#still not over the fact that we share a birthday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dandylovesturtles · 3 months

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Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.

———

“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”

Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.

He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.

“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.

“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”

Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.

“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”

“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”

“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”

“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”

Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”

“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”

“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”

“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”

“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”

Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.

“Yes, I will be there.”

“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”

He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.

———

Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.

Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.

For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”

But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.

Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.

When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.

Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.

“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”

Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.

“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”

“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.

“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”

“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”

Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.

He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.

“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”

“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”

“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”

“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”

“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“

“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”

“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”

“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”

“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”

“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”

“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”

The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.

“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.

“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”

“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”

“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”

“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“

“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”

“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”

“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”

Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.

Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.

It didn’t last long.

“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”

“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.

Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”

“Delusion!?”

“Barry!”

“Rat!?”

“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”

“I am simply trying to explain-“

“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”

They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.

“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”

“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”

“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”

“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”

“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”

“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”

Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”

“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.

Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”

“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”

“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”

“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.

“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”

Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.

“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”

“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”

“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”

Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”

“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”

Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”

He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.

Raphael would have made a great general for his army.

———

The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.

Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.

Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.

But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.

“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”

The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.

“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”

Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.

Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.

Eerily matching, very evil grins.

“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”

“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.

Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise Leo #rise Donnie #rise raph #baron draxum #rise Mikey #disaster twins #I didn’t proofread this haha #I love the twins being twins by choice #Donnie and Leo had a big sappy talk sorry it was off screen

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vivalabunbun · 2 months

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As We Are, We Will Be

Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.

Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.

Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.

It was just for a moment.

A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.

Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.

A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.

The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe.

But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined.

Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces.

From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them?

The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out?

“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear.

Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags.

Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different.

Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband.

“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow.

“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest.

“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”

“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.”

“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.”

“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.

You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion.

However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.

They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people.

Leaving you with your unresolved musings.

“Is there anything else we need for the week?”

Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters.

“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket.

“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands.

A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps.

Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique.

Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum.

The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well.

An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve.

That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon.

The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering.

Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old.

The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here.

Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you.

After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted?

That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry.

His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window.

Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.

Your husband does deserve this little nap.

Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his.

Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.

Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body.

Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.

Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams.

It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps.

The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by.

Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research.

Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.

Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit.

Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep.

“You really are like an old man.”

At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions.

“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker.

A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears.

It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored.

Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:

When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this?

Would yours mirror the same?

A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift.

Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth.

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

There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.

At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves.

You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.

What time was it?

Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.

Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky.

A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind.

The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.

Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape.

Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his.

Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?

Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom.

“The laundry,” you mumble.

“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice.

“It’s going to rain.”

“Less than a 30% chance.”

“Haitham…”

Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.

“Alhaitham.”

No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.

“Laundry,” you try again.

A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.

Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today?

His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering.

“Release me, don’t you dare-”

Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness.

“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest.

You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you?

There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.

It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further.

At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.

The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber.

Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency.

A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified.

Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors:

The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100.

Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.

A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon.

A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed.

As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.

When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:

“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”

How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.

Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action.

There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.

Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient.

However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.

He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case.

The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be?

More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.

Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air.

Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.

Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor.

Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.

His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences.

“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice.

“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time.

“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.”

“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you.

“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove.

The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply.

Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?”

He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.

Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist.

But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face.

Bahram (Manager)

It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?

Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.

“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove.

Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.

Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins.

Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement.

“Hm?” You hum expectantly.

“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight.

“And?”

“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.”

“Hmph.”

The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale.

“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side.

He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential.

The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky.

A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow.

A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.

Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream.

If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today.

And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist.

Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for.

Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.

His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep.

If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress.

However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless.

Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more.

Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.

“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess.

Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him.

The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants.

‘Serves him right.’

Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips.

“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold.

Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours.

“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.

You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.

“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.

The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity.

“I can say the same to you.”

The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.

The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.

“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips.

“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”

His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination.

Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.

“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.

Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks.

Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck.

“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.

At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours.

“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.

With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow.

Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket.

The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed.

Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin.

He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens.

He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot.

The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea.

Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull.

His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.

Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within.

A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit.

Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed.

“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within.

“T-there! More there!”

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being.

He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.

Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations.

Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.

The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud.

“Ah! Haitham.”

A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.

Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them.

Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there.

Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself.

With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.

Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm.

The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent.

Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.

Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis.

Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling.

“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady.

‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more.

Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.

Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.

At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.

A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.

Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.

“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.

“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs.

A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.

His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation.

Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length.

Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable.

“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.

Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder.

“You sure do know how to test my patience.”

“Hmm?” You feign innocence.

A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.

Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.

Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten.

Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.

Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin.

A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along.

Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.

Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop.

His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast.

The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?

Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his.

Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied.

He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive.

By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part.

Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls.

The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper.

Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls.

Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.

“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.”

A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.

Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds.

Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much.

His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.

Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.

A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.

Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses.

As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his.

Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs.

Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself.

Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated.

The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun.

Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.

“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.

Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.

“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window.

In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?

In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other

In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd?

What is the likelihood of those odds?

“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face.

You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now.

“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess.

Alhaitham hums in curiosity.

“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?”

He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.

“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face.

“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings.

Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?

Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night.

What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared?

What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber.

However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult?

“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality.

Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles.

“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours.

“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory.

“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”

“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones.

“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.”

“Hm, that sounds probable.”

“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”

You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there.

For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.

The warmth of his hand slips away.

“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left.

Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?

The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape.

“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window.

“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back.

You hum in response.

“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours.

“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks.

Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes.

“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.”

He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow.

“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask.

Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?

The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis.

“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest.

“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them.

Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his.

“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.

“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters.

Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles.

“No, no I won’t,” you promise him.

“Then I won’t,” he promises back.

His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control.

“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.

“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes.

Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.

The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him.

“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.”

A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.

It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods.

“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines.

“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation.

“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?”

“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.

“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects.

“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff.

“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement.

His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.

“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer.

He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours.

“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”

“I say let them.”

Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.

With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his.

The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.

Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies.

So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too.

The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.

Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them.

But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham fanfic #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x female reader #genshin x reader smut #alhaitham x reader smut #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x you smut #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin soulmates au

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evermore-fashion · 3 months

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Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

#Personal #Hello again

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roosterforme · 3 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.

He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."

"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.

"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."

Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."

Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong.

"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.

"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."

"Okay, but-"

"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"

You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now.

Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."

You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head.

"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."

"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.

"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."

"Bradley, I don't want that one either."

He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"

"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."

He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."

You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."

He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.

"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"

"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air.

"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

"I'm pregnant!"

"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"

He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.

Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo."

He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."

You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."

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

You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."

Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."

He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"

"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose.

"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence.

You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."

"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."

"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"

You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"

With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."

And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.

"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"

"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."

"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."

"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.

"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."

"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"

Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."

You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself.

Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."

"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."

Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."

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

Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day.

But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable.

"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."

You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."

"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"

You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.

"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."

Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."

"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."

"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."

You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers.

"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?

He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."

"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."

"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."

You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."

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

"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"

He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."

You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.

As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."

"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."

You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."

He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."

You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs.

"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."

You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession.

"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley.

He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath.

"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"

You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."

Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum.

"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going.

It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.

You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.

He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"

You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch.

"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?"

You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."

He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"

"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.

"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."

"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."

He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back.

"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."

"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck.

You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.

It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."

Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."

You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly.

"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart."

When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked.

He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.

"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."

You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him.

He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"

"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."

"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."

A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.

"You can't stop touching me, can you?"

"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."

"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early.

"What?"

Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face.

"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.

If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up.

"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.

"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."

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

A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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evie-sturns · 1 month

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no one has to know what we do - Chris Sturniolo

summary: ever since you met the triplets in 3rd grade, youve had been closest with chris. you've never admitted it to anyone but you've been madly inlove with him for a few years now. the triplets 20th birthday comes around, they celebrate by inviting the friend group to their house for the weekend, what happens when you and chris are left alone in his bedroom, will things stay the same, or will you two be forced to sneak around.

contains: smut, fwb!chris, sneaking around friends, swearing, fluff.

------------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐-----------———-

♫.. no one has to know what we do, his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room..♫

I've known the triplets since i could walk, marylou and my mom met in highschool so i've grown up around the nick matt and chris my whole life. ive always been closest with chirs,

but i hate to admit the fact that i've been thinking about him differently, a lot differently. i've never though about matt in that way though, even though they're practically the same. it's something about chris's hair, i've always wondered how my fingers would feel laced through his brown locks while he rests between my thighs.

