#so sad i had to take a poop

[hafwen]

The room we were keeping Toni in is more of a 3 season room and it does have a propane stove but it's not cheap to run. Plus she’s getting more interested in climbing and the last thing we want for her to burn herself if we left her in there alone.

We moved her to what used to be Lillie’s hangout but we closed it off with the flea outbreak and it’s flea free. It also has the bonus of an attached bath so we can put her water in the shower so when she plays with it/dumps it we don’t have a mess to clean up.

We tried to leave the the fan off in the new room but she hid under the bed until we turned it on and regularly checks it when when comes out so I guess that’s a thing. Once she gets more comfortable in there I’m hoping we can do in convince her the fan doesn’t need to be on 24/7.

It’s funny we can hear her playing, it’s very cute and we can see her footprints on the bed and hear her jumping down when we get close so she’s not just hiding under there.

#she also seems happier in this room #even compared to how she felt in the summer #maybe she just likes the carpet more #the bed is definitely a bonus #she had cat beds and chairs and a couch to sleep in the 3 season room but that’s not a queen human bed #hoping we can take her poop to get tested tomorrow #Gigi is so sad we moved her #there is no window for her to look in anymore #it makes me so sad to see Gigi so sad #it’s a circle of sadness #personal #so i have cats and a dog #Toni #we found a kitten

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

[youngeritoshi]

Arranged Marriage

(Reo, Bachira, Isagi , Rin)

bllk boys x f. reader

Reo

-He already expected this along time ago. (Rich family things y'know what I mean)

-Nagi would always tease him that he doesn't want to babysit any demonic child or whatev. (he would chase Reo's child)

-Was annoyed because he's the first person who will get married in bllk.

-Not until he saw you tho. It's like the first time he ever saw Nagi but better. You were an angel.

-Signed those marriage contracts as soon as he got handed one, not even reading those terms.

-In your perspective, he was weird. The first meeting he kept staring at you even when he was signing the papers he would always glance at you. And wtf chooses the color purple as a perfect color to dye their hair.

"Reo is this your girlfriend? Sweetheart! How much did he paid you?"

"first of all, she's my wife, and second get your fucking hand off of her"

-He would take you to shopping almost every day when you're free.

Bachira

-bro was excited to see you.

-He was sad that he's mother was in debt so he would to everything just to help his mother.

-"So the L/n's has a daughter and made a deal with us" (you know the rest)

-You were his best friend! You've already been to millions of date and no luck, your parents are also pushing you to get married so this was your last chance.

-Your best friend has been secretly in love with you so was the best husband that you could ever ask for.

-The best husband ever.

-Clingy asf. Just cuddles and kisses.

-Would always carry you around the house.

-Joins your shower time with no permission. He just enters, you guys are married after all.

-Sleeps on your lap while you're doing your work.

Isagi

-wetting his shorts on your first meet up.

-stuttering all over the place

-"where do I sign? Oh.. - right. Here hehe"

-He didn't question his parents why he had to do it because he saw that his parents were troubling and if this is the only way then so be it.

-Bro stop flirting with him, he can't move.

-He can cook and he would always cook.

-You and his parents are the closest! They would show pictures of baby Isagi pooping or them changing his diapers.

-Would prepare everything when you guys go on a holiday. Plane tickets, hotel and all that!

-Would cook breakfast before he leaves, preps for your lunch boxes, and leaves practices early to cook for your dinner!

-does all the house chores, basically a male wife.

Rin

-Pissed asf.

-He didn't want to do it. He'd rather die. But Sae was already married and he didn't want to lose to him so yeah he just went with it.

-Shidou was teasing the hell out of him.

"fuck off cockroach"

-Bros mood lighten, the younger Itoshi wasn't the Itoshi on the football field.

-He was shy at first but when you were the one who reached out to him he felt your comfort.

"Rin I need to get to work"

"But it's my day off, can't you say that you're in maternity leave"

"Rin.."

-You would prepare him his protein shakes and yoga mats so early in the morning and when he wakes up to see that, instant hug and wouldn't ever let you go.

-When he's at Paris training for PXG, misses you sm and messages you during his breaks.

-Shidou would hit on you and things would get a Lil..

-It's the same feeling as the enjoyable moments with his brothers when he was young, he felt loved. It was love.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock x you #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi au #bllk #bllk isagi #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi #isagi x you #Isagi #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #bllk bachira #blue lock bachira #Bachira #reo mikage #reo x reader #bllk reo #bllk rin #blue lock reo #reo x you

[merrybloomwrites]

A Podcast Love Story

Summary: The story of Shayne & Y/N, as told through a series of podcasts

AN: This story was inspired by a request from someone that tumblr isn't letting me tag, so that's dumb lol

Also, I tried to follow the actual timeline of when these podcasts were posted but I did take some creative liberty, so some things might not match up with when the were really posted irl

Wordcount: 3.4K

CW: very light mention of smut, talk about pregnancy

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

SmoshCast #75 – How Shayne and Courtney Feel About Being Shipped Together

Dating someone who’s in the public eye was not entirely unexpected. You live in Los Angeles after all. When you and Shayne started dating in 2019 you decided to keep it a secret for a while. Neither of you were ready to share your relationship with the Smosh viewers yet.

This became more difficult when you decided to quarantine together in 2020 during the pandemic. Two weeks after he returned from Australia, when you were sure that neither of you had Covid, you packed your necessities and headed to Shayne’s. It was nice being together, but it did get complicated when he needed to film videos.

Sometimes you would go for a walk while he was filming. Other times you would hide in the other room. He’d triple check all his footage before submitting it to make sure you, and any of your belongings, weren’t in frame.

One day, a few months in, he and Courtney are recording an episode of the SmoshCast. He sets up at the small dining table in the corner of the living room. You’re on the couch, meaning you can’t be seen on the camera, but you are in Shayne’s view. It might not have been the smartest decision since you’re now stuck there for the entire time they record, but you have a book and a snack, so you get cozy.

You can only hear Shayne’s side of the conversation, so you’re not fully paying attention. That is, until you hear Shayne say, “If we so much as say hi to each other, Shartney fans poop themselves.” The mention of this ship between him and his castmate has you more focused on the conversation. Not because you’re jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but because all of you find it quite funny how hard the two of them are shipped.

He can’t stop looking over to you for the entire ten-minute segment. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you. It’s obvious that he’s reassuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. You especially like when he says, “You can ship me with anything. Ship me with bananas.” And you nearly lose it when he says, “I am begging you, please, make a ship edit of me and Kathy Bates.”

They continue to talk and the conversation steers towards how fans make assumptions based on what they see in videos. Shayne brings up how people were concerned about him for a few weeks at the beginning of quarantine. He starts to explain, “I was very quiet in those early podcasts, but the reason was, one, I was not getting enough sleep. I kept staying up late,” here he looks at you before quickly saying, “playing video games.” You again struggle to keep quiet, knowing that was not the truth. Unless “playing video games” has now become code for “having intimate moments with my girlfriend”.

He continues to talk about how his setup for recording was less than ideal and finishes by saying, “I wasn’t sad at all, I was actually having great days.” Again, you share a quick look, showing that you agree with him about how wonderful it’s been since you started living together.

They wrap up the podcast a little while later and Shayne is officially done with work for the day.

“Playing video games, huh?” you say teasingly.

“Oh yea, totally a pro gamer now,” he replies.

“You think so?” you say with a laugh.

“I mean, I could always use more practice,” he answers as he lifts you from the couch, carrying you to the bedroom.

SmoshCast #85 – American Horror Story: Adulting

A few months later and things are looking better in the world. This means a return to the office for everyone. You’d landed a job at Smosh, working in post-production, so now you and Shayne work together. You were nervous about being around each other all the time, but luckily there’s still a fair amount of the day when you’re apart. Shayne is often filming or in meetings or busy writing, and you spend most of the time at your desk working on the next video.

But sometimes, you get a break to see him. Shayne, Damien, and Coutney are filming a new SmoshCast episode, and you sneak in to watch from the back. The theme is “Adulting”, and they somehow start by talking about how they interact with the younger generation. You can’t help but smile as Shayne talks about his niece, endeared by the relationship he has with her. He also mentions grandchildren, which makes your imagination run away thinking about your future together.

You stay for a little while and just watch your boyfriend. He’s not saying anything crazy, or doing anything special, but you love listening to him give advice. You also love how attentive he is to his friends, how closely he listens to everything they say. When you do go back to your desk you take a moment to think about how lucky you are that this man, with a solid head on his shoulders and more emotional maturity than you’ve ever seen before, is your other half.

Smosh Mouth #5 – Shayne and Y/N Share Their Love Story

“Welcome back to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne.”

“And I’m Amanda.”

“And today we have a very special guest. We have my lovely wife, Y/N Topp,” Shayne says, smiling at you as he finished the introduction.

“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone.

It’s weird being in front of the camera. It’s only happened a few times in the years that you’ve been with Shayne. Even though you also work at Smosh, you’re always behind the scenes. You’ve only really been in videos that highlight the crew, so the focus has rarely been on you.

But today you’re finally sitting down to do a podcast for the channel. They’d just revived the podcast after a nearly three-year hiatus.

So much has happened in your personal life since then. At the time that SmoshCast was airing, your relationship with Shayne was fairly new, and you weren’t ready to share it yet. Within a year of that last episode going live, you two had gotten engaged. This led to you guys getting married, and as of 22 weeks ago, you being pregnant with your first child.

“Well, I for one am very excited to have you here today,” Amanda says. “I cannot wait to grill you on every last detail of your relationship.” You all laugh at that, knowing that while you’re sharing more personal information than you ever have before, no one is going to push you or Shayne too much.

“So,” Amanda continues. “Tell me, how did you meet?”

You look to Shayne, encouraging him to start the story.

“We met in 2019,” he begins. “Someone had recommended a book to me, so I was at the library to pick it up. While I was looking through the shelf Y/N came over and started looking through the section as well. We kind of started at opposite ends and moved to meet in the middle. Turns out we were both looking for the same book.”

“No you were not!” Amanda interjects.

“We really were,” you say to confirm. “We basically have the most cliché meet-cute story.”

“Ya, no kidding! So, what happened next?” she asks.

“Well, I had picked up the book first and noticed Y/N glance at it. So we started talking and I told her she should take the book first and I’d read it when she’s done.”

“And then he very smoothly said he could give me his number so I could tell him when I was returning the book,” you add.

“Look at you,” Amanda says. “Making the bold moves.”

“I had to give it a try,” Shayne says with a laugh.

“And it worked. I texted him a couple weeks later, the day before I returned the book.”

“I didn’t have her number,” Shayne says. “And I was kicking myself for not getting it because waiting to hear from her was pretty torturous I’m not gonna lie. So as soon as she texted about the book I asked her on a date.”

“Which actually shocked me at first. I really though he only was interested in the book.”

“Did you know who he was?” Amanda asks. “Like, had you watched Smosh or seen him on TV before you met?”

“I did know who he was. I had just started watching Smosh, so I recognized him but really didn’t know much about him.”

“Did you start watching old videos and try to get to know more about him after you met? Or after he asked you out?”

“I tried not to. I wanted to get to know him naturally, not through videos online. But there was a video posted after he asked me out but before our date called ‘Why We’re Bad at Dating’ and I couldn’t resist. And I truly think it helped us hit it off on that first date.”

“How so?” Amanda inquires.

Shayne takes that question, saying, “In the episode I talked about what I do on dates that kind of lead to there not being a second date. And Y/N/N called me out on that.”

You chime in, adding, “He said he puts on a ‘CW’ version of himself. I told him not to do that. And I admitted to being just as anxious about the date as he was so we should just forget the pressure and hang out and get to know each other.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Amanda says. “So obviously you started dating and kept dating. When did you take the next step?”

Shayne takes this question and says, “I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple months later. And then we moved in together shortly after the start of the pandemic. Which was slightly challenging when it came to filming at home for Smosh since we wanted to keep the relationship a secret for a while.”

“Yea, how in the world did you make that work?”

“We were very, very careful,” you say. “I definitely hid in the bathroom more than once to stay out of frame.” At this you all laugh, and you add, “Totally worth it, though.”

“Ok, next juicy question. Shayne, how did you propose?”

“So, I hired a sky writer,” he says before laughing and continuing, “No, just kidding. We’d been dating for a year and a half, living together for almost a year at the time. We rented a cabin in Colorado for a few days and on the second day we went on a hike. Packed a picnic, did the whole thing. And I uh, I proposed at the top of the mountain.”

“You guys are literally a romcom,” Amanda quips.

“Would a romcom do a hike proposal? I feel like they’re always at fancy restaurant or the beach. Or like, yelling ‘Will you marry me?’ As the girl walks away down a street in the pouring rain,” you say.

“Oh, a hike proposal is very Lifetime or Hallmark.”

“Good point, it’s totally been in at least one of those movies.”

“Did you like that it was on a hike?” Amanda asks.

“Yea, Y/N/N, did you like it?” Shayne says, pretending to be truly concerned and worried about your answer.

“Hated it,” you say jokingly. “No, honestly, I loved it. Shayne and I always bonded over how much we love nature, so it was perfect for us. I can’t imagine it being any other way. I know a lot of girls want to make sure their nails are done so they get that perfect ring picture, which totally fine, not judging at all. But it definitely felt right that I literally had dirt under my nails and scrapes on my palms from slipping up the hill. Much more authentic that way.”

“And the wedding, anything you want to share about it?” Amanda asks.

“We actually got married in New Mexico,” you say. “It was the central spot for both our families. It was last April, so, beautiful weather during the day. And we lucked out that the temperature didn’t drop too much at night.”

“Very nice,” Amanda replies. “Shayne, anything to add?”

“We kept it pretty small, just family, and close friends. I feel like it was a very typical wedding, but it was ours, you know? So, it was special.” Shayne blushes and you know that your wedding day means more to him than he’s letting on. And that’s fine with you. It was a private event, and even though you’re sharing your relationship now, neither of you want to give away too much about your wedding.

“Aw, he’s getting red,” Amanda jokes. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“We did. We went to Hawaii. Neither of us had been before so we knew it would be special for us. We wanted to experience something new together,” you answer.

“Cute!” she replies. “Now, dedicated fans know you guys are together, know you’re married and all that. But there is some news you two have to share that no one knows, is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Shayne says. He looks at you, silently asking if you want to say it. But you can tell he’s bursting to tell everyone, so you give him a nod to continue.

“Y/N and I are having a baby,” he says.

“Hell yea you are! Smosh baby!” Amanda cheers. “Congratulations to you both! Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in the second trimester so my morning sickness is mostly gone, thank god. We’re very excited, got some classes we’re planning to take and we’re reading all the books so I’m sure we will still be extremely unprepared,” you say with a laugh.

“If there’s anyone I trust to figure it out and be great parents, it’s the two of you,” Amanda replies earnestly.

“Thank you, Amanda,” Shayne says.

The podcast continues with Amanda continuing to ask questions and you and Shayne sharing more stories about your time together.

You wrap up recording by mid-afternoon. You have an appointment with your doctor scheduled and since it’s so close to the end of the day, Shayne was also given time off to join you. Everything goes well and as he drives you both home you can’t help but be grateful that the two of you were brought together.

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories: Office Nightmares

It’s been a month and a half since recording your episode of SmoshMouth, and three weeks since it aired. The news that you and Shayne are expecting a baby spread faster than anything you’d experienced before. You’d both received messages of congratulations from more people than you had ever expected: from Smosh fans to Disney fans, and even Goldbergs fans. You never imagined the amount of support you’d receive.

You had the morning off for yet another checkup with your doctor. You get back to the office early, but technically you’re still scheduled to be off, so you opt to sit in as they record the next Reddit Story video/podcast. It’s one of your favorite series currently, and you love listening to Shayne read all the stories.

He begins the third story, reading the title, “Am I the asshole for telling my wife that I’m not taking off of work to be present at our daughters’ birth?”

They joke around for a bit, and then he dives into the story, reading how the man explains that he couldn’t take off work cause there’s a project and they need him there. The wife finds out that’s a lie, and it mad that he didn’t take time off. He says he wants to work more so they’d have more money after the birth, and that the baby wouldn’t even remember him being there. He finishes by saying he doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to be there at the birth, and even blames the wife’s hormones for her being upset about it.

Shayne, along with Spencer and Tommy begin to share their thoughts on the story. You smile and nod as Shayne makes the point of, “He keeps saying the baby’s not gonna remember, but you’re fucking wife will!”

They even give reasons why they’d understand him not being there, with Tommy saying, “If they were really desperate for cash then I’d get it,” and Spencer saying he’d understand if he were terrified of being around childbirth.

The boys then look over to you and Spencer says, “Y/N, you’re pregnant, how do you feel about this story?”

“Yea,” Tommy adds, “would you kill Shayne if he did this?”

“Oh, for sure!” you call out.

“C’mere,” Shayne says. “You’re probably the one most qualified to give an opinion here.”

You look to Kiana who’s directing the video and she gives you a nod, so you walk onto the set and stand behind Shayne, leaning down so your face is next to his and your voice will get picked up on his microphone.

“What are you’re thoughts on this?” Tommy asks.

“You guys definitely made a lot of great points. I mean, childbirth is terrifying, and I keep trying to ignore the fact that I do have to actually, you know, birth a human. But I know that Shayne will be there and is studying to be the best support person. I mean, he’s read enough books about it, I think he could deliver the baby himself if necessary,” you say with a laugh.

“I will add, if this was the father of my child, I’d wonder what he actually deems important. Because this is arguably one of the biggest days of everyone’s life. First of all, it should be important to him. It’s literally his child entering the world. It’s a privilege to be one of the first people that baby will ever meet. And then, what will be a big enough deal for him to take off work in the future? Baby’s not gonna remember her first birthday, is he gonna go to that? She has a dance recital at three years old, is he going to think that’s silly and not go?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense,” Spencer replies. “He definitely seems to have his priorities and being there for his family isn’t one.”

“I truly cannot imagine not being there when our kid is born,” Shayne says. “My worst fear would be if something kept me from being there.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Tommy says bluntly, and everyone laughs.

You head back off camera as they continue on.

After a few more stories Shayne begins another entry, titled, “And I the asshole for eating the last doughnut before my pregnant coworker could have one?” He looks at you once he reads it and laughs before saying, “Y/N’s face says, yes absolutely you are.”

He reads the story which explains that the young employee ate his allotted two doughnuts, and when the pregnant coworker didn’t show up after half an hour, he ate her two as well. She gets there shortly after and explains she had car trouble and is upset to see everyone had a treat but didn’t save her any. Later, the boss pulls aside the employee to tell him he’d been rude to his coworker.

After he finishes the post the boys discuss the etiquette of eating communal snacks in the office before Shayne says, “Also, if there is one thing I know, it’s that you never mess with a pregnant woman’s food unless you want to die.” You laugh so loudly at this that you know for sure the mics picked it up from across the room.

“Y/N, anything to add?” Spencer says.

You walk over again and state, “Listen, all I’m say is that I’m mad you guys are just talking about doughnuts when we don’t have any. Cause cravings are a bitch and now I am literally not going to stop thinking about doughnuts until I get one.”

After moving offscreen you realize you need to pee, again, so you leave the studio to head to the bathroom. Once you’re out of the room Shayne says, “Hey Kiana, can I have my phone a second?”

“Why do you need your phone?” Spencer asks.

“I gotta doordash some doughnuts.”

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

AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have any requests for Shayne stories!

Taglist: @american-girl001 @tatumrileyslover @queenofcaradelle @1nkm0nster

#shayne topp x reader

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Realizations

A/N: This is a sad one. I've written Chapter 9 and only one chapter left to write!

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst, death of civilians, war, PTSD

Length: 3000ish

Summary: Jake does some thinking and we find out why he is like that.

Previous     Masterlist     Next

“What we need are those veterinary gloves that come up to your shoulder.” You have a roll of tape out and combined with elastics and a small garbage bag you are trying to waterproof Jake’s cast. After finally being released from the hospital after 4 days, Jake is in desperate need of a shower. “Then you could use your hand. I’m going to order some from Amazon.”

“Why do vets need gloves that come up to their shoulder?” Jake watches you struggle to carefully tape the edges of the bag to the skin of his arm, fighting with the extra plastic.

“You know the long gloves Ellie wears when she digs in the dino poop looking for West Indian Lilac in Jurassic Park?” Jake blinks at you in confusion, trying to remember. “Vets wear them for a similar reason.”

“Eww.” Jake checks the seal around the tape job you did. “How do you even know that?”

“Remember when I dated a farm boy in university?” Jake nods. He remembers thinking the kid wasn’t good enough for you. “Well in those two months we were together I went and helped them when they preg checked their cows.” You give him a little half grin, “I learned I am not cut out for farm life.” 

You start the shower for him before carefully helping him remove his shirt. You wince when you see the bruises crossing his torso from the seatbelt harness of his jet. The brush of your fingers, featherlight over the bruises, burns before you abruptly leave the bathroom, telling him to call if he needs help. 

