sign, and by the time he's done your face is pink from the bridge of your nose to the tip of your ears.

“What do you think?”

He whispers into the shell of your ear, being overly seductive on purpose just to wind you up.

“You think that's right?”

He sucks on your earlobe and places a few warm kisses on your neck. He swears you're about to burst into flames, or melt into some kind of fiery magma, with how hot you're getting.

“Y-yes- I knew that anyway–”

“That's what I was telling you, sweetheart. This book is a waste of time–”

He slips it out of your hands and closes it, carefully placing it on the coffee table.

He turns back to you with a little smile, bringing his lips to yours and slowly showing you all of those deep and romantic behaviours you were just reading about. Everything he does for you shows you that, without a doubt, he is utterly infatuated. And, he may not say it right now, but he's willing to take this all the way. He sees a future with you.

But you're happy with the unwavering support, the protection, how you can rely on him, and how open he's become with you. It makes you feel so lucky that you get to see so many sides of him, and you swear you'll never take it for granted.

You're happy that you can trust every word that he speaks.

And when he tells you he loves you, you know he means it.

megumi | m.list | zodiac event

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #it's written in the stars #zodiac event #zodiac signs #horoscopes #capricorn sign

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unidentified-ending · 7 months

Note

What's up bro! I was just wondering weather you could make a little oneshot-headcanon about a male student in aizawas class who's younger brother (age 4-5) is quite dangerous due to his quirk but he's never done anything and he's been declined from multiple daycares and his parents are super stressed but Aizawa ends up taking the male reader younger brother to U.A's daycare and everyone in the dorms loves him bc he's so cute.

Thanks man, have a good day!!!!!

A/N: of course bro, this request is so cute so buckle up for some fluffy, maybe ooc aizawa and a cute younger brother.

This can be read as a trans or cis dude but if trans js imagine you got top surgery at a young age (not that young tho!). It's not mentioned anyways

Your parents were stressed. Like stressed stressed.

Your younger brother with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes was boping around in your living room.

His name was Kuragari and he could destroy all of reality in one clap of his hand

But it's never happened before, but most people stay away from the cute ball of happiness.

When he was a child (2-3), everyone would stay away from him but he had you

Y/n L/n, a (personality trait) boy who was in class 1a, UA. Aspiring hero, and the best brother anyone could ask for.

Anyways back to the point.

Your parents were stressed, Kuragari's power was getting in the way of his daycare applications.

He was dangerous and so nobody came near him bc of "the sake of the other children"

And your parents both worked and you went to school so it was a hell of a time trying to do something for him

He'd usually get a baby sitter but he'd cry a couple of hours in, begging for you and his parents.

Which made either you, your mother or father come home from work early and have to settle him down

But that when the offer of you life came true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n" you hear a faint voice call for you.

"Y/n!" The same voice but louder said again.

"Y/N!" The person said and you shot up straight away, the redness in your eyes and the bags under them were a huge sign of no sleep.

You looked around, you were in your classroom but nobody was in there, just your homeroom teacher calling out for you.

"Yes sir! I'm up, I'm up." You exclaimed into the empty room, your brother had woken up crying at exactly 2:27 am yesterday night and your parents wouldn't wake up so you had to deal with Kuragari by yourself and that lasted duntil 4:16 am when he decided to sleep. And you knew you had to wake up at 7 tomorrow so only 3 hours of sleep didn't toll well on your body.

"It's break, why are you still sleeping?" Aizawa questioned, though not making any visable facial expressions.

"I-uh, I just didn't get enough sleep. I'm okay" You said, blinking in drowsiness

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and said "Are you sure? Is there something I need to know?"

"Nah, not really. It's just my younger brother Kuragari. He's been declined by so many daycares' bescuse his quirk is too dangerous for the daycare but hes never actually used it before." You explain and Aizawa listens intently.

"He can break reality in one clap of his hands but he's so cute, he's 5 this year and me, my mother and my father have been extremely stressed about this issue because nobody can baby sit him for more then five hours before he starts to throw a fit and cry. And we have to take care of him at night and its very tiring."

Aizawa listened to your story all the way through and at the end he said, "How about we take him and we can take care of him? It's up to your parents though." Your eyes glimmered at the idea and you told him you'd ask them this evening.

That evening~~~~

"Mum, Dad. I've got news! Sensei Aizawa said he's take in Kuragari into the U.A daycare! Only if you want." You exclaimed when you got into the house and ran straight into your living room.

"Wait what?" Your father said, a hint of surprisment in his voice. "Really?" You mother said, a huge smile growing on her face.

"Yes!" You shouted with picking up your little brother and he immediately started laughing and clapping his hands together in excitement even though he had no idea what you were talking about.

A few hours later

"So what do we need to do to get Kuragari in there?" Your mother said while feeding him some food.

"Nothing, we just have to bring him in tomorrow and they take him in, look after him and there is another sweet girl called Eri in there. She's so sweet and I think they would get along together."

"Are you sure about this, honey?" Your father said to your mother

"It's a opportunity we must take. For the sake of our sleep" Your mother yawned.

Your father nodded on agreement.

"Alright then, but it's your responsibility to dress and wash him in the morning because we have work tomorrow. Fair?" Your father asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Fair" you agreed while picking up Kuragari and placing him on the couch and turning on some baby shows.

The next morning~~~~~~

You looked at a snoozing Kuragari at 6:50 am. You knew he was gonna throw a fit about waking this early but he had to get up.

You picked up the snoozing boy and cradled him in your hands, gently rubbing your finger over his forehead to wake him.

He started to fidget in your hands and kick his legs about. That's when he opened his ayes and started wailing.

"Shh, shh it's okay. I need you to wake up for me." You say as you kissed his head and put him in his baby chair.

You made his baby breakfast and ate your own, he was still glaring at you for waking him up early.

After that, you ran a bath for the two of you while he played with some of his toys.

"Kuragari." You exclaimed and he came crawling over to the bathroom with a toy car in his hand.

You undressed him and put him in the bath and you also got in. He flapped around with his bath toys in the bath, accidentally hitting you with some bubbles.

"You silly child" you sighed before taking him out and dressing him in some new clothes.

"Alright lil bro, I'm gonna carry you to school today. So climb on my back." You said while taking your keys and unlocking your front door.

You crouched down do he could climb on your back and he crawled up your back and seated himself right on your shoulders.

Off you two go to school~~~

Surprisingly you were the only two there in your class. Mean class did start at 8:20 and you two got there at 7:59 so it was pretty early.

You went to sit at your desk and then you took your brother off your head and placed him on your desk, then placed your own head on the desk, hoping for some of your own sleep.

Your promised it would 5 minutes but 5 minutes turned into 15.

Your self-consciousness was telling you to get awake and that's when you shot up awake, immediately in search for you younger brother.

"Kuragari" you said, your eyes darted across the room but all you could see were your fellow classmates crowded around something..or someone.

"Where's my brother?" You said in panic and the whole class looked at you in surprise.

"You mean this bundle of joy" Denki said as he held your smiling and laughing brother in his hands.

Your face immediately relaxed, you hadn't lost him.

"I'm so sorry guys-" you started but Mina interrupted.

"There no need to be sorry he's so cute!" She said while the rest if the class agreed with him. You went to join the classmates of yours and when he saw you he did his signature grabby hands and you picked him up.

"Bakugo saw you sleeping when he came in then me spotted your brother on his desk. He carefully just put him back on your desk and sat down."

Bakugo tsked at his desk but didn't deny it.

"What's he even doing here anyways?" Sero says as he laughs with Kuragari.

"Oh it's a long story, so-" then a door slammed open and Aizawa walked in.

"What is going here?" He questioned and everyone moved out the way of Kuragari and Aizawa had one look at the child and back at you and he knew you two were siblings.

Kuragari on the other hand started to cry at the old grizzled man and immediately started to grab onto Deku's shirt.

"Sorry man, he's a bit grumpy. I'll take him out." You say to deku and he waves it off completely fine.

When you walk out of the room, Aizawa walked out as well.

"Sorry sensei, he's just-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. Let's just get him in the daycare and we can start lessons" Aizawa said and the two of you walked to the daycare in silence.

You dropped him off to the daycare in silence where he met Eri and they got along together.

The two of you walked back together to class in silence before Aizawa said. "He looks like you".

"Really?" You say, surprised at the comment.

"Yeah, I bet he's a hard one to deal with."

"Oh he is" you say, enjoying the small talk.

"I can see where he gets it from" he says and you accidentally let out a chuckle.

You knew you had a good teacher.

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tieronecrush · 6 months

Text

hot & heavy

epilogue: our love is going gold

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 17.2k (but she's done. like done, done.)

warnings (**SPOLIERS**): NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is now 10 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), established relationship, engagement, marriage, alcohol, eating, very lovey romantic, polite southern manners, spanish/spanglish cause joel is latino, soft joel, domestic joel, WIFE!! GUY!! JOEL!!, discussion of parenting, step-parenting, struggles with conceiving, negative self talk and image, smut, soft dom joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel worships the ground his wife walks on and also her body, praise, unprotected p in v (they're tryna get pregnant, not you!), breeding kink, sort of nursing kink? joel is briefly obsessed with your tits and makes comments, mating press, a flash of cumplay, the BRIEFEST mention of daddy kink, joel really wants to give his wife a baby, pregnancy, a mention of giving birth, girl dad joel, CUTE FAMILY!!!

also this is the song mentioned <3 it's a fave of mine and i think very joel & mari

a/n: this has been a doozy but happy to hand this over to y'all. this is simply what i envisioned for their future, and if you had different thoughts, i would love to hear them! <3 or if you have any headcanons for their life beyond this, drop them in my inbox! this fic and these characters are my children and i love them very much. will probably keep them alive somehow. and thank you to everyone who's read this series, you are all so special to me and have sincerely made me feel so much more confident in my writing!

as always, thank you thank you thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing, couldn't do it without you! and this extremely long ending is dedicated to el and kiwi @kiwisbell you are my hype people fr

i feel like i need to say like signing off on h&h now lol so this is me doing that & closing the book!

** this is set over three additional summers post-main story **

first of many

After the holidays, it was an easy decision to move in with Joel and Sarah. The Millers had joined your family for their annual, lowkey celebrations; spending Christmas Eve with Joel and Sarah, it was a treat to witness him playing Santa after Sarah had gone to bed. Only a few curses under his breath putting together the new dollhouse she’d requested from St Nick, the other presents from her father, and your gifts to her carefully wrapped under the tree. The two of you split the plate of cookies while watching A Christmas Story, you and Joel taking turns mumbling the words to the iconic scenes under your breaths.

The next morning, your heart was overwhelmed with the love that you hold for this family that has welcomed you in and made you a part of it. Sarah gifted you a photo frame that she’d made at school, painted with flowers and butterflies, and a photo of the three of you from the trip to the apple orchard you’d taken that fall. Once Sarah was occupied with her new treasures, gifts were exchanged between you and Joel. Requesting to gift first, you stand up from the couch and tiptoe around Sarah and her new dolls sprawled across the floor to the front hall closet and retrieve a brand new, custom acoustic guitar.

Sitting back with him, guitar placed into his hands and his eyes combing over it, his lips part with a gasping breath when he notices in the inlay of ‘SME’ for his daughter’s name, Sarah Elena.

“The old one in the corner of your room was lookin’ a little worse for wear, and I hadn’t seen you play it in a while…” you trail off in the silence, waiting for his response, “Do you—do you like it? Is it the right kind? I tried to match it the best I could to the one upstairs.”

“Oh, Mari baby, I love it. It’s beautiful, thank you so much…” He shakes his head, taking another sighing exhale in appreciation as he turns it in his hands. “Hadn’t played the other one 'cause it wasn’t quite playable anymore. Restrung it a few too many times, the wood was warped from some water damage. The perils of having a toddler around years ago. This is…it’s perfect, Mariposa.”

You beam, shifting in your seat and anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Joel sets the instrument down next to him carefully, turning back to you. He leans in, kissing you delicately and whispering another ‘thank you’ against your lips, “Guess m’gonna have to serenade you now.”

“Oh, yeah, J. I expect one nightly,” you playfully respond, kissing him again before he pulls away, his turn to stand from his place on the couch.

He wanders over to the tree, plucking the last wrapped gift from under it, and returning to sit next to you. Handing over the small rectangular box, you unwrap it gingerly, glancing at Joel’s knee bouncing. You gently set your hand on it, smiling at him which he returns, biting his lip to channel his jittery energy. Opening the box, you’re met with the shining gold links of a beautiful charm bracelet. Your eyes wander over the small icons, feeling your chest tighten with love as you take them all in: A small ‘S’ with a ruby-colored stone at each end of the curve, a matching ‘J’ with a sapphire embedded into it right next to the ‘S; there’s a tiny gold key, nearly identical to the one he had given to you those three summers before for your job that started it all; a tiny set of longhorn antlers that is reminiscent of home; a lighthouse that reminds you of one you visited while living in Boston, a day you had documented and sent Joel some of the photos in the mail to recap your time. It was a day you had been happy there, and it made your heart ache that he remembered that. The last charm on the bracelet is a butterfly, bejeweled with kelly green stones, the color of the leaves that you told him were your favorite years ago. The ache in your chest is worked out of its knot with Joel’s hand at your back, a gasping breath as you blink back tears.

Clearing your throat, your watery smile has a flash of worry crossing his eyes before you hand him the bracelet you’ve taken out of the box, lightly requesting, “Will you put it on for me?”

Joel nods shyly, taking the dainty piece in his hands, and hooking the clasp around your wrist after a few tries. You both admire it, your smile growing wider and his matching yours.

“Merry Christmas, Mari baby. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, J. I love you, too.”

Now, months later, the bracelet on your wrist glints in the sun as you hold onto Sarah’s hand, letting her lead you around the atrium filled with butterflies. Spending the day at the same farm you three had visited summers ago, and had kept up with the tradition with the summers following, you picked an abundance of strawberries, wandered through the nature paths, and now ending the day at the youngest Miller’s favorite spot.

Sarah wildly points out the different types of butterflies, the encyclopedia book of the insect’s species that you had gifted her for Christmas coming in handy for today as she reads the small signs of each patterned, winged creature, adding in her tidbits that she remembers. A grin stays plastered on your face as you listen intently, paying no mind to Joel trailing behind the two of you.

Giving your lessons on the flora that you know of in the gardens, Sarah listens to you as well. Stopping in front of the small waterfall, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, the two of you go back and forth in fun facts about plants and butterflies, unaware as Joel saddles up behind you. Sarah glances back over her shoulder and grins, the expression reading as knowing and mischievous. Before turning around, you start to warn Joel behind you playfully, “J, if you’re even thinking about pushing me or splashing me, I will ki—”

Your breath catches when you finally face him, eyes dropping to meet his; the backpack he’d be adamant about carrying all day is at his feet, unzipped, and in his hands is a small, forest-green velvet box. Joel rests on one knee, a soft but bright, devoted smile on his face.

“Oh my god…” It comes from your lips as a whisper, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other continues to tether you to Sarah at your side, her small giggle hitting your ears as Joel glances at her, sending her a wink.

Eyes back on your face, Joel clears his throat, adjusting himself on his knee as he takes a deep breath, “I have been trying to figure out exactly what to say, and I can’t seem to find quite the right words that tell you exactly how I feel about you. I love you, so much, Mariposa. The second you entered my life, that time I saw you for only seconds in your backyard while I was touring the house, I knew I had to meet you. And then the first time I met you, well, I knew that you were who I needed.