6:39pm, friday night.

i push open the sturniolos front door to find nick, chris, matt, madi, nate, and several other friends from highschool, hannah, grace and yolanda, leaning on the counter, all laughing with eachother.

''hey!!" chris says with a wide grin, running up to me and wrapping his arms around me. "chrisss" i smile back at him.

this weekend is the sturniolos birthday, they've invited madi, me, nathan, and 3 other friends round for friday night, saturday and sunday, for those three nights chris and i are sharing a room, alone.

he grabs my small tote brag i brought and chucks it into the spare room. i walk into the kitchen and greet everyone else, instantly getting dragged by nick into the living room.

"we're watching the grinch." madi declares, "fuck no! its the middle of fucking august" nick yells back, nate chimes in, adding something to the debate.

before i can open my mouth i feel a cold hand grab my arm, its chris.

my head swings around, my hair hitting his neck. "c'mon" chris says, taking me over to the couch and throwing himself down and patting the spot next to him. i flop next to him, cuddling close to his side as everybody else piles down, "so we're watching the grinch?" madi says with a cheeky smile, "no." nick instantly replies, switching the tv on.

the intro song to rapunzel blasts through the small room, a loud cheer comes from the 7 other people around chris and i.

i'm basically frozen, my mouth won't move and i can feel my heart pounding out of my chest. sure, chris and i have been friends forever but god hes been so physical the past few weeks its been hard to hold myself together.

"you okay?" chris whispers down into my hair.

"yeah!" i chirp back

"you seem nervous"

"im not."

im 90% sure he knows.

"im sorry this movie is ASS." nate says, interrupting the movie. "gotta say, i do kinda agree with you." madi replies, "i told you the grinch was better!" she says, earning a boo from nick.

nick leans over to me, "go get a boardgame from chris's room cause these fuck heads aren't happy with rapunzel." he tutts.

i heave myself up off the couch, "chris where do you keep your array of boardgames" i scoff, shaking my head with a smile. "first of all i dont have 50 boardgames i play" he laughs as he walks over to me.

i walk upstairs towards chris's room, him closley behind me still yapping about the fact hes not that big of a fan of board games.

i open the large wooden door to chris's room, the familiar sight filling my vision.

chris shuts the door behind us, i don't question it, he probably just wants to keep his room air conditioned. i look back at him,

"so where are the-" i start but get interrupted by chris's hand on my jaw, he looks at my lips then my eyes, then my lips before slamming his onto mine.

i kiss him back. of course i do? i've practically dreamt about this moment since i was 16.

"i know i make you nervous y/n" he rasps into my lips, his second hand grabbing my cheek as he walks us back, our lips still connected as my back hits the wall, pinning me down slightly with his mouth.

he pulls away for a second, scanning my face for a readable expression. "chris" i breathe out, running my hand through my hair.

"im sorry, im so fucking sorry i shouldnt've done that-" he starts, taking a step back, "chris." i interrupt him, reconnecting our lips.

"you make me nervous, really fucking nervous." i say into his lips, his hand finds its way to the back of my head, his fingers intertwined in my hair.

suddenly the door to his bedroom rattles, i instantly pull away, my head spinning round to look at the door which is being pushed open/

madi, matt, nick and 3 of our other friends walk in, all laughing with each other about god knows what, i scramble towards the closet, looking for any board game i can.

i pull out the despicable me version of 'game of life' which has several minions on the front. a small laugh exits my mouth before i join the small circle which has formed on the floor with our friends.

"y/n...." matt says with a laugh, grabbing the board game off me "despicable me?" hannah says with a scoff

"im sorry! chris doesn't have the collection of board games i expected!" i tease back.

"it'll be okay!" grace says, a somewhat optimistic smile painted across her face.

chris joins the circle of friends on the floor, sitting down opposite me. hes got a small panicked expression, his lips red and raw, his cheeks a deep pink. his eyes are fixed on mine.

"so whos gonna roll first?" nick chuckles.

(8:45pm)

madi won the boardgame about 30 minutes ago, i've been laying on the floor of chris's room with all of our friends, execept for chris.

he disappeared while everyone was celebratings madis 'epic' win.