Jake sighs and finishes stripping before getting under the spray. Everything hurts and the concussion makes him feel like he is in a fog. His head is a constant dull throb and what he really wants to do is lie down and sleep some more. He holds his left arm hand up at a right angle and does his best to shower mostly one handed. 

Pulling a shirt on seems too difficult so he walks into the bedroom half dressed. You've pulled the curtains, so it is dark and he collapses into the clean sheets. A water bottle and his painkillers lined up neatly on his end table, as well as a few protein bars. 

You’ve thought of everything, you always do, but you seem different since the accident and he can’t figure it out. Every time he tries to think his head begins to ache. You are more clinical, less warm. Maybe it is because he is injured, maybe he is imagining it. 

He thinks back to the morning of the crash. Remembers waking up with you in his arms, how good it felt to hold you and talk to you. The hospital had been so lonely when they wouldn’t let you stay overnight. 

He wanted you to stay in California. He wanted to come home and have you there to talk to, he could always call you before, but living with you was better. He loved watching movies together, cooking together, cleaning, and grocery shopping. Every mundane task was better with you.

He couldn’t ask you to stay. He was too much of a mess. He couldn’t sleep and the guilt of what happened was always there. You didn’t deserve to be pulled into that. He was sure that you would stay if he asked. You and your misguided sense of duty and the belief that you owed him something. But if he asked then he would have to tell you and if he told you you would never look at him the same way.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he notices is your voice calling to him gently. His eyes flitter open and he can see you sitting on the edge of the bed. You are beautiful in the light filtering from the hall, and in that moment you take his breath away. “Doctor says you should be up and moving, so come have dinner.” 

When you go to leave he curls his good hand around your arm and revels in the feel of your soft skin sliding through his fingers. When he thinks you are about to slip your hand through his fingers you catch his palm and give a gentle tug and he feels himself following you automatically. 

“This can’t be what you are used to.” You say with a grin as you grab a shirt and help him into it. “Women are probably more keen to take your shirt off.”

“I’ll do anything if it's with you, pretty girl.” The words leave his lips before he can comprehend what he has said. Your sharp inhale makes him want to kick himself. Why did he say that? He never flirted with you. It was a line he refused to cross. 

He can see the flustered look on your face as you stand to go. “Come on flyboy, you must be hard up if you are flirting with me.” He follows you down the hall to the table. That wasn’t completely fair. Why wouldn't he flirt with you? If you weren't his wife he definitely would have tried to pick you up in a bar. 

That evening as you lie down beside him in bed you turn to him. “We have our first meeting with the couples therapist tomorrow, he wants to meet us separately first.” Jake had forgotten about the marriage counseling. “I think we should just say we want to keep our relationship strong, and I don't know, talk about how adjusting to living together is a challenge or something.” He just mumbles an agreement. 

Jake has no idea how the two of you are going to sell being married to a professional. He thinks of all the ways this might go as you slowly drift off to sleep beside him. Once he can hear your steady breathing his mind starts to slow and as he falls asleep he rolls over so he is curled around you. 

When he wakes the next morning he slides his arm across the bed feeling for your warmth but the sheets are cool. You are already gone.  When he gets up he finds you making omelets in the kitchen. 

“The contractor is going to be finishing up the repairs in the ceiling of my room today,” you tell him as you add the cheese. “You will have your bed back, free of my cold toes tonight.” 

“Oh, ok.” Jake doesn't know what to think and it takes him a moment to realize he is disappointed. Last night was the last time he would sleep with you in his arms. He thinks about all the times he left you in the mornings. He shouldn't have run away. He could have just rolled back to his side of the bed and talked to you on those mornings, now he would never get the option. 

You drive to the counselor’s and he spends his time in the passenger seat fighting his motion sickness. It's your turn first and you give him a worried look as you go, as he sits in the waiting room trying to get his head to stop spinning. If he says something wrong in the counselor's office he will just blame it on the concussion. 

When it is his turn you squeeze his hand as you trade spots. He can't help himself as he pulls you into a hug. Jake presses his lips to your hairline. He should hug you more, he thinks. 

You rarely initiate physical affection more than holding hands, and hug only on special occasions. He likes the feel of you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo, and the warmth of your skin. The way you melt into him is overwhelming before you pull away.

The session went well. A mixture of the truth and agreed upon lies slip easily off his tongue. At the end of the session Jake is given the same homework that you received.  

“I want you to come up with a list of all the reasons you are in love with your wife.”

The homework is a fixture in his mind over the next few days. Jake can’t figure out why he keeps repeating the counselor's words in his head. He lists the reasons he loves you. You are smart, funny, tough as hell, your kindness, you are supportive, you are so easy to talk to and you always know what to say, you call him on his bullshit. You are capable. 

He stares at the words he has written and feels they are not personal enough to sell it. You are beautiful, your smile makes his stomach clench, your laughter, you feel so good in his arms, how you being in his life made everything better. He stares at his list as the words play over in his head, ‘reasons you are in love with your wife.’

Jake drops the pen and buries his face in his hands as the realization hits him. “Fuck.” He is in love with you. When did that happen? Was it before you moved in or is it a recent thing? Sometime during the first or second year of the marriage he noticed he loved you. But it had always felt so platonic, a love of friendship, of convenience, and connection.

You have always been beautiful, and, if he was honest with himself, he had always been attracted to you, but with the nature of your relationship he had always locked those thoughts and feelings away. You were untouchable. But in the last month with you sleeping in his bed everything blurred. It didn’t matter when he fell in love, the only thing that mattered was that he is completely and irrevocably in love with you now. 

It is weird to feel terrible about an emotion considered so positive. Jake stares at the closed door to the office where you are working from home. He can never tell you. You had only stayed married due to his inability to process his trauma. 

He felt tainted, like you being with him would somehow mark you too. He didn't deserve you, he didn’t deserve anything good. And he loved you too much to let you be ruined by him. He wouldn't let you give up your life and the love you deserve. Because you need someone who is in love with you unconditionally, someone good. 

The day he had agreed to marry you had told him that you would always be there for him and he had taken advantage of that over the years. Taken advantage of your kindness and good heart. Someone as good and kind as you would never stay married to him. He could never tell you he loved you. He wouldn’t be that guy, the man who thought he was owed something just because he had feelings for a woman. He would let you go even if it killed him. 

– – –

Sleeping next to you didn’t stop the nightmares. They always came at the same frequency, mild ones a few times a week and the bad ones every week or so. What sleeping next to you did was calm him when he woke. Your breaths and the warmth of your skin would ground his mind and bring him back to the present like nothing else could. 

Before you he would never get back to sleep after a nightmare. He would go for a run or go to the 24h gym. He sometimes would mindlessly watch tv or stare at his phone until it was an acceptable hour to get up. In the weeks after the concussion he couldn’t do that. Strenuous activity and screen time were two of the things the doctor told him to avoid. 

Most nights he would just lay in bed. He had tried audio books but he could not focus on them. So he would lie there in the dark thinking about you, and everything that he loved about you, and torturing himself. 

His post concussion nightmares were more intense than any he had before but he still hadn't had a bad one yet. He could feel it coming. Lack of sleep and anxiety tended to trigger the nightmares. Stress also played a role and the night before the second marriage counseling session it hit him. 

Jake’s heart is pounding as he sits up in bed struggling to breath. The nightmares are rarely the same and his mind alway finds ways for his dreams to be somehow worse than what had happened, combining events and reimagining others. 

You died tonight. The person he had killed was you, and even though he logically knew you were fine he needed to check on you. Stumbling, eyes bleary, he walks to your room and pushes open the door. The smell of new paint and construction is almost gone. Leaning on the door frame Jake can see you sleeping and he takes in the sight. 

If he holds his breath and listens he can faintly hear you breathing from the doorway and he can’t help the muffled sob that slips past his lips. You stir and he bites his lips to keep from waking you but it is too late.

“Jake?” You lean up and look at him. “You ok?” he gives a jerky nod, unable to open his mouth. Afraid he would begin sobbing if he did. “Another nightmare?” He doesn’t know how you can tell. Maybe it is written on his face. 

“Come here,” your voice is soft and you open your arms and beckon to him and he is moving his feet before he can think about it. Jake collapses on top of the covers and into your arms, head pillowed on your chest listening to your heartbeat. His eyes flutter closed as you rake your fingers through his hair and down his back. Your gentle movements calm him and steady his mind but soon it is not enough. There are too many layers between you. 

He sits up and motions to the covers. “Can I?” he asks hesitantly, wanting to be able to hold you without the blanket between you. You nod and he slips beneath the covers and returns to his position with his head on your chest. Your hands resume their motions carding through his hair and stroking his back.

It’s still not enough. He sits abruptly and takes his shirt off before lying back down, slotting his body between your thighs and his head on your stomach this time. He needs to feel your skin pressed against his. He eases your shirt up so he can rest his cheek against your stomach. He can hear your sharp inhale but you don't say anything and for that he is grateful. You just go back to smoothing your hands over his bare skin. He doesn’t know how long he lays there with you beneath him, his hands curl around your rib cage as his thumbs smooth over your soft skin. 

After a while of your hands moving over him he feels you pause. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He shakes his head in denial, not wanting you to know. But when he feels your nails scratch his scalp and drag down his neck he starts talking. 

“You know the military severely under-reports civilian deaths, right?” There is no change in you. Your hands keep moving in the same rhythm and your breathing is steady. “Every time we drop bombs we kill people and there is a chance we kill civilians. Mostly we don’t think about it. It is easier to drink the kool-aid. Accept the Navy’s narrative. But if you watch the news from other countries they will report it; show videos of civilians killed by American bombs.”

Jake stops talking, wanting you to respond, hoping you don’t. Looking for a clue to stop talking. You don’t give him one so he continues. “I shot another plane down, the first air-to-air kill in three decades. The Navy pinned a medal on me.'' Now that he was talking he couldn’t stop. The words he had never spoken to anyone pouring out. “No one mentioned that after I shot the jet it crashed into this community building. There were families inside. Sixteen people were killed, nine of them were children.

“They gave me a fucking medal for killing children. I saw the footage, the crashed jet and the injured people. There was this man carrying his dead son and I can’t get that out of my head.” Jake feels you shift and he raises his head to look at you but all you do is place a gentle kiss on his forehead before lying back down and resuming your motions. 

“Please hate me.” He doesn't know why he says it; why he needs you to condemn him. As if your condemnation will justify everything he feels.

“No,” you say simply.

“Why not?” he can feel a sob building in his chest. “I fucking deserve it. How can you just learn all that about me and not care?” 

“Javy told me years ago,” you confess, “actually I suspected. It was on the news that an American Navy pilot shot down a plane and what happened, I knew you were stationed in the area and you changed whenever we talked after, so I figured it was you and Javy confirmed it when I asked.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jake had been keeping his knowledge and shame bottled up away from you for so long; not wanting to change the way you saw him and to find out you had always known was gutting. 

“I knew you would tell me when you were ready.” 

“You should hate me,” Jake hates the way he sounds. Small, meek, hesitant. “I hate me.”

“I hate that it happened. It breaks my heart for those families, but I can’t hate you for it. You are responsible, but not culpable.” You say simply.

“Then who is to blame if not me?” You don’t have an answer for him, he knows there isn’t one, at least not an answer that will make him feel better. Some things you just have to live with. The tears start to flow down Jake's cheeks in ugly sobs as you pull him closer. He clings to you and finally lets himself grieve. 

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #topgun maverick #jake seresin

[theghoulboysblog]

My Top Ten Favorite Moments from Ghost Files in Dallas Texas starting at the funniest:

1. Shane and Ryan getting into a brief argument over the Sally House flashlights and Ryan saying, “We are NOT going to rehash a six year fight!” and then making a comment along the lines of, “We’re like a married couple!”

2. After someone clarified that Shane stole Goatman’s Bridge first, Ryan agreed and said that it indeed was *technically* Shane’s bridge and that Shane deserves all of the credit. In response to that, Shane said that after he claimed the bridge from Goatman, he added Ryan’s name to the deed, so therefore IT IS IN FACT Shane and Ryan’s Bridge that they have joint possession of :) And Shane wasn’t being teasing about it AT ALL. He wasn’t saying, “Ha, Goatman’s gonna get BOTH OF US NOW.” He was being painfully genuine in a “i want this to be a thing you and me share” kinda way. 😭

3. Shane saying that he will more than likely finish the Hotdoga someday and that he has the ending roughly planned out in his mind! :D He also explained that he stopped due to the work load, leading Ryan to say, “He made the Hotdoga to annoy me, but then he was like ‘Damn, this is a lot of work!’” 😭 (Also someone made a comment on the dead look in Ryan’s eyes at the mention of the Hotdoga and said, “It took me back!” and Ryan sadly responded, “Me too.” Haha!)

4. The Shaniacs teasing Ryan about the evidence he caught / the evidence that he found compelling enough to include in the live show. Some person yelled nonchalantly, “FAKE!” and Ryan teased them multiple times through the show. Another person put air quotes around the word “evidence” while talking to Ryan and Shane took his hat off for a second in respect, and another person brought a laser pointer to help Ryan point out the evidence cause it was so hard to see and Ryan was so flabbergasted 😭 BRO WAS GOING THROUGH IT!!! (It was all lighthearted respectful teasing and Ryan was a good sport about it all!)

5. A person, dressed HEAD TO TOE as the professor, politely tossed some jelly beans at Shane, Meredith, and Ryan. Shane then dropped some of said jelly beans and proceeded to eat them off the ground, claiming that since they landed on the white carpet under their feet and not the stage that they were fine. Ryan and Meredith were NOT pleased in the slightest. Ryan did however take a clean green jelly bean out of Shane’s palm and Shane let him happily and then politely offered one to Meredith (she said no haha.)

6. SHANE ALMOST FALLING WHEN HE GOT UP TO DO THE ESTES METHOD LMAOOO!

7. Shane and Ryan talking about the episode they discussed the possibility that the man who died playing piano pooped himself and then revealing that they had to cut for like five minutes because they cried laughing so long. Shane, while reminiscing about this moment, said, “Very sad but GOD DAMN was it funny!” 😭 He also revealed that there have been MANY times him and Ryan have laughed themselves to tears together and I thought that was kinda sweet.

8. Meredith and Ryan thought there was a ghost backstage, and then Shane and Ryan lied to Meredith and said the ghost started acting up again when she left, resulting in Meredith believing that the ghost was just racist.

9. A fan asking Shane a question about a certain clip and saying, “When that ghost called you daddy-” and Shane, COMPLETELY misunderstanding what they said, yelling confusedly, “WHEN THAT GHOST FUCKING DIED?!?!?!? 🤨🤨🤨”

10. And lastly, Ryan calling Steven their “Delicate Steven Lim” and teasing him for the last few minutes of the show haha 💛 The best part of it was when Ryan was talking about him and Shane taking Steven ghost hunting years ago and stating that Steven had said he found his calm. Ryan, remembering this moment, said, “He didn’t find calm, he TALKED TO GOD!!! FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!” 😭 and the exasperation in his tone was so damn funny.

Bonus. This person came up to ask a question holding an empty nacho box and Ryan was weirdly extremely fixated on it 😭 He was pretty much like, “Did that hold nachos??? Cool. It looked like a nachos kind of box. Cool, cool. You looked like you enjoyed them? The nachos?” I literally have NO CLUE what that was about but I think he might have been hungry for some nachos idk?!?! 😭😭😭

(Other honorable mentions are Ryan being upset the ghost called Shane daddy and not him, Shane yelling that he’s “GOT PUPPETS TO MAKE!”, Ryan getting a little anxious when people weren’t cheering for his evidence and being like, “NEVERMIND I DON’T THINK IT’S COMPELLING ANYMORE I SWEAR-“, Shane blasting “Mamma Mia” before the show, and Shane taking amazing care of a doll someone gifted him and putting it between him and Ryan!!!)

The show was AMAZING, the episode was SO great, (NO SPOILERS BUT YOU GUYS ARE IN FOR A TREAT!!!), the people there were so accepting, and the Ghoul Boys were so UNBELIEVABLY NICE TO EVERYONE. If you have the money and time for it, I honestly recommend buying a ticket to one of the shows because I had SUCH A GOOD TIME. (Also, LITERALLY DON’T BE SCARED TO ASK THEM A QUESTION OR GIVE THEM A GIFT CAUSE THEY WERE SO GRATEFUL, PATIENT, AND KIND, ESPECIALLY TO PEOPLE WHO WERE OBVIOUSLY ANXIOUS TO TALK TO THEM.) I honestly have NOTHING bad to say about my experience. It was a dandy time and I plan to go to another show in the future if they ever tour again.

#shane and ryan #ryan bergara #ghost files tour #ghost files #besties fr

[mysteria157]

Chapter 15

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~17.3k

CW: profanity, explicit sexual content, jealousy, postpartum coping

Summary: You and Nanami navigate through the first months of parenthood. Nanami gives you an amazing birthday gift. A surprising encounter with someone from Nanami’s past makes you unsure of yourself.

Notes: Getting close to the end, I’m so sad but proud that I’m almost done with this journey. Thank you to all who have been supportive so far. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

You were so incredibly lucky to have Kento by your side through the very messy beginnings of a new addition in your house. You both settled into an easy routine—or at least as easy as it could be—with Ulani. While her first month of life was spent being cherished, hugged, cooed at and loved, you and Kento’s first month with her could only be described as absolute hell.

She did what all newborns did; cry, eat incessantly, poop, and sleep. Four easy and mundane tasks all carried out in various intervals that you both had read about and mentally prepared for, but where blindsided with nonetheless.

You and Kento were thankful for all the help you could get.

Chiyo inserted herself immediately and every morning of that first week, she would silently let herself into the house with her spare key and pick up the living room, prepare you and Kento a small breakfast and make sure any clothes in the dryer were folded and put away. Even Santo helped by mowing your front lawn and backyard while Kento slept and grabbing groceries at night while Kento cleaned up and you fed Ulani and got her ready for bed.

They were all such small and easy things to do. So smelling caffeine free tea in the air every morning when you both crawled out of bed, eyeing the large plate of eggs and toast next to the heap of groceries on your kitchen counter, seeing a freshly cut lawn and the folded onesies and bibs on your couch, all of it had your heart growing ten times in size and Kento pulling his parents in a gentle hug when he could catch them in his spare time.

Though you both were working as a team, Kento would only stand for so much from you. He loved you, from the depths of his soul he did. But after catching you completely breaking down not even two weeks after giving birth, he had sworn to never make you feel alone.

You were overwhelmed, of course you were. You and Kento tried and failed to set a good schedule for Ulani and you suffered the consequences, especially at night. You had begun to feel the small dredges of anxiety and sadness lick up your legs night after night and day after day when Ulani would cry relentlessly and fight to latch on even when she was clearly hungry. You had been so tired, so achy and swollen, and so uncomfortable in your own fucking skin with a beautiful daughter that refused to eat or sleep when she was obviously begging for it.

You had tried, had forced yourself to take deep breaths in the nursery alone when Kento was busy with her, forced yourself to will away the tears that had already spilled down your cheeks. You were strong. You had to be. For her, for Kento, for your entire family. But no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what if she stops breathing? What if she refuses to eat and she starves? What if you’re not doing this correctly? You’re doing it all wrong. 

A bad caretaker, a terrible person to watch over her, a horrible mother. 

The thoughts had you crumpling into the rocking chair in your daughter’s nursery and sobbing until you felt the warm and large hand of your boyfriend smoothing along your back and caressing the skin of your neck before pulling you into him.

And as you cried into his shirt and muttered quietly how useless you felt as a mother, he had vowed in that moment to never let you feel it again if he could help it. So, he made an appointment with Dr. Williams himself to evaluate you and get you on the proper course of addressing your baby blues. He created a schedule for you both to try to maintain and he encouraged you to take at least half an hour for yourself every single day. He refused to make you feel lesser than what you were, refused to let the natural course of thoughts after childbirth morph into something that would scar you further, and refused to make you feel like you were alone in all of this.

He didn’t entertain any of your protests of staying up later than what was necessary and convinced you—quite quickly—to let him take control at night. Before laying Ulani down to sleep, you breastfed her. When your alarm went off every three hours, you woke up to pump while Kento fed Ulani with a bottle and handled any changing.

At first you felt awful at the sight of his tall form disheveled and exhausted, blonde hair a mess on his head as he practically dragged his yawning and grumbling body to Ulani’s nursery. But being able to pump went so much quicker than breastfeeding her, and all thoughts of your regret washed away when you could immediately shut your eyes again and feel him crawl up against you an hour later.

You made up for it during the day by being the parent to wake Ulani and get her ready for the morning.

After that first week of Chiyo’s help, you used the free time before waking your daughter to pick up the house and cook a small breakfast for you and Kento before getting Ulani ready and going out for a walk with her grandmother. It helped the rampant thoughts that would occasionally flutter in your mind when the house was too quiet or when Ulani began to fuss. And being able to have Chiyo as a good resource, to hear her tell her own remedies and stories for how she took care of her own son as you both walked through the suburbs, it helped so much.