“I’ve been walking around blind, trying to figure out life for years, and moving next door to you, that was the last piece falling into place. You have made my life, and Sarah’s life, a million times better. And while these past few years haven’t been picture-perfect for us, we made it through, and I know that we can take on anything that comes our way. Eres el alma más hermosa que he conocido, y soy muy afortunada de tenerte. (You are the most beautiful soul I have ever met, and I am so lucky to have you.) I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Mari baby, and I can’t have any more summers pass by without you being mine. Tú eres mi media naranja. (You’re my soulmate.) I love you. Te amo, Mari. You’re my soulmate, sweet girl, and I can’t take another day without the promise of forever. Will you marry me, Mariposa?”

Without hesitation, you nod your head frantically, your tears that started falling as soon as Joel started speaking continue to flow. You uncover your mouth, squeezing Sarah’s hand and sharing a smile with her before she takes her hand away.

“Yes, oh my gosh, Joel…of course, of course, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, J.” You squat down in front of him, left hand trembling as you hold it out for him. He carefully takes the ring from the box, and Sarah, ever the helper, takes it from the spot where it rests on his knee for safekeeping. The delicate gold band slips onto your finger, embellished with clusters of tiny gems and centered with an emerald cut diamond. It’s perfectly you, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you watch Joel settle the piece of jewelry on your finger. Both of you take a deep breath, admiring the sight before your eyes find each other’s again, matching expressions of complete admiration. Your hands find his cheeks, pulling him in for a tenderly passionate kiss, attempting to breathe all the love in your chest into the kiss and his heart. Joel pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours for a quiet moment.

“Thank you, J,” you whisper, and his head tilts with curiosity.

“For what, baby? I think I should be thankin’ you for sayin’ yes to me.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb at the back of your hand, skimming next to the band of the new addition.

“Everything. For not giving up. Your patience when I was still finding my way back to you. How effortlessly you’ve welcomed me into your life and your family…” Cheating your body away, one hand reaches out to pull Sarah into the small huddle, reuniting the moment within your unit of three, “I just—I can’t wait for all my summers to be spent with you both.”

“I can’t wait either. This is gonna be the first of many, Mari baby.”

And the two of you really couldn’t wait.

Only a week after Joel was down on one knee, your family was throwing you an engagement party. Tommy, a few of Joel’s close friends from his contracting company, your college friends, and neighbors were all in attendance to celebrate the two of you, and it was a big to-do. Drinks flowing, music playing, and food was being passed around. Everything under the warmth of a Texas night and the strung lights across the stretch of your parents’ backyard. Joel was glued to your side the entire night, hand on your back or clasped in yours, grabbing your refills and whispering in your ear to make you laugh.

“So…are all of these people coming to the wedding? ‘Cause I can count about half that I have no idea who they are.”

To that, you whispered back, “I don’t know them either, so definitely not. Unless they wanna buy us the most expensive thing on the registry.” Joel laughed, squeezing you closer — if it were even possible — and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Later, once you two were far past tipsy, Joel mumbled against your ear, barely able to get the words out without drunkenly giggling himself, “D’you think Mrs. Clarke is thinkin’ m’the one that got away?”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, bursting out in the middle of the conversation happening around you two, quickly covering your mouth as the lingering hiccups escape, “I think she’s singin’ the blues about you, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was filled with small moments between the two of you; never left alone long enough to have a full conversation on your own. Whispers of love and affection breathed out, fleeting kisses exchanged. It wasn’t until the party was over, everyone dwindled out the door and back to their homes, that you and Joel took a beat to speak to each other in more than one sentence. The early hours of the morning had crept in without anyone quite noticing, and Sarah was knocked out, brought inside to sleep in your old bedroom around 10pm when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Joel now held her in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder while the three of you walked the short distance home. After your quiet goodnight to Sarah that went unheard by her sleeping self, Joel put her down, taking off her shoes and leaving her undisturbed to sleep in her clothes.

Back in the ensuite of your, now, shared bedroom, you’re lazily getting ready for bed, movements slower and lagging from the alcohol you consumed. Joel stands behind you, facing your reflection in the mirror and giving you a smile as the exhaustion catches up to him.

“You have fun tonight, sweet girl?” His vocal cords rub together in a fry, hands finding their place on your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Littering kisses at the back of your neck, he hums contently before you affectionately shoo him off to brush his teeth while you apply your skincare.

“‘Course I did, J. Spent most of the night with you, how could I not have fun?” You grin at him from in front of your side of the double sinks, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. “Have you given any thought as to when you wanna set a date for?”

Whatever he responds is muffled by the foamy toothpaste, your face twisting in confusion before he leans over and spits out, rinsing his mouth and toothbrush. Standing back up, he rests his hip against the countertop while facing you, shrugging as he smirks slightly, “As soon as possible. Baby, I’d get married to ya in a garbage dump if it meant we could get married right this second. No puedo esperar para hacerte mi esposa. (Can’t wait to make you my wife.) And I know you don’t want that, and I want to make you happy, so whenever you want, Mari. Lo que sea que desees, lo haré realidad. (Whatever you wish for, I’ll make a reality.) But I will say, summer’s kind of our thing.”

A gentle smile stretches across your lips as you step closer, hands coming to rest on his chest and massaging your fingers gently into the muscles there, “Well, how about we do this summer? I mean, I don’t want anything fancy, just something special for us. Thought maybe we could do it here, in our backyard and my parents’. Where we met and fell in love and broke up and fell in love again and—”

“I love that idea, sweetheart. Think it’s perfect for us…” Joel punctuates his work by stealing a kiss, mint and strawberry lip balm melting on his tongue when he deepens it only for a few seconds, “Think we can manage for Labor Day weekend, mi amor?”

Nodding confidently, your hands skate up to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, “I believe we just set our wedding date, Miller.”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

A whirlwind of planning and three months later, you now stand in your childhood bedroom on the second floor of your parent’s house, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Your mom had helped you with your hair, a small gold barette holding one side away from your face; your makeup was fairly minimal, fresh, and bright, but nothing too heavy that would melt in the heat that has graced Austin this weekend.

On your wrist is your charm bracelet from Joel, a simple gold locket to match that your father had gifted you the evening before at the rehearsal dinner — it has belonged to his grandmother, and now your grandma wanted you to have it since she couldn’t make the trip down due to her age. It was your ‘something old’ he said, playing into the old traditions that seemed to charm your entire family.

Your ‘something borrowed’ was a pair of white strappy sandals from your mom, ones that she had worn to her rehearsal dinner when she married your dad. The title of ‘something new’ belonged to the charm hanging off of your wrist that was hand-delivered to you this morning from Tommy, per the request of Joel since you both were getting ready in opposite houses. The gift box unveiled a gold lotus flower, hand painted with deep magenta petals. Inside the lid of the box was a folded note, the words written by your soon-to-be husband in his usual scrawl.

Mi amor,

Got to reading one of your books you leave around about plants, and they were talking about the lotus flower. Made me think of you — since they go back to the murky water each evening and open their blooms at the break of day. You always start fresh, sweet girl, you’re so resilient and strong and pure of heart. No matter what happens, you get through it. And you won’t have to go at it alone, baby. I’m gonna be right there with you through anything.

You make me a better man.

Te amo, mi media naranja.

You had to touch up your makeup after having read the note over and over for minutes straight, now fresh faced and eager to get downstairs. One last time in the mirror, you give yourself the once over, smoothing the long, full skirt of your linen dress. The ruched empire bodice lays across your chest, framing your neck with a square shape along with the cap sleeves. Simple, but it feels perfectly you. And now, you were finally on your way to get your something blue: Joel in his navy suit, waiting at the end of the aisle for you.

Everyone’s gathered in their seats, only a crowd of around forty people from your lives occupying the rows, all carefully selected to make the cut. It was easy for Joel, he had three people he wanted there for sure, and well, his daughter didn’t have a choice living right next door, plus with her dad being the groom, and you being the bride. The only chance of a wild card he had was Tommy, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning despite the many shots he had the night prior. At the rehearsal dinner of all places.

Dressed and gaffed, he stands at the end of the short aisle after having walked down it hand-in-hand with Sarah, who was donning a lilac dress she picked out with your help and her hair in her natural, bouncy curls. She now sits next to Tommy in the front row, whose new girlfriend Maria is sitting on the other side of him, stealing peeks over the back of the seat to try to catch a glimpse of you at the top of the deck stairs. Joel is doing the same, eyes flickering from scanning over the crowd to tunneling at the opening of the stairs.

Music starts and it immediately tunes out of his ears, a tingle of excitement radiating from his chest throughout his body. A vision in white, you appear at the stairs with your arm linked to your dad, Mark; he isn’t paying attention to anything but you, captivated by your beauty. His heartbeat kicks up when you walk down, reaching the end of the grassy path between rows of chairs, and stopping for a moment. With the bouquet in one hand, you use the other that was resting on your dad’s arm to give him a short wave that he returns with a grin.

Each step you take brings up tears in his eyes, an overwhelming joy clenching around his heart. A few drop down his cheeks, using one of his thumbs to wipe away the streaks as you give him a gentle smile, speeding up your walk and dragging your dad along with you. The guests laugh at the eagerness, Joel rocking on the balls of his feet as he bites back his wild grin when you finally reach him. Exchanging hugs with your dad, Mark shakes Joel’s hand before clapping him on the back, a sure nod directed to him.

His hand slips into yours naturally, helping you with the last few steps to stand in front of him, exhaling a deep breath. A smile that he can’t wipe off stretches across his face, looking into your eyes as he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. You do the same, delicate touch against his skin while your gaze stays trained on his. Beating out of his chest, his heart thumps deeply, the wings of his butterfly fluttering madly in his gut in time with his heartbeat.

“Hey, Mari.”

“Hi, J.”

Everyone settles back in their seats, and your brother stands at the makeshift altar, a carved arbor handmade by Joel over the last few months frames the three of you in front of your guests. You turn to hand off the wildflower bouquet you put together to Sarah, eager to fulfill her responsibility of holding it during the ceremony. She grins, whispering to you loud enough for him to hear when she takes the arrangement.

“You look so pretty, Posey. I’m excited for you to marry Daddy.” Your hand reaches for her curls, squatting down in your dress to address her at eye level, unconditional love shining in your eyes as you look at his daughter.

“You look beautiful, Sare Bear. I’m so excited, too.” Other words are exchanged only between the two of you, a hug shared before Sarah retreats to her chair next to Tommy and you stand up and take Joel’s hands.

Chris ambles through an introduction, recollecting his version of events, as well as both of your sides, for how your relationship has progressed. Humor was laced throughout, laughter bubbling over throughout the crowd of guests, and especially between the two of you when you shared knowing expressions.

The ceremony moves quickly, with no religious elements to extend the length, simply secular. Before he knows it, Chris is reaching the vows, allowing a moment for Tommy to present the rings to each of you, clapping a hand on his brother’s back.

“Don’t fuck this one up, brother. Posey’s a good ‘un. Way too good for you—”

Joel cuts him off with a mumble and an eye roll, “I know all of this, Tommy, but thank you for the reminder.”

Chris directs Joel to go first, a deep inhale and extended exhale fills the air as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. He flashes a smile at you before he drops one of your hands, finishing in his inside jacket pocket for the small slip of paper.

“I tried to memorize this, but we both know that wasn’t gonna happen…” he huffs out a nervous chuckle, reading over the page before his eyes come back to you, a patient and gentle grin on your face, “I genuinely hope you know how much I love you. I try to show you, to tell you, to make you feel it through osmosis every day, but I truly hope you can feel it. Through all that we have been through together and on our own, I have always had you in my mind. I thought about you every day you were away, and all I was hoping for was your happiness. I cannot tell you what it means that you have found your happiness with me, but I will be thanking whatever forces are out there for bringing us back together. Our roads may have been bumpy, and they may be in the future, but I’m so thankful to have you in my passenger seat. Cause we both know you don’t like to drive.” Joel winks and the crowd of guests laugh.

“I never want to let go. And I’m never going to let you go, Mariposa, I’m in it for the long run. Eres todo para mí. (You are everything to me.) You are everything I have ever asked for, hoped for, didn't think I deserved. You are…un alma tan pura (such a pure soul) and I don't know how you ended up with me, but I'm countin’ my luck every second of every day. I love you through anything, mi Mariposa, and I cannot wait for our future together, as a family. I’m so happy that you have found a place you belong with Sarah and me, and I feel so lucky that you have chosen me. Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre.”

Recovering from your tears, you choke out a small sob that tugs on his heartstrings, tightening his grip on your hand while his brow furrows softly in concern.

“Happy tears, I promise, J. Very happy tears.” Another sob comes with a burst of laughter, a hand of yours fanning your face. Joel reaches up, wiping away the stragglers, careful to not smudge any of your mascara. With a deep breath, you focus back, centered, offering Joel your left hand. He repeats the phrase from Chris, who recites it from his printed-out online ordainment course before slipping the simple matching gold band onto your finger above your engagement ring, ears ringing when he sees the symbol of his love and commitment on your finger, where it will stay for the rest of his time on this Earth.

Next, it was your turn to recite your vows, Chris pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to you. A giggle slips from your lips, wavering the small folded sheet, “Couldn’t memorize it either. Got too much to say…”

Joel relaxes in his stance, thumb circling the back of your palm as he listens, the butterfly wings fluttering into his chest and up to his head, love overwhelming his nervous system across his body. You clear your throat, looking up from the wrinkled white sheet, “I didn’t know that one summer spent at home would completely send me on a whole new life path, but looking back, I am eternally grateful that I wanted to mooch off my parents for as long as possible. That first summer, I fell hard and fast, and despite the obstacles, my love continued to root deeper inside of me and grow out new branches with every memory we made together. I am so lucky to have been welcomed so easily into the Miller household, and I cannot imagine my life with you or Sarah there right next to me. You both have brought so much into my life and thanks to you, J, I feel like I have truly found myself.

“I was always searching for what I was meant to do, who I was meant to be, and what I would leave behind in my life. And while I went out searching everywhere, the answer was my next-door neighbor. I am meant to be your person, I was meant to care and love and create a life with you, and your wonderful daughter, and I know I will leave behind all my love for you and our family behind. My success does not need to be measured by the reach of my impact, but by how deeply I love you. That is all that matters to me, to make you feel loved and supported and to know how incredible you are. You mean the world to me, and I love Sarah as if she were my own; both of you are my best friends and I could not do this life without you. I am so excited to spend the rest of my days, and the rest of my summers with you, J. I love you. Forever.”

The same routine goes for you, slipping a gold band around Joel’s left ring finger. He flexes with the new accessory on his hand, admiring it before he looks at you, a wide and wild grin crossing his face as he listens as Chris starts to ask him that very special question, “Joel, do you ta—”

“Absolutely I do. No question.”

Laughter rises from the attendees, and you, playfully roll your eyes. Chris nods shortly, chuckling as he turns to address you with the same question. He states your name, inquiring, “Do you ta—”

“Of course, I do. Only been waitin’ years for this to happen.”

Joel laughs, shaking his head as he mumbles a sweet agreement, “You and me both, baby.”

Chris drops the papers he was reading from next to him on the grass, clasping his hands together, “Well, that made it damn easy for me. With the power vested in me by apparently the state of Texas, but who really knows, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now y’all can kiss finally.”