"we've gotta play truth or dare.." yolanda says, "like the corny middle school shit you know?"

nick claps his hands with a goofy grin, followed by matt rolling his eyes but later agreeing.

"nick, truth or dare" grace laughs,

i stand up off the floor, walking out of chris's room while everyones distracted watching nick try to do a head stand.

the wooden stairs creak as i jog down them, i swing open the back door and im met with chris. he's sitting on the outdoor bench, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

his head shoots up to look at me as i walk over to the bench, sitting under it.

"hey!" he says smiling, then putting his phone down on the armrest.

"how was despicable me game of life?" chris nudges me in the arm, a stupid smile on his pink lips.

"shut up!" i scoff, flicking his arm softly.

a silence fills the air, only sounds of distant cars vaguely humming in the background. chris runs a hand through his brunette hair, his long fingers peeking through the strands of his hair.

"um-" chris clears his throat.

"chris.." i whisper i start, then get off by his voice

"i dont think i'm ready for a relationship."

my heart sinks.

i didnt even say i liked him like that to his face?

"come with me." he declares, standing up abruptly grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

everyone's hanging out in the living room, nobodys really paying attention to rapunzel anymore. nicks head shoots up "y/n come over!!" he smiles at me.

"we're gonna go get ready for bed, super tired." chris speaks for me. i run over to nick, giving him and matt a goodnight hug before returning to chris. he grabs my hand firmly then pulls me upstairs into his room, slamming the door shut behind us

my heart thumps as chris looks down at me, his hand reaches out for my chin, his other hand firmly gripping my waist as his fingertips lightly squeeze my waist. i stare at his lips, he stares at mine before colliding them for the second time today.

without another word his shirt is across the room, his necklace resting on his chest. my shirt follows, ending up somewhere around the room. "chris" i moan lightly into his lips as his hand snakes round to my back, unclasping my bra and letting it fall to the floor.

he frantically rips off his sweatpants, i shimmy my shorts down my legs.

the air surrounding us grows hot as i fall back onto his bed, "chris- we can't, nick always tells me that he'd kill me if i even though about his brothers sexually, i mean-" i ramble, but chris cuts me off.

"no one has to know what we do." he whispers, his hands intertwined in my hair.

my eyes switch from chris, to the amount of our clothes scattered across his room, the same room chris and i grew up in.

i nod "okay." a smile creeps across my face.

chris pulls off my panties, throwing them ontop of his desk. he pauses for a second, his eyes exploring every inch of my body. "oh my god." he mutters, "you okay?" he asks quickly while he pulls down his boxers, his hard length springing out. his dick is strangely perfect, "yeah, more than okay.." i whisper, my eyes fixed on his cock.

he nods "you've done.. this before right?" chris laughs slightly. "yeah- yeah" i giggle. "you're so pretty." he says, stroking his length while his eyes stare at my exposed body.

"ready?" he asks, his tip lightly pressing against my hole.

i'm not even fully processing whats happening right now, the boy i've secretly been practically inlove with for a few years is now about to fuck me.

"very." i tease, gripping the sheets for support. he pushes into me, a low whimper escaping his mouth "squeezing me so well." he stutters, bottoming out in me.

i let out a string of moans as i arch my back off the bed "so good, doing so good." he says, his thrusts rapidly increasing in pace and intensity. his fingers lace into my hair, tugging lightly but not painfully.

i let out a desperate groan "chris- fuck!"

he reaches a hand down and presses on my lower stomach, feeling how deep he is inside of me. "you feel me?" he says in between thrusts.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my vision fogged.

"i said you feel me?" he mumbles, his hair flopping with each time his tip hits my cervix.

"yes! yes-" i blurt out,

chris grabs my throat, pinning me down to the bed.

my eyes open in shock, a few short breaths exiting my mouth.

"finish, finish for me."

and with those words i do, i clench around him and release my built up orgasm. chris instantly lets go of my throat being careful not to push me too hard, he pulls out, painting my stomach with warm streaks of white.

"fuck...." he groans, throwing his head back.

i catch my breath as chris collapses next to me, he pulls me ontop of his body as he strokes my hair.

"you did so well." he whispers into my hair.

after a good 10 minutes of laying in silence i break it,

"um chris.."

"yes?" he replies.