It was hectic, grueling, exhausting and messy. But god, where the results worth it. It was worth it during the first month of Ulani’s life to hear her begin to coo with everything that she did. It was worth it to watch her recognize you and Kento’s face a little bit more each day, her dark brown eyes shifting with the movement of her head as she looked when you both spoke to her. It was worth it to hear those coos get a little louder when you or he walked into the room. All of it was worth it when even on the days where nothing seemed to go right, the sight of her sleeping during naptime made each and every fear, frustration, and worry wash away almost immediately.

There were times when you thought about what your life would have looked like without Kento in it. How would things have panned out if you had never told him about the pregnancy? Where you be if he never showed up at Rory’s door that night, completely distraught with his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants as he asked you softly to be involved in some aspect of the pregnancy. You were sure you would have handled it all just fine. It would be five thousand times more difficult, but you had Ome and even Chiyo and Santo. You could have done it alone. But having Kento with you and knowing that not only did he care and love her, but you as well, it made it all so much better.

Even though his help was a godsend to you, there were days when you inserted yourself and took over with his share of tasks. After six months since Yu’s death, Kento was doing well. He didn’t shy away when you brought him up or when Kaya’s name flashed on his phone when she called. He didn’t try to change the subject when you brought up the bakery casually during a quick dinner. He was healing.

But there were days when he woke up and carried on quieter than usual. There were days when those brown eyes that usually brightened for you and Ulani held a small flicker of grief in them. There were days when he was…tired. And on those days, you made sure he ate. You made sure he held his daughter longer than usual to remind himself of the life he had been given. You made sure to take a shift at night where you fed and changed Ulani yourself and held him close to you when you crawled back into bed. You made sure on those days when the world was too much for him, that you told him whenever you could how happy you were that he was still trying. The road of grief would never be straight and narrow, but at least Kento had finally decided to walk on it.

That first month turned into three and a half. Your routine, while still a little unpredictable, had finally began to mesh into something comprehensible and fluid. You and Kento were practically coming apart at the seams from the passage of time.

In just the blink of an eye, she had changed drastically. Ulani slept a little bit longer at night and napped throughout the day. The thin wisps of light brown hair on her head had grown into a full head of hair, thick like her father’s but just as curly as yours. She had practically doubled her birth weight and was becoming more mobile, much to the weariness of you and excitement of your boyfriend. She was always reaching for something, always shaking her toys and babbling and screaming at anything she could look at or touch. While you loved every second of watching her grow, it was going by too fast. So, so fast.

After that first day of allowing your friends to meet her, you had kindly asked for a little space just to build a routine with her without any interruptions. But you were more than ready on your birthday when you had lifted the restriction of visitors and allowed Rory to walk inside of your house on a chilly October morning. He had chosen to wait a few days after you gave birth to let you rest and acclimate before meeting her and had of course taken to her immediately.

He pulled you into a hug as soon as you opened the front door of your house.

“Happy Birthday, honey. Oh, how I’ve missed you!” The excitement was radiating off of him in waves, his hold on you tight as he swayed you side to side, his retouched twists brushing against the skin of your cheek as he laughed against you. Well-known brown eyes shined down at you as he pulled away, white but slightly crooked teeth gleaming as he smiled and began to look around your house. “Where is she? Where is my grandniece?”

The grandniece in question, was babbling rather loudly on the floor of your living room. The coffee table had long ago been stored away and replaced with her playmats, toys, and a bouncer. You alternated her playmats to encourage her sensory intake and right now, she seemed so tiny against the splattering of leaves and trees of the mat she laid on. She was staring down at the bright shades of green and dark hues of blue when you both walked into the living room, her elbows weakly pushing her head and chest up from her growing core muscles as she babbled incoherently. Her distance with sight had increased and she was able to catch the shift of your foot when you walked into the room, her head pulling up further and eyes catching yours before she screeched happily at your presence, a gummy smile shooting your way.

The sound made your heart thump hard in your chest, pride and love thrumming through your veins as soon as the decibels pierced your ears. You smiled as you sagged onto the floor and then your stomach, Rory following your actions silently and keeping an even space between you and her. Ulani’s eyes studied yours, dark brown irises already beginning to pierce and silently decipher just like her damn father.

“Just talk normally.”

You smiled at her while speaking to Rory, your voice even and low as she took in your voice. He slowly pressed a hand onto a drawing of a large monstera on the mat, his brown skin a sudden contrast to the greens and blues she was already studying.

“You looked just like her when you were a baby. It makes me feel so old, but I’ve never been happier.” He wiggled his fingers on the mat as he spoke, chuckling deeply as she followed the movement and began to grasp at him immediately, her body wobbling as she tried to maintain the balance on her stomach.

Ulani grunted softly, the dusting of her light eyebrows furrowing with effort as she pushed her chest a little further onto the mat and used the tether of Rory to pull closer to him. He didn’t hesitate, softly scooping her into his arms and sitting up to rest his back against your sofa. She looked up at him with an intensity that you had grown used to from Kento, her chubby hands fisting into his shirt as she began to babble incoherently once again.

“Where is Kento? It’s your birthday and I’m surprised he’s not out here.”

“Passed out. She had a pretty rough night so I turned off his alarm and let him sleep a little more. He takes the night shift so it’s usually me and her in the morning until he wakes up.”

“And things are going well?”

You nodded softly and rested your head against the cushion of your sofa. Rory hummed in appreciation, smiling and cooing happily down at your daughter as you watched them both interact with one another.

Things were going amazingly well. Even in the clouds of exhaustion, Kento exuded nothing but love and dedication to you and your daughter.

In the course of the last few months together, you both had bickered once. Well you griped, and he spoke back to you in that soft and firm tone, and that was during a night of Ulani waking up almost every hour. You had been suffering through a week of painful breasts from breastfeeding and pumping, had barely slept, and had squeezed your eyes shut in frustration as Ulani wailed in your ear. He had knocked on the door of the nursery to check on you and just the sound of another voice had you whipping around and barking at him to leave you alone. You had instantly been washed over with guilt as you took in the sight of the cold compress in his hand and struck with silence as he took your screaming daughter from your arms without a word, firmly placed the compress into your shirt to soothe your breasts and walked from the room, the dying cries of Ulani following him.

He had laughed good naturedly at the swelling of tears in your eyes the next morning when you apologized.

“Love, I would never expect you to be okay with a screaming infant so obviously I forgive you. But please just talk to me. I don’t care how overwhelmed you are, speak to me. Now stop crying. If Ulani starts up again, I will leave you forever.”

Even though he was one to readily show his irritation with others, he could never do that when you or Ulani were involved. Besides that night when he was drunk out of his mind and overcome with grief for Yu, he had never raised his voice again at you. He was everything you ever wanted in a man that it felt almost surreal and almost undeserving. He checked in but never hovered when your baby blues had gotten the best of you, he massaged the ache in your legs and back during the nights where you had to sit up and pump and he couldn’t sleep, and he cooked dinner almost every single night while Ulani was distracted in her baby bouncer and you showered. He even took the time—and you still didn’t know how—to get you flowers consistently. They were always on the granite countertop when you walked into the kitchen in the morning with Ulani in your arms.

The first bouquet was Daffodils, your favorite and a welcome pop of yellow in your kitchen that had a soft smile curling on your face and your chest filling with warmth. When one bouquet wilted, another took its place; perched in the same spot on your counter in the morning as if he had gotten them while you slept. First Daffodils, then Lilacs, then Lilies, all three your favorites and then others that you had never thought of like Gardenias, Fuchsias, and Peonies. You never asked him how and were content to simply hold the gesture close to your heart and kiss him every time a new one graced your eyes when you walked into the kitchen to make breakfast.

When Dr. Williams cleared you for light exercise and sex at your eight week postpartum checkup, part of you had practically jumped for joy. But the other part of you…didn’t really care. Taking care of a baby never gave you the time to think about, let alone want sex. And even though sex with Kento could knock you out, the demands and cries of Ulani managed to do the exact same thing. It was to be expected, your hormones were still slowly adjusting and the shift in them because of breastfeeding had left your libido practically depleted.

Thankfully you had a partner who understood. Kento did his homework, read every baby book he could get his hands on and even sat your doula down to ask her questions on what to expect before and after pregnancy. While every kiss with him grew more heated as the weeks flew by, you just weren’t ready. And Kento being the gentleman he was, adapted gracefully and used all of his effort to make you feel as comfortable as he could while you healed.

So yea, you could confidently say things were going well.

“Look at how strong you are!”

Rory’s voice pulled you back into the present, your eyes blinking and refocusing on your daughter bouncing in his arms. Her tiny feet were planted on his thighs, his large hands caging her torso as he guided her movements to accommodate each press onto his legs, giving her the feeling of independence without letting her go. A noise left her mouth with each moment, hands coming to clap as she squealed in his arms.

The shuffle of feet drew your attention to your hallway as Kento walked into the open air of the living room. His sleep pants hung low and loose on his lower body, his torso covered in a white shirt and pulling against his chest as he ran a hand through messy hair and looked sleepily around the room.

Ulani saw him first, her eyes catching the blonde of his hair over the arm of the sofa before she was screeching happily for him. He reacted almost immediately, firm brown eyes flickering to the three of you on the floor and falling onto his daughter before he was smiling brightly down at her.

“There you are.”

She cooed up at him in response, drool falling down small lips and onto her onesie. Rory chuckled bashfully as he lifted her up in the direction of her father, her arms reaching for him instinctively as he plucked her from your uncle and nestled her into the fabric of his chest. He greeted your uncle warmly and reached his long torso over the sofa to kiss the side of your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Did you eat?”

His serious but soft tone carried through the kitchen, over the couch and onto your skin as you rolled your eyes and kept your mouth shut.

“Did you drink water? Or if you want, I can watch Ulani so you can get some fresh air—”

“Kento. I promise, I’m perfectly alright.”

He sighed dramatically from his place in the kitchen and grumbled something beneath his breath like a child who had been told no for the millionth time. Rory snickered from his spot next to you, helped you up and strolled into the kitchen to talk to Kento. You relaxed into the soft cushions of the couch, content to watch them both speak as you let the serene calm in the air press against your skin. A year ago, your life looked a lot different. You spent your mornings fueled with coffee and arched over a desk next to Jin. If you weren’t throwing clay, painting, reading a good book, or with Ome, then your evenings were usually spent with a dinner made for one and your head buried in marketing templates and statements of work. You knew nothing but work and appease to others in the hopes of being seen.

But now, your life was something you held dear even if at times it didn’t seem real. You never thought the man that had driven you up the wall at work would be the father of your child, let alone your partner. You never thought someone as serious and indifferent as him was capable of anything else. The fluttering in your chest never failed to cease when you caught Kento doing normal things around you.

Even right now, it was still so odd to see your daughter with a light brown chubby fist jammed in her mouth and the other twisted in the fabric on her father’s shoulder while he ate with one hand and talked to your uncle about his work and progress at the studio. It was puzzling to watch your uncle throw his head back to guffaw at something you had apparently missed pass from Kento’s lips, Ulani squealing to join in. It was odd to watch those typically straight lips curl to form a smirk, or a laugh, or a smile when it was only you or your friends around. It was odd to see stoic eyes melt to convey other emotions when he spoke to you. You had become familiar with it all for months now, but it still never failed to catch you off guard.

The scene before you had been unfathomable before truly getting to know him further. He was completely at ease in your home, and you couldn’t help the thought as it hit you quickly; a muscled arm secure around his daughter as he sipped from a mug of tea with his left hand, the glimmer of a band on his ring finger winking at you from the lights of your kitchen as he talked to his uncle-in-law. You bit the inside of your cheek at the thought of his eyes catching yours from across the room, the ends of soft blond hair touching the tips of his eyebrows and swaying from his movements as he smiled softly at you and used that same ring covered hand to playfully grab your daughters small hand and wave it in your direction.

The shudder that ran through your body was violent and jarring as the thoughts dissipated and the silent chatter of your uncle and boyfriend faded back into your ears. You couldn’t even count on both of your hands anymore how often you found yourself doing that. Couldn’t even begin to think the number of times you imagined him in almost everything he did, attached to you in some way. But what did you expect? Men like Kento were made to be married to. He was efficient in almost anything that he did, and if there was one thing that made you think about a lingering future with him, it was watching him be a father. Watching him excel in the way he took care of Ulani was nothing special, it was expected of him. Men doing the same job with just as much efficiency and effort as women should never be given any sort of praise. But it was probably the evolutionary and primal part of you that salivated from his efforts and knowing that Ulani was protected and she would always be safe because Kento was the right man for the job. That and also because watching him care for her was the happiest you had ever seen him.

So every time he told you he loved you, held your daughter closer when she cried, and read to her almost every night, it was hard not to imagine him whispering Mrs. Nanami with that familiar teasing lilt in his voice.

“Y/n.”

You jumped, blinking back into reality once again as you looked up at him from your perch on the sofa. His tall form loomed over the back of the couch, gazing down at you with a tranquil expression as he analyzed the features of your face. All traces of your uncle were gone. A large and warm hand slid against the skin of your face, cupping your cheek and stroking the skin beneath your eye.

“Are you well?”

You nodded softly, your tongue thick in your mouth and the muscles of your jaw hinged shut as you tried to come back down from the fog of your overactive imagination. If he could see the unease in your eyes, for once he did not comment on it.

The sound of your phone ringing and vibrating against your leg had you jumping again in your seat. You ignored the lift of his questioning brow and lifted your hands in the direction of Ulani.

“Time to lay her down for a nap.”

He angled her away from you, eyes softening as he took you in.

“I can do it. You should try to nap too while she’s asleep.”

The sight of him smiling down at her as she rubbed her fists tiredly against her eyes, his shirt stretching deliciously across his chest and the prominent curve of a bicep peeking through his sleeve as he held her, had your stomach twisting and wringing itself out like a rag. Even though your libido was as dry as the Sahara, everything Kento did still made your body react all the same.

You nodded again to his gentle suggestion; your voice once again empty. Another lift of his brow, stoic eyes carefully taking in the features of your face before you caught a flicker of mirth in them. It was quick and almost hard to miss, but you gathered the way his pupils expanded only for a second before relaxing back into place.  

He offered you a hand, his fingers flickering back towards himself in a come hither motion as he beckoned you silently toward him. You took his hand without question, trying and failing to keep your eyes from trailing up the expanse of his veiny arm as you walked around the couch and closer to him. His gentle grip tightened, a tug pulling you close and into the hard planes of his side, your body immediately enveloped in warmth from his touch. His own body was soft but the feel of his muscles beneath it all, warm and strong had you melting into him. The hand in yours trailed your forearm before sliding along the fabric of your back and nestling against your waist.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

He was goading you, egging you on just so he could watch your brown skin tint further with blush. And of course, with the smell of his eucalyptus shampoo and woodsy aftershave gliding up your nose and frying what little functional braincells you had, it was logical to give him exactly what he was looking for. You felt your face catch on fire as you nodded dumbly up at him and cursed inwardly as you watched the satisfaction fill his features as he took in the heavy blush on your cheeks and the bob of your Adam’s apple while you swallowed around the thick lump in your throat.

“And you’ll get some sleep? Take a nap for me?”

You narrowed your eyes up at him, trying your best to convey insolence even though the low pitch of his voice had you arching slightly against him. He smirked down at you, reveling at the poutiness of your face, a soft chuckle sliding up and out of his throat. That hand resting on your waist slid slowly up your back, along the expanse of your shoulder blade, along the skin of your trapezius muscle before settling hot and gentle on the crease of your neck. His hand was large enough to cover most of the side of your neck, long fingers scratching the scalp of your nape, and his thumb caressing the skin of your jaw. You couldn’t help the release of a shudder, your eyes fluttering and a soft breath leaving parted lips before you felt his hand angle your neck up, your lips tilting towards him and granting him access to lean down and slide his own against yours with ease.

Your eyes rolled behind closed lids, an exhale sliding from your nose and caressing his own face as his lips danced against yours. Even though it was weak and barely there, you welcomed that familiar lick of heat flaring subtly along the base of your spine.

Ulani’s babbling immediately zapped what little had lingered beneath your skin and Kento pulled away from you just as quickly, keeping your head at the distance he wanted with his gentle grip against the side of your neck. Ginger tea tinged breath danced along your cheeks as he breathed against you, another smirk pulling against his lips before he was muttering down at you.

“Be good for me, love and go take a nap.”

A smack against the thin material of your sweatpants, sudden and stinging, had you squeaking against him and that small flame inside of you flickering again. You pulled out of his hold and whirled around to the direction of your room before you could embarrass yourself further, your body practically pooling with sweat and heat from his words. His chest shook with laughter as he watched you scurry away from him, a hand flipping him off and your mouth cursing him before you rounded the corner and disappeared from his view.

***

So far, your birthday had been everything you could have asked for. You used to dread the day your thirtieth would come. You had fallen into the stigma of needing to have a set of accomplishments at this age, had let it rule over you as you worked yourself to the bone all through your twenties. Truth be told, Ulani had put a lot of things in perspective. Since the day you realized she would be a possibility, your entire world had flipped on its axis and made you rethink every priority you had set for yourself since high school.

The mangled strings of the relationship with your mother had finally gave under pressure and dissolved in the vat of acid it hung above for years. The job you had worked hard for had been ripped away from you. The existential question of who you wanted to be had suddenly been thrust front and center.

But even through that heartbreak and pain, you finally turned to the persistent voices of what you truly wanted. Through your uncle and Kento and Ome, you finally embraced that side of yourself that you had kept pushed down for so long. The Instagram Kento made for your art was steadily ringing with commissions, and while you only had time for one or two since Ulani’s birth, the newfound confidence and notoriety had set you on a path you were comfortable to walk down for the foreseeable future.

You were still figuring it all out, but that was the point. Thirty was by no means old and you finally understood that. Now that you were finally on the path you wanted to be on, the possibilities made more sense.

So even though today was just like any other birthday, you could confidently say it marked a shift in your life that you could finally be proud of.

When you woke from your nap, Ulani showered you with sloppy and drool filled birthday kisses. Ome, Kaya, and Shoko yanked you out of the house for an afternoon of shopping, a great Ramen lunch, and a manicure and pedicure to top it off. You were practically aching for Ulani when you walked into the door but the sight of your daughter gurgling on Kento’s chest as he laid on the floor of your living room and spoke to her, an arm around to cradle her, and the deep brown of Aiko’s hair splattered against his other arm as she snored against his side…the sight of it made your heart clench tighter and a smile stretch on your face.

You had expected to be brought to a nice restaurant filled with people who dressed far more extravagantly than you and a menu with not a price in sight. But Kento knew you would be uncomfortable; he knew you wouldn’t want to wear a dress that was probably too tight and be around people who only made you feel more insecure in yourself. So, he surprised you with a billowy navy sweater dress that fit against you comfortably and dragged you to an alley of Nakameguro filled with street food. With Ulani in the care of his parents, you both were free to relax and enjoy the cool night air of the city. You indulged in yakitori, karaage, and crepes; Kento finished an entire Okonomiyaki and a beer without an ounce of remorse. You complained of not being able to have a bite, he placated you with a miniscule sip of what remained of his beer.

As you both walked the busy streets in the direction of the car and with your head resting against his arm, you felt sated and happy.

“One last stop.”

His voice pulled you out of your reverie as you turned with him to face the business you had stopped in front of. From what you could see through the glass storefront, the establishment was closed but the lights inside dim. An old gallery that you and Chiyo passed during your morning walks often but never paid much attention to. It typically was only open when there was an exhibit and the last one was right when Ulani was born.

He ignored your worried protests as he opened the door and walked inside, pulling you with him with a soft chuckle.

“Kento, this is trespassing!”

“My love, the door was open.”

Your mouth was open and ready to fire away a retort before the lights brightened.

What you previously had thought to be an empty room was actually filled and laid out carefully with ceramic art. Black stone pillars at various distances around the gallery were topped with pieces that you immediately recognized. The gasp left your mouth before you could stop it and you were squealing and rushing to the first pillar next to you as you took in the monolith sculpture. To anyone else, it was a large block. But you could see every intricacy and detail beneath it. Different layers of clay had been pressed and molded together, glazed with a mixture of colors that made each layer shine fluorescent as they stacked on top of each other. Whatever technique it was, the artist had used it to make geometric shapes of various sizes. Cubes, cylinders, hexagons, and spheres; some as short as your shin and others as tall as Kento. Your body was humming with electricity as you took it all in, your eyes falling to the small inscription beneath the work of art to confirm the source.

“Choso Kamo! This is his gallery. We have to find out when this opens, I have so many questions.”

“You can him if you want.”

You threw Kento an odd look, taking in his indifferent gaze that blanketed a layer of mirth as he flickered his gaze over your shoulder. You heard the rustle behind you, eyes wide in shock. Turning slowly and refraining—and failing—from pulling in an embarrassingly loud breath, Choso Kamo stood on the other side of the black stone pillar.