A hand presses against the small of your back, pulling you into his chest as he folds down, latching your lips to his in a deep kiss, all of his love pouring into the moment. It takes restraint to not take it further in front of everyone, your intoxicating taste drawing him in and quenching a perpetual thirst he has. You lean back first, fingertips digging into his shoulders to hold him off as you whisper, “Gotta keep some decorum until tonight, Mr. Miller.”

“Hard to do that with you, Mrs. Miller,” he rasps back, matching blindingly bright grins across your faces as you right yourself, turning to face your guests as your brother loudly announces.

“For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

With the low-key, intimate wedding that you both had planned together, there was no real formal separation of the ceremony and reception. Instead, everyone wandered over to the backyard of Joel’s home, which was now yours, too. There were rented tables set up with chairs around, no seating chart, and a checkered dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn. Lights have been strung from his deck to the tree at the back of the property line that holds Sarah’s tire swing, some lanterns strewn about to add more light as the sun sets in the later evening.

The family-favorite restaurant in the city that the three of you have frequented, even as friends, catered the meal, and your parents, ever so prepared, had stocked up all summer with booze. Your dad plays pretend bartender, getting your now-husband behind the tablecloth-covered folding table and pouring heavy drinks and somehow heavier shots. By sundown, everyone was liquored up enough to cheer for you both to have a first dance, chanting their request over and over.

Joel looks at you from his spot next to you, eyebrows raising in question. His hand at your back draws you closer, starting to sway to whatever song is playing as he grins with a looseness to him, relieved to have you as his for good and relaxed from the alcohol in his blood. “C’mon, Mari baby, I wanna dance with you. M’wife. I got the perfect song.”

“Okay, okay, you go tell Chris what song you want and see if he’s got it on his iPod.”

You push Joel along, giggling to yourself as he shuffles over to Chris, the makeshift DJ for the evening. Joel leans in, talking in your brother’s ear over the music currently playing. They exchange a smile and nod, Joel laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking it affectionately. His beer gets abandoned on the nearest surface, giddily running over to you and taking your hand. Impatiently, he pulls you to the center of the dance floor, and Tommy intercepts your drink before it sloshes all over the front of you, huffing out a disbelieving breath as you continue to drag behind Joel.

Your husband turns you in his arms, one hand finding your back as the other lifts your joined ones toward his shoulder, elbows bent. Everyone else clears the dancefloor as an upbeat guitar riff sounds out of the speakers surrounding the dancefloor, the bright drums kicking in as Joel starts to shuffle the two of you around the dancefloor, a swing to your movements again.

The familiar lyrics of Orleans’ Still the One that Joel has sung to you many times over the last year are recited right back to you, making you reminisce about the time you were driving in the car to pick up Sarah from camp, a rare afternoon that both of you had off together. The song had come onto Joel’s favorite classic rock station, perking him up in his seat as he turned the volume dial up.

“Oh, Mari baby, this is such a great song.”

Not as familiar with it, you listen, giggling as he sings along with his words pointed at you, and you had to admit, they were pretty sickly sweet. Ever since then, Joel got into the habit of singing it to you, learning to play it after he received his new guitar from you at Christmas.

Dancing with him now, under the sticky heat of the tail end of Texan summer, surrounded by family and friends, he makes you feel as if it’s only the two of you again like it was for every other moment before with this same song.

In your ear, he sings along only for you, pulling away and twirling you as y’all take over the entire dancefloor with how free and loose you’re playing it. “You’re still the one that makes me laugh…still the one that’s my better half…we’re still havin’ fun and you’re still the one.”

At the next chorus, you join him in singing along, laughing at his excitement, both of you singing along louder. The song reaches the guitar solo, and Joel takes both of your hands, swinging you out from his chest before pulling you back in; he spins you to cross your arms in front of you, and your back to his chest before twirling you out. On the last line, when the final word is dragged out, he wraps his arms around you, spinning both of you around until the final chord strikes, setting you down and chests heaving to catch your breaths. Wide smiles still find your open mouths, cheers and whistles from the guests gathered around the dancefloor, now filling the checkered floor as the next song plays.

Breathless, Joel grins madly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, “Think we did pretty damn good for unplanned, don’t you, Miller?”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was all the same, a night spent with your closest family and friends all celebrating the two of you and your love. Both you and Joel shared a dance with Sarah separately, relishing in her unbridled joy and Joel comforted his daughter when she shed a few tears about how happy she was. Your dad pulled you for a short jaunt around the dancefloor, and Joel asked your mom for a dance, which she accepted happily as a stand-in for his mom.

More drinks flowed into glasses and out of bottles, your shoes kicked off and Joel’s jacket and tie discarded onto the back of a chair somewhere. Your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and laughing the whole time, a weight lifted, the promise of forever with your favorite person now on its way to being a reality.

You both ceremoniously cut the small single-tiered cake that your mom ordered, serving the slice on a plate. Grabbing a piece with your hands, you cheers it with Joel’s, watching as his went into his mouth and laughing as yours went across his cheek. He feigned shock, shaking his head as he looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, taking a step closer. A turn on the ball of your foot directs you in an attempt to get away; failing miserably, misstepping from your level of drunkenness, Joel catches you in his arms. Turning you back around to face him, he steals a purposefully sloppy kiss, buttercream smearing against your lips and chin, the taste of vanilla coating your tongue as it melts into the taste of Joel, whiskey, beer, and sugary sweetness from the dessert.

At the very end of the night, most guests in cabs home or retreat to their homes down the street, it’s left to your closest people. The last song of the night is announced by Chris, the same song that has come up again and again for the two of you trilling over the speakers. Everyone dances and sings along to American Pie, the perfect cyclical moment for the two of you, and the closing moment of your summer. Sarah dances with the two of you, laughing as Joel twirls her around, infectious smiles on their faces.

Your heart grows in your chest, nearly to the point of bursting as you take a step back in your mind, taking in all of the moment as it surrounds you. In the backyard of your new house, the next chapter of your life starts with Joel and Sarah; right next door is your childhood home, full of love and memories with your parents and brother. Even through the hardships, these places and people have never stopped feeling like home.

The song finishes with a flourish, Joel tucking you into his chest after he scoops Sarah into his arms with a soft groan. Sarah lays her head on her dad drowsily and he presses a kiss to her forehead, mirroring the same on yours; a mumble against your skin is barely heard by you, his drawl exaggerated by the liquor, “Mi Mariposa y mariposita. My lil’ Bug. Love my girls so much.”

Tommy slides sleepy Sarah into his arms from Joel after you two say goodnight to her, the younger Miller brother already prepared the arrangement for her to stay at his on the night of your wedding. You reassure her the promise to meet at Waffle House in the morning, which will likely be the afternoon with the state of the adults. Maria, the designated driver, and Tommy, much closer to sober than drunk than you were expecting, send another congratulations your way before they’re off to the car with Sarah.

After the necessary sweep of cleaning is done between you two and your immediate family, food, drink, and lanterns gathered, they part ways, taking everything back to theirs to deal with in the morning along with striking down the tables, chairs, and dancefloor. In the quiet of the early morning hours, you and Joel stand with your arms around each other, swaying gently. Cheek to chest, Joel’s voice rasps from overuse, vibrating your ear pressed against him, “Was it what you wanted, sweet girl?”

“Everything and more, J. I loved it,” you say as you pull your head away, tilting your chin to look into his eyes, “And I love you, m’husband.”

“I love you more, m’wife.” He shakes his head, biting a smile back, “Don’t think m’ever gonna get tired of callin’ you that, Mari.”

“Me neither. Gonna be callin’ you my husband instead of usin’ your name,” you flirt as your smirk grows and he wiggles his eyebrows, hand drifting down to the curve of your ass.

“Guess we better test that theory, baby.” He grins as he bends his knees, lifting you over his shoulder. His other hand rests on your ass to balance you, your hands pressing against his lower back as you shriek slightly from the initial shock. “Want the whole neighborhood to know m’your husband now. Even if they weren’t invited, so you better be loud, m’gorgeous wife.”

He walks you both up the stairs and through the backdoor, your snort echoing in the quiet of the night, pulling out the ol’ faithful from the early days with him, “Yes, sir.”

second nature

“What do you think about getting a dog?” you ask from your seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in your lap. Joel pops his head out from the en-suite, brow quirked as he continues to towel off his hair and laugh softly.

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it, darlin’.” He disappears again, hanging his towel on the back of the door before coming back out of the bathroom with a clean pair of boxers on, washed up from his long day on-site. “Have you been thinking about getting a dog?”

A sheepish grin stretches across your face, shrugging your shoulders as Joel gets into bed. He matches your position, leaning back against the headboard and turning his head toward you. He’s intrigued. If he wasn’t, he’d tell you that you could talk about it more in the morning, and then he would give you his honest opinion in the light of day. Never wanting to start a silly argument before bed, always attempting to keep the peace.

Which made him great at compromising. To what you wanted in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking it would be nice for Sarah. Like something to learn responsibility — teaching her to feed it on schedule and take it for walks and fill the water bowl.”

“Yeah, it’ll teach her that I’ll take on all those responsibilities when she gets bored of it,” your husband snorts at his own comment, making you roll your eyes playfully and scoot closer.

“Oh, c’mon, J. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a dog around? We wouldn’t even need to get a puppy if you think it’s too much. But I work at home nannying baby Amelia so I’d be around all day and then when Sarah gets home from school or camp, she can take him or her for a walk. And then feed it before you even get home. Oh! Or you could take the dog to work with you! How cute would that be, you could train him to grab your tools for you.”

A contagious smile brightens your face in the low lamplight, one that Joel can’t help but mirror on his own face. The eagerness is evident in your expression and your voice, and the proposition doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult of an adjustment. Shaking his head at your suggestions, he laughs quietly while reaching a hair up to smooth your hair away from your face.

“Are you gonna be the one to teach it what all the different screwdrivers are?”

An excited gasp exhales and you scramble to straddle Joel’s lap, “Wait, are you serious? You’re actually okay with getting a dog?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean back to look at his face. His hands find the curve where your thighs melt into your ass, squeezing gently. Always handsy.

“Yeah, baby, we can get a dog.” Joel groans dramatically when you pull yourself tight against him, hugging him while on hand rubs back and forth at the base of your spine. “I’ve got some conditions though.”

Unraveling from his neck, you stay perched in his lap, nodding fervently. “Anything. Whatever you want, if it means we get a dog.”

“Oh, anything?” he teases with another squeeze of your bum, laughing when you shoot him a look.

“Not what I meant, Miller. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Can’t help it with you, sweet girl. My mind’s always in the gutter around you.” The sentiment is punctuation with a tender kiss to your lips and one to your forehead. Calloused palms skate along your bare thighs, humming contently, “Conditions are: has to be a big dog. Don’t want one of those little white dogs or like something that’ll break if we have babies and they’re a little rough with it.”

The forethought he has for your future children warms your heart, and you agree immediately, “Deal. Didn’t want a little dog anyways. What else?”

“Gotta fence in the backyard. I don’t mind putting in a gate for us and your parents to easily go back and forth through, but I don’t want the chance of the dog gettin’ out when we’re all outside.”

“Totally understandable. I’ll even help you install the fence,” you offer proudly.

“That’s real sweet, Mari baby, thank you. You don’t gotta lift a finger though, I’ll bring some of the guys over and pay a little extra and we’ll get it done in a day, no problem.”

“Alright, so big dog, fence. Anything else you’d like to negotiate, Mr. Miller?” you mock a formal tone, turning your nose up. Joel laughs, tightening his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Kisses press into your neck and along your jaw, pausing inches away from your lips as he makes his final request.

“Dog sleeps in Sarah’s room or downstairs. I like our privacy.” He smirks before kissing you deeply, easily flipping you onto your back and hovering above you. Your legs hook around his waist and he raises his eyebrows, “That all sound fair to you, Mariposa?”

“Absolutely it does. Guess we’re getting a dog, ri—” You’re cut off by his lips on yours again, pressing you further into the mattress with his body weight.

“Let’s save the rest of this for the morning,” Joel mumbles against your skin as he trails his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, “‘Cause right now, I think I’d rather get some pussy.”

He doubles over in laughter at his own joke, forehead pressing against your chest as his shoulders heave. Your fingers comb into his hair, unable to fight quiet chuckles of your own no matter how hard you try to not give him the satisfaction.

“God, you’re such a dork.”

The clock rolls to 3pm as you sit in your car, lined up along with parents of campers. Shrills of laughter and screams echo from the bright, primary-colored playground across the way, counselors attempting to corral the kids to lead them out for pick-up. Air conditioning blasts on you as you fan at the back of your neck, exhaling in the sweltering Texan heat. It’s only the beginning of summer, June barely having turned over, but the temperatures have reached record highs for the year already.

Your stepdaughter. The thought still makes you smile months on, the dynamic between the two of you falling naturally into a closer, more nurturing relationship. Little acknowledgments from Sarah have made your heart sing over the days; routinely saying goodnight to you along with Joel, asking you for permission to go play outside, seeking you out nearly as much as Joel when she has had a nightmare. The pair of you have built routines of your own before bed, you making a promise to Sarah to read with her and to show her your favorite books from when you were her age.

A few nights ago, Sarah had retreated with you to her room, at least thirty minutes before her bedtime to get in another chapter of Matilda by Roald Dahl. The main character reminded you of Sarah’s sweet and spunky personality, and you were so excited that she fell in love with the story and its characters as quickly as you did when you read it for the first time.

Sat up against her headboard, Sarah laid back in your arms and cracked open the novel where her bookmark stuck out, started to read aloud to you in the low lamplight. Mindlessly, you played with her hair as you listened to her confidently recite the words from the page. The day caught up to you, the peaceful moment pulled a yawn from your lungs. Sarah’s words slowed down, her eyes slowly blinking until they closed, which was your queue to slip the book from her hands and mark the spot, and laid it on her nightstand.

When you tried to slip out from behind her to leave her to sleep soundly, she stirred, mumbling the sweetest, “Will you stay for a little bit, Posey?”

And you had no choice but to oblige her request. After getting comfortable next to her, Sarah curled into your side and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, continued to play with her hair to soothe her back to sleep.

What you hadn’t realized was that you also drifted off in her twin bed with her, the lamp still on. Joel was watching TV downstairs, waiting for you to retreat down the steps as you do every night, but no sign of you after an hour had him standing up to go searching. It was quiet when he reached the top of the stairs, no telling giggles or loud whispers to give the two of you away.

He pushed open the cracked door of Sarah’s bedroom, and was met with a sight that squeezed his heart tight, a sigh exhaled from his lungs. You tucked right next to his little one, and both slept deeply. Without disturbing your rest, he tiptoed over to the nightstand, tugged the blanket up over both of you before he hovered above the bed to press a gentle kiss to each of your foreheads.

Lamp clicked off, he whispered to your unconscious ears, “G’night, girls. Love you two.”

It was a few hours before your usual alarm when you’d woken up, sore from the small space and glanced around the dark room to discover you had fallen asleep next to Sarah. Carefully slipped out from the covers, you tucked her back in and padded down the hall to your bedroom where Joel was sleeping, a soft snore came from him as he’d starfished out on the mattress. You gently shook him half awake to move him, and he groaned softly at the disruption before he tugged you into his chest and pressed a drowsy kiss to your shoulder.

“Was jus’ too cute to wake you up, Mari baby. My Mariposa and my lil’ Bug…” He hummed sleepily into your skin, hand gently rubbed circles in your lower belly while your eyes close, desperate for those last few hours of slumber. “Makes me so happy.”