"what are we.. now."

another silence fills the room "i dont know." he says, a bit of guilt in his voice.

he starts "i mean if you give me a few weeks we can put a label on us or we could just stay friends and forget this happened but i dont know if i want that because i really enjoyed this but i mean we could be friends with benefits-"

i interuppt his rambles "friends with benefits!?" i say with a small smile.

"if you want, could be fun like sneaking around.."

i nod frantically at chris's words "i'd like that."

(saturday 5pm)

after yesterday nights unexpected encounter chris and i have kept our promise, this whole day everyones been hanging out at the pool but currently we're in the bathroom, and hes fully inside of me.

"fuck-" he mumbles, slamming into me as i sit on the countertop. my bikini bottoms are pulled to the side as he pounds into me repeatedly, "close." he warns.

i clench around him, the knot in my stomach snapping as i release around his length with a scream of his name. he pulls out, orgasming on my thighs.

"you okay?" he asks, panting as he wipes my thigh with his hand.

i collide our lips together "yeah." i mumble into his mouth.

a few seconds pass before we pull away, he helps me down off the countertop as i catch my balance.

he grabs my hand and unlocks the bathroom door, he guides us both back to the pool, rejoining all our friends like we weren't fucking each other 3 minutes ago.

i lay down by the poolside, my legs shaking slightly from the intensity of the past events.

chris sits down next to me "you got a little something." he whispers with a laugh, quickly reaching down and wiping my thigh where we missed a spot.

(1 month later)

a month ago today chris and i were sneaking around at his 20th birthday party, for the past 4 weeks we've been meeting up at each other's houses, hooking up every time we get the chance. we didnt speak about anything, i think hes happy staying friends with benefits even though i want more, ive needed more for 3 years.

11:32pm

i roll over in bed, checking my phone one last time before i fall asleep. suddenly my phone frantically vibrates,

its chris?

i pick up the phone "chris its late..." i groan into the phone.

"i need to talk to you, can i come over.. please?" he asks innocently, "okay if you want to just talk, im so tired."

i hang up, after a couple minutes i hear the rumble of chriss car in my driveway, followed by his footsteps upstairs. he swings open the door to my room "hey!" he says nervously, jumping into bed beside me. "you alright?" i ask, holding his hand.

he stays silent for a few seconds, before starting.

"i think im in love with you?" he blurts out.

"you- what?" i repeat, confusion painted in my voice.

"i know, but for the past few.. years? ive liked you- alot.. and i dont just want you to be my fuck buddy anymore, i want to be more."

he takes a deep breath, i stay silent in shock.

"i feel the absolute exact same Christopher." i say, looking over at him.

"do you wanna.. make things official." he asks quietly.

i roll over ontop of him, smothering him in kisses "yes!" i laugh, wrapping my arms around him. relief washes over his face.

we lay still for a few minutes, "can i stay the night?" he asks with a laugh, "please do." i reply, my eyes fluttering shut.

we lay in silence for a few minutes, but a small laugh exits his mouth.

"yeah?" i smile into his chest.

"nothing it was just painfully obvious i was head over heels for you, how did you not guess" he laughs

"chris, im sorry but i was terrified to make a move purely because of how it wasnt obvious." i say, planting the 84th kiss of the night on his face.

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

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

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sophsicle · 4 months

Text

reasons criticizing fanfics publicly is lame

lets go over this again shall we?

it is not appropriate to give constructive criticism of fanfiction unless explicitly asked by the author. lots of authors are not interested in improving their writing, they are doing this for the goofs. the laughs. the giggling-good-times. giving people constructive criticism on fanfiction is a bit like if someone gave you a home made birthday card and in front of a room full of people you began to critique it. that social awkwardness? that is what you should feel when you start criticizing fanfiction

"I don't like" is not constructive criticism. it is not critical thinking. if you use the sentence "i don't like" in an academic paper you will fail. what you like is not an objective fact. it is a feeling. which you are allowed to have but which means nothing about the object of your dislike. now, to refer to point one, even if criticism IS constructive, still not appropriate here, but the amount of people who are confusing not liking something with being critical is truly baffling.

i have said this before and i will say it again. just because you have the opportunity to do something, does not mean you are right for doing it. for example, people love to say that if you post things online then you are giving people the right to criticize it. to which i say: no. i am giving you the opportunity. the same way that when i walk out my door i give people on the street the opportunity to shout terrible things at me. that doesn't mean you aren't still an asshole for taking that opportunity. just because you CAN do something doesn't mean you SHOULD do something.