While a few inches shorter than Kento, his stance was just as imposing, shoulders just as broad. Stringy black hair tied up into two buns with thick bangs hanging down each side of his face, deep purple eyes with a ring of purple beneath thick lashes that made him look exhausted, and the characteristic birthmark of a line across the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he belonged in the dark, as if he slept in the moist corners of alleys and only rose with the moon. To others he probably was someone you would never try to talk to, but his well known innocence and shy nature was palpable in the small space between you both.

You nodded politely in his direction, muttering your name through excited lips and smiling softly as he bowed respectfully.

“I’ve followed your work since my freshman year of college. You’re definitely one of my favorites.”

The soft smile he shot your way was kind and gentle, small purple pupils reminiscent of Geto shining back at you.

“Then it would be an honor to show you around.”

Kento was the last thought on your mind as you walked with Choso to each black stone pillar. He described every work of art to you in detail, answered every question around soft chuckles while you rambled aimlessly over everything you had studied over the years, and even discussed what his plans were for the exhibit. Monolith sculptures, terracotta figurines of ancient Japanese artifacts and monsters, disfigured heads made with metal, stone, and wood. So many pieces of his craft made with different firing techniques and materials and all right in front of you.

He was the same age as you, and the perfect example of someone who had taken a hobby and morphed it into something beautiful. When you had your first internship, he was already teaching classes at a small studio near his home in Okinawa. While your days were filled with paperwork and marketing presentations, Choso was already working on a handful of commissions and building his fanbase. Life could have gone so much differently for you.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but before you knew it, your feet had landed right back at the front of the exhibit, your heart filling with disappointment even in the mix of excitement and happiness.

“I cannot begin to convey how wonderful this has been, Choso. Thank you so, so much for entertaining me.”

He waved you off, throwing another characteristic soft smile your way before his eyes were flickering away from you and back again. In the short time of being around him, he didn’t particularly exude confidence. While his work spoke for itself and he knew he was successful, if you put him in a room full of people, you hardly would have noticed him, and you’re sure he would have liked it that way. He was quiet and just as reserved as Kento, his face looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, but when he spoke about his work, the fondness and pride in his gaze and voice was hard to ignore.

“I actually was wondering if I could commission some of your work?”

You blanched, brows furrowing quickly in confusion and your head tilting to let the sudden fog in your head slide out of your ear. He swallowed stiffly before clearing his throat.

“I apologize, I’m not the best at conversation unless someone is asking me about my work. What I mean to say is, I’ve heard a lot about you, and I would be honored if you could make something for me.”

Your mind was reeling with the implications of his words. Kento, who had yet to utter a word since walking into the gallery with you, remained quiet as he took in the interaction in front of him.

“How did you know that I—”

“I like the work of artists who are fresh into the world. But artists who actually know what they are doing.” He interrupted you, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans, his body stiffening further as he tried to ignore the shock on your face. “A few weeks ago, I found out that I have a half-brother. Yuji.”

The sound of his name in the air as it fell from his lips made him relax instantly, his bored eyes softening as they met yours.

“It’s a long story, but as soon as he found out what I do for work, he was telling me everything about you. He’s very…loquacious and once I saw your page, I knew I had to have some of your work.” His head gestured to the silent man next to you. “Nanami-san and Yuji organized this whole thing so I could meet you.”

You whipped your head over to look up at him, mouth gaping as his eyes met yours. Serious brown pupils danced as he looked down at you, an eyebrow lifting and the corners of his lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. Of course he would do something like this.

Leave it to Kento to—

“I know with a new baby that things are hectic, and we can easily work with your schedule. But…I would really love to have something of yours in my home.”

The stinging in the back of your eyes was hard to ignore, prickling along the edges of your lashes with every blink as you struggled to maintain your composure. The feel of Kento’s hand, hot and firm against the small of your back, tethered you into this moment. You shot Choso a small smile.

“I would love that.”

You were on cloud nine the entire walk to the car, chatting excitedly to a quiet but listening Kento as he buckled you in and pulled onto the now quiet streets of Nakameguro. Your mind was spinning with the possibilities, already crafting up sketches of what you could make before you realized you were on a familiar elevator and not at the front door of your home.

“Why are we at your apartment? What about Ulani?”

“My parents have volunteered to watch her tonight,” The faint whiff of vanilla hit your nose as you followed him into his home.

“They are staying at your home, so they have everything they need. My mother texted me an hour ago. Ulani is bathed, satiated with a good book, and sleeping. They will take turns at night with her.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand stroking the side of your arm. “Are you comfortable with that?” Even though you were elated for a little more free time, you couldn’t help the twinge of guilt in the pit of your stomach. “Don’t feel guilty, please. My mother practically begged me to watch her. I’ve never seen her glare at me so much in her entire life, when I tried to refuse.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that shot from your throat, your shoulders relaxing as you let the anxiety dissipate into the air. Chiyo and Santo knew what they were doing.

Sensing the shift in you, Kento took your hand in his, squeezing once to spread the warmth up your arm before leading you to his long sofa and setting you down on the cushions. You watched him sink down to his knees in front of you, his mouth in a firm but relaxed line as he reached down to fumble with the strap of your boots, blonde loose hair falling in front of his eyes and concealing his expression from you.

Your teeth dug into the moist skin of your lips, helping the urge to keep yourself quiet as he slid off your shoes and ran warm calloused hands up your stocking covered calves. The urge to tease stabbed the muscles of your cheeks right on cue, your mouth opening as his eyes caught yours.

“You’re plotting something.”

A small huff, the air from his nose brushing against your knuckles as they dug into the material at your knees.

“I appreciate all that you do for Ulani. And while I do what I can, there are some things that biologically I am unable and instinctually that I cannot feel.” With long hands, he reached behind you to unclasp the latch of your silver diamond necklace. “I read that mother’s tend to feel ‘touched out’ after so much physical contact after birth. I try not to touch you as much as I can. In reality, it comes so naturally to me that I hardly notice until it’s already happening. But I know with you constantly having to breastfeed and pick her up and hold her and interact with her day in and day out, you can start to feel as if your body is not your own.”

He took off your earrings and undid the clip in your hair, your curls falling down your back.

“You do so well with her, you’re a lifeline to me in a way that I can’t explain and you guide me with the things I struggle with in my care for her. But I don’t ever want you to feel as if you are drowning. So tonight, you’re going to take a bath and relax and be alone for as long as you want.”

You blinked away the mistiness in your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest from the waves of affection thrumming through your veins. For as much of a gentleman that Kento was, you had expected him to try and make a move on you. But it was your anxiety talking, you knew it was. He knew from your reluctance to look in the mirror and the large shirts you always wore that it would be awhile before you felt comfortable with yourself. He had shown a relaxed side of himself as you both scarfed down greasy food, had shown his care and love by surprising you with a tour and commission from your favorite artist, and now he was showing his devotion and attention to detail by giving you time for yourself.

Kento was of course, being Kento.

You licked your lips, reaching up to brush locks of hair from his forehead and watching with soft revere as they slid back into place.

“And what if I don’t want to be alone?”

“Then you can take a bath and relax…and then we will do whatever you want.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and breathing in the richness of his cologne. He reacted on instinct, his own muscular arms wrapping around your waist, his hands rubbing along the clothed skin of your back and his lips pressing into the crease of your neck that had your throat drawing tight and your eyes blinking away another onslaught of tears.

You sniffed harshly against him; your lashes wet as you gazed at your dim reflection in his television.

“I’ll take a bath…but then we could watch the season finale of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City? It’s all over the internet. I think there was a fight.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

And an hour after you had taken a long hot bath and moisturized your skin and he had braided your hair back before throwing your bonnet on, you relaxed against the soft cushions of his sofa with your bare legs propped on his lap. A pale arm reached for you, his hand outstretched and beckoning before you placed a few kernels of popcorn in his hand. Since playing the episode, his eye’s hadn’t left the screen. You had been in this very position so many times and it still astonished you just how engrossed he could become with a bunch of rich white women bickering at each other. Eyes unblinking, he threw the popcorn in his mouth, chewing softly as Heather Gay screamed at another woman on the television.

A jabbing insult, something that he hadn’t expected, and his eyebrows were twitching in shock before a sharp chuckle shook from his chest.

He needed to be studied.

A flicker of movement made his gaze turn to yours, eyes softening as he took you in. He rubbed the skin of your leg beneath the throw blanket atop of you.

“A good birthday then?”

Another harsh insult, yelling filled with censored sound effects and going on for what felt like a full minute had his eyes flickering back to the screen immediately, his entire face shifting with the surprise of missing something.

You laughed harshly, sighing into the cushions and burrowing further into the blankets. His thumb traced a random pattern on the skin of your knee, his chest shaking in silent laughter as he watched the women bicker.

“Definitely a good birthday.”

***

Kento returned to work in November when Ulani was a little over four months old. You practically forced him out of the house at five am to get him back into the swing of routine with his morning run. And even after making you a small breakfast and getting himself ready for work, he hung by the front door, trying his best to stay close as Ulani looked up at him tiredly from her perch in your arms.

He hated being away from you both. Work wasn’t an issue; he could turn it off and on in the blink of an eye. It was attending meeting after meeting when he could be helping you at home. It was eating lunch with Yuji with a small smile as he listened to him jabber when he would have been much happier if his daughter was in his arms and reaching for his fork. He missed you both.

So, you decided to surprise him at the end of the week with Ulani strapped snuggly to your chest and a bento for lunch. You hadn’t been inside of the office since being let go months before. You hadn’t expected to ever come back really. But thankfully, everyone that remembered you from before flocked to you immediately, cooing over your daughter as she giggled at them. With Mahito’s termination and revelation that he and the higher ups had used your ideas to gain intel from other companies, to everyone else, it was a joy to see you again.

Yaga, who offered you a very affectionate but stiff nod when he saw you, held your daughter with awkward hands, his tall form and stern face only earning him a displeased grunt from her as she wiggled to be let free. His words were always kind, but his demeanor had always rubbed hard as stone on you and others. He loved children but getting the words to come out and be affectionate was never his strength.

Geto, Gojo, and Yuji practically followed you into Kento’s office, falling over each other and trying to garner Ulani’s attention as she reached in their direction.

“I told you, she wants me.” Geto smacked Gojo’s hands away, earning a small yelp from the white haired man and a harsh glare. “Get your nasty, sugar coated hands away—"

Geto stopped talking immediately as Kento stood tall and dominating from his mahogany desk, strode over to you, and plucked his daughter from her carrier. Surprised but serene eyes behind his glasses gazed down at her.

“Hello, my dove.”

She squealed up at him, placing light brown hands on sharp cheekbones and effectively shutting up everyone in the room.

“Stay the rest of the day with me. You and Ulani.”

He muttered the words against the skin of your neck as you packed away the empty containers of both bentos on his desk.

“And where will Ulani go?”

“I brought a playmat from home and its stored in the closet. Just in case.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes playfully as you zipped up the bag.

“And where will I sit?”

“Simple. On my lap.”

The warmth from his chest leeched into the fabric of your shirt, bleeding through the wool of your sweater and onto your skin, goosebumps prickling in response. He kissed the skin softly, pulling a nervous giggle from your throat before you tried to wave him away.

You were getting there. With every touch from him in passing, the responding heat grew more and more, licking against the base of your spine and festering, demanding attention. You wanted him. You always did and you thankfully that feeling was returning since the baby had been born.

But you were so uncomfortable in your body. So unwilling to look in the mirror as you got dressed. So insecure and frustrated when you threw your favorite jeans into the back of your closet because they were too tight.

It was natural to feel this way. It was perfectly normal. But you felt like an alien in your own skin every single day.

He rubbed the sides of your arms, sensing your apprehension and adjusting to the change instantly by placing a kiss to your cheek instead. With your bag in hand and a kicking daughter strapped to your torso, you turned around to face him, your teeth digging into the skin of your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I—”

“Nanamin! Look who’s here. I didn’t realize your one o’clock appointment would be—”

Gojo stopped short, taking in you and Kento’s close proximity before wincing. Kento’s lunch hour had ended awhile ago and he had procrastinated just to keep you and Ulani with him longer.

Kento sighed softly to himself, waves of impatience hitting you from his breath as he straightened up and pressed his glasses further up his nose. You turned around to face Gojo, ready to make for the door, and suddenly wished you hadn’t.

Because Kento’s one o’clock appointment was a woman who was already smiling at you both. Taller than you but shorter than him, a strong jawline and button nose, a top lip slightly heavier than the bottom, prominent cheekbones and deep brown eyes framed with thick lashes. She was fucking beautiful. Her thick eyebrows had been plucked and grown out to look like the most natural thing in the world, her dark brown wavy hair hung loose over her shoulder, and her olive skin was covered in a sleek black dress and modest pumps.

What the fuck kind of appointment was this going to be?

“Kento. It’s so good to see you.”

And on a first name basis?

The smooth syllables of her voice sang sinfully in your ear. The rich Italian accent wasn’t hard to miss, it was heavy and fluid, clipping the edges of her words and making her slightly raspy tone more beautiful than what you wanted it to be.

Kento cleared his throat from behind you, shooting cold water down your spine and pulling your gaze away from her and to him. His eyes seemed…hesitant?

“Pia. It’s nice to see you as well. I’d like you to meet y/n, my partner. And this is our daughter.” Almond shaped eyes met yours again, a pearly white smile flashing at you and smacking you in the face.

What the fuck?

While you were thankful that Kento had immediately introduced you, you suddenly felt out of place between them all. Gojo with his beautiful snow white hair and ethereal blue eyes all wrapped up in expensive clothing, Kento with his own crisp tan slacks and blue button up, his yellow tie speckled black in that same outfit you had met him in, and this woman who you didn’t know, shining so brightly at you and making you feel weird and uncomfortable and insecure in your simple oversized sweater and jeans.

“Y/n, this is Pia Ranello, she represents a reputable wine company in Italy and is recruiting the company’s help for marketing in Japan. I thought they were sending your Director of Marketing here instead.”

Pia scoffed, waving an elegantly manicured hand, thin fingers brushing her hair off her shoulder and her throat shaking out a melodious laugh.

“When I heard you would be here, I jumped at the opportunity. Don’t be so rigid, Kento.” She rolled her eyes playfully, brown twinkling irises landing on you as she smiled again. “We used to date. Freshman through senior year of college.”

Huh?

“Is that so?” you masked the shock with a thin and tattered blanket of sarcasm, a small chuckle escaping your mouth as you glanced at Kento. His eyes were stoic and unmoving as ever, the most serious you had ever seen them and flickering between Gojo and Pia. “I’m sure his stoicism hasn’t changed them?”

A stupid giggle. “Not at all.”

A displeased noise from Ulani sprung you into action. Hopefully she was just as unhappy as you were. You squeezed the muscle of his clothed bicep, pulling his attention down to you so you could offer him a simple smile.

“I’ll see you later today. Have a good rest of your day.”

He leaned down before you had finished speaking, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek before returning the sentiment. You muttered a quick ‘nice to meet you’ in her direction and shot Gojo an annoyed glare before slinking past them both and out the door.

***

“Represents a reputable wine company, my ass! She’s a fucking wine magnate! Gojo said that they might have to go to Italy for this ‘project’ with her. I swear I’ll rip every last blonde hair from his head if Kento even approaches an airport.”

You rolled your eyes as Ome growled through the speaker of your phone, silver eyes glaring and unfocused on the shared screen as you watched her search the internet. Ulani was nursing in your lap, humming softly and fighting sleep. It was almost seven pm, and the quick phone call a few hours prior letting you know he would be working overtime for the first time since you both started dating, had your stomach in knots.

It was fine. Just overtime. Things happen.

It’s fine.

When she called you, you had barely gotten the threat to leave the subject alone before she was pulling up Instagram and digging in without a second thought.

You watched Ome scroll through her feed, doing your best to ignore the many shots on the beach, and exploits across the globe. She was dressed in every color under the sun, her olive skin glistening no matter the time of day, weather, or facial expression. They were simple pictures, but it showed that she was always on the go and always living in the most luxurious of standards. But those pictures soon gave way to single shots of her; dresses and outfits that were the most beautiful you had ever seen, hairstyles of grandeur and makeup of different shades that only enhanced her beauty as she walked across a catwalk in different shows.

“What year did Kento graduate college?”

“2016.”

You could tell where this was going, didn’t want to even admit the possibility. But the minute Ome clicked a photo and brought up an enhanced shot of her in a loose sage gown by Tony Ward, the date showing this was well into her college years, you knew.

“He dated a fucking supermodel.”

Your knotted stomach twisted tighter, pain shooting up your spine and making your eyes flutter.

“I don’t want to look anymore.”

She wasn’t listening, scrolling further and further down, getting earlier in the years. And then your heart stopped entirely. At the bottom of her profile, the very first photo she had posted, was a picture of them both. It was a shot she had clearly taken, only her legs visible as she sat stretched on a couch, a t-shirt stopping at the middle of her thighs and socked feet resting on the blanketed lap of a man. His face was obscured behind a book, head resting on the side of the cushion. But the messy, thick tufts of blonde hair were unmistakable. So was the familiar long fingers that had touched and caressed you that now lay on her legs in the photo.

“I said no more,” you snapped at her. Ulani wiggled in distress against you, settling back into your embrace immediately before she was humming and making noises again. Ome closed out of the app immediately, her face coming into view, guilty and surprised.

“I deserved that.”

You shook your head. “No, you don’t. I’m overreacting, I know I am. But…fuck if you saw her today Ome. I’m not a jealous person but she was fucking beautiful.”

“So are you.” You opened your mouth to argue with her but was immediately interrupted. “Stop it. You gave birth to an ENTIRE child. You were beautiful before, and you’re fucking gorgeous now. Ulani keeps me from throttling you, I swear. This feeling will pass, I promise you. And I’ll be there to help you along the way, okay?” You stroked the skin of your daughter’s cheek, earning a sleepy glance your way as she nursed. “How about we find and slash the tires of her limo that we both know she’s using to drive around.”

The comment pulled a surprised chuckle from your throat, Ome’s own raspy laugh pushing out the speaker and echoing through the room of your daughter’s nursery.

You were combing through wet hair, a thin robe covering your slightly damp skin when you heard the front door unlock and open. It was late, far past seven pm and far past your comfort when you thought about it. He was only working.

He wouldn’t do anything. Kento would never.

He wouldn’t.

But those familiar tendrils of anxiety, taunting and slimy, began to circle the exposed and moisturized skin of your calves as you stood up to make your way inside the large master bathroom. It was easier to look at your reflection when you had something on. Your eyes could rest easy as you plaited your hair and moisturized your arms. Pia’s body was probably naturally silky. The water in her shower no doubt danced off her skin as she bathed. It was probably soft and without blemish when Kento would bend her over bed and fuck her until—

Stop. Stop. Stop.

You shook away the thoughts, smoothing the last remnants of facial moisturizer on your cheek as the bathroom door opened and Kento leaned against the frame. His hair was free of gel, his glasses and tie gone, the top two buttons of his shirt taken loose.

“You’re upset with me.”

You fiddled with the end of one of your braids, twirling a finger around the damp strands.

“You never work overtime.” You couldn’t help how sarcastic your tone was as the words left you, your heart pumping irregularly against the inside of your chest. You back peddled. “Which is fine! I know that this project is pretty important—”

“It’s not.”

“And as a Director, you need to make sure things are in order and flowing in the right direction—”

“My love—”

You flinched from the name, interrupting again. “And Gojo says that you might have to go to Italy with her. Which would be a great opportunity to get the company notoriety in another country—”

“Y/n.”

Firm and steely, his voice low and heavy with that deep timbre that could make you do just about anything.

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to Italy.”

Oh.

“I spent my entire day working with her and Yaga so that I could pass the project on to someone else. The content schedule, marketing plan, a work agreement, and deliverables have been drafted up and the budget has been pushed to finance. While she will be in the office, I will have no dealings with her and once the project is done, she will be back in Italy for the foreseeable future.”

Oh.

You swallowed the sharp lump in your throat, the edges slicing the muscle and making your brows furrow as you thought of what to say.

And of course, you decided to put your foot in your mouth.

“It’s a shame you won’t see her as often. I’m sure you’ve missed her.”

“I beg your pardon?”

You fucking idiot.

Guilt licked your skin, its acid like touch making your body sting as you harnessed that small bucket of defiance that you usually used for moments like this and met his gaze. Fiery brown eyes met your own, dark blonde eyebrows arching in shock and confusion from your words.

“I said that I’m sure you’ve missed her. You dated for four years. All throughout college. She was a supermodel, and now she’s a fucking wine magnate. W-why wouldn’t you want to see her??”

He pushed from the door frame and was in your space before you could blink, his broad chest blocking the low lights of your bathroom, the faint scent of his favorite cologne fanning up your nose and making you dizzy. He was so close, every breath between you both brushed your robe covered chest against his shirt.

“What else then?”

You faltered from his question, trying to dig through the stony but heady gaze that was directed at you as you swallowed a flutter of butterflies before they could fly from your throat.

“And…and she’s beautiful really. She seems smart if she’s running her company. She’s successful and she’s traveled a lot and has money.”