“Me too, J. M’so, so happy she’s that comfortable with me. My baby best friend. And you’re my big baby best friend…” You breathed out an airy giggle and Joel protested weakly behind you, a gentle pinch to your side before you both exchanged a quick “love you” and drifted right back off.

The reminder of the sweet moment in the morning from Joel was the highlight of your week.

Climbing out of the car, the engine running and door open, you round the front bumper and stand on the curb to wait. You find her before she finds you, calling out to her to grab her attention, “Hey, sweet pea!”

Her familiar deep brown irises search for the source of your voice, landing on your face and waving excitedly. Sarah checks out with her counselor for the day, scurrying over to you with her backpack bouncing at her shoulders.

“Hi, Posey!”

She collides with your torso, her growth spurts finally starting over the last few months so the top of her head hits just at your chest, and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Patting her back, you laugh and pull her back to look her in the face, “Well, hello to you too, Sare Bear. How was camp today? You ready to go?”

After your greetings, she climbs into the backseat on the opposite side of Amelia’s car seat. You store her bag in the passenger seat with yours before retreating around to the driver’s side, heading off once both of you are secured in your seatbelts.

Flicking your eyes up in the rearview mirror, the two of you catch up, which mostly consists of her recapping the camp activities and excitedly talking about the pool day that’s planned for Friday. As you turn onto your street, Sarah’s brow furrows at the sight of Joel’s truck in the driveway.

“Dad’s home already? That’s weird.”

“Hm, I guess he is. Or maybe he’s just stopped by to grab something he forgot. You know how he is.”

Sarah laughs in agreement as you park your car next to his truck. Both of you get out and head in through the garage, straight into the kitchen where Joel’s standing at the counter eating a sandwich.

“Told you, Sare, stopped by ‘cause he forgot something. Lunch.” You send him a teasing grin as you deposit Sarah’s bag by the door and kick off your sandals. She does the same before wandering past her dad to the fridge in search of a snack. Apple doesn’t fall far.

“What? I can’t happen to drop in hoping to see my wife and my daughter in the middle of my work day? Do I have to have ulterior motives?” Joel speaks, words muffling around the bite in his mouth as you approach the island to stand opposite him.

“Dad, you literally always ask ‘What’s for dinner?’ or ‘What’s cookin’?’ after you say hi to us every day. Your motivation is always to get some food,” Sarah chimes in from in front of the fridge, laughing when Joel looks at her offended.

“See? Even a ten year old recognizes the pattern of behavior,” you confirm your findings, laughing as Joel grumbles to himself and pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

“Well, for your information, both of you, I am here for an entirely different reason than lunch and to see you two.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking between the two of you with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all go look in the living room and then tell me if you wanna keep makin’ fun of Dad?”

Sarah excitedly starts off toward the living room, giddy about the surprise awaiting her. Your brow furrows and lips twist up in curiosity, eyes staying glued to Joel. He laughs and nods to the other room, a bright smile on his face.

“Better go see, mi amor. Think you’ll want to meet him.” Joel winks, your attention being pulled away when you both hear Sarah gasp from the living room.

“Oh my gosh! Posey, come here! Aw!”

That’s when it registers — the surprise, home in the middle of the day, the smirk, ‘you’ll want to meet him’.

“You didn’t,” you breathe out, head snapping back to Joel as he gives you a wide, genuine grin.

“Go! See for yourself.” He rounds the island and grabs your hips from behind, guiding your steps into the living room. Sarah’s giggles fill the room as the fluffy Bernese Mountain puppy stands in her lap and licks at her face. The small dog’s attention is pulled from her and over to you and Joel entering the room, a tiny bark sounding before he scampers over.

“Joel, oh my god, how did you—when—oh my god…” You kneel down to scoop up the little one into your arms and cuddle it gently, giving it pets before letting him run around again.

“Found someone who had a litter with their family dogs the day after we talked about it. And arranged to pick him up. They said he’s the energetic one, and that he’s gonna be a big boy. Like a hundred pounds.”

“Oh my god, he’s so sweet…thank you, J.” You beam up at him, waving him to bend down and steal a kiss, squeezing his shoulder.

Sarah’s playing with your new family dog, tugging with a rope toy as he fights back with his whole little body. “Thank you, Dad. He’s so cute!”

“What should we name him?” Joel asks as he lowers himself to the floor next to you, smiling as the puppy runs over. The two rough house, Joel easily flipping him over to scratch at his belly as the dog pants happily.

“Any ideas, Sare?” you ask, looking over at her.

She thinks for a moment before looking up between Joel and you, laughing at the tiny pup’s antics, “What about Goose? He just seems like one. Like a silly goose.”

“Goose? I like it, Bug,” Joel confirms, turning to you with a grin, “How about you, Mari?”

Nodding, you look at the new addition to the family, burning bright with happiness at your people’s excitement, “I think Goose is a perfect fit. And now you’re not outnumbered anymore, J. Two girls and two boys in the Miller household.”

Sarah laughs and lays down to cuddle with Goose while Joel moves closer to your side, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head as he quietly whispers, “Hopefully won’t be too long before the boys are outnumbered again.”

“And what makes you say it won’t be us girls being outnumbered?”

“Call it father’s intuition. Wouldn’t know what to do with a little boy, bein’ a dad to another girl would just be second nature. Plus, I would want a mini Mari running around the world.” Joel presses a kiss to your temple before you turn your head, catching his pursed lips with yours sweetly.

“I’d take anything if it means havin’ a little piece of you forever, J.”

third time lucky

Negative.

A single line, bold and brash, stares back at you. Turning the plastic in your hands, you attempt to read it at different angles, the smallest bit of hope lingering for another line to appear — that it was a trick of the light that was causing your disappointment.

To no avail, the blue strip remains unaccompanied in the small window. A sinking feeling fills your body from your toes up. Everything feels heavier, except your lower stomach. That has never felt as empty as it is now.

Heavy footsteps thump a vibration in the floors, but your focus remains on a speck of dust floating in the light past your field of vision. His presence hangs in the bedroom, milling about, unknowing of what you were up to before he came in from mowing the lawn.

“Hey, baby, m’gonna take a shower and then we’ve got Sarah’s softball game at three. Probably half to leave here around two, her coach asked all the parents to be thirty minutes early for some reason…” Joel’s voice fades in your head as your thoughts start to yell, scream, fight, taunt inside of your mind.

A hard swallow pops your ears, the ringing in them growing louder as your mind begins to wander. The test is left discarded on the bathroom counter, with no heart yet to throw it in the garbage where the others have ended up. Your bare feet shuffle against the rug as you seek out solace under covers, even in the ninety-plus-degree heat. The springs of the mattress shift under your weight, lying on your side facing the opposite side of the bed that lays empty right now. The coverlet is pulled up over you, curling your fingers at the hem tightly, white knuckle grip to release some of the tension that has taken over your mind. You want to scream, cry, yell, question — but what you want most of all is to be able.

Why aren’t you able? Why can’t you do what your body is made to do, what it begs for, what it reminds you that you’ve failed at every month?

Joel stands in observation of you, careful distance, one hand lifting before he drops it. He can guess what this is about. What you’ve left behind in the en-suite. But to confirm his suspicions, he quietly walks into the tiled room, leaving his clean clothes on the counter while he picks up the test.

Negative.

His body sinks, toes up to his head, but with a gaping, empty feeling in his chest. There’s so much room left in his heart, room he is eager to fill with another part of you, another love, another soul to protect. Now, though, all of his emptiness is filled with an ache for you. You’ve been dreaming out loud for a year now, wonderings and visions shared with him late nights and early mornings — Will they have his eyes? You hope so, so that they look like their sister. Who’s ears would they have? What quirks will they pick up from both of you? Who will they grow up to be? How will we be able to contain our love for both of our kids?

Our kids. Joel remembers that night; after you said that, he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t contain his love for you. No hesitation that his own was yours now, too. All he wanted was to give you another, to see your belly grow and your smile brighten and your skin glow. He was begging for whatever power was in the universe for that time to take, for both of you to be gifted with what you wished for so often, so deeply.

Desperation. Wavering confidence. Sorrow, worry, dwindling hope. He saw it all over you, time after time when the single line appeared on the plastic sticks.

You and Joel had been trying for a year. A long year. Maybe your desire was too strong, too overpowering. But shouldn’t that be a sign of your love? For each other, for your family? All he wants to do is give you the life you’ve wished for. And yes, all you’ve said you want is a life with him, but anyone who meets you would be able to tell you are meant for a nurturing life. Meant for motherhood.

It was already natural for you, taking a ten-year-old in stride, making her into your best friend — making her a priority over Joel most of the time. He knew it didn’t matter to you that she wasn’t yours, biologically speaking, but he can’t help but want to give you a child that is part you. How badly he wants another piece of you in the world, all of your goodness packaged into the purest soul.

Resigning with a sigh, he sets the test down on the cool countertop and exits the bathroom, a slow stride over to your lying form. Crumpled under covers. With a soft groan, he lowers himself to his knees with cracks popping his joints. His age is starting to show the closer he gets to forty and the more hours he works in the summer weather, another looming factor for him — he’s only known being a young dad. If you two have to wait, what would it be like to be nearly sixty when your kid graduates high school?

Shaking the superficial concerns from his head, his wide palm glides along the quilted fabric draped over your side. He rests his chin on his opposite arm, laying against the mattress close to your pillow. At the coax of his touch, you turn over to face him. Lips pursed in a frown, dried watery streaks being washed anew with your fresh tears, fat and rolling down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. They drip off of your skin, dotting and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase underneath you.

Joel leans in, brushing your hair from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a lingering kiss. A deep breath draws the smell of your shampoo into his nose, down deep into his lungs where it soothes his aching chest.

“Mari, sweet girl, I know it’s hard. I know we want it so bad, but there’s always another option,” he speaks softly, kindly, delicately, “We can go to that fertility specialist your doctor recommended. I promise, mi amor, we’ll have a baby together.”

He means it, and you can tell he means it. Ever since you had been back together, ever since he confessed his feelings for you — years ago now — he hasn’t made an empty promise. From tiny little things like a pledge to stop on the way home for your favorite ice cream, going to three different stores and adding nearly an hour to his day simply to show up with it for you, to larger, grander oaths, his wedding vows, the promise of building a beautiful life with you.

Emotion is thick in your throat as you attempt to vocalize your concerns. They keep you up at night, with Joel’s warm and expansive hand resting on your stomach right above your womb as he sleeps soundly. He wants it clearly as much as you do; you can feel it each time you’ve tried. How badly he wants to provide this for you.

Is he having the same thoughts as you? Does he wonder if something’s ‘wrong’ with you?

“I wanna be able to do it. Why can’t I do it on my own?” The sound of your meek voice shatters his heart and he shakes his head back and forth, adamant in shutting down the thoughts.

Tugging the covers down, Joel’s hands find your exposed skin, sliding across with a clammy touch from his labor outside. And nerves, too, you’d guess. Moving from his knees on the floor next to the bed, he finds a spot sitting at your side and shifts you to lay on your back. Opening up to him. Warmth rests over your womb, blanket pulled down to the tops of your thighs while his thumb brushes at your stomach, catching on the fabric of your shirt.

“No—oh, mi Mariposa, you don’t even know if it would be you with an issue. Very well could be me. Maybe breathin’ all the paint fumes at work killed m’little swimmers.” He breathes a small laugh through his nose, attempting to lighten the mood.

Your hands fly up to your face, muffling your voice, “Oh, god, don’t say that. I wanna have your baby, not some sperm donors.”

His hand coasts up your torso, over to your side to wrap around your rib cage, feeling your breaths as his fingertips lightly tickle the spot, “That was supposed to make you laugh, sweet girl.”

Hands falling away from your face, your brow pinches together and your frown deepens. About to make a retort, your mouth open, Joel skates the fingertips of both his hands up and down your sides, alternated on each side of you to make it harder to catch his wrists. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, your frown morphing into a flashing smile before you’re calling for a surrender in between gasping breaths.

Relenting, his hands stop, settling at the curve of your waist. He leans over you, nudging his nose against yours before pressing a ghosting kiss to your lips. A small grin, hopeful and reassuring, with a tinge of worry flickering in his irises, barely there before his smile reaches his eyes, “It’ll happen for us, Mari baby. Why don’t we say, one last go before lookin’ into the doctors? We’ll do all the things, track whatever we need to track. I’ll drop whatever I need to come home and put a baby in you.”

Joel wiggles his eyebrows, playful smirk crossing his expression. You roll your eyes under him, pushing an accusing finger into his chest, “Like you don’t already do that. I could call you in the middle of work and just go ‘Hey, J’ and you’re in the truck on your way home.”

“That’s right, Mari. As it should be. Y’know what they say — happy wife, happy life.” Another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more savoring. “What d’ya say, mi amor? One more go?”

“Okay, yeah. One more go.”

Butterflies kick up in your stomach when you hear the low rumble of Joel’s truck cut, heavy door swinging closed and quick strides following. The front door opens after a short jingle of keys, shutting behind him with the slide of the lock back into place. Distant grumbles of his make you laugh, his frustrations with his work boots floating upstairs to where you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your hands. Clad in only your bra and panties, you work your bottom lip between your teeth as anticipation builds with each of Joel’s footsteps up the carpeted stairs.

You both only have the afternoon — less than an hour of your afternoon, actually — to make your last attempt. Already having taken advantage of the window in your cycle twice, the peak day of your ovulation fell, of course, during the busiest time of year for Miller Construction. Summer has come to a close, and now people have picked up their home improvements to start nesting for the winter; a craving you’ve been having yourself, desperate to make your home larger and livelier by one more. Joel has snuck away for a moment that you two have alone, and you’ve told the couple you nanny for that you have an immovable appointment for today.

Pretty sure the only thing that will be immovable today will be you once Joel’s hour is up.

“Mari? Mi amor?” he calls out and you chuckle softly at the boyish excitement in his voice.

“In the bedroom, J!”

Joel rounds the doorway into your shared room, stopping a handful of steps past the threshold when he registers the sight of you. He hums a low moan, licking his lips as his eyes devour your lacy undergarments, “Mierda, mi esposa, estás tratando de matarme? (Shit, my wife, are you trying to kill me?) You look so fucking beautiful, darlin’.”

A low whistle leaves his lips as he stalks closer, eyes rake over your form as you present your primped self for his taking.

“You get all pretty for me, sweet girl? I like this…” he rasps as he’s within arm’s reach now, stretching a hand out to toy with the strap of your bra and snapping it against your skin sharply.

“Wanted to look pretty when you fill me up, J.” One curl of his finger under your chin draws you to sit up straight, tilting your head back to look at Joel towering over you.

“Good girl,” he praises, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “You want me to fill up your sweet little cunt, Mariposa? Want me to give you a baby? Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, eyelids fluttering closed as his hands trail lightly across your exposed skin, ghosting everywhere you need him most.

“More, sweetheart. Dime. Dime cuánto lo deseas. Suplicar por ello. (Tell me. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg for it.)” His instructions float through your head, only keywords translating in while Joel leaves over you, lips pressing feather-light kisses along your neck, across your chest.

“I need it, Joel. Need you so fucking bad, I wanna have your baby. Want you to make me a mom, fill me up as many times as it takes until we get our baby…please, J…” As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to do him in, the wild, fervent look in your eyes intrigues him beyond. Hearing the words from your lips, directed to him, he’s fucking aching. He was growing hard on his way over here, the thoughts swimming through his mind of you laid out and ready for him to take delegating his blood supply to rush down below his belt.