assuming that fanfics should be open to criticism is treating them like published works and is treating fandom like a goods and services economy. we are not consumers consuming products, we are meant to be a community of people with similar interests sharing things. a timeless, but always relevant, metaphor for this, is that fandom is a potluck not a restaurant. you wouldn't go to a potluck and start talking about the food the way you might at a restaurant.

not 2 sound horribly naive or whatever, but maybe just be kind? like, it's not very hard. maybe just don't get on the internet and be an entitled superior asshat. idk man.

#i know this has all been said before #but i couldn't help it #and i can't fit it in a tiktok comment section so #soph rambles

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ma1dita · 8 months

Text

without a doubt

part one can be found here -> it will pass

words: little under 3k

summary: James has a lot of questions, but he quickly finds out Peanut is the answer.

warnings: none! angst–hurts before things get happy, peter (since some of yall might need a warning), all the marauders are alive and happy, lily is too smart for this, peanut and jelly 4 ever

a/n: thank you for all the love (and tears shed) for it will pass! i genuinely rewrote this about four different times and almost lost the plot, but please let me know if it meets your expectations!

(posted 9/11/23)

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 4

I know it will pass, it’s just heavy. You’re all I know.

There’s something about the noise in your brain as you move around your silent apartment. It overpowers the fear that hasn’t quite left your body after he let the front door fall shut. Being paralyzed in the aftermath of the truth that left your lips…It’s maddening. And you can’t even talk to the person you want to hear it most. You love him.

I do love you (Y/N), just in a different way.

Those 10 minutes were a fleeting moment in the life you’ve shared with your best friend thus far. But now, he’s stopped writing, stopped calling, and you’ve never heard him be so quiet in the past few days after the fact. There’s a knock at the door, and the sound interrupts the way you breathe, dishrag in hand, and James’ sweater still on your body.

I know that, James. I just don't know how to stop.

“What a vision you make, (Y/N).” Remus jokes in an attempt to try to make you smile. He’s leaning against the doorframe as you pop your head through the opening and he slowly moves to follow you into your home. Why does it feel like you have to explain yourself this time? But Remus is deeply understanding in nature, and he opens his arms for you to burrow yourself in.

“Get yourself fixed up. Not taking a no for an answer, love. You’ve been MIA for long enough and you know how Pads is about his birthday. He’ll want you there, broken heart be damned.” Remus is rubbing your back, and you groan.

“Ever the fucking diva.”

His chest rumbles with laughter, but both of you know that you say it lightly. Years ago, when Sirius moved into the Potter’s, it was understood that every birthday was to be as great as he was to his found family.

Nothing has to change, Peanut.

Remus sniffs you lightly, nose crinkling, “Place is spotless. Your turn for a deep clean and then off we go.” A horrified noise leaves your throat as you push yourself out of his embrace.

As the steam from the shower slowly suffocates you, you realize that Remus innately knew the reason for your emotional sabbatical from James and the rest of your friends. You wonder if everyone’s known that you’ve been in love with James Potter, and scrunch your face at how oblivious you both have been. The cold water washes away the grief that’s had a handle on your being this past month. Out of all the pranks they’ve played, this tops it. What a sick joke for the both of you to be left out of.

I think you should go now. Please.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 3

All of Sirius’s birthdays are spectacular, but you really can’t fight the hurt crawling up your chest. There are too many memories here at Potter Manor, too many familiar faces asking where you’ve been, and James looks petrified, eyes following your figure around the Manor like you’re a ghost he can’t touch. You walk up the stairs like you have many times over the years, finding a hideaway in the west wing. You and James used to gaze at the stars here.

“So why the hell are you moping on my birthday? No one’s allowed to be sad today.” Sirius grins, breaking the silence as he walks across the balcony to throw his arms over your seated figure.

“Happy Birthday Padfoot.” you smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You clink your glass against his as he takes a seat next to you on the bench.

“Trust me when I say you always look stunning, (Y/N) but there’s this look in your eye that you get when you’re around Prongs nowadays. Might I say it’s why you dropped off the face of the Earth?”

Your face instantly drops at his words, and you’re glad he can’t see much in the dim light.