“You’re rambling.”

You were. But you were also trying desperately to stay afloat as you felt him press impossibly closer to you. The feel of your bathroom counter brushing the fabric on your back had you staggering, hands reaching back to grip the cold stone and a shaky breath leaving your lungs.

“Do you doubt my loyalty to you?”

You shook your head immediately, all anxious thoughts of him coming home so late leaving you and ignoring the sudden sting in your eyes as you felt the last fragments of your defiance fade away between the small space of you both.

“I don’t. It’s just…how could you break up with something like that? She was apparently everything you wanted back then. But instead, you’ve settled with someone who sticks out like a sore thumb in this entire country. Who got laid off from her own fucking job and has a terrible relationship with her own family and who spends her free time playing with clay and paint. You settled with someone that can’t even look in the mirror at herself because all she sees are scars and body dysmorphia that’s so overwhelming that most of the time she can hardly breathe.”

What was left of your control of your tongue snapped and cracked against the muscle, flinching to yourself as you shook out another uneasy breath and pulled your gaze from him. All of your worries, all of your insecurities and self-conscious thoughts of not only this week, but since Ulani had been born had suddenly been brought to the forefront and pushed between you both, escaping your mouth with no intention of holding back.

“I’m not a jealous person. I never have been. But it’s so hard for me to feel like myself when the mothers I see on my walks with Chiyo with babies Ulani’s age look just like Pia. I know this will get better. I don’t want to look like a fucking model. I just want to feel comfortable. I shouldn’t be so self-deprecating. Lately, it’s just hard not to be. I’ve never felt more insecure and out of my skin and hideous in my entire life.”

You blinked away the thick tears in your eyes, cursing sharply into the stiff air of your bathroom as you wiped the tears roughly from your cheeks. The embarrassment and shame was so thick in your stomach, heavy as lead and churning to make you nauseous. You wanted to walk away from him, bury yourself beneath the duvet on your bed and hide away until you could stomach your own existence again.

He was silent for far too long, his eyes taking you in as he watched you wipe away your tears with a frustrated expression. He had known you were struggling, had tried his very best to make you feel seen and loved without overwhelming you. But now he could finally see just how broken down you were. He had underestimated it all. In his eyes, you were beautiful. He had felt that way even when he couldn’t stand your presence, had felt that way as he watched Ulani grow within you, and had felt that way to a much higher degree as he watched you crying, screaming, and sweaty in his arms as you did the one thing not many could do.

And now you were struggling to stay afloat, struggling to look at yourself and see that to him, you were everything in whatever form you came.

He pulled in a slow, relaxed breath, empathetic and serious eyes watching you try to pull yourself together as he spoke.

“I broke up with Pia our senior year. I loved her, or at least I thought I did and she helped me not be so awkward and stiff around others. But we were completely different people. At first she was loving and kind. But eventually she grew vindictive and crude to others and it took me a long time to see because she was my first love. She fell into modeling because it was easy for her and many already looked to her because of her beauty. She became a wine magnate because her father owns a multibillion dollar company and left it to her in the will when he passed away a few years ago. She came to my company because she has no idea what she is doing and thought she could get a discount on the budget because she knows me.”

Of course, there was a logical explanation. Of fucking course.

You couldn’t help the blush of embarrassment that colored your cheeks as his clarifying words settled on your shoulders. Your teeth worried your bottom lip, pulling and kneading at the already split muscle while you kept your eyes focused on his sock covered feet on your shiny bathroom floor.

A press of his thumb to your bottom lip made you jump and with a small tug he pulled your lip free before smoothing over the split skin with the pad of his finger. It trailed down the short span of your chin, applying small pressure and pulling your head up to meet his commanding gaze.

“Yes, Pia is beautiful. But when I look at her, I do not see much else besides the reasons I would never want to be with her again. When I look at her, I don’t see her snapping at me because I didn’t agree with her ideas or slapping me across the face because I spoke disrespectfully or challenging me every day to do better and not run away from myself.”

You made to turn your head away, but his gentle grip on your chin tightened slightly, pulling you back to face him wordlessly. He stroked the drying streaks of tears from the sides of your face, the warmth from his hands making the blood in your cheeks boil and the blush deepen against him.

“When I look at her, I don’t see someone who can touch anything and make it beautiful or someone who gave me a child…or someone that I want a future with.”

Your caught the slight crease between his brows and the flash of pain in his irises.

“Stop comparing yourself to Pia. The line between you and her or any other woman in my life, is and always will be nonexistent.”

The words fell from his lips with not a care in the world, so natural and free and without a second thought. The feel of his hands on your upper arms caught you by surprise, but you were swallowing the question as he gently turned you around to face the long mirror in your bathroom. Only the lights above your shower and along the mirror in front of you were on; the shadows casting against the sharp cheekbones of Kento’s face as he looked at you in your reflections made you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Do you remember what you did for me? When I was the most intoxicated I had ever been in my life and grieving over Yu?” You nodded, your tongue thick in your mouth, you skin humming with static as you felt and watched him take your thick braids loose. “I knew exactly what I needed to do to cope and never had the strength; and you made me see reason. You walked into my house and turned me the way I needed to so that I could heal the right way. Shall I do the same for you?”

“Kento—”

“You never look in the mirror when you get dressed, and that simply won’t do. Not tonight.”

You could taste the apprehension in the air as he spoke, your hands wringing together to fight off the nerves as you dug them into the thin cotton of your robe. Your hair, now unbraided and slightly damp, brushed against the fabric of your back, providing a thin cushion between you and the warmth of Kento’s chest. Your curls framed the sides of your face, dark tendrils pressing to the skin of your cheeks and neck as you felt his hands slide along the covered skin of your back and down to wrap around your waist. The whiff of his cologne was sharp, caressing your body and massaging along the goosebumps that had sprouted again beneath your robe.

“Look in the mirror.”

Even though his words were gentle, there was no mistaking the demand that was buried beneath. With a thick swallow, you slid your eyes up to your reflection. Your breathing was uneven and staggering as you leaned into his embrace. Your cheeks were darker with blush, your eyebrows pinched with worry as you met his gaze. Long fingers ran over the tie of your robe, his veiny forearms flexing from the movement of his tendons as he pulled the tie loose.

You grabbed his hands harshly, your fingers digging into the skin of the tops of his palms, your eyes widening at the sight of your white panties and the exposed skin above it. Your heart hammered in your chest, those tendrils of anxiety chuckling evilly as they coiled around your arms like a snake and plucked painfully at the sides of your fingers, beckoning for you to let go.

“Kento.”

“Do you wish for me to stop?”

The question made you pause, the sincerity in his voice laced with concern and regard for your own comfort. You pushed back against the insistence of your nerves, ignored the burning sensation inside of you as they distressed at the ends. In the mirror, you watched your fingers relax against him, crescent moons from your nails popping against the stretch of smooth skin. You couldn’t stop the slight tremble in your body as your hands fell to your sides and your robe fell open, revealing the soft skin of your belly and the corners of your breasts.

His gaze watched you as you remained locked on his fingers while they splayed along the skin of your stomach. What was once barely noticeable planes of muscle had stretched to their limit to accommodate a child. And now, those planes were gone, smoothed over with skin that was littered in stretch marks along your sides and around your belly button. They were faint and while you knew they would fade into practically nothing overtime, in your eyes they were as bright as the sun, blaring like sirens and screaming at you every time you looked down.

But Kento traced the marks as if they were the most precious things to him, the pads of his fingers skimming along the minutely raised and shiny skin. His adoration for you was abundant, emanating from the tips of his fingers as they traced from beginning to end, relaxing you slowly, loving you slowly. Warmth slid up the sides of your torso, caressing the skin still covered as he trailed them up your arms and to the tops of your shoulders. He worried the hem of your robe for only a second before hooking a finger beneath each side and sliding the garment off your shoulders so it could pool on the floor.

You were quick to cover your breasts with one hand, your body shaking from the cold air hitting the rest of your skin and the exposure of being laid out in front of him. One hand rested against the curve of your waist while the other trailed along the skin of your arm, covering your hand and stroking the skin of the back of your palm. With each soft stroke he asked for permission wordlessly, caressed your nerves until they were compressed enough to help you breath just a little easier.

You sighed shakily, fingers flinching against him as they relaxed with his touch and fell away to rest at your side. Your breasts had changed, bigger but not by much and nipples a little perter because of pumping and breastfeeding. But lately when you looked at them, they only felt like tools for sustenance, not the appealing or sexy like you felt before.

He brushed the curls off your shoulders, exposing your entire front before wrapping his arms around your chest and resting his chin on your shoulder. You looked away quickly, focusing on the marble of your countertop instead. You could feel his gaze through your reflection roving over your body, taking in every inch of you.

“Look at me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, pursing your lips to fight off a sneer as his words poked at you.

“Y/n.” Firmer this time and more insistent, your eyes flickering up to meet his in the mirror.

“I can talk until I am blue in the face, because at the end of the day your feelings are yours and yours alone. But I need you to understand that this is beautiful.” His hands traced along the sides of your thicker thighs, pressing into the skin to watch it pillow and dimple around his fingers. They slid up to caress your stretch marks again, bringing fire in their wake with his words and burning a trail to the spot between your legs that you hadn’t thought about in months. “These, something that shows just how far your body would go to bring our daughter into this world…these are beautiful.”

You melted further into him, letting the hard muscle of his chest mold against your back and the bracketing of his arms around you sink further into the skin of your waist. The place between your thighs roaring slowly to life, embers licking low and steady as they pressed against the tight cage of your repressed libido. Fingertips of his thumbs traced lightly against the skin on the side and under your breast, the skin jiggling from your staggered breath at his touch.

“Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing I have and will ever see. Like you say, with time, that feeling will pass. But I need you to understand that every part of you is beauty. The only flaw that I see is your own reluctance to understand that.”

You blinked away the fogginess in your vision, your eyes betraying you as he studied your expression in the mirror, unmoving, breath fanning against your neck as his chin remained perched on your shoulder.

“And you still want me?”

“You know the answer to that question, and it will never change.”

His answer was instant and resolute, his tone without any modicum of hesitation. The corners of your lips curled just so, offering him a gentle smile as he glared playfully at you in the mirror.

“Would you like me to show you?”

Your ears were ringing from the question, high decibels blaring down your eardrums as you grew hot all over. One of his hands brushed your curls over one shoulder, exposing the side of your neck to him.

“I…I suppose you could. Will you be fair?

A chuckle into your neck as full lips pressed against the skin made your stomach flutter.

“Always.”

“A near naked woman in your arms and you lie through your teeth. I should have expected as much.”

Another chuckle, sharper this time and filled with warmth, his arms wrapping around your waist again and pulling you close, nuzzling his neck into the heat of your skin and inhaling the smell of your lilac body wash. The sound of him against you, rumbling your anxiety loose and pushing it away, made your stomach swoop in sudden lust as you felt his hand brush along the hem of your panties.

Your skin twitched to the touch, arching away from the stimulation and then relaxing against his fingers as they danced against you. You watched them in the mirror, flicking the edge of your underwear, his lips pressing a kiss behind your ear before he slid his hand down. You gasped sharply at the feeling of him on you and sliding a finger between your folds, pushing through surprising wetness.

You were worried that with breastfeeding it would be next to impossible to feel this way again and while you weren’t all the way to feeling like you were before, you were so fucking thankful that you could get wet, let alone be aroused at his touch. One of your hands grabbed him, keeping you trussed to his actions so you could fall into his practiced hands as two thick digits circled your clit. The whine that oozed out of your throat creaked from a place inside of you that was slowly coming alive, desire fanning the flames in your belly to make them grow more and more as you felt him dip his middle finger down to gather the slick at your entrance.

“Don’t look away or else I’ll have to stop.”

Your eyes slid back up to meet your own, cheeks ruddy with mild awkwardness as you watched him trail his other hand up your torso to palm your breast. He was gentle with you, caressing your skin and reveling in your breathy sighs as he stroked your clit in the way he knew. The base of your spine tensed, sparks of that white hot feeling you loved beginning to tease you from the inside out and pull you tight. His breath against your neck was deep and slow, trying to keep himself composed even though his own cock was twitching in his pants with every wet swipe of his fingers against you. You were holding back, still too tense against him and fighting the pleasure to just let go and allow him to take you exactly where you wanted to be.

A twist of your nipple made you yelp, painful pleasure zipping down your spine and festering with the boiling of heat at the base of you. You moaned, relaxing into him all the way. Finally.

“There she is,” he whispered into the skin behind your ear, picking up the tempo of his fingers on your clit and tweaking the nipple that was in his other hands, his fingers slightly wet from a little breastmilk. You blushed harder at the sight, mortified even though you were whining as he pinched and tweaked.

He loved you in every way, in every shape, in every form; but watching you fall apart against him always held a special place in his mind. It was sacred, locked away and only to be looked at unless it was just you both.

“Kento,” you shook out against him, the hand not clenching the arm in your panties shooting up to bury in his hair, fingers tightening in his locks. The muscles in your lower back wound tighter, heat licking your skin, burning your muscles and making you shake against him as your first orgasm in months can brimming to the surface.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Whatever you desire.” His words were whispered sin, dripping like honey on the skin of your neck that had you whining harshly in response and your cunt dripping against his fingers. “But look at me first.”

You obeyed immediately, snapping your gaze to his and swallowing the gasp at the dark gaze staring back at you. Thin rings of brown were hooded, shrouded by thick lashes and a layer of blonde hair over his eyebrows as he leered at you through the mirror. He wasn’t even fingering you and your body was trembling with a release that you knew would be thunderous.

Your eyes honed on the movement of him behind your panties, the fabric rustling with the flex of his fingers as he stroked you once and then twice, pulling that heat of pleasure up from the base of your spine and through your skin. You hiccupped, gasping harshly, arching against him as you buried your head into his shoulder behind you and crying out softly into the air of your bathroom. Your muscles spasmed, squeezing tight in muscle memory as your orgasm washed over you in one hot wave.

He slowed his strokes, tracing gently against your clit and kissing along the side of your throat as you panted against him.

“More.”

Your back rumbled from the tenor of his voice as he chuckled against you, continuing to trace your clit with messy fingers. You whined against the overstimulation even though you could taste the hints of pleasure beneath.

“Tell me what you want.”

You pressed your hand against his still in your underwear, brushing him firmly against your clit and guiding him further, two of his fingers could slide into your entrance with only a little resistance.

He exhaled against you, cock throbbing painfully along the seam of his slacks as you whimpered from his movement inside of you. You whispered his name into the air, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as you pushing his fingers harder into your cunt, silently demanding that he finger you deeper. And like a sirens call, he obeyed you without complaint, sliding another to make three as he pumped over and over, his fingers covered in copious and shocking amounts of your slick, stretching you in the way you wanted so you could demand his cock after another orgasm.

And it didn’t take long before you were arching against him again, squeezing his fingers and pulling a hot groan against the skin of your neck as another orgasm washed over you minutes later, your body sweaty against the clothes he was still wearing. He pressed a searing kiss to the skin of your neck, shaking out a staggering breath against you. He was practically tearing through his slacks, aching and hot against the cleft of your ass as he refrained from rutting against you. You watched with panting breaths as he popped each slick covered finger into his mouth, cleaning the digits with his eyes locked on yours through your reflection. Your stomach gave a heaving lurch at the sight, your mouth opening of its own volition and spilling out the very first thought in your lust addled mind.

“More…please more. I need you.”

He didn’t give it a second thought.

The sound of his zipper and belt coming undone made your heart soar in your chest, your thick and hot blood pumping faster through your veins as you watched him in the mirror. His hair was a mess, free of its typical part and gel and brushing against his eyebrows with movement as he freed himself from the confines of his pants, the cold air making him hiss against the skin of your shoulder.

You leaned forward without having to be told to rest your hands on your bathroom counter, exposing more of his torso to you in the mirror as you got into position. His blue shirt was ruffled, the top buttons still undone and free from a tie as he breathed heavily. The brown slacks had been opened, the zipper and belt askew and his cock hanging hot and thick in between, red at the tip and twitching to be inside of you. He couldn’t help the groan in the back of his throat as he took in the length of your naked back as you stretched out for him, dark curly hair falling over your shoulders as he trailed a hand down your skin.

You jumped from the feel of his lips against the small of your back, kissing up your spine and making your skin prickle with his trailing touch. You turned your head to take in his heated expression, blown out pupils and ruddy cheeks, messy blonde hair and hot hands against your waist before he kissed you for the first time since walking into the house. It was messy and quick, filled with love but desperate to focus back on the task at hand.

“Keep your hands on the counter and don’t look away. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded wordlessly, earning another wet kiss to your lips before one of his hands gripped your chin and turned you gently to face your reflection. The press of him against wet folds made you gasp, your mind suddenly thankful you made Dr. Williams triple check the placement of your IUD after your six week checkup. While you loved Ulani with your entire being, you didn’t want another child anytime soon.

The stretch of him inside you felt like the greatest high, reigniting dormant nerves and zipping electricity along your spine as you moaned softly from the feel of your body making room. It had been too long without him and even though your muscles fought through the stretch, you welcomed him again with a grip that had him groaning softly into the space between your shoulder blades. Your lashes fluttered and your throat struggled to swallow around the saliva pooling in the back of your mouth. So full, so, so full and stretching you to the point until you felt that familiar twinge of pain before it subsided and faded away. The feeling of his hips flush against you made you whimper into the air, your shoulders shaking as you held yourself up.

He started slow, using the signals from your body to guide him into a rhythm that helped you accommodate to him after so long. You kept your eyes open, his demands replaying in your head as you fought through the shame of looking at yourself sweaty and exposed, mouth parted and whimpering as he thrust through wet rings of muscle.

You had read so many stories. Postpartum mothers who couldn’t even enjoy sex almost a year after birth. But thankfully not you. You were so happy that you could enjoy this, so fucking elated that you were dripping and wanting for him, accepting him inside you without dryness or complaint. You thought it would be so much worse. You were lucky, lucky and head in the clouds from two orgasms and a thick cock that you missed so much picking up its pace inside of you.

“You see how beautiful you are to me?”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even begin to form words as that haze of lust and pleasure began to cloud every inch of your mind. The steady strokes of him dug deep, kissing spots inside of you that only he could touch, only he would ever know, only he would be able to pick apart over and over until you were a sobbing, moaning, panting mess.

Dark eyes glinted at you through the mirror, muscular hips delivering a sharp thrust that made you moan in response, your lips parting and teeth catching the plushness of your bottom lip, digging into the flesh hard so you could keep quiet while your daughter slept.

You didn’t have to tell him what spot to touch or what angle to fuck you. He knew, had perfected the art in only a short time, and already that coil of pleasure was tightening like a vice in your stomach, your muscles pulling taught and fingers sliding against the cool marble of your countertop as you tried to ground yourself into the present.

He caught on, he always did, bringing one of your legs up and bending it to rest on the counter, opening yourself up further for him and pulling another loud moan from your lips as your muscles tightened further and further, your cunt squeezing and tightening, milking him for all he was worth as your orgasm teased along every inch of your skin.

“So long, so long since I’ve had you and you’re just as tight. Just as beautiful. Taking me as if no time has passed at all.”

With another harsh thrust, your mind had slipped away entirely, whimpers and moans leaving your lips of their own accord as he began to fuck you with an intensity that had you choking on a hiccup.

“You honestly think I would look at anyone else?”

His voice was dark against you, hot and dominating against your skin. You met his gaze in the mirror, shaking your head quickly in response as your tongue rocked dry and thick in your mouth. Satisfied with your response, he brought one hand to wrap around your upper torso sliding beneath your breasts and pulling you up and against him, arching your back and displaying your entire form into the mirror as he fucked you at a pace that brought stars into your vision.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he whispered into your ear, hot breath puffing and dispelling your hair that was matted to your cheek.

“I’ll never want anyone else. I would tear down the world for you, do anything you asked of me, give you whatever you wanted.”

“Please, please, please,” you were chanting airily against him, body practically limp in his arms and numb with pleasure as he brushed against the spongy wall inside of you, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through the fluttering cunt around him and to the pool of heat in your lower back. “Oh god, Kento.”

“Tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want from me and I’ll give you it all.”

The demand pulled a shudder against him, your eyes locked with his in the mirror as you molded parted lips to speak.

“Harder…so good. Fucking me so w-well. I can’t—”

“You can.”

A sharp whine shook from your mouth, eyes rolling before meeting his again, moans growing in length as he snapped over and over inside of you, brushing against those spots inside of you with a precision that never failed to make you breathless.

“Stop doubting my love and devotion to you. I’m yours, always. And you’re mine. Always mine. Forever mine.”

You nodded breathlessly, agreeing but unable to speak as moan after moan shook from your dry throat, saliva dried up and tongue thick in the back of your mouth. Your entire body was on fire, your skin sweaty, your lungs burning with each ragged breath that shook from you too soon. You were taut like a wire, each end pulling and pulling, the strands trembling from the force and screaming to snap as he drove up into you.