He needs you, but first, he needs to see you unraveling underneath him only from his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty little mind, Mari. M’gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure this one takes. Let’s call it third time lucky this summer.”

He shoots you a wink, your mouth parting to respond. Before you can let any breath escape, his lips are crashing with yours. Heavy, heady, and so fucking hot it spirals your thoughts into nothing. His tongue melts with yours, the taste of his black coffee and the donut he must have eaten at work this morning tingling your taste buds. Sweat sticks to his skin when your hands rest at the sides of his neck, falling backwards as he climbs over you. He smells of wood shavings, freshly mowed grass, and hard work — calloused hands gliding along your body and feeling the softest of scratches of his blue collar hands.

“Joel, need you — please.” It’s more of a whine than a begging whimper, rising frustration levels from his lack of touch in the place you need and want him the most.

Your cunt is desperate, dripping down your folds and surely soaking the sheets. A quick jerk of your hips attempts to brush against him, to catch any relief for the need building low in your stomach. A large palm presses your lower half back against the mattress, the other hand pushing your leg to the side to open you up further for him. A knuckle brushes your clit, grazing up and down your seam through your soaked panties. Your husband clicks his tongue as he shakes his head at you, patronizing tone slick in his voice.

“Darlin’, I wanna take every second of my time with you. Are you gonna let me? Gonna let me get your cunt squeezing my fingers? Gonna let me fill you up, mi amor?” he asks, as if you wouldn’t say yes to all of those requests and he knows it. Nodding, a desperate yes exhaled when he applies more pressure with his finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Good girl. Siempre tan bueno para mí. (Always so good for me.)”

Joel folds over your, taking one of your perked nipples into his mouth through your bra and sucking. His tongue flattens against the cup before he’s pulling at the nub with his teeth. The material is darkened where his mouth was when he grows a bit more needy, grabbing at the straps and yanking the bra to rest at your midsection. You slip your arms out of the straps and he pushes you further onto the bed by the back of your thighs, stripping your panties off and settling on his knees.

Pressure forms against your clit from two of his fingers, slow circles dragging a moan from your throat. Joel smirks, satisfied with the way you squirm under him, trying and failing to get more from his hands. Before you can vocalize a whine, Joel is over you again, bringing his attention to your now bare breast while the circles continue. Hot, humid kisses are littered on the soft skin, happy hums rolling from Joel’s chest. He pulls his head up, looking down at your chest with a half grin and his dimple on display.

“You’re gonna get so soft and swollen everywhere, Mariposa. Round belly, huge tits—can’t wait to play with ‘em.” His grin widens, boyish and brazen with the glee that the fact fills him with. “You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me make your sore tits feel better with my mouth?”

His question goes unanswered as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples, sucking and flattening his tongue as he nurses it. Pulling away with a pop, he mimics the same on the other side, the intensity of his suckling along with his fingers rubbing faster against your clit — even slipping down to tease at your entrance — has you wiggling under him, desperation notching up your spine.

“Joel, please,” you plead, choking on your breath when he pulls the bud of your breast between his teeth, a low growling sound rumbling from his throat.

Two of his thick fingers push into your dripping cunt, a relieved moan echoing against the walls of the bedroom. Curling up into your spongy walls, they thrust quickly and pet at the certain spot inside of you. Joel’s mouth is still at your chest, his hunger feeding itself on the taste of your skin.

“Fuck, Mari, gonna break my fucking fingers off. So fucking tight.”

A distraught whimper crawls from your chest, breaths heaving as your walls clench around his quick-paced fingers. You gasp when he slips a third one in, hooking them up. Despite the stretch, you still feel an emptiness. All you want is his cock inside of you, spilling into you and leaving you to grow fuller with his baby. The thoughts of him above you, fucking it all deeper into you to reach your womb, drive you over the edge. The tips of his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his warm mouth hanging open at your tit while his eyes watch you come undone. Writhing and walls pulsing around his fingers, his name falls from your mouth as you choke out moans and your vision grows dark.

“That’s it, Mari baby, fuck,” Joel works you through the orgasm before his fingers leave you and he sits back on his haunches. Sucking his digits clean of your slick and come, the other hand rubs your thigh gently before he coos down at you, “That was a big one, wasn’t it? Feel good?”

Still coming down from it all, your body feels liquidity, taking whatever form Joel is molding you into right now after he’s stripped himself bare. One hand slips under you, unclasping your bra and tugging it away from your torso, leaving you as naked as him. His eyes drink in your body while his grip holds your calves, chuckling darkly when you finally breathe out a response, “I feel…like I need you to put a baby in me.”

“Cualquier cosa para usted, mi esposa. Vas a estar tan lleno de mí. Te encanta la sensación de mi mecos dentro de ti, ¿verdad? (Anything for you, my wife. You're going to be so full of me. You love the feeling of my cum inside of you, don't you?)” Your head rolls with a nod, agreeing to anything Joel says in the moment, still hazy from how hard he’d made you come moments ago. Half-lidded eyes watch as he licks his fingers, stroking his cock a few times with a quiet sigh. That’s something you could watch all day — Joel’s pleasure. And here underneath him, you have the perfect view, and the perfect position to be used for it.

Fully handing over control to him, his hands tug you up so your ass sits on his thighs while he’s on his knees. Fingertips skate along the distance of your legs, grabbing at your calves to rest them on his broad shoulders. Even the slightest shift forward from his hips stretches you wide, a delicious ache creating a craving for more.

“Tell me how bad you want it, Mari, tell me how much you wanna have my baby.”

Joel’s gripping his length, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. The notches against your clit quiver the already stretched muscles in your thighs, whines replacing words coming out of your mouth.

“Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want, mi amor.”

“I want it so bad, J. I wanna feel you fuck me so full of you, and I don’t want that feeling to leave. I feel like there’s an emptiness and only you can fill it, I want your baby. Wanna have everyone know how good I am for you, carrying your baby like you want me to. I wanna have a part of you forever,” you gasp out the last word, Joel’s cock inching into you. Muscle memory takes over, your whole body relaxing with the knowledge that he’ll take care of you — he’ll always take care of you.

Joel bottoms out easily, filling you to the hilt before he pauses to take a breath. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, sweet and sincere, while holding your shins, “I fucking love you, mi Mariposa. Wanna give you a baby…”

“Pleasepleaseplease—” You don’t know if you’re begging more for him to give you what you want or to move his hips, but in the end, you get both.

Joel starts out slow, shallow thrusts keeping him inside of you. Grunts from the controlled movements fill the room, your small whimpers following each noise he makes. The sound of him fucking into your cunt captures his attention, gaze zeroed in on where you two meet. Watching the stretch of your tight pussy around his cock, he feels the burning desire for more. To watch you take it deeper, harder.

The next snap of his hips is just that - smacking his skin against your ass before he adjusts, laying you back completely on the mattress and leaning over you. Your legs are still hooked over his shoulders, the burning of your muscles now straining your hamstrings and glutes. His entire body folds you, his head hovering over yours as he fucks into you further. The tip of his cock kisses your womb, the force of his thrusts driving your hips open more for him.

“Gonna — fuck — gonna make you a momma, Mariposa. That what you want? Get fucked so well, be so full of me that we make a baby? Everybody’s gonna know I treat my wife right. With your round belly…swollen—ah—swollen tits. Gonna be so beautiful, and so fucking sensitive everywhere.”

His words only add onto the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, nearly verging on too far and too much. Moans exhale on your lips, his name repeated like a chant with each harsh snap of him into you. Your hands scramble for purchase as his sheer power drives you up the mattress, sheets scratching against your bare back. One set of fingers dig into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, nails pressing crescent shapes like an iron-hot branding.

Above you, Joel studies how your mouth has fallen open, thoughts completely left your mind with how cockdrunk you are. He gingerly grips your chin, holding it to face him and commanding your eyes to his as he pants heavily.

“What d’you wanna make me, baby?” It’s only met with the sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you, the slap of skin as you gasp under him. “C’mon, Mari baby, use your words.”

“A daddy,” you breathe out, your opposite hand combing into his messy curls and gripping tight.

“Say it again. Dime.” Not thinking it was possible, Joel pushes you further, hitting into you harder with each thrust nudging his tip toward your cervix. You might only leave this afternoon with soreness, but you continued to hold out hope for a baby to be the well-worth prize for how you’re going to feel tomorrow.

“A daddy!”

“Dime. Dime. Dime,” he commands and you listen, writhing under him as he hacks away at your shared resolve, throwing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy — oh, fuck, a daddy. Wanna make you a daddy!” You’re yelling at this point, sobs of pleasure wracking your body and you thank god for a split second that the two of you are home alone in the middle of the work day. Surely the whole block might be hearing all of your wanton sounds.

“God, I could get used to you calling me that, Mari baby,” Joel groans and throws his head back, bearing his teeth as he punches his hips into your clenching pussy, the telltale sign that you’re close.

“C’mon, mi amor, give it to me. Come for me and I’ll let your fucking pussy milk me for every last drop. That’s what you want, right? Gotta fill you up and make a baby for my Mari baby.” He’s rambling as you reach your peak, toes curling and coming even harder than your first one this afternoon.

A near scream pulls itself from as deep as your gut, the sound as if you were in more pain than the absolute pleasure you feel. Your grip on his hair tightens, drawing him down for a messy kiss as you mumble against his lips.

“Please gimme a baby, J. Need it all inside of me, please. Come for me, mi esposo.”

The name sends goosebumps across his shoulders and trickles down his spine before he’s barking your name once and spilling into you, painting your walls with each rope. He takes a moment to breathe before he gently presses his hips in a few short thrusts, fucking his spend as far into you as possible.

Joel collapses against your torso, no other efforts exerted to move away. Delicate, nimble touches brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he hums contently.

“Fuck, baby, might just have to stay inside. Keep you plugged up so I can stay here all day with you.” Quiet, breathless laughter leaves your lips as you shake your head, tracing along his jaw before he turns his head to press his lips into your tummy.

“Can’t wait for you to be a momma. Gonna be the best one ever, y’already are. Love you so much.”

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, only to be reminded of Joel’s limited schedule when his cell starts ringing from downstairs. Getting up with a groan, he slips out of you and lifts your hips, stuffing a pillow or two underneath them to keep your lower half elevated. You roll your eyes at the superstitious gesture, gasping when his fingers push into you once more to put his leaking come back into where it belongs.

“Gotta make sure it takes, pretty girl. Wanna see you get all round with my baby in you. Everybody’ll know how good I am to you, huh? Pumping you full of me so much we made a new fucking life…better stay like this until I get home again, Mari baby. Wanna make sure those lil swimmers get all the help they can get.”

“Mm…” you hum, hands grabbing for him to lean over you again. Sneaking a kiss, you pull away to whisper to him with a grin on your lips, “Better get back to work…daddy.”

He snorts out a laugh, beaming a bright smile as mischief glimmers in his eyes, “Mal. Mala chica. (Bad. Bad girl.)”

Three days late. You’ve been tracking your cycle like a mad woman, ticking off days in the notebook next to your bed, and now you’re officially three days late. Joel and you had agreed to wait a few days after you expected your period, hopeful that the extra time meant a more accurate, and desired, result.

The kitchen timer sitting on Joel’s side of the bed ticks away while you side on the edge of the bed. Tapping your fingers against your thighs, bare skin against your fingertips from the high hem of your denim shorts. Joel paces the room, eyes focused a thousand yards ahead. Anxiety and anticipation had been plaguing both of you all day, work slugging by minute by minute, second by second. Joel had left the jobsite as soon as was acceptable, leaving Tommy to wrap up, and swung by the pharmacy to pick up a new box of tests. Your task for the day was to chug water, or any liquid, all afternoon — by the time Joel was one foot through the door, you were ready to burst. Snatching the bag of tests out of his hand, you ran to the bathroom to pee in a plastic disposable cup and stick at least three tests in.

Now, you two are waiting for more seconds and minutes to tick by, added to the tally of the entire day. As you’re about to stand and stop Joel from burning treads in the area rug from walking his tight circles, a trill of a bell vibrating demands your attention. Turning off the noise in a flash, you stand and cross the room to where your husband is now frozen in place. A gentle touch to his cheek, his eyelids flutter close and he takes a long exhale before opening them again.

“Ready?” you ask, uncertainty pitching your voice up.

A minute nod, one shake of his chin, Joel’s hand finds the small of your back as he responds, “Ready, mi amor.”

His hand guides you into the bathroom, and a handful of steps from the three tests laid out on the counter, you turn around, panic twisting your expression. Joel stumbles to stop his collision with you, large palms grabbing onto your biceps to catch himself.

“M’scared, J…” Your voice is meek, cracking with emotion. This is the last shot you gave yourselves, whatever is laid on the counter either means unbridled joy or a long road of poking and prodding in countless doctors’ offices.

The warmth of his hands rubbing your arms and the press of his lips to your forehead coax you to relax, to take deep breaths, “I know, Mari baby, I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared too. But no matter what is on those tests, we’re in it together, right sweet girl?”

His index finger hooks under your chin to draw your attention up to his face, a small smile filled with love and reassurance stretching his lips.

“Always in it together, J.” You take another deep breath, turning around and nodding shortly, “Okay, now m’ready.”

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles before he’s following right behind you again, the two of you pressing yourselves to each other against the counter. Joel has an iron grip on your hips, nerves manifesting in the squeezes of his hands. Shaking fingers turn over each test before picking them all up to your lines of vision.

Two lines. Two bold lines screaming at both of you, across all three tests.

Positive.

Positive. You’re pregnant. You and Joel are having a baby.

“Holy shit…” Joel exhales behind you, smile creeping into his voice. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter as he turns you around, “Holy shit! You’re pregnant, Mari. We’re havin’ a baby! You’re gonna be a momma!”

Giddiness overcomes both of you, happy and disbelieving laughter while you hold each other in a tight embrace. Joel litters kisses around your face, catching your lips last — all teeth and tight lipped from your matching grins.

“You’re gonna be a dad again, how’s that feel?”

“Like I won the damn lottery, mi amor.”

Another kiss, supple and heavy. Joel pulls away first and shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you so fucking much, Mari.”

“I love you too, J.”

“You ready to go, Sare?” you ask, standing next to her seat at the kitchen table where she’s working away at her homework, reaching a hand out to play with her curls. She smiles and nods, writing down one last answer to a question on her worksheet before she lays her pencil down and stands up, rushing over toward the door.

“Just gotta get my shoes on!” she calls out, and you smile, shaking your head.

“Take your time, sweet pea! God knows it’s gonna take me longer to walk over to the door.” Your joke falls on deaf ears of your husband, who stands at the kitchen island and rolls his eyes before he’s crossing the room over to you. Within arm’s length, his hands cup the bottom of your large belly, leaning in for a sweet peck.

“Nobody cares if you move slow. Better to be careful than—”

“Careless, yes, I know. I think those might be our baby’s first words since they hear them so much from their dad,” you tease and he shrugs, kissing you again while his touch wanders across the flannel of his that you’re sporting, too tired to buy more maternity clothes that you’ll grow out of and opting for his closet every morning.

“Jus’ looking out for my girls. All three of ‘em.” He beams proudly, brown eyes shining brightly before he turns you in his arms, accompanying you to the front door where your near-teenager is waiting. Ever the sweetheart she is, she’s got your purse slung on her shoulder, car keys in hand to pass off to you. You thank her quietly, turning back to Joel as he looks between the two of you.

“Alright, have fun with your girls’ day. And call if you need anything — either of you. I’ll be waitin’ here for ya.” Joel smooths down Sarah’s hair before kissing the crown of her head; she squirms away, the teenage attitude rearing its head in some early moments, especially with her dad. There’s less patience for him, which you completely understand as a teenage girl once yourself. He huffs out a sigh as she slips out the door, heading down the front path toward your car.

“Hey, s’nothing. Teenage girl things. She loves you, and you’re the best dad.” A hand on his cheek coaxes him down to your lips, a supple kiss exchanged before he pulls away and bends to kiss the top of your belly.

“Bye, my little June Bug.” He stands upright again and steals another kiss, mumbling, “And bye, mi Mariposa. Drive safe, let me know if you need anything while you’re out. I love you.”

“We love you too. And m’speaking for the moody one, too.” Joel chuckles and rubs your bump once more before sending you on your way, watching and waving from the door as y’all drive away.

The plan for today had come about when you started to notice Sarah growing quieter, retreating to her room more often after family dinners and denying the chance at movie night some days. Joel had noticed too, but was a bit nervous to broach it with her, not wanting to make her feel bad about being more independent.

Your relationship with her though was much different to Joel’s. There was the foundation of your caretaking role with her, much more of a friend with authority when it was only you two before you were anything close to a parental figure. More open and, well, you could relate more to what she was going through. She confided in you first about girls at school being catty, about her growing crushes on boys in her grade. And this year, only a month after your due date, she will officially become a teenager. It was a strange time in any girl’s life, full of growing pains.

And on top of all of that, add on a new baby arriving. Attentions drawn elsewhere, priorities shifted to preparing for the baby. Sarah never fell to the backburner in your minds, but you didn’t know how she was feeling. Guessing by her quiet actions, you could tell she was feeling left out but didn’t want to stir up trouble.

Always the sweet girl. And you knew how that was.

So, you’d asked her for a girls’ day, excluding her dad from the fun and giving both of you some time with each other to feel like it was years before. It was all about Sarah today, no mentions of baby — no buying diapers or supplies or clothes. A promise made to yourself to make Sarah feel special, because that is exactly what she was. The baby on the way may be your first biological child, but nothing can compare to the unique bond that you have with your Sare Bear.

The day was spent waddling throughout the mall, helping her pick out new outfits and shoes for the end of the school year. Collecting a haul, you two stopped off for lunch and a trip to the nail salon before you finally made your way back home in the evening. Sarah was smiling brightly in the passenger seat, joking around with you and eagerly telling you all about the latest school drama. Your heart was about to burst with how much she’d come out of her shell again all day, even wanting to show off her new things to her dad when you both got back.

In the living room, Joel greets you two from the couch, eyes widening and a low whistle leaving his lips when he sees the damage done, “Quite some shoppin’ there, Bug. Y’all buy out the whole store?”

You wave him off and encourage Sarah to show off her haul, walking over to settle onto the sofa next to Joel. The younger Miller excitedly starts pulling out pieces and showcasing them, excitedly telling her dad exactly where she plans to wear them. His hand rests on your leg, attention completely focused on his daughter in front of him, squeezing you gently when she gets particularly worked up over something. You can tell he feels what you were in the car, heart bursting that she seems like herself again after a day spent with you.

“That’s nice, Sare Bear. I like the color,” Joel comments on the last shirt Sarah holds up, her smile still beaming as she tosses it back into the bag.

“Thanks, Mom actually picked it out! I thought it would be fun to have for camp this year, since I’m gonna start the counselor training program…” Her voice trails off as Joel listens intently. You, on the other hand, take deep breaths to hold it together, the simple moniker rolling off of Sarah’s tongue so naturally. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, and baby Miller kicks her feet against your tummy — equally as excited.

You manage to keep it calm while Sarah recaps the rest of the day before she gathers up her shopping bags to take to her room. As she’s leaving the room, she’s quick to run over and give you a hug, leaning down to meet you where you sit on the couch. Your belly sticks out between the two of you, but regardless you pull her into a tight squeeze as she says thank you. Her curls bounce as she scampers off upstairs, the quiet sounds of her feet in the hallway queuing your watery eyes to overflow and for your nose to sniffle. Joel is grinning brightly next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you against him as he wipes the few happy tears away.

“She called me Mom…” you whisper to your husband, afraid to admit it any louder as if it would disappear.

Joel presses his forehead against yours, a sweet kiss against your lips before he whispers back, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know she feels that way about you.”

“I just…I feel so lucky. And maybe it’s hormones, but oh my god, I can’t stop blubbering. I’m a mom.”

“You’re the best mom. Have been to Sarah since she met you, and you’re going to be the best mom to our little one on the way.”

June 21st, 2009.

The first day of summer.

It’s the first day of summer and you’re stuck inside. Not at home, no, you’re currently propped up in a hospital bed with your legs in stir-ups, breathing in between contractions. Exhaustion weighs on your body, a full hour passing of you pushing in time with the pain in your abdomen that radiates all over. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and Joel sitting next to you brushes it out of the way. His other hand is limp in yours, ready to be squeezed with a vice grip whenever you need to push. Joel leans over you in level with your head, lathering on encouragements.

“You got this, Mari.”

“So strong, baby. You can do it.”

“Thank you, mi amor, thank you thank you thank you.”

The last one comes after a string of complaints against him doing this to you — despite you both knowing you begged for it nine months prior — and for having such a big head in his own baby photos that he had to have passed down to the baby.

Another wave kicks in, your doctor and nurses coaching you to give another final push. Putting every last bit of your energy behind the flex of your muscles, groaning out with pain and frustration before a piercing cry fills the room. Heavy, tiny sobs ring in your ears.

“You did it, baby, m’so proud of you. Our little girl,” Joel says in awe, glancing between you and where the doctor holds your little baby girl, summoning Dad over to cut the cord.

She’s taken away to be cleaned up and Joel returns to your side, ready to help you attentively through the afterbirth. You wave him off, begging him to go keep an eye on your little girl. Once she’s clean enough, the nurses lay her on your bare chest, the sight of her tiny fingers and toes bringing about your own cries. Your hands hold her there, delicate touches brushing against her soft skin and her damp but full head of dark brown hair.

The rest of the process is painful but smoother, shorter. Before you know it, all tests are done and Joel is next to the bed again, wiping a damp cloth across your forehead.

A rush of adrenaline, pure unfiltered need and excitement to meet your daughter keeps you awake, sitting up carefully as you accept her into your arms from your husband who’s wearing the biggest smile. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on your leg as you study the features on her small face.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she, Mari? Looks like her momma.”

You beam, shaking your head as you place a fingertip against her nose, “See, I think she looks like her daddy. Already got the grumpy brow.”

Both of you laugh, your unbridled attention on the tiny bundle in your arms as you gush over her for minutes longer. Joel rubs your leg, drawing your eyes up to him as he asks, “So you think we picked a good name?”

“I think we picked a perfect name. Our ‘S’ girls,” you grin at him before looking down at your little girl, “Skye Isla Miller. I think it suits her perfectly.”

A bit more time is spent between only the two of you and Skye before you’re itching to see your eldest, and for her to meet her little sister. Joel retreats to where Sarah’s in the waiting area with Tommy and Maria, who’s now three months pregnant herself, waving her to come back with him. She nervously enters the room, quiet as a mouse until you reassure her with a smile and welcome her to sit in the bed next to you.

Joel makes the introductions, voice thick with emotion as he stands over his three girls, watching as his first little one meets his second, “Sarah Elena, this is your baby sister, Skye Isla.”

Sarah quietly asks permission to hold her; you lay Skye in her arms carefully, teaching her how to support her head and where to avoid her soft spot. Sarah picks up on it like a natural, adjusting her little sister when she fusses a bit, finally settling into a new set of familiar hands.

“Dad said you did a really good job, Mom. With everything today. S’pretty cool that you brought a whole person into the world…” Sarah glances over at you with a shy smile before addressing both you and Joel, “M’really happy she’s here.”

“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Bug,” Joel beams with pride as he squeezes her shoulder, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He hums as he looks over you three, “Got my Mariposa, my Bug, and my little June Bug. Mi maripositas. Don’t think anything could beat seeing my three girls altogether finally.”

You find yourself observing your family from afar, listening with muffled ears as Joel and Sarah chat about who Skye got what features from. Cheeks aching from smiling, you can’t help but think that this summer was off to the most wonderful start, and that every summer after was only going to get better.

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anton-luvr · 6 months

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Could u do a fic where the reader and Anton are best friends and have a sleepover. By the time they go to sleep it starts to storm and she’s scared of thunder so she asks Anton to sleep with her in bed instead of him sleeping on the couch. So like Anton holding reader and kind of cuddling to calm her down. Reader realizing she likes Anton more than just as a best friend so she kisses and him and he gets all shy but likes it because he likes her too and just kekdowodos really fluffy and cute 🥹💕 Thank you in advance I love your work!!☺️🫶🏻

# MY FAVORITE LOSER.

𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff | best friends to lovers au 𖦹 note ; mwah tysm anon i love you,, also this is ADORABLE... thank u for requesting i hope u like it!! + reqs are closed !

Fun fact: you were terrible at Mario Kart.

Nintendo music accompanied by Anton's laughter echoes across your apartment as he wins the game again, grinning proudly.

"I told you, Princess Peach always wins." he boasts, waving the controller happily.

You scoff, folding his arms. "Hey, Yoshi can win too! Just you wait, I'll win you in the next round." you reason.

But just like the past five games, you don't.

"Just admit I'm better, hm?" Anton suggests, smiling.

You roll your eyes jokingly at how proud your best friend is, gently shoving him.

"Okay, let's not play anymore." you say, exiting the game and setting the controller aside. "How's life?"

Anton's eyes light up at the question, and he quickly sets the controller aside too.

He loved talking to you.

Whether it was a deep conversation about personal struggles or a stupid discussion about the validity of soap (don't ask), Anton knew you would always listen.

Your conversation goes on to the late hours of midnight, with Anton telling you about his upcoming vacation to Korea and you telling him about the random fight you witnessed at your lecture the other day.

By the time he's done talking about the cute cafe he passed by yesterday, it was already past two in the morning.

"And they have really cute cups too! We should go there someday." he says, stifling a yawn.

You nod, eyes drooping shut. "I think we should sleep." you mumble, stretching with a groan. "I only slept for four hours yesterday."

Anton gasps at this, dramatically shaking you by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? You should go to sleep, right now." he scolds.

Chuckling, you get up from the sofa with both of your hands up in the air. "Okay, fine! I'll go to sleep now."

Anton hums at this, pushing you towards your room. "We can talk more tomorrow," he says. "You look like a zombie right now."

He runs away too fast for you to hit him for the insult, giggling as he retreats to the living room. "Goodnight!" he calls out, waving cheekily at you.

"Goodnight!" you call back as you close your bedroom door.

Flopping onto your bed, you let out a happy sigh.

It was nights like these with Anton that made life feel worth living. You're still smiling contentedly to yourself as you get comfortable under the covers, drifting off to dreamland.

Until the roaring sound of thunder snaps you right out of it.

Each flash of light shining through your room made you flinch, the angry raindrops pelting against your windows making panic rise in your chest.

Scrambling out of bed, you run into the living room, almost tripping over your own feet in the process.

"Anton." you whisper nervously, tugging at his hand. "Anton, wake up."

The sleepy boy wakes up in a jolt, frowning in confusion. "H-Huh?" he mumbles, sitting up slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Can you sleep with me? I'm scared." you rambled, gasping in short and nervous breaths.

Even though Anton was half-awake, he immediately agrees.

He stumbles his way into your room and gets under your covers, making sure to pull it over you too.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, voice groggy.

His heart breaks when you shake your head no, eyes filling up with tears.

"Don't cry, it's okay." he says, hugging you. "Just... think of it as the sky farting. That's what I used to tell my brother."

Even though you were almost scared out of your wits, you couldn't help but let out a little snort of laughter.

"Wow, that helps a lot." you deadpan, snuggling closer into his arms.

"I know right?" he giggles, rubbing your back gently.

But it actually does.

The fury of Mother Nature didn't seem so scary anymore at Anton's joke and in the security of his warm embrace.

You realize a lot of things aren't that scary anymore whenever you're with Anton.

Despite the both of you being rather shy and reserved people, he somehow always brought out the best in you.

Just his presence alone gave you confidence and security, knowing that there was always someone there who loved and supported you unconditionally.

From him cheering you on for your nerve-wracking first day of college to him helping you tell the waitress she got your order wrong at the local diner, he had always been there for you.

And even with him being half-awake, he still looked gorgeous.

His eyes sparkled with a love for the world brighter than the stars, the soft smile he flashed you warming your heart up in a way no one else could.

"Thank you." you whisper, looking up at the curly haired boy. Without another word, you kiss him on the cheek.

Anton feels like the world stops when you do so.

All the blood in his body rushes up to his head, the tips of his ears turning as red as apples while he blinks rapidly.

"W-What was that for?" he stutters, avoiding your eye contact.

"For this," you say. "For everything, actually. I think I like you." you admit.

Anton thinks he just might pass out.

Millions of thoughts run through his mind, but he says what he's been wanting to say for a long time.

"Well, what if I told you I liked you too?" he mumbles, finally meeting your eyes.

"You're joking." you mutter, even though you were praying that he wasn't.

"No, I'm not." Anton starts, turning so he could face you better.

"There's no one else I like to spend time with as much as I do with you." he confesses, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ears.

"You're the only one that makes me feel this way, no matter what you do. Even if it's just you losing in Mario Kart for two hours straight."

You open your mouth to argue, but Anton puts a quick end to it when he kisses you, this time on your lips.

"You're my favorite loser." he whispers. "Can you be my loser forever?"

Nodding, you can't help but smile at how corny your best friend - no, your boyfriend - could be.

"I'll be yours forever."

#riize #riize fics #riize fluff #kpop fics #kpop fluff #riize anton #anton riize #anton #riize icons #riize x reader #riize drabbles

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janeyseymour · 7 days

Text

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: Melissa is released from the hospital, meanwhile, JJ is located.

WC: ~1.65k

The little boy ends up falling asleep in the car, adrenaline leaving his body and pure exhaustion setting in. When he wakes up, he wakes up to nearly being thrown out of the seat of the car again. This time though, the seatbelt catches him, and while it burns like hell on his neck- because he shouldn’t be in the car without the seatbelt, he does not repel forward. He slams back into his seat with a loud yelp, and he hears a loud bang.

Joe just crashed the car. Joe just crashed the car into a tree on one of the back roads he was taking, and the airbags deployed- saving his life. With the fire-retardant that comes out of the airbag in a big cloud, they’re both coughing, gasping for breath. Neither of them are found by the time the sun comes up.

Almost as soon as day breaks, Melissa is awake, and hellbent on getting out of the hospital. She cannot lay here idly by while her four year old son is God knows where with her jackass of an ex-husband.

“I do not care!” she’s shouting at you. She winces is pain, but she doesn’t let the aching in her ribs put out her fire. “We have to find JJ!”

“What we have to do is get you to recount what happened last night, and then I need to find out how I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover,” you tell her as you lay a hand over hers.

“When are they going to get here?!” the redhead shouts.

“Hun, it’s…” you glance over at the clock. “6:45 in the morning. Give it time, and try to get another hour’s sleep, because once we get out, you won’t be getting the rest you need to anyway.”

She, in a fit of rage, slams her hand down on the call button on the remote attached to her bed. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at that action- so defiant. You wonder how she’s a second grade teacher sometimes, and this is a prime example.