You couldn’t take much more, the lines of pleasure and overstimulation blurring together and creating a sensation that had left you delirious. You had been cracked open, laid bare with every insecurity since giving birth and forced to realize just how little he agreed, how little believed of the irrational thoughts in your head.

And as if he could read your mind, the hand on your waist slid down to your core, stroking your clit and pulling a jagged yelp out of your throat from the contact.

He knew every tell of your body, your skin carved with the most ancient of languages that only he could read and understand. He was everything you would ever want, everything you would ever need.

Only Kento.

“Tell me.”

It was a demand repeated so often when you both made love. He had to know he was making you feel good, needed to hear the words come from your mouth through staggered breath in a staccato that had become his favorite song. Your words filled him with pride, with love, with satisfaction in knowing he was bringing you to nirvana with the swing of his hips, and the words from his mouth, and his hands on your skin.

From the cadence of his breath against you, you could tell that he was close. You were right there as well, pushed to the edge of the cliff and begging for something to finally tip you over the edge.

“I love the way you fuck me.”

He groaned against you in response, digging his teeth into the crease of your neck and pulling a sharp gasp from you as his thrusts grew more insistent, more rushed, more sloppy.

“More,” he growled, pulling a shudder down your spine.

“You…you always know just what to do. You always know just how I like it. You always can fuck me so well. I love it.”

He could barely see, spots in his vision, his balls drawing tight with each stroke as the promise of an orgasm grew closer with each clench of your walls around him. He was almost there and so were you, so fucking close.

“Oh please Kento—I’m going to cum! Please—”

“What are you?”

“Yours! I’m yours, always! Ken—”

The flicker of the nickname tugged a pleasing jolt behind his belly button. He groaned harshly against you, soft moans fanning over your neck as he slid next to you on that cliff, clasping your hands with his. He stroked your clit faster, applying pressure to the bundle of nerves that had you flinching harshly against him in surprise and another yelp bubbling to the surface. A warm hand clasped over your mouth, covering the noise that left you before it could escape to the open air and waft down to the nursery where Ulani slept.

You cunt spasmed around him, signaling the brief lapse of time before you were ready to let go. He caught on immediately, licking the skin of your ear and biting your earlobe before sighing against you.

“You can do it, love. I can feel you right there. Look me in the eyes and cum on my cock like the sweet little thing you are.”

That was all it took, blown out eyes meeting your own, a large hand covering your mouth, another digging into the flesh of your breasts, and one, two, three fluid and sharp strokes against the sponginess of your walls before you were shaking and drawing tight, eyes fluttering to stay open as you wailed against his hand.

Your eyes clenched shut from the force, the corners prickling with faint tears from the strength as you moaned against him. Your orgasm was stronger than the last two, yanking what little energy you had left and leaving exhaustion in its wake as your muscles bunched and contracted against each other, hot pleasure oozing along the crevices of your vertebrae and pooling to cooling lava at the base of your spine.

The feel of you around him pushed him over, his hands tightening against your breast and over your mouth before pushing one last sharp thrust inside of you, his teeth digging into your neck and a harsh moan thrumming against the skin as his cock twitched violently before spilling inside the heat of your weakening walls.

You whined into the hand on your mouth, panting against his clothed form as his hand slipped away and his forehead pressed into the sweaty skin of your neck. The feel of him breathing against you and the smell of his cologne caressed your twitching muscles, leaving you exhausted but so satisfied that you couldn’t help the small smile that pulled on your lips.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you felt Kento’s lips against your neck and shoulder, his own dying breaths making the sweat cool on your skin. He slid out of you slowly, rubbing your arm in comfort as you winced a little from the exit. His hand was in yours before you could say anything, guiding you to the toilet and plopping you down, shooting you an arched eyebrow in silent command as he turned around to clean himself up.

The familiar embers of his aftercare routine roared to life, giving you a little privacy so you could pee and wash your hands before he was hovering and fussing with practiced hands. He disappeared into your closet, coming back with one of his t-shirts and shrugging it on you before manhandling you again to face the mirror. You bit down the urge to laugh, your heart pumping with warmth and satisfaction as he braided your hair and slid on your bonnet. A kiss to each shoulder, firm hands rubbing the muscles of your thighs and back, and a glass of water that he made you drink, staying rooted to his spot and eyes locked on yours until you complied.

Satisfied with his work, he turned you around to face him, softness radiating through the familiar seriousness in his stare and a small smile curling on his lips as he leaned down to press slightly chapped lips to yours. When he pulled away, you opened your mouth to speak, hesitating over a sudden rush of vulnerability before you smiled up at him.

“Thank you, for being you.”

He didn’t respond, content to stroke the skin of your cheek with a thumb before he was pulling you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight against him. His throat was tight as he swallowed, the backs of his eyes stinging and eyelids blinking away tears before they could form as the lilac scent from your body wash and intoxication aroma of the shea butter against your neck drifted up his nose.

Ulani’s cries through the baby monitor on your vanity rung in the air, slicing through the happy moment and pulling a tired giggle from you before he was leaning down again to press another kiss to your lips.

“I’ll get her,” he whispered, stroking the skin of your cheek once more before slipping away.

And almost an hour later, when it was well past midnight as he slumped into bed and pulled you close, his eucalyptus shampoo from slightly damn hair hitting your senses, you found that those tendrils of anxiety and insecurity had died down to an almost undetectable level.

Earlier today you had walked into your house on the verge of tears, nerves frayed with anxiety and body shaking with jealousy, irrational implications and insecurities.

And by the end of the night, he had reassured you in a way that only he could, caressed you and loved you in a way that no man would ever be able to.

As he mumbled a tired goodnight against the skin of your neck and began to snore not even two minutes later, you realized that Kento wasn’t going anywhere without you.

#Nanami kento #Kento nanami #Nanami Kento x reader #Nanami Kento x black reader #Nanami Kento x black fem reader #nanami x you #Nanami Kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #It Had To Be You #mysteria157 #anime x black reader #Nanami Kento fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk x black reader #Nanami Kento smut #jjk au #masterlist #It Had To Be You masterlist

[jhoneybees]

i read your picnic fic and it’s so cute! i was wondering if you could write one where like reader and elvis need to petsit a bird, and it’s funny chaos? i didnt know your requests were open til now 🫠🫠 luv your writing!

Aww thank you so much!! And yes requests are open, I should have added that info onto my bio a long time ago😅 and sorry for the long wait, anyways! This idea is an interesting one and it was a little challenging writing this so I hope you like it!

Causing trouble

Characters: Early70s!dad!Elvis X wife!reader

Warnings/triggers: pretty much nothing but a little bit of inappropriate speech??(misunderstanding about something sexual😅)

Tags:@elvisalltheway101

_____________________________________________

As much as you adore your husband's generosity of gift giving, there are some things that get you concerned. One of them being, buying your daughter things that she doesn't quite understand yet, like taking care of an animal, a bird if you will.

For your little daughter's 5th birthday, Elvis got her a blue budgie bird and knowing your daughter's love for animals, he knew she would be over the moon with the small creature and he was right. Every morning, she would wake up excitedly to run down the stairs into the living room to see her new companion, tweeting at her and pleading either you or Elvis to let the bird out of its cage so she could hold it and pet its little head and in the evenings, refusing to leave the bird for her to take a nightly bath which Elvis always has to gently remind her that the bird wouldn't go anywhere and would wait for her when she comes back. 

Really, your daughter is captivated with the blue budgie and when the school holidays were over and she had to go to school again, she was devastated, sad that the bird would get bored while she's gone.

As she leaves for school in the morning, You and Elvis are left at home alone with the bird. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

As you hum away in the kitchen, arranging a bouquet of flowers to put in a vase, out of the ordinary you hear a noise.

A flapping noise. 

Whipping your head towards the sound, your body stills, your daughter's budgie. Perched on the back of one of the barstools that holds Elvis' jacket, with its tiny head turning and tilting as it studies the room. You curse under your breath, the bird must've escaped the cage. 

So with a hesitant decision, you have to catch the bird and put it back before it causes any trouble- just as you take a step closer, the budgie poops on Elvis' jacket. You groan quietly and take another step but when you reach your hands out to catch the animal, it takes off, flying out into the foyer. Taking a quick glance at Elvis' jacket, you see the turd sliding down the collar, clicking your tongue.

Walking into the foyer and looking around, you sigh at the absence of the budgie, peeking  into the living room and the dining room, you still don't see it. Sighing again, you begin climbing the stairs to check the bedrooms. 

As you reach Elvis' bedroom door being open, you step in but a voice interrupts your search “Lookin’ for some’ honey?” you turn your head and see Elvis walking towards you, getting close enough to wrap his arms around your waist and pecking your cheek as you groan in slight annoyance “The bird got out, I can't find it” your hands lifting and falling in a gesture of frustration. 

“Got out? Where- where did you last see it?” Elvis questions with knitted eyebrows,  as you card your fingers through your hair, you reply “Saw it sitting on one of the barstools, I tried catching it but..flew away” with a quick nod, Elvis hums lowly “Hmm” 

You two being useless and just standing there in the doorway, a few moments later your ears perk up at that familiar flapping noise “I-its in the bathroom!” You exclaim before Elvis follows behind you, quickly making your way into the bathroom suite. There it was, whistling cutely on top of the towel rack. Elvis letting out a slight laugh through his nose, he coos “Aw it likes my towel” rolling your eyes a little “It is cute but Elvis-'' you start whilst looking up at him “It has to go back in the cage” he nods in agreement with an amused smile “Alright, alright” 

Elvis silently and cautiously begins to stalk towards the bird and as his hands ready themselves to grab it, the bird takes off again and flies around the bathroom then through the door, right by your hands trying to grab it. Flying onto your shared bed, upon Elvis' pillow. Breathing out another laugh, Elvis shakes his head as he watches the bird “It's a slick little thing, ain't it?” he snickers with a hand on his hip.

You sigh in realisation that this would be quite a challenge to catch the bird but you were determined to get it back in the cage. Your heads turn to look at each other, nodding in union.

Running, jumping and yelling as you both work together. Elvis pouncing on the chair that sits in the corner of the room then launching himself onto the bed with a huff “Damn- its fast-” and you clumsily bumping into furniture and Elvis as he races around. Failing miserably after one grab and another.

A while later, Jerry and Bill arrive through the front door for Elvis’ request to have a couple of drinks together and as they call out for him “EP! Where are ya man?” staying silent for a few seconds, out of nowhere they hear a low rumbling sound from upstairs, with slight shock they quip an eyebrow at each other “Nothin’ wrong with doing it..but at 11 am?” Jerry questions as he looks down at his watch.

Bill chuckles and as they are about to move into the living room to wait for Elvis, your voices echo down the stairs “You almost-... Almost! YES” your loud relieved sigh being mistaken for something else making Jerry’s eyes widen a little “Woah-” Bill smiling, impressed by Elvis. “Thought we couldn’t get it could we, huh?” Elvis says with a laboured breath.

After some time, You and Elvis, who is holding the bird close to his chest, walk down the stairs and stop at the bottom when you see Jerry and Bill on the couch. The two men spot the bird in Elvis’ hold and in union, it clicks “Oohh!” 

—------------------------------------

At 3:15pm, your daughter comes home from school and Elvis plays with her in the kitchen as you organise her lunch for tomorrow, Elvis spots something white on his jacket. Picking it up to inspect it before glancing at you through his eyelashes, giving you a smirk.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #70s elvis #60s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis fandom #dad!elvis x wife!reader

[linphd]

Taking care of their baby alone | Headcanons

gender neutral

-> It had been around 6 months your baby was born, but it was the first time he had to take care of them alone, you being ready to return to your hero paperwork.

-> (S/N) is son’s name and (D/N) is daughter’s name. Obviously, the students are adults and pros.

-> Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki.

Denki Kaminari

Denki ? Alone with a baby ? Of course he was panicking ! He couldn’t even take care of himself ! « You’re old enough to make and have a baby, you’re old enough to take care of one. » you had told him in response to his whines.

And here he was, sitting (S/N) on his lap while staring at him. « It’s so funny how I love you so much and you didn’t even do anything, right ? » he asked the toddler. He snorted at the lack of emotion in the baby’s eyes, and decided to change to some baby channel on TV.

« Here ! Cool music, right ? See ? » he said, turning the kid so he could face the TV. « Little cats ! Mio, Mao, Mio, Mao, lalalalala ! » he started singing. But his son groaned. « Awwwn, you don’t like it ? But it was your dad/mom’s favorite baby show when they were a little baby just like you ! » he explained.

But then he understood why (S/N) groaned. « Oh. You pooped. » He made a disgusted face, but he changed him anyways. After all, he had trained with Kirishima and Sero to be the fastest diaper changer, so he was kind of an expert at changing diapers.

But after that, (S/N) started crying. « Nooooo ! What do you have ? » Denki whined, hugging his son. But then he got an idea. He would sing him a song from his childhood ! … but he wasn’t really inspired right now, so the only thing that came out was :

« It’s a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake- » and unfortunately, this only made the poor baby cry louder. « Noooo, I’m sorry dadda’s stupid ! » Denki whined again. « I’m a bad dadda ! » he hugged his son closer. « You laugh the most when I’m dumb from my quirk on TV… OH. » He was a genius !

He quickly went to the living room again, looking for an extract where he got dumb on TV. « See ? It’s me ! It’s dadda when he overused his quirk ! » he said, imitating himself with his thumbs up. And just like that, (S/N)’s tears made place to laughters.

Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was nothing but confident about taking care of his baby alone. (S/N) was an exact copy of him, after all. And he knew how to take care of himself ! « Too bad you’re feeling down today, you won’t have a perfect day with daddy. » he said, picking him up.

Indeed, (S/N) had been kinda sick during the night and had thrown up a few times. His forehead was still warm today, so Katsuki was being careful. « I’m gonna bake a cake for mommy/daddy, you better not throw up when I do that ! » he said, babywearing him on his stomach and hips.

Katsuki allowed his son to taste some melted chocolate from the recipe, but that was all. He ended up falling asleep while his father baked, and the blonde thought he was an expert at being a dad… until (S/N) woke up.

Luckily, he was in his crib, because he threw up and started crying. Katsuki went to pick him up and kiss his forehead. « Shhhh » he kept saying. Once (S/N) wasn’t crying anymore -but still with teary eyes- the man took off his clothes to put him in pyjamas instead. « Clean clothes ! All good. »

Still, his son looked very sad. « I hope it’s not the little taste of chocolate I gave you earlier. » he said, laying next to his kid, looking at him. « You’re the cutest little shit, I’m gonna take care of you forever. » he murmured. « Hey. I know something that made me laugh. Maybe it will make you laugh too. »

Katsuki remembered that time Camie made an illusion of Shoto and it had made him laugh hysterically. So, he stood up and said « I wanna see your cute face » looking (S/N) right into his eyes. The toddler laughed so much he rolled on his back on the couch and… threw up again… from laughter this time.

« Ohhhh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry ! » the blonde said, picking up yet again his toddler full of vomit. Luckily, he wasn’t crying this time. « It’s okay, we’re gonna take a bath so you’ll be all clean when mom/dad comes back. » he said, taking his son to the bathroom. Yep. Being a dad was so easy.

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto seemed confident to take care of his daughter without you in the house to arrive in case something happens. So you had left happily. In reality he was absolutely terrified. Sure, he had seen you taking care of (D/N). But it was his only example !

The little girl didn’t seem to mind that you were gone, which was a good start. Shoto only had to change her and play a bit with cubes with her, and then he got bored of it so he decided to bring a little baby illustration book. « See ? A cat. Meow » he started.

(D/N) mostly looked at him rather than the book. She was very young, after all. But one page caught her attention. Shoto pointed to a prince. « Prince. He has a nice costume. » he said, talking as if she understood. But she actually poked the illustration, touching her father’s hand.

« Oh ? You like it ? » Shoto remembered about his Halloween costume you had kept ; a prince outfit. He took his daughter and went upstairs, changing. When he was fully costumed, he heard her squeal and she grabbed her feet. He snorted. « You’re adorable ! » he said, picking her up.

They went back downstairs and Shoto put on some baby songs and cartoons on TV. He didn’t know if she really cared or understood, but she stayed calm the whole afternoon. After giving her food, making funny noises and having to eat some baby food to make her accept to eat everything, Shoto hugged her to sleep.

When you arrived back home, you found them on the couch, (D/N) sleeping in her father’s arms. « I’m back ! Was she nice ? » you asked. Shoto nodded. « She’s really well-behaved for a baby. » he replied, making you giggle.

« And you’re wearing your Halloween costume ? » you asked, a bit confused. « We played dress-up ! » he replied, making you giggle -how could you have not guessed ?! Seeing you happy about how he took care of (D/N), Shoto thought that taking care of a baby alone wasn’t so bad, after all.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #todoroki shoto #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #headcanons #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hello! :)

How would your main 10 skeletons react if their child was chosen for a main role in a play/dance and have been practicing for over a year for the role only to be replaced and not have a role at all?

This actually happened to me when I was taking dance :(

Hope you have a nice day/night!

Undertale Sans - He's sad for his kid, but that happens. It's alright though. If Sans has one weakness, it's clearly not bear to see his family sad. Not only he's going to find you another role, but it will be ten times better than the one you had. He didn't hesitate one second to use Mettaton to have access to some cool opportunities.

Undertale Papyrus - He's so mad they ditched you like this. It's maybe touching him a little more than it should be as well as he used to get ditched from everything as a kid. He still assures you it has nothing to do with your skills and that he's sure you'll find another opportunity soon. Not two days later, he convinces Mettaton to hire you. Being an international star is way better than some role in your school.

Underswap Sans - That's life, kiddo. It's unfair, but it happens often. Blue tries to comfort them the best he can, but he can tell you're disappointed. It's ok though, you can still use what you learn to try somewhere else. He believes in you, he's sure you can find a better opportunity!

Underswap Papyrus - He's so mad at your teacher for just ditching you for no reason. It's unfair, and you clearly wanted to participate a lot. After trying to beg your cause at the school, he's involving some local journalists to make everyone realize how stupid they are to not accept their daughter! He wins in the end and you get your role back.

Underfell Sans - He tells his kid that they didn't deserve them anyway because they're too good for their shitty show. Red is so gonna hack the show to put videos of you training in the middle of the dance performance so everyone sees what they lost. He doesn't care if he gets into trouble. Not his fault you're all jealous.

Underfell Papyrus - He goes full Karen mode and he's storming the dance class to say what he thinks of that bullshit decision. He pays for lessons for his child all year, he even buys them private sessions. Either you pay him back or he's suing you, and oh boy, you don't want him to sue you when he's the best lawyer in the city. Either you give back their child's role or you're going in prison for stealing his money.

Horrortale Sans - He feels guilty. He can tell that's because the kids are scared of him when he's coming to take you home at the end of your classes. You tell him it's not his fault they're racist bitches and that you prefer to leave than support their anti-monster bullshit anyway. He's so proud of you. He's going to help you find another role though. He wants to help.

Horrortale Papyrus - He can tell immediately it's because he's scary and the other parents complained. But that's not going to happen. There's no way you're dropping your dream role for some racist idiots. He's going to tell them what he thinks of this, and of how ashame they should be for showing such an example for the young generation. He casually threatens to sue them for discriminating his child as well because it's what it is: discrimination for being a monster. He's not going to tolerate this. That's ten years since the monsters are out of the Underground, get over it already!

Swapfell Sans - That's fine, he simply pays the class director and tells them nicely that if they keep causing trouble for his child, he's closing their business definitely. The director screams at him for trying to buy privileges. The next day, the building mysteriously explodes during the night. How could that happen? O:

Swapfell Papyrus - That's fine. When you're down, nothing is better than a little revenge. You spend the night throwing dog poop and eggs at every window of the building lol. Rus switches on every faucet of the building too and let them run the entire weekend. Someone is going to have a surprise on Monday. And a water tax so high they're going to faint. That's for the money he lost in their stupid school. He's going to find another role for his kid after that.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Oh, it's fine. He simply goes to see your teacher and gives them the scare of their life by threatening them with his bones and blasters. Either you give their role to their kid or... Well, you don't really want to know what can happen, right? :)

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's disgusted your school would do something so lame after such a long time training. He assures you you're a good dancer though and that they're losing more than you, because you're clearly going to find something better and make them all jealous. When you find a new role, he's sticking posters of your show everywhere on and inside your old school so they all see what they missed.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tell my aunt to stop feeding my cat?

A cat showed up and moved into my house last year, and I have been caring for her since then. And I have been taking this very seriously, I spayed, vaccinated, click trained, brushed daily, we play 3 times every day, and then she eats, I gathered money to buy good cat food (not the best but not the cheapest either) and I even took veterinary lessons to be sure that I was doing the right thing.

And it's worked, you wouldn't believe that she is the same kitten that got here last year, she's fatter and her hair is shiny and soft, not to brag, but she went from daily diarrhea to the most perfect poop ever.

The thing is that my family makes fun of how compromised I am with the cat, they say that I am tooooo serious about it, that I should let my cat go outside, eat trash, eat human food, hunt bugs and rats, or whatever. They say "It's a cat! It has 7 lives! Just let her live them all"!