The nurse comes in, and you just give her a sympathetic look as she’s yelled at in both English and Italian.

When the nurse leaves, somewhat terrified of what she just witnessed, Melissa just taps away on her phone before answering a call.

“Tommy, you better get your ass over here now to take my damned statement before I rip you a new one,” is what she hisses into the phone.

“Mel,” you grumble as you open one eye to look at her sleepily.

She just rolls her eyes and continues on her tirade in her second language. You don’t understand any of the words she’s saying, but you do know that she’s all but threatening this man’s life if he isn’t here in a flash.

And he is. Melissa gives her statement while the doctor comes in and explains to you her recovery plan.

“Three broken ribs is no joke, but there’s also unfortunately not a lot that we can do to help the healing process along,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. “For the first few days, icing it will help. As ridiculous as it sounds, we usually do recommend a frozen bag of peas because they’re easy to move and manipulate.”

You nod, taking notes on your phone.

“She shouldn’t sit or lay for extended periods of time, sleep sitting upright for the first few days- it’s best for her to keep moving when possible to help her breathe and clear the mucus from her lungs. If she has to cough, she should not suppress it. It will be painful for her, but we do suggest holding a pillow to her chest while she does to help absorb some of the blow. If we can prevent a chest infection, we should. And when her son is located, she should refrain from holding him as much as possible- straining herself is only going to make the recovery time that much longer.”

“How long is recovery time?”

“With the damage he did to her? I’d say four to six weeks, but that would only be if she’s taking care of herself. What does she do for work?”

“She’s a second grade teacher,” you sigh.

The doctor frowns, lines drawn into his forehead. “So I guess I should write her a doctor’s note to excuse her from work for the next few-”

“She’ll never agree to that,” you tell him. “She’s a single mother who is just doing her best to make it all work, and I can guarantee that she will want to leave her kids for that long.”

“If she’s constantly straining herself at work-”

“I can get attempt to get her to agree to teach from her chair,” you argue. “But that’s probably the best I can do.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” the doctor reluctantly agrees.

Meanwhile, JJ has woken up and is in the backseat crying, Joe passed out, who’s to say whether that be from the accident or the alcohol in his system, when a kinder gentleman who occupies the land takes note of the truck on his property. He slowly approaches it, but upon hearing the little boys wails, he picks up his pace, calling for his wife.

The woman runs up alongside of him, also speeding up when she hears the little boys loud cries. They glance into the car, and while the older man clocks the open bottle of vodka right away, the woman’s eyes go right to the little boy cowering in the backseat.

“Oh my god, Jerry,” JJ can hear. He all but curls into the backseat, terrified that whoever this is might take him even further from his momma. The door opens, and the little boy can feel a warm hand on his back- on that reminds him of his nonna’s. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

JJ looks up, tears still pouring over his face, a thick trail of snot falling from his nose and into his mouth. “I want Momma!”

“Okay, honey,” the woman says softly. “We’ll get you to your momma. Can you tell me your name?” When he doesn’t respond, she says as gently as she can, “I’m Bev, this is my husband Jerry.”

“JJ,” is all the little boy offers up. She gives her husband a look and mouths, ‘9-1-1’. He trails a little further up the driveway to make the call.

“Is JJ your nickname?” Bev asks him. He nods. “What does it stand for?”

“Joe Jr.”

“And how old are you, sweetheart?”

“Four,” he whimpers out, but he holds up three fingers. The little one uncurls just slightly.

“Can I pick you up?” At JJ’s nod, she smiles softly and lifts him out of the seat. He cries out in pain at his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers.

“Daddy pulled my arm,” JJ reveals softly. He lays his head on the woman’s shoulder, hoping to find some warmth and comfort- any warmth and comfort.

Jerry walks back up to the two. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

It’s a bit later that the police along with an ambulance show up and speak with the elderly couple and JJ. The older couple insists on riding to the nearest hospital with the little boy and his father.

Upon getting there, they ask the little boy basic questions.

“What’s your name?… How old are you?… Do you know these people that brought you here?… What happened?”

While all of this is happening, a few others work on Joe- and they find his license. Joseph Schemmenti… that name sounds-

“Is this the man that kidnapped his son after beating the living shit out of his ex-wife?” one of the cop’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god,” another gasps softly.

“Melissa,” you say softly as you drive the two of you back to your apartment complex.

“I. Am. Fine,” she grits out as she holds an icepack- one from the hospital, to her body. “I don’t even care right now. I just need to find JJ.”

“And we will,” you promise her. “We will find him.”

The redhead in the passenger seat starts to crack as she looks over to you. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

You take a shaky breath at that before uttering the words, “It won’t be.” She can tell that you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as you’re attempting to convince her.

By the time that they’re able to locate where the little boy is with the elderly couple, JJ’s shoulder has been set into place, they’ve tended to the burns from the seat belt, and Melissa has been contacted.

“Tommy, you better have-”

“We found him and Joe in a small town out by Lancaster,” the officer gets out quickly. “They’re at Lancaster General Hospital.”

The redhead nearly jumps off the couch, and you have to catch her as she stumbles. “Y/N! they have JJ! In Lancaster! We have to-“ she wheezes for breath, gripping at her ribs. “We have to go!”

“That- that’s over an hour away,” you tell her. “You can’t possibly make that trip right now- not in your-”

“We’ll be there,” Melissa says quickly into the phone before hanging up. She’s grabbing her keys and slipping her shoes on before you can get another protest out.

“You are not driving,” you practically rip the keys out of her hand. “And you are not-”

“This is my son we are talking about!” the woman shouts at you. “I do not care!”

Knowing you aren’t going to win this fight, you grab a pillow and guide her out to the car slowly.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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luimagines · 10 months

Note

Ooh! I remembered the idea that fell out of my head!

A sequel to the “boys lost a bet” one where Reader figured them out after watching their attempts at flirting. Reader then decides to attempt to fluster them until they confess (even if it takes weeks) or in poor Sky’s case until they decide they’ve messed with him enough since he accidentally confessed during his attempt.

- Glitter, slowly recovering from surprise and having fun spamming your inbox in between bits of homework ✨

OOoooooo!! Cute idea! I'm on it!

I’m also... going to take a few creative liberties here and just say that it’s after the event. Mostly because it’s not going to be that way for a few boys. A.k.a I already had it written before I reread your request and realized that it didn’t quite fit in.

Masterlist

You can read the first part right here.

Content under the cut!

Sky

When you left to finish up your patch work, Sky made his way back to the game. He seemed to sway on his feet somewhat with a bright, if dim witted, smile on his face.

Sky collapsed on the ground next to Wild and sits criss cross apple sauce. His jaw lands in his hands without opening his eyes. “So... I did it.”

“We saw.” Hyrule blinks owlishly. “I didn’t think that would happen.”

“You weren’t the only one.” Warrior rubs his jaw and stares at the number he’s just rolled. “Not where I thought the odd would lie to be honest.”

Sky giggles, too happy and giddy to be of much help to anyone. “Is it my turn again?”

“Uhhhh...” Wild picks up the dice. “I think it’s mine? We all stopped to watch you fall on face. But you didn’t do that.”

“I didn’t do that.” Sky agree happily.

Wild looks around for anyone who is willing to stop him from taking his turn but no one does. “I’m betting fifteen rupees for anything higher than a eight.”

“Twenty for anything lower than eight!” Four leans forward already back in the game.”

Wind cackles just under his breath. “Forty for anything lower than four.”

The blacksmith gives him a dirty look.

Time says nothing, not willing to bet anything this round. He was glad on two accounts that Sky lost the previous roll. For one, it obviously went very well for the young lad and Time is glad that it worked out in the end. But the second reason speaks a little louder in the back of his head. Time had bet just one above Sky. It saved him from losing the bet and taking the punishment.

The Old Man nudges Sky with his elbow and gestures with his head away from the group.

Sky smiles back easily and gets up without complaint. Which is more than what Time’s joints can say.

“You wanted to talk?”

Time leans against a tree and raises an eyebrow. “And what were expecting to come out of that when you went?”

Sky’s face lights up in a blush again. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head but he can still save if. He can play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

Ok, maybe not. Sky grins awkwardly. “I was thinking I would trip over myself , look like an idiot and then they’d laugh and wave me away.”

“And what happened?” Time asks, as if he wasn’t watching with one hundred percent of his attention like the rest of the group was.

Sky’s blush darkens and he toes the dirt beneath his boot. “I got a kiss out of it.”

Time smiles like a proud father. “What else?”

“I may have... told them that I like them... and they said they liked me too.” Sky admits quietly.

“Good. I was wonder when you two were going to catch on and do something about it.”

Sky’s head snaps up to face Time head on, embarrassment completely foregone to make room for the shock that followed. “...What?...”

Time gets off of the tree and reaches forward, patting Sky on the head and ruffles his hair for good measure. “You’re good kids. I’m happy for you.”

“...What?...”

“Just don’t do anything to get the both of you in trouble at the end of the day.”

“Wait, Time you KNEW?!?”

Twilight

Twilight waited just as you told him to. He didn’t even think of moving. He couldn’t think. Period.

You had somehow managed to put his entire thought process on halt.

He couldn’t hear that you were saying to the others guys but when you returned, you had a blinding smile and you clapped in delight. Twilight couldn’t help but feel happy on your behalf. “Did it all go well?”

“I oh so happened to clear your schedule for tomorrow in the process.” You inform him, looking rather proud of yourself.

“Did you now?” He raises an eyebrow. Now Twilight knows that feels better. Because the words comes easy and the conversation isn’t that different than it would have been that morning or the day before.

“Yes.” You sit down next to him and unhesitatingly put your head on his shoulder. “I would very much like to occupy that time slot if you’d let me.”

Twilight freezes. He’s been chosen. He can not so much as move a muscle or else if would throw you off. Like being a cat’s chosen spot for a nap, you mustn’t move. It’s illegal.

“Do you have something in mind?” Twilight speaks on baited breath. He might be able to think of something to fill the time. If you’re asking to spend time with just him, then there’s many things that Twilight can think of to entertain you. There’s no corner of his heart that he wouldn’t turn over just to make you smile for a fraction of a second.

“Not really.” You admit and turn your head to look over at him. “Do you have any ideas? I’m not picky.”

Twilight hums, slowly wrapping his arm around you. Is this ok? Would you push him off? Well, you put yourself there, surely this isn’t crossing any boundaries.

“I have a few.” He admits, not wanting to jump on the chance like the excited puppy he feels himself becoming. If he had his tail it would be wagging like crazy.

Sometimes he hates the traits the wolf had brought out of him and then he realize that if anything, the wolf itself was brought out first.

You poke his cheek and grin, startling him from his thoughts. “I mean, you’ve been thinking of stuff for a while now.”

“Well yes, but I was never sure if you wanted-” Twilight pauses and looks over to you. “....Yes. I like spending time with you.”

“Mhm.” You smirk, running your hand over the one that holds you. “Is that all?”

Twilight clears his throat, already feeling his bravado slipping. “What do you mean?”

“So all those little things you’ve done were... oh I don’t know... because you were the hero to save the day?” You looks away. It was possible...But at the same time, if he correct in guessing what you’re talking about... It’s not true.

“I see...” Twilight bite his lip. “And what made you suspect my feelings?”

You seem to relax further into him and sigh. “It had to do with Wolfie. Now I love the dog, he’s a sweetheart and a good boy, but every time you came back and someone mentioned him, you would look at me. Like you were jealous.”

Twilgiht chokes on his spit.

“I couldn’t help but begin to ask myself if it was too good to be true.” You smiles shyly. “And then I asked Warrior and he said it was a clear as day. I didn’t want to take his word for it so I asked Time... who said almost the exact same things.”

“Last time I tell the Old Man anything.” Twilight mutters under his breath.

You laugh. ”So I was just waiting to see if you would do anything about it.”

“And if I never did?” He asks, afraid of the answer. Is it selfish of him? Yes. The right to do would be to move on, no matter if it hurts to hear or not.

“Hey, who just cleared your schedule, you or me?” You push him lightly.

Twilight smiles. “Alright. Then let me show you around tomorrow then.”

“You better.”

Legend

Given his very open and shy way of trying to flirt with you, you didn’t think it was that much of a guess that there was some genuine feeling within it. So you got a bit more liberal with how you interacted with the Hero of Legend.

This did not help him in any way or form.

You had taken to walking closer to him, trying to ease your way into being beside him. When he seemed to be calm enough with your presence you tried talking to him.

That took longer than you thought it would.

It seems that Legend was more self conscious than you thought. Every time it came to you, he would clam up and try to avoid eye contact. Something about the way he flushed bright red each and every time told you that he was still thinking about the bet he lost.

It was cute. If annoying.

But you weren’t about to give up just yet!

When he was able to hold a conversation with you once more, you got a little bit closer.

Until one day you just bit the bullet and grabbed his hand.

Legend jerked it back as if you had burned him and hid it away from you. All conversation had died in that moment. And he was once again avoiding you. It was a miracle that he didn’t straight up run away.

You pout. Well that was disappointing. “Legend... did I do something wrong?”

“N-no.” Legend bites his lip. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry about it anyway. You look at your hand, trying to figure out why he rejected it. “Was there something wrong with my hand?”

“Of course not.” Legend shakes his head, still looking down. “It was very soft.”

“Well you coulda fooled me. You certainly didn’t react that way.” You mutter.

You hadn’t intended for him to hear you, but he flinches. “Sorry.”

Slowly, he pulls his hands back from where they were. “I’m sorry.” He repeats himself. “It was pure reflex.”

“It’s fine.” You sigh, feeling like you might have ruined everything. You keep walking, but this time with your hands kept firmly by your sides.

You both walk in silence for the a few more moments. You’re lamenting internally about your ruined chances and how you might have been wrong this entire time about him.

Legend was also busy kicking himself. Every now and then he would look over your way. He was nervous and feeling dumb. The answer was so simple and so genuine but he was afraid. But of what, he couldn’t tell you.

He knew that there was only one way to really fix this.

He huffed and puffed but managed to bring himself to do it.

Legend reaches over and pinches your sleeve. You hum and look down.

Legend moves his hand and slips his grip over your wrist before it shifts to hold your hand. You hold his back and look over to him with a grin.

He still can’t meet your eyes. “Just warn me next time.”

“Aww~! You do like me.” You swings your hands back and forth with a blinding smile.

“I do.” Legend smiles softly even if he still struggles to meet your eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone else.”

“Right, right.” You giggle. “Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Tough Guy.”

Wind

Wind had been avoiding you a bit after the bet he lost. You didn’t know why. You thought everything was fine but he wasn’t even able to look you in the eye anymore. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

You missed your best friend.... Well your best friend was actually waiting for you to return home but within the group, Wind was your best friend and you missed him.

“Wind won’t talk to me.” You pout as you walk next to Warrior for the day. “I don’t know why.... Is it because I kissed his cheek?”

“Yes.” Warrior replies without missing a beat. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope.” Warrior smiles easily. “He just needs to think some stuff through. But if continues bothering you, you should talk about it.”

You nod, falling silent once more. That made sense.

“Can’t he think faster?” You mutter, not expecting a response for that particular question.

Warrior hears it anyway and laughs. “We’re about to stop for lunch soon. Why not just talk to him then?”

You nod again and wait.

True to his word, Warrior was right to guess that you would get a break soon. You caught up to the ones at the front of the group and waited for those at the back to catch up.

When Wind finally made his way to the group, you b-lines toward him. His somewhat concerned gaze made you slow your step and your confidence tanked.

“Um...” You rubbed your arm, ignoring the stares of the entire group. They seemed incredibly invested in this for some reason. “Link... Can we talk?”

Wind also seemed nervous but he nods, ready to follow where ever you lead him.

When you get far enough from the group, you take in a deep breath hoping that no one followed you. You looked at him and take in the way he fidgets and avoids looking at you head on. He’s already flustered if the pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.

Warrior said to talk to him, but maybe you should have thought about what you wanted to say first. How do you started this?”

“I’m sorry.”

Wind snaps his face to meet your eyes head on. He looks shocked.

“I didn’t mean... Did I make things awkward?” You bite you lip. “Is it my fault?”

“Oh... Um...No...” Wind looks down again and scratches the back of his neck. “You didn’t make things awkward.”

“Well I feel awkward.” You admit. “You don’t talk to me. You run away from me. And I think it’s because I kissed your cheek... So... I’m sorry.”

“That’s not-!” Wind chokes on his spit. He jumped to correct you but had breathed down the wrong pipe in the process. He starts coughing up a storm and you pat his back to try and soothe the pain that no doubt forms. “That’s not it.”

You frown. All the signs point to that you made him uncomfortable. Shouldn’t you apologize for it? It’s technically your fault that you’re here. You tell him as such.

“No, no...” Wind flusters further. “I was trying to not make you feel uncomfortable.”

You don’t understand what he’s trying to get at. ”...What?”

Wind bite his lips. his eyes dart back and forth and you see he’s two seconds from pacing back and forth. “I just-! It was.... cute.. and nice... and soft..” His voice tapers off into a whisper the more he speaks. “I liked it more than I thought I would... and I didn’t want to make things weird by wanting to do it myself.”

You think you understand less. “...What?”

Wind groans and kisses your cheek without asking. “There. I did it. That’s what.”

You freeze- feeling your own blush form. Your finger tips go to touch the spot before you explode into giggles. “Oh... that’s not so bad.”

Wind acts like he just got smacked. “...It’s not?”

“Warrior was right.”

“... don’t say that. Ever again.”

You laugh louder and take his hand. “You’re silly.”

“I know.”

“But it was nice.” You grin and begin to lead him back to the group. “Now stop avoiding me, ok? I miss you.”

“I think I can do that.”

Warrior

“Warrior, calm down.” Four puts his hands out to placate the other boy. “What did they even say?”

“For me to know and you to never find out.” Warrior grins, tossing a solid red rupee on the growing pile of bets. “Take my cut. I bet a seven.”

“What does that have to do with-”

“Thank you! Be back soon!” He hollers, doing his best to run back to you now that he knows you’re waiting for him.

When he returns, you waiting with your hands on your hips and a unknown gleam in your eye. You seem to know what you’re doing. Warrior feels drawn to your gaze and he forces himself to slow down. “Ok, what is it?”

You grin and turn on your heel, not giving him a verbal response. You gesture your fingers in a come hither motion and Warrior follows like the sap he is.

You lead him away form the group, further into the tree line and away from both prying eyes and sensitive ears.

You turn to Warrior and wiggle your eyebrows.

Not sure how to take this change in developments, Warrior finds himself flustered but eager. Still, your change in demeanor is intriguing and hot. He blushes deeply.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what I have planned.” You say calmly, steeping into his personal space.

He gulps. “Yes.”

“And I’m sure you’re wondering if this has anything to do with what you very bravely decided to say to my face not too long ago.” You grin putting your hands on his forearms.

“Maybe.” He licks his lip unthinkingly. You’ve pinned his arms to his side. He’s willing trapped himself to you. Warrior has no idea where you’re going with this, but you have his full attention.

“And I’m also sure that you’ve been watching me a for a while now.” Your hands travel up his his arms and over chest. You’re being very brave yourself if you had to be honest.

You’re purposefully going slow. Warrior assumes it’s just to be even more tantalizing than you already are and it’s making him inpatient. But you’re really just testing the waters of how far he’ll let you go.

“Was I that obvious?” Warrior places his hand on your hips now that you’ve freed them. He pulls you flush against him.

“Maybe.” You’re eyes go wide with desire. Perhaps you’re the one he’s been waiting for this whole time.

Your hands travel up his chest and rest on his shoulders. Warrior leans into your face. Your noses brush together in an hesitant dance.

You can find it in yourself to grow bashful as Warrior has. You lean into it as well, running your hands even higher, cradling his head as you go. He hums in satisfaction. “...Admittedly I’m less certain about this.”

“About what?” He says quietly, slowly swaying with you in his arms.

“This. Us.” You reply in the same quiet tone.

“...And why’s that?” He’s calm even as he trouble looking you in the eye.

You have to think about it. This feels right. This feels good. Why is that you feel like something is missing?

“I can wait.” Warrior says after a moment of your silence. “I’ll always wait for you.”

You hum for a moment longer. You don’t want that.

You kiss him.

Hyrule

“Oh Hyruule~” You called, borderline skipping to his side.

You needn’t say anything else. Hyrule is already blushing before a single words leaves your lips.

The image seems to make you giggle and come close. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Hyrule smiles back at you but he struggles to meet your eyes. He hates how flustered he’s gotten around you. As if he couldn’t be more obvious.

“How are you today?” You take his arm and start walking with him.

Hyrule doesn’t know how exactly to deal with this turn of events. He’s already starting to lose his nerve, “I’m fine.”

You both walk in comfortable silence after that. At least, he’s sure that you think it’s comfortable since you smile never left your face. Hyrule can feel his nerves jump all over his skin and he’s not sure how he’s going make a fool out of himself this time.

“I’ve bene thinking.” You say and Hyrule gives you his attention without questions.

“About what?”

“A while ago you came to me and called me angle.” You smile up at him. “Remember that?”

As if he’s allowed himself to forget about it. Although he felt his insides curl up and die from the embarrassment, you had kissed his cheek. Even if he still cringes at the thought of his awkwardness, he had to admit, it was worth it.

“I do.” He admits. He remembers the entire thing beat for beat. It’s the only thing he can think of as of late.

“I still think you were very sweet.” You lean you head against him.

Hyrule’s heart starts to beat faster. He hopes you don’t notice. “Than you? I think?”

“Can I tell you something in return?” You give him a dazzling smile in return. Hyrule nods, unable to form words any longer. You poke his cheek. “I think that you’re a very good person. I want you to know that you’re very important to me. And that I like you very much.”

Hyrule nods, biting his lip harshly. Does he say he likes you back? Isn’t that just confessing? But you said you liked him. As friends, he’s sure.

“You’re overthinking.” You pout. “I just said that I like you and you’re not going to say anything.”

“Uh... I like you to.” Hyrule strangles out. “You’re important to me too. I treasure you.”

You pause and grin. “In that case, would you be willing to go with me to town tonight? I heard that had a great place to get some food at and I wanted to try it.”

His heart melts. You’re so precious. “Of course. I’d love to go with you.”

You jump in place excitedly and move in to kiss his cheek again. “Great! It’s a date!”

You dash away with wink and a throw of your hips. Hyrule watches you move away from him. He’s vaguely ware that his jaw is open and that he pays a little to much attention to the way you move, but you’ve once again mamabged to catch him off guard.

He thinks he loves you.

A sigh leaves his lips before he can stop himself. How can he deny you of anything? If you wanted him to go with you to into town he would have done so in a heart beat- wait-

Date?!

Time

Something changed between you and Time after that day.

At first you didn’t want to think too much about it. Your crush on the man wasn’t going to get in the way of being peaceable with him So what if he called you pretty and lovely. It have to mean anything. And you’re sure that it was because of that dumb game the boys were playing anyway.

But he’s taken to... being a little more physical with you.

It’s subtle but you’re almost certain that you’re almost always within arms reach of the man.

When you’re walking, he’s there ever so slightly brushing your hand with his as you walk. If you eating, you’re next to him- almost thigh to thigh. You think you’re even sleeping closer to him nowadays.

The thought makes your mouth go dry.

To make matters worse you think that your crush is only growing more and more obvious. Does he know? Is that why he’s doing this? Or are you doing this? That’s a mortifying thought.

“Wait.” Time stops you from going forward.

You freeze in place and looks up at him. “Yes?”

He smiles and leans downwards, reaching just a bit top pluck a wayward leaf from your shirt. The gently tug by your side causes you to hold your breath. Time doesn’t seem to notice the way you hitch your breath. “You had a straggler.”

“Thank you.” You take the leaf, brushing you fingertips with his. He tilts his head, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome.”

Time smiles and turns to leave.

You can’t take much more of this tip toe game. You need to get to the bottom of it. Either he takes further or he ceases entirely. You’re heart is going to combust if nothing changes.

“Link.” You grab his hand. “Can I ask you something?”

Now it’s his turn to freeze. “Of course.”

“You once called me pretty.”

“I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“I did.”

“You once called me lovely.”

“I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

I did.”

You stomp your foot and pull him towards you. You’re entirely sure why you did it. “Why?” You ask him. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

That seems to throw time for a loop. you think you catch his eyeline dip to where your lips ear instead of looking you in the eye. “Because it’s true.”

“And the boys didn’t tell you to do that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“That would be cruel.” Time says. “I may have lost the game that day but I have been tell you that for a while now.”

“Do you mean that?” You lean into his space.

He looks away. You can see the way his jaw clenches.

“Link.” You press. “Would you have told me that?”

He doesn’t answer as quickly as you’d like.

You let him go and sigh- ignoring the hurt you didn’t know it would cause. “Alright.”

You start to walk away but he pulls you back. It’s rougher than he intends and you crash against his chest. “Please.” He says. “I’m not one to speak easily. I...wanted to... But I don’t know if I ever would without the push.”

You hum and rap your arms around his neck. “In that case...Is this ok?”

He nods and chances a kiss to your forehead. “Is this ok?”

“Absolutely.”

Four

Four was walking on clouds for the rest of the week.

The memory of you kissing his cheek was on replay the entire time. The spot still tingled with the sensation whenever he thought about it. Because of it, he was having harder times concentrating and found himself staring at you from a distance with soft features and smitten gazes.

It was beginning to get on the nerves of those in the know.

“Is anyone going to do something about this?” Hyrule asks quietly, away from ear shot. “He’s been all smiles for days. Was this supposed to happen?”

“Well...” Warrior scratches the back of his head. “Yes and no. Did anyone see up close what they said to him?”

“Nope.”

“I didn’t.”

“Not a clue.”

“I got a picture.” Wild speaks up with an ear to ear grin. “I was hoping someone would notice. I’ve been holding onto this.”

The boy instantly crowd around the boy. “Show us! Show us!” They cry. “We want to know.”

With a smirk, Wild pulls up the photo taken at just the right moment. Your eyes are closed where as Four’s are wide open. Your lips are placed delicately on his cheek. Shock covers the entirety of Four’s face but you couldn’t seem to care less about your actions.

“Oh.” Hyrule clears his throat a bit. “That explains a lot actually.”

Warrior whistles. “No wonder his head has been up in the clouds. I didn’t know the boy scored.”

Wild shuts it off before anyone can get near to see his blackmail treasure. “You’re welcome.”

You jumped next to the boy, startling them all. “Whatcha looking at?”

“AH!” Wild manly screams. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Hyrule snickers at the timing.

“Wild showed us a picture of The Lord of the Mountain, he calls it.” Warrior shrugs, seemingly nonplused by the interruption. “I’ve never seen a creature like it. I wouldn’t be able to tell what it is truly, except a once in a lifetime creature.”

Wild nods in haste. While it was a lie, Wild had shown Warrior a picture of the same creature earlier that week. He licks his lips in an subconscious tell. “Did I show you? I don’t remember.”

You shake your head and lean over to see it.

Wild panics a bit, hoping that you don’t see the picture in the icons in the sides. He pulls it up and you ‘ooo’ and ‘aaa’. “Pretty.”

“Not as much as you.” Four speaks as he passes, not missing a beat.

You jump, not dissimilar to how Wild did moment prior and your attention snaps to the blacksmith as he walks away. “Hey!” You call out, a flushed look to your cheeks. “That’s not fair!”

“But it’s completely true!” He calls back.

“Oh my goodness...” You huff but don’t seem to mind it too much. “He’s been doing this more often even since you all played the stupid game. I have to catch up with him. Very nice, Wild. Thank you for showing me.”

You leave quickly, attempting to catch up with Four. “I can’t believe you, cheater! Didn’t you say that it was only when Legend was nearby-”

“I couldn’t keep myself from being honest.” Four reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together.

The other boys stare in astonishment, watching them get further and further away.

“Oh that’s our fault.” Warrior blinks.

Hyrule and Wild nod in tandem.

“But they look happy at least.”

Wild

You and Wild walk away for a while. Neither of you say anything until you both find a nice clearing amongst the forest flowers.

“Ooh, pretty.” You beam and let go of Wild to pick some of them up.

Wild watches you blissfully, happy that he hadn’t made a total fool of himself. “We can press them in a book, if you’d like?”

You snap your head back to him and nod. “I used to do that back home with my mother. But I had to stop when she got sick.”

“Yeah?” Wild sits down next to you. “Well we can save the flower in my sheikah slate if you’d like. They’d last longer until we can find a good book to use.”

“You’d let me.” You turn to him and lean in close. “Are you sure?”

Wild narrows in on the distance that remains and nods, swallowing hard. “Of course.”

“You’re very kind.” You smile, watching his every reaction. “And you know... I wanted to ask you something.”

You lean away. Wild breathes as if he hadn’t been able to do that the entire time. “What is it?”

“I wanted to know why the boys told you to flirt with me.” You back your smirk.

Wild pales and finds himself falling backwards. Luckily, he was already on the ground. He manages to catch himself before he lose himself. “Um... I don’t know either.”

“I believe you do.” You answer simply. You don’t look at him, too enthralled with the flowers in front of you. “If only you wouldn’t react that way if you were clueless.”

Wild gulps again. “...They... you know how they can be.” He laughs, trying to play it off. “I think they were trying to pull our legs.”

You hum, and begin to braid the flowers together. “And that has nothing to do with you staring at me more and more?”

Wild pales even further, if it was possible. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’m just asking.”

Wild looks away. His blush slowly begins to consume his face. “I can’t help it. You’re just... very pretty... and your skin looks soft... And you are very nice to look at...”

“You’re very nice to look at as well.” You say with a smile, not looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to be obvious.” Wild admits as he scratches the back of his head. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“On the contrary.” You pick up another flower and braid it into your chain. “I quite liked your attention.”

Wild freezes and shifts his vision towards you. “Oh really?”

“Yes.” You say with a smile on your face. “If you haven’t noticed I was trying to look extra pretty whenever you looked my way.”

“Were you now?” Wild leans a little closer to you.

You close the distance and flop backwards. Your head lands in his lap and look up to him with a wide smile. “Absolutely.”

Wild freezes again and slowly- every so slowly, places his hand in you hair, petting you gently. “What else did you notice that I failed to do subtly?”

“You always seemed to want to hold my hand and be near me.” You say confidently. You’re rewarded when Wild loses his nerve to look at you. You’re correct in your statement.

“Anything else?” He tries again.

“You’re very sweet to me.” You continue, placing your finished flower crown at the top of his head. “And I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Wild short circuits.

You lean up close to his face and grin. “May I?”

“Yes. Don’t even ask.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #i may have lost the point on a few of these #try a lot of them #but man this wasn't coming as easy as i thought it would ^.^*

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