Then my aunt moved in with us this year because she had a stroke and now the left side of her body is paralyzed, so we are taking care of her. My aunt tried to be friends with my cat, but she was shy and would run away, so I gave my aunt a bottle of cat food and told her to shake and give A BIT to my cat, and, eventually, she would trust her.

Just as I said happened, they became friends and I'm happy about it. My aunt is alone most of the time and my cat's visits make her day.

But today I just discovered that my aunt was giving her food equivalent of two or three meals. And that explains why my cat was acting weird, like… she doesn't want clicker training anymore, she seems indifferent when I feed her, and her bathroom habits change. I was almost calling the vet about this all. My cat is still healthy (for now) but before she was an exemplary cat.

If I said to my aunt that she had to stop feeding her, she would be sad and take it personally or she would ignore it and think that it was not serious just like the rest of my family.

I know that sounds ridiculous, like "Hey my cat's bathroom time changes!", but it's also a money problem, like… I measured her food, and I bought bags that should last some months, they cannot go to waste or I have to get money from nowhere to buy more. Also, can you imagine how expensive would be if she got sick?

But also, I think that is more profound than just to feed or not to feed the cat. My aunt's stroke didn't come from anywhere, my family's genetics are rich in those things (strokes, diabetes, high pressure). I have a handful of relatives who died of strokes and heart attacks. We tend towards obesity and its related diseases and even so, my family believes that food is love. Not even a good homemade Saturday banquet, but really disgusting junk food. They act like the fact that I measure and schedule my cat meals is a crime and an insult to them.

So I don't know, I feel like… if I bring concern about my cat's health, am I saying something about her own health? Am I blaming her for her situation?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[brucewaynehater101]

What music genres do you think the batfam members listen to?I ask this because of how little Alternative music fan headcannons there are. I personally think Tim enjoys grunge and or nu metal(Specifically bands like limp Bizkit, Linkin Park, Korn, and System of a Down)

I'm not too familiar with genres, so I'll be giving this my best shot. I typically listen to music by the vibe it gives. My playlists include music that makes my brain go brr (the nice dissociation), songs for muses, ones to scandalize my mother, music a garage band would play, songs that make God fear me, and a long playlist for pleasant company.

Anyways, I've seen a few fics where people say that Bruce and Tim share a love of those genres. I could definitely see Tim listening to the ones you mentioned. He probably plays it through his preferred headphones as he fixes electronics, codes, or plots destruction. He also, because he suppresses his anger a lot, probably listens to music like Ghostemane, Kim Dracula, and Freddie Dredd.

Jason definitely enjoys musicals. Dick as well, but Jason isn't as vocal about it. Instead, Jason will listen to 80's rock and 2000's girl bands if others around (he ofc listens to TLC).

I like to think that they all enjoy music in different languages. For Dick and Damian, they especially like music they grew up listening to in their respective cultures. The others, because the batfam is multilingual, just enjoy all kinds of different tunes in multiple languages. The batfam playlist, especially for hanging out in the cave, is chaotic. Bruce nearly had an aneurysm the first time he heard Touch You (Yarichin Bitch Club) over the speakers. The only reason the kids didn't get in trouble was because Damian was out with Colin at the time.

I hc that Cass likes lofi hip hop music. She typically enjoys all songs but prefers those without words (because understanding words still requires energy from her and can prevent her from fully relaxing). She does listen to a lot of classical music, a passion she shares with Alfred.

Alfred, the man the myth the legend, enjoys swing music the most. He'll put on a variety of music in the kitchen (different classical eras, opera music, the occasional musical, jazz, some more modern instrumental music, and some movie background tracks), but the whole fam knowns he's in a really good mood if swing music is playing.

Bruce is the type of person to just listen to what's on. Unless he dislikes the music, he will be fine with whatever his kids or Alfred have playing. He particularly enjoys alternative rock and old country music (like Garth Brooks), but he doesn't usually fight for the aux cord.

Barbara has playlists depending on her mood. Birds of Prey mission prep? Bruce being a dick? Dick being a dick? Batfam drama she has to once again intervene in? Coding nights? Can't get out of bed days? She also has a few playlists for each person she regularly interacts with. For calm or bad nights, she'll put the playlist in that person's comm. She also likes to hack speakers around Bruce and play her revenge music when he's being a petty asshole. Some of her revenge music includes "They're Coming to Take Me Away" by Sloppy Jane, "OoOo1" by galen tipton, "All I see is Poop" by Hobo Johnson, "I Swallowed Shampoo" by Soupy Garage Juice, "I am now going to bark at you" by thquib, and "I hope You Die in a Fire" by Grand Commander.

Duke is most definitely a Mitski, Hozier, Crane Wives enjoyer, and you can pry that hc from my cold, dead hands. He probably also likes songs similar to "Ancapistan" by Jreg or "The Fine Print" by The Stupendium.

Dick's music is either super high in energy or sad as fuck. He loves the songs "Has Anbody Seen My Will to Live" by The Tin Knees and "Copacabana (At the Copa)" by Barry Manilow because they are both sad and happy :) I hc that he likes songs by TV Girl, Yot Club, Joji, and Cosmo Sheldrake. He also has a few playlists he follows of Zumba music. The song "The Masochism Tango" by Tom Lehrer is one of his favorites.

This is already a pretty long post, so feel free to reblog with more ideas! I didn't get to Steph or more in depth with Damian :(

#dc comics #duke thomas #dc universe #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #yes i do listen to every song and band I've mentioned regularly and for enjoyment #thank you for the ask!!!! #i will probably add damian and steph later #ignore any bad writings with this one cause I'm currently at work while writing it

[quintessencewrites]

Brain-Break

ShuRiri x Wakandan!fem!reader

“No, my Queen. If you will not indulge my idea for a moment to give you peace, then you will, at the very least, not work in such silence that you stress yourself anymore. Understood?”

Riri stifles a giggle at your words, sending Shuri to return to her work obediently, grumbling under her breath as she did. “-going to speak to me like that in my own lab.”

Warnings: Explicit language, implied smut, fluff

Word count: 2.8k+

Tags: @yvxmpire @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot

Requested by: @laurensmabel1 I love your requests hon, keep em coming <3

Songs featured:

In My Feelings by Drake

Heartbreak Anniversary by GIVEON

Thot Shit by Megan Thee Stallion

Look at Me Now by Chris Brown ft. Lil Wayne and Busta Rhymes

The end of the day and arrival of the weekend put an extra pep in your step. No more crying babies, no more poop-filled diapers. Nothing but you and your girls, at least for the next two days. 

“Princess Y/N has arrived,” the AI booms through the lab as the doors part for you. 

Shuri’s head shot up from her work area. “Y/n? Mholweni, standwa (Hello, my love), but what are you doing here?”

Riri glances up to steal a peek at the large digital clock displayed over your head, above the doors. 

Her soldering iron falls from her grip and clanks against the steel floors. “Shit, Shuri, it’s already 4.”

“Mhm,” you hum as you glide over to pick up the tool for Riri before she hurt herself. Placing it in her hands and a peck upon her cheek, you settle atop the empty desk stationed across from the frazzled girls. “We’ve got a dinner reservation in about an hour, my loves. Did you forget?”

Riri’s head shakes so hard, you wouldn’t be surprised if the small girl had made herself dizzy. “Nah, ma, we’d never forget you. We just got caught up.”

The Queen echos a similar response, “These suit modifications have been kicking our ass and Okoye will be here any minute expecting them to be done.”

Their eyes were overflowing, sadness and exhaustion filling their beautiful, brown orbs. Riri spoke up, “Baby, we’re gonna miss our reservation if we don’t hurry-”

Tears threatened to spill, the frustrations clearly taking a toll on her usually clear mind. “Shh, intombi yam (my girl). Don’t worry about the reservations. What can I do to help?”

“Can you solder the mechanical bond on point C2 to the electrical bond on point D5?” Shuri asks, completely serious.

“... what else can I do to help?”

Your hesitation brought forth a laugh from both girls and with their shared laughter, you notice some of their worries wash away. “Just sit here and look pretty?” the taller girl suggests instead. 

“That I can do.”

Settling back onto your place on the barren desk, Shuri and Riri fall back into their routine, muttering instructions to one another that sound like a foreign language to you. Other than the whirring of their tools and their sometimes whispered voices, the lab space is very quiet. Much too quiet for you, having spent all day babbling with babies who have yet to develop their speaking skills. 

An exasperated scream falls from Riri’s lips, echoing and bouncing off the walls in the mute room. “I don’t know Shuri, baby. This shit is feeling pretty impossible.”

Shuri’s eyes roll at Riri’s dramatics. “Sthandwa, cwaka (My love, hush). You know better than to scream like that in here. Someone could’ve been startled; dropped something and gotten hurt.”

“It’s only us in here.”

“Okay, I could have been startled, dropped something, and gotten hurt.”

Annoyance fills Shuri’s words and you can tell the two geniuses are moments away from snapping at one another.

“Okay, my loves,” you say, jumping from the table, pulling the girls attention away from one another and onto you. 

Two quick steps later, you’re standing next to Shuri, rubbing the small of her back to calm her. “It sounds like its time for a Brain-Break.”

“A what?” she sighs, leaning into your touch. 

“A Brain-Break. It is something I have taught the older children at the daycare. You are too focused on the task at hand; your mind is too clouded. Give your brain a break”

Riri smiles at your attempt to relieve some of their stress and opens her mouth to oblige, but Shuri beats her to speaking. “Thank you, usana, but we don’t have time for a Brain-Break. We barely have time for a pee break.”

Shuri would spend all day cooped up in this lab, giving in to the pressure and have no problem with it. Riri, on the other hand, for sure needed that break. 

Walking over to the smaller girl, you rubbed your digits up her back, slowly and gently. “Griot,” your voice rang out.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Would you shuffle through my playlist, please?”

“Yes, Princess.”

Bass blasts through the speakers, and Shuri looks up at you, bewildered. “Y/n,” she started. 

“No, my Queen. If you will not indulge my idea for a moment to give you peace, then you will, at the very least, not work in such silence that you stress yourself anymore. Understood?”

Riri stifles a giggle at your words, sending Shuri to return to her work obediently, grumbling under her breath as she did. “-going to speak to me like that in my own lab.”

Trap,

Trap Money Benny

This shit got me in my feelings

Gotta be real with it,

Yup

Iron Heart is already swaying to the lyrics, still beneath your touch. A pained smile crosses your face, knowing your girl is going to crack under the pressure if she doesn’t get a Brain-Break.

“Riri, do you love me?” you rap out to the unsuspecting girl, earning a grin that dominates all of her features.

“Are you riding? Say you’ll never, ever leave from beside me, cuz I want ya, and I need ya, and I’m down for you always.”

You extend your hand to the other love of your life, who’s got her head down, trying so hard to ignore your antics. “Shuri, do you love me? Are you riding? Say you’ll never, ever leave from beside me, cuz I want ya, and I need ya, and I’m down for you always.”

Riri releases the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard, but Shuri’s harsh gasp pulls you away from it. “Y/n, where are your kimoyo beads?”

The lyrics continue to wash by, unsaid, as you share Shuri’s gaze. “Huh,” you say dismissively. “I must have left them at the daycare.”

“Left them at- Usana (Baby), why were they off to begin with?”

A shrug from you appalls the girl even further. “The babies like to teeth on them. I take it off and put them in my desk so they can not get to it. I must have forgotten it there.”

The curls hanging from the queen’s scalp bounce as her head sways at your words. “My hard work, hand-crafted, engineering genius-” Now its Riri who rolls her eyes at Shuri’s dramatics. “-reduced to a teething toy for tots?”

Before you have time to respond, Shuri stands upright, rising to her full height, and heads for the exit. “I am going to retrieve them. Riri, usana (baby), keep working. Please?”

She’s gone before either of you answer. Turning towards your girl, excitement oozing from your features, you pull her body in close to yours. “Ready for that Brain-Break?”

Riri relaxes in your hold. “Y/n, I know you just heard Shuri tell me to keep working.”

“Genius yam entle (My beautiful genius),” you saw lowly, with a kiss to her nose. “She is taking a break, and so must you.”

Shuri returns to the lab, your kimoyo bracelet in hand. The music blasting through the space greet her before the doors even open. “Queen Shu-” Griot attempts.

“Quiet, Griot,” Her Majesty speaks out, eyes blessed with the sight before her. 

You and Riri are performing the final lyrics as the song comes to an end. “Cuz I remember every time, on these days that feel like you and me. Heartbreak anniversary, do you ever think of me?” belts out of the two of you, slightly off-key.

Both of you are still unbeknownst to your audience when Griot announces the next song. 

“Shit, baby, this is my song!” Riri has completely abandoned the work before her as Megan’s explicits roar.

Hands on my knees, shaking ass on my thot shit,

Riri takes it upon herself to MC this one, while you’ve taken up the role of dancer. 

Bent over and obeying the words of Megan herself, Riri claps her hand against your backside, smacking your bouncing cheeks to the beat. 

Post me a pic, finna make me a profit

When the liquor hit, then the bitch get toxic,

Why the fuck you in the club with niggas wildin?

The sound of laughter pulls you and Riri from your facade concert. Shuri is still standing at the entrance, chuckling at the sight of her girls. “Riri, I thought you were helping me!” she accuses as she struts over. “Y/n, since when can you get down like that?”

She’s messmorized at the display that was just before her. “What is going on?”

Your shrug mirrors Riri’s. “Brain-Break,” you answer in unison.

“This is a Brain-Break? If I knew there’d be ass thrown, I would have agreed the first time.”

The grin that adorns your face is too bright to be hidden. “So, you’re agreeing now?”

Shuri shakes her head in defeat. “I’m agreeing to one song. Then we really have to finish this work.”

Griot announces the next song, and the queen shrinks into herself. “Not this one. I can not perform this song.”

Her cries are ignored. “I call Wayne,” you shout, knowing Riri was going to try to fight you for it. 

“That’s not fair! I should get Lil Wayne!”

“I already called him, usana (baby).”

“He’s American, I’m American. I want Wayne’s part,” the thrown girl whines. 

“Riri, they’re all American.”

An eyeroll is all you get in response as she turns to Shuri. “Ma, you got Busta’s part? I want Chris if I can’t have Wayne.” A side-eye dedicated to you accompanies her words.

“Bast no, I can not do Busta Rhyme’s part! I don’t have the lung capacity for that!”

A devilish smirk appears on Riri’s gorgeous face. “You had the lung capacity last night when you were between y/n’s-”

The song starting cuts off Riri’s words as a deep blush rises on Shuri’s cheeks. 

I don’t see how you can hate from outside the club. You can’t even get in.

Shuri is still looking for a way to escape her impending doom when Riri reaches for the wrench abandoned on their work station, though it is a wrench no more. It’s now her microphone as the embodiment of Christopher Maurice Brown washes over her. 

Yellow model chick

Yellow bottle sippin’

Yellow Lamborghini

Yellow top missing

She flicks the curls hanging in Shuri’s face.

Yeah, yeah

That shit looks like a toupee

Shuri’s jaw falls, her mouth agape at Riri’s/Chris’s words and the giggle that escapes earns you another side-eye.

I get what you get in ten years, in two days

Ladies Love me, I’m on my Cool J

“Wait,” the Wakandan royal mutters. “Ladies love me, I’m on my Cool J… LL Cool J… Is that what the LL stands for?”

Now it’s your mouth that hangs open. “Shuri, my love, there is no way you are figuring this out just now. Like right now.”

Her gaze at you is bashful and embarrassed. “Shuri,” you cry out, engulfed by the laughter that is shaking your body. 

Before the queen can respond, Riri jumps up, landing hard on the empty table. It wobbles beneath her, though her voice and poise are as steady as ever. 

I ain’t really mean to say on my dick, 

But since we talking about my dick,

All of you haters say hi to it

Her free hand rests on the crotch of her jeans and that’s when you notice it. Shuri’s obviously noticed as well as her disbelief rings in your ears. “Are you wearing your strap?!”

With a ‘mic’ drop, Riri’s demeanor relaxes. “Not important right now, babe. It’s your turn.”

Slowly, Shuri reaches for the disregarded tool and holds it to her lips. Her deep breath echoes as though she held a real microphone. “Okay,” she says to herself, allowing an awkward bob and sway to move her lanky limbs. A whole beat behind, she starts, “Cuz I’m feening and I’m running and I’m feening like ah, got away, get away and away and I won’t stop, cuz you know I got to win everyday, everyday, day.”

The laughter takes over before you can stop it and you meet the ground, unable to stand on your unsteady legs. Riri’s laughter chimes out as well. 

Griot calls out, “No, my Queen, it’s Cuz I’m feeling like I’m running and I’m feeling like I gotta get away, get away, get away. Better know that I don’t and I won’t ever stop, cuz you know I gotta win every day, day, day-”

Your laughter hits you harder, “Even the damn AI knows it.” Tears stream down your cheeks as Riri holds onto the table to steady herself. 

“Shut up, Griot,” Shuri retorts. To you, she says “I told you two I couldn’t do this part.”

Riri stands, walking bent over to a disappointed royal. “I got you baby.”

She grabs the wrench from Shuri’s grip then holds out her hand, “Tag me in, ma.”

“Tag you in? This isn’t wrestling, Ri-”

Riri’s bouncing with giddy now, shaking her outstretched hand in Shuri’s face. “Tag me in!”

It takes another eye roll and shake of her head before Shuri finally taps the excited girl’s hand. “Yes!” Riri hisses, climbing back onto the table. 

And I be banging on my chest

And I bang in the east, and I’m banging in the west

Riri’s performance plays out once again as she thumps upon her sternum, first facing left, then right.

The lab doors open and close again, though none of you notice. Okoye enters, eyes raising at the scene before her. “Gener-” Griot attempts to do what he was programmed to do, but Okoye silences him, wanting to remain undetected for just a while longer. 

Gotta taste it, and I gotta grab it

And I gotta cut all through this traffic

Just to be at the top of the throne

Better know I gotta have it, have it!

Finishing up her encore, Riri reaches down towards you, offering a hand to help you onto the unstable ‘stage’. 

Griot has taken to the ‘Look at me now’s’ stringing off in the background and Riri claps your hand, once, twice, three times. “I’m tagging you in, baby.”

Shuri releases a laugh, amused by the two of you, and in the background, Okoye does the same.

You reach up to release the bun from your head, shaking loose your curls as they hang around your face in the same way Lil Wayne’s locs hang in his. 

Man, fuck these bitch ass niggas,

Shuri cringes at the explicits rolling off your tongue so easily and Okoye raises a brow, having never heard her princess exhale a single cuss word, let alone three in a row.

How yall doing?

I’m Lil Tunechi, I’m a nuisance

I go stupid, I go dumb like the Three Stooges

Riri is still standing on the table with you, your movements combined, swaying the thing. “Get down, standwas (my loves). I am not fixing either of you up tonight if you get hurt. I already have a bunch of work to do,” Shuri begs, calculating in her head whether or not she’ll be able to catch the both of you if you were to fall.

I don’t care what you say, so don’t even speak

My girlfriend a freak like Cirque du Soleil

You change the lyric a bit as your hand snakes around Riri’s waist, pulling her in close, eyes dropping to the strap that you hadn’t forgotten about. She blushes under your gaze.

Shuri catches your line of vision and traces it to Riri’s pants. “Oh yeah, intliziyo encinci (little heart), you gonna tell us why you’re so casually strapped up at-” she turns her head to peek at the clock and catches sight of Okoye, finally stepping out of the background, dragging a slow clap with her.

“Ikaka (Shit),” Shuri whispers.

“Shit,” Riri repeats, dropping your hand from her waist and climbing down from the table. 

“Mm,” Okoye hums before speaking. “A really… delightful show your majesties.” A smirk is hidden behind her stonic appearance.

“Y/n,” she calls out to you as the smile breaks. “I feel as though I should wash your mouth out with soap.”

A sheepish chuckle vibrates from you. “Yeah, you probably should.”

“Small girl,” She’s addressing Riri this time, eyes trailing up and down her body. No doubt, she’d been here long enough to hear your conversation about Riri’s strap. “I’m choosing not to speak about this, to save us both the embarrassment.”

Riri just nods as Shuri attempts to mask her laughter with a cough. Okoye turns towards her queen slowly, smile no longer present. 

“Shuri,” she acknowledges.

“Hm?” the Queen asks, lips tucked thin in a straight line.

“Have you finished the modifications for the Midnight Angel suit?”

Silence follows, everyone quiet, the music having been cut short minutes ago. 

Laughter erupts, filling the space. The beautiful sound is coming from Riri who is laughing so hard, tears spill from her tightly shut lids. Her amusement is contagious, spreading to you next, then to Shuri herself. 

“Shit,” the royal gasps. 

Masterlist

#queen shuri #black panther smut #shuri x reader #shuri x oc #shuriri #letitia wright shuri #princess shuri #riri x shuri #shuri #quintessencewrites #riri x oc #riri williams x reader #riri #riri x reader #blackgirlmagic #blackpanther2 #blackpantherwakandaforever #black panther #dominique thorne riri williams #dominique thorne #letitia wright

[bowandcurtsey]

Idk if you do crackfics but if you don't feel free to ignore this but I'd like to send in a request for headcanons for Fuego, William and nozel and their s/o making them take care of their firstborn baby. Stuff like cleaning their diapers, changing their clothes or making them burp just any baby things and the baby pees on them or throws up on them? Fuego and nozel are royals so they probably have nannies to do these things but s/o wanted the daddies to bond with their baby cuz they're always busy and things

I just love your works so much. Sending Lots of love and positive vibes for you❤️❤️

!DAD BLACK CLOVER BOYS! I love it, hehe (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Thank you for sending them love and positive vibes huehue, I'm happy to find time to write. I was reading the Manga earlier, I just cant wait for this arc to end. I'm feeling so tired from all the fighting. ):

Characters: Fuegoleon | Nozel | William x f! reader tw: unchecked, baby mess (pee poop vomit) s/n: son's name d/n: daughter's name

Fuegoleon Vermillion

He Is hands on whether you had a nanny or not. It was only if he had no choice he would get the nanny to help.

Well your husband was a really busy man afterall, so he had to be away a lot of the time, so he was feeling a little sad about missing out on his first born's growth journey.

Thus, whenever he could, he would be doing everything. Changing clothes for her, picking out the cutest dresses or something that matches your outfit.

He wasn't really good at it, but he would change their diapers too. He didn't mind getting poop stained on his hands, or his shirt stained with pee.

"there's gonna come a day when I wouldn't be able to change her diapers anymore, honey."

You weren't complaining, cause you'll have time to rest and do your own things.

He'll have his blunders here and there, like the time when he played with the d/n too close after meal time and she vomited all over his hair.

He was really apologetic about it but d/n was smiling and laughing from all the fun, you just couldn't help but laugh as well.

As long as Fue was around when she cried, he would get up from whatever he was doing to tend to her. He would cradle her, play with her, read to her until she calmed down.

You were glad for all the help, the only downside was that he didn't ever want to leave her. Even for date nights, he would want to bring her along and sometimes it becomes family nights.

You would have to give him the eye before he would leave d/n with the nanny.

Also, 10/10 over protective dad.

Nozel Silva

He questioned on why it was necessary for him to do the cleaning up in the beginning. Because "we have the nannies for that"

And that you both could just focus on feeding, teaching, playing with s/n.

Well it was your first born and you didn't want to miss out on anything so you still did the changing and cleaning half of the time.

I mean, you still counted your blessings that you had Nann(ies) to assist you, since it was really taxing for your body after birth and you had to recover and take care of yourself AND take care of an infant at the same time. Shit was NOT EASY.

Also, your husband question whether it would really help with bonding since he never remembered his mom or dad for cleaning up after him when he was an infant. Not like anyone could remember anyway.

You kinda felt he made sense.

Until you saw Nozel unable to pacify his son and had the nannies to calm the baby.

"It's that kind of bond, Nozel." you were arguing with him about it one day.

Well, because you got him wrapped around your pinky, he had to do this hands on clean up stuff. And only did he realise that it wasn't that bad afterall.

He knew how his son liked his diapers worn. When he would get a nappy rash, when he would pee or poop.

Well, once he was changing the diaper and s/n peed, and it got all over his shirt. You could tell Nozel was a little annoyed but he continued changing his diaper and cleaning up.

Then he went to change himself. He carried his son in his arms after, looking at him smile and giggle. Nozel pinched his cheeks.

"That bond, right?" you winked at him. And Nozel finally understood.

William Vangeance

He wants to be a hands on dad but he was really really busy. But whenever he could, he would definitely be hands on.

In fact, he holds the baby too much that you'll complain and lament from time to time, that he doesn't spend time with you anymore.

But deep down, you knew that it was because he didn't want to miss the precious times where they grew up so quickly.

But because he spends so little time with his infant child, he does get a little clumsy from time to time.

He would have the diapers the wrong way, and ended up having to shift d/n multiple times, making her more uncomfortable and thus, making her cry even more.

He would be confused on which milk bottle to use and how much to feed. Sometimes, d/n would cry because she was still hungry.

Well, eventually he always used the bigger milk bottle, so you had a pretty chubby baby, haha

He would also get the pyjamas and clothes the wrong side SO OFTEN.

"okay honey, don't they button at the back? But there's one that buttons at the back?"

With all the blunders and questions he's asking you, you hardly get much rest even when he's taking over the baby.

Sometimes you were just too exhausted to correct him and if it wasn't life endangering, you'd just sleep with your baby with her clothes inside out. Or her going out socks. Well, who's looking, right?

It's okay because it's all about the bonding at the end of the day. Whenever you see him smile to your giggling daughter, everything was okay.

#fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fuegoleon imagine #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion hc #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel imagine #nozel x reader #nozel silva hcs #nozel silva x you #black clover headcanons #black clover imagine #black clover x reader #black clover scenarios #black clover fanfiction #black clover imagines #william vangeance fluff #william vangeance x reader #william vangeance hcs #william vangeance headcanons #william vangeance scenarios

[ronearoundblindly]

Sweet requests 💙 I would love some sweet Jake Jensen or Steve Rogers. Reader and then have been fighting, and reader is ready to give up, but their man won’t let them. Please and thank you!

Rerouted, a Jake Jensen x Reader tale

Warnings for some language and innuendo, angst, kinda hurt/comfort due to miscommunication and insecurities. WC 2.7k

Summary: Vacation with your boyfriend is a disaster.

You’ve had smoother starts to vacations, that’s the truth.

Delayed flights. Turbulence. Arriving before check-in with a raging headache.

Jake did his (awkward) damnedest to sweet-talk the desk clerk to let you both into the room early, but his attempts failed and you put those thick headphones right back on and crashed on a lobby chair. You feel his bouncing leg shake the cushions gently as he sits guard over your luggage.

Though your head feels a little better, you need to shower before any real relaxation can happen. You shuffle your feet on the industrial hallway carpet and stare at the back of Jake’s sneakers.

The heavy steel door smacks you hard in the arm when he lets go just at the moment you turn to adjust the rollers of your bag.

“Dammit,” you hiss.

“Shit, babe, are you okay?”

It takes every fiber of your being to simply respond, “yeah.”

You immediately announce your intention to hog the bathroom for a nice long cleanse of your body, mind, and soul.

Jake asks for five minutes first.

Sure. Poop all you want, bud. It’s not like your very first international getaway as a couple has gone swimmingly so far…

You try some stretches to relieve a kink in that weird place below your neck and between your shoulders but not quite over your spine. Worst spot ever. Maybe the shower can heal all travel wounds?

Your boyfriend gives you the all-clear, but you didn’t even hear him close the door or flush. Whatever. He knows it’s your territory now. A forfeit is a forfeit.

A long while later you emerge a modicum improved with a clear head and the memory of not charging your toothbrush overnight. You had to sacrifice a cute beach coverup to make space for the charger. No matter because you’ve got time now.

You change into one of your swimsuits and a light maxi dress, throwing out a comment that some drinks poolside might be a good jumpstart to the trip, but Jake doesn’t move. He’s playing on his laptop.

That joke? The one where ‘you can take the man out of the tech but you can’t take the tech out of the man?’ Yeah, that doesn’t apply to Jake Jensen. It’ll be a cold day in hell when he leaves it all behind, but you check things on your phone all the time, too. Fair is fair.

You unplug what you think is one of the hotel’s complimentary devices—sad blow dryer or shitty coffee maker or something—and set your brush up. 

A quick glance in the mirror gives you a boost. Your skin looks pretty great, all things considered, and you have that new lip gloss to—

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

You jump in alarm, barely able to get to the bathroom door before Jake is right there.

“JESUS FUCK, WHAT DID YOU—fuck.” He rips your charger out of the wall to replace the other black plug. Jake doesn’t even look at you before huffing out “don’t TOUCH that” and racing back to his open laptop on the bed.

“Fuckfuckfuck, come on,” he mutters.

“Are you working?” you screech once it hits you that the device is some sort of signal amplifier. You aren’t tech illiterate, but you aren’t Jake’s level. He knows the golden rule is no work on your together time though.

“It’s important. I have to…there—“ he scrambles to type something out, zoned entirely into his computer.

His computer. Open to work. On your vacation. Which he brought extra equipment for.

Then you see another router on the small desk, and another on his bedside table.

And you’ve suddenly had enough.

“One day, Jay. One day,” you burst. “You couldn’t even give me one damn day of our own vacation.”

That momentary zen you felt flushes right down the toilet with your composure. Tears immediately sting the corners of your eyes. It’s all you can do to snatch sunglasses and a room key from the desk corner and walk out.

“Babe, wait, I just need a—“

The door shuts, fast as ever, loud as fucking thunderclap, and you’re barefoot in the hallway.

You do not fucking care and keep walking toward the pool.

One overly sweet and dangerously delicious cocktail later, Jake still hasn’t come to find you. You sit at the shaded bar with your hand over your eyes to take in the view since these are Jake’s prescription sunglasses you’ve taken. Either option is not great for the last dregs of a headache.

Cocktail number two it is…

Mercifully, clouds roll in. Not the kind that deters guests from the pool or beach. Nothing threatening the splendor of this perfect destination.

You walk to the edge of the pool deck and sip, waiting, alone.

Several times your brain tricks you into turning back, thinking Jake’s come out, thinking he’s groveling behind you. Do you even hope for that? Do you want him to sweep you off your feet? Do you believe him if he comes up with promises upon promises to put the work away, to instead put all that effort into you two?

You have no idea, so you just keep sipping until slurping on air and plunking the empty onto a free lounge chair.

Sputtering and coughing ring to your right.

“Dear god—” Jake wipes his mouth, holding a full coconut husk of your drink of choice “—is that what diabetes tastes like?”

He tries to hand you his peace offering, the peace offering he’s now taken some of and insulted. You turn back to the ocean, and Jake continues to squint harshly, nose scrunched so hard that you can see his teeth.

“Got something in my pocket—“ he smirks “—or maybe I’m just happy to see ya.”

Silence. He can’t hold the gag.

“It’s Tylenol. I grabbed Tylenol for your head.”

When you still don’t cave, he starts twitching, fumbling around with his watch, and clearing his throat.

“I wasn’t—there wasn’t supposed to be a—“ he swivels to look around him and steps closer “—a gig today, but then…boss, um, he—“ Jake waves his free hand out to help illustrate his lack of euphemisms for classified ops “—bungled a…a staging and—fuck it. I give up. He’s an idiot, and I’m a dick, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want them to get hurt if I could help.”

“You always have to help them, Jay. It never stops. I don’t see this working if you can’t step away for one damn day. I’m not this girl,” you fuss, “and I don’t want to date that guy.”

The wind picks up a little, swishing your hair around the makeshift headband of Jake’s sunglasses. You take pity and return them. He doesn’t put them on immediately though, his look guilty, replying in a soft and broken tone.

“Please don’t say stuff like that. I’m trying.”

“I am, too.” You square your shoulders to his and rip the drink out of his hand. “But isn’t trying and trying and not succeeding just failing in slow motion? Because that’s what it feels like to me every time you choose a machine over me.”

“That’s not fair.”

Your glare stops that line cold.

“What I mean is—ok, this is too…” Jake puts on the dark sunglasses. “Imagine my very sincere, partially-blind eyes when I say this is the best I’ve got. You know I don’t know how to be—“

“I swear to god if you say ‘lovah,’ Jake Jensen.” Little shit is always making a joke out of everything.

Since that is exactly what he was about to say, Jake cocks his hip and scratches his goatee. “Fine. Boyfriend. I’ve never gotten this far with someone, but I want it. I want this. I want it with you. I can’t be better until—ya know—try shit to do the best I can and maybe, actually, get better.”

You bitterly sip your sweet treat, saying flatly, “Charming.”

“I only had my job before—“ he pets his big hands down your bare arms “—you know that. It’s hard to switch off. And I am sorry. I did not intend to jump onto a…call the second we got here.“

Poking at the ice in your drink isn’t distracting enough. You’re mad and hurt. This vacation was supposed to cut you off from all that, to give you and Jake time to hang together uninterrupted, and most importantly, to feel like you were enough excitement and company for the guy inoculated from excitement by years of intense shit.

You do not feel like enough now.

“You brought an entire suitcase worth of equipment,” you say flatly.

“Force of habit,” he counters, trying to move his hands to your waist, but you step back. “It’s like a safety net. You pack an extra outfit per day and I come with…an extra router, couple of splitters, a sat phone, and…whatnot. Same sorta difference.”

“I don’t want to be on vacation with a sat phone and a split couple of wires.”

“Right. I understand that. I know it’s not…ideal.”

“And the next four days are going to be?”

“Ooh,” Jake hisses and makes a face, “if Pooch can survive that long without me, it’ll be a miracle.” He scratches the back of his head while you stare him down again.  “What?”

You clutch your drink, bunch up a bit of your skirt, and storm off down the boardwalk to the ocean.

It takes Jake a hot second.

“No. Hey! Come on,” he pleads quietly, hoping not to attract the attention of other guests while he chases you to the beach.

When Jake first approached you at a bar with the worst pickup line you’d ever heard, it was cute, endearing in an ‘I can fix him’ kind of way, but maybe you aren’t strong enough. You can’t just be training wheels while he gets his shit together. You’re not going to be some fucktoy in the corner and wait for him to get sick of you—or yell at you for doing something wrong—because then he’ll only associate you with being some sort of practice, a relationship that was doomed since he’ll want to start fresh with someone else who never fights with him, someone who understands this tech shit, someone who never gets angry, someone who isn’t insecure about—“

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Jake says, finally grabbing your arm to spin you around. “You are not practice.”

Did you…were you muttering all that…out loud? How strong are these drinks??

He jumps in front of your path when you attempt to flee, embarrassment warming you more than the shaded sun.

“No. No, I am not great at this. I’m doing everything wrong, and, babe, I know that.” Jake wildly talks with his hands and walks backward while you slog through loose sand. “I also know that you have put up with every stupid ass stunt I’ve pulled trying to impress you or be the guy I think you deserve. Which I am also convinced is some dude way better than me anyhow. Please don’t. Please don’t say you’re done with me. I can’t ruin this. You’re the best girl I’ve ever b—“

Jake cuts himself off with a wince.

Your head snaps up.

“Oh my god,” you shriek. “Were you just gonna say banged? I’m the best bang, REALLY?”

“Bagged,” he corrects with a sad flick of the wrist, “I was saying bagged, but then I knew it was wrong so I stopped and I’ve made it worse, haven’t I? Seriously if you just give me five minutes, I can look up the most spectacular apology. I can deep fake that cat from the Tiktoks you like reciting Shakespeare if you want just please—”

“Damn it, Jay. Get it through your head. I don’t want your rehearsed version of being a boyfriend, and for one weekend, I didn’t want to share you with your whole team.”

His eyebrows shoot up over the dark lenses. “Kinky,” he whistles. “Wait, no, I’m sor—”

“Go fuck yourself.” You walk away down the resort shore.

He infuriatingly does not follow this time, and instead, you hear his pathetic call “You look nice by the way. I like that dress.”

When that’s all you’ve gotten by a few seconds later, you glance to see Jake, too, walking away. That’s not right; he’s supposed to grovel. He’s supposed to keep following to convince you he loves you.

Sucking your drink down, you dump the ice, umbrella, and straw onto the sand and lob the coconut at Jake’s retreating form. You don’t have great aim.

It bounces straight off his ass and makes him yelp in surprise.

“What the—did you just…”

You puff out your chest, unashamed, as Jake’s mouth gapes open. He slowly stretches to his full height and adjusts his glasses.

“Why you little...“

“Yeah? What are you gonna—eek!”

 He’s after you.

You squeal and bolt down to the water in a zigzag to evade him.

“I’ll get you, minx,” Jake roars into the wind.

You can’t help but laugh as you barely dodge him. It’s easy for a special ops guy to catch a civilian in a long dress trying to run on wet sand, but Jake grins the whole time and lets you have a few extra moves before his arms wrap your waist.

He lifts you off the ground.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he growls playfully in your ear, holding you tight as you thrash a little. 

It’s a fit of giggles for him to wrestle you into a hug, facing him. Jake’s still smiling, breathing heavier but not from any great exertion. He rests his forehead against yours, the wire rim of his sunglasses brushing your eyebrows.

“How’s your head feeling, baby?” His hands stroke your sides tenderly, and you sigh, a few more toxic fumes of anger releasing into the breeze.

“Um,” you assess, squinting, “better than my feet.”

You’ve dug the wrung of a barstool into your arch, stood on hot cement, traipsed across a sharp-shelled beach, and run over the solid, water-logged shore, all barefoot.

“I can help with that.” Jake kisses the tip of your nose and sweeps you up bridal style.

After an involuntary scream of alarm, you clutch at his neck. “That’s not necessary.”

“I know, but that’s the point. How else are you supposed to know how unnecessarily crazy I am about you?” For a complete nerd, your boyfriend is quite built. “And I’m gonna guess you are ‘throwing coconuts’ crazy about me, maybe?”

“God help me, I am.”

“Yeah? Glad you dig losers, babe, because I’m the biggest one you can find.” 

As he makes his way up the wooden steps back to the pool, you grip his flexed bicep. “Yeah, you are…”

He puts you down by the tap to rinse your feet, spraying first yours, then his.

“See,” he whispers, standing and moving you both out of the way for a large family to use the water, “I like ‘em frisky, too, so we’re a perfect match.” He keeps his voice very low. “I can think of at least one thing to do to keep you off those poor feet for a few hours.”

You bite your lip, and even though you can’t see his eyes through the mirror-finish, you know he’s affected by that move. “What’s that?”

He gets bashful and ducks his face off to the side--he’s not very smooth with dirty talk. He knows you love to tease him though. He also…loves being teased.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, your own small ‘I’m sorry.’

Jake pushes up his sunglasses and beams with a snort of approval. “Well, it starts with ordering room service and then unplugging everything…”

A/N: Thank you for waiting since mid-December for this one, but I'm finally pleased with how it turned out. Sadly, I thought of the fight scenario way back when, and just kept blanking on a way to dig them back out of it. I really, really did not want a bunch of promises and excuses and it was important to me that it not be a one-sided issue. Relationships are, in fact, a two-way street after all!!!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @peyton-warren and I don't really know anyone else for a Jake tag, but yeah, let me know...

#ro answers #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen x you #the losers fanfiction #jake jenson x reader #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen fanfiction #hurt/comfort

[deerlottie]

omg please tell me ur thoughts abt big sister lottie 🥹 can’t stop thinking abt her

this was so cute to do :( kind of all over the place but!!!!!!!!!

she's like 5 years older than you and was the most excited child ever to hear that she was gonna get a new sibling ^_^

talking to your mom's belly and saying how she cant wait to meet you :(((( cried for hours after your mom said you couldn't come home right away and demanded she sleep in the nurseries with you 😭

slight angst but thinking of her watching you in the bassinet while ur moms 'busy' downstairs and she's shaking the rattle at you to get u to stop crying :(

OHH!!!!!! lottie being elementary school friends with the rest of the yjs and whenever they'd sleepover she'd LOVE showing her baby sibling off ☹️☹️☹️ nat messing with you and trying to get you to say "poop" or the worst bad word ever... "frick."

timeskip because i cant think of anything else rn

the older you get, the less you see of your parents

by the time ur like 10, lottie's practically your mom now. she doesnt want you to be sad so she always tells you that "mom and dad are just busy building you the coolest house ever!!!! with robot maids and a slide and all you can eat pizza!!!"

making you breakfast for school :3 literally whatever you ask for, she'll make. she learned how to cook just for you. and how to drive. usually the butlers would take you, but you said you hate it and miss when mom would do it, so she learned like a year early so she could drive you :(

big sister lottie picking you up from elementary and ur so intimated by her cool friends that you barely remember. (jackie is the aunt that's ALWAYSSS like "remember me, kid? i made you eat sand that one time." (u were like 4))

oh she'd for sure play roblox, club penguin, msp with you whenever you want...buys you all the robux in the world too like ur avatar is PIMPED out

bullies kids with you and rps in brookhaven

idk jsut thinking of playing guitar hero with her :3

buying u a proper laptop so you can play poptropica without ur knees burning up

teaching u how to play soccer because she's ur big sister and u wanna be just like her :(( threatens coach ben to let you on the team when you get into high school 🤭

going to ur soccer games when you were younger :((((((((((((((((( u were always sad mom and dad werent there but lottie's there cheering you on and taking you out for ice cream after

idkkkk she'd just be the best sister everrrr :( always there for you to listen or talk to and when ur parents try to get back in ur life for some reason, she's there to protect you and yell at them for never being there for you. they weren't even at ur middle school graduation and she had to skip class to take you

she loves u so much she'd genuinely kill someone for you ☹️

#lottie matthews thoughts 💭