“How long have you all known, Pads?”

“I don’t know about much when it comes to love, (Y/N). But what I do know is that I’m his brother, and you’re his best friend. There’s a lot of responsibility being those two things for someone like that idiot. You love him like humans need air.”

“I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” The elderflower wine glides down your throat, its taste sweet on your tongue. Sirius sits with you, knowing what’s coming next. As an older brother, he also knows you’ve been waiting for someone to listen.

“What do I do with all the love I have for him? Where does it go now that he doesn’t want it?”

“I’ll take some. It sounds lovely.” Peter’s voice almost echoes in the silence as you both turn your heads to see him and Remus in the dim light of the hallway, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand and it makes you genuinely smile for the first time in days.

“Yeah, pass it around. Godric knows Prongs doesn’t appreciate you enough.” Remus says bluntly, and you hit his stomach when he ruffles your hair.

“Honestly, what a prat! Makes you plan his proposal and doesn’t want you at the afterparty? The nerve.” You choke on the remnants of your wine as you laugh at Sirius’s outrage for you, and all four of you are giggling in the dark like idiots as Remus pours you shots. If anything else goes wrong in this life, you’re glad that you have the Marauders to live it with you.

The laughter reaches the hallway, and in walks Lily, who teasingly asks “Did the party move in here without us?” James is as still as a statue behind her, watching you laugh with his boys. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you happy and acknowledges that he’s to blame.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Lils. There’s always a party when Padfoot’s around,” you remark, and everyone gets up to go back to the party. Lily looks around as if she’s missing something, then looks at James.

“I’m glad that (Y/N)’s back from whatever’s been keeping her busy. Looks like everything’s falling back into place.” she muses, and James can’t help but watch his best friend, no, his best girl, walk away, thinking that everything must be falling apart.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 2

It’s morning now, and a lot of the crowd has gone home or fallen asleep in the many rooms of Potter Manor. You decide to stay to help clean up for Mr. and Mrs. Potter, who were always like second parents to you as well. They had a thing for taking in kids who needed love. With your best efforts, you can’t seem to escape James, who has incessantly trailed behind you into every room you walk into. You dodge him again as you walk down the hall, but James, who has always been a chaser in more ways than one grabs you by the arm and pushes you into his childhood bedroom.

A shriek leaves you as he closes the door and has you up against the wall.

“What the fu—”

“You’re avoiding me. Why are you avoiding me?” his face is panicked as his breath hits your face.

“You told me to leave you alone. That’s what I’m doing now, James. What else could you want from me?” Your hands are on his chest, crinkling the dress shirt that you once helped him pick out at the shops, and you feel breathless, angry at knowing him too well, and angry at what he’s insinuating.

James is at a loss. He loves you. He’s never gone more than a weekend without you and now it’s been ages…. And he loves you. He’s looking at you differently now, in the sunlight that floods through his old bedroom. He loves you so much that it hurts.

His hands slide from the wall behind you, until they reach your shoulders, and trace down your arms. Intertwining your fingers together, James speaks.

“I didn’t mean…” he exhales. “I just…”

“Did you not want me here too? Because unfortunately, my friends are also yours, so maybe we can clarify exactly the terms you want me to follow next time, James.” you seethe, getting in his face.

You push him away, his arms chasing after you, pining for your touch. Your heart is racing with hurt, with anger, with love, all for the man standing across the room.

“Peanut…”

“No.”

“I never want you to leave me alone, okay? It’s been agony without you and I can’t even put into words how—”

“I can, James. How long have I been so oblivious to the fact that I’m in love with you and how long have you just let it happen? You can’t just… please don’t pretend that you don’t know that I’ve been waiting all my life for you to let me fill the empty spaces in your heart.” Your voice wavers as you pull yourself away from him, sitting on his bed.

“Just tell me what’s happening, Peanut. You’ve always had the answers. I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not there and I….. my heart feels like it’s going to combust… I… I just feel…. so intensely. I miss who I am when I’m with you.”

James throws himself down onto the bed, hyperventilating with his head in his hands. Your hands are shaking as you reach for him. You’ll always reach for him.

He raises his head, as you delicately grab his face into your hands. Your fingertips brush his tears away, loving him for the mess he is.

“My life has been so quiet these past few days and I’m so scared to live life without you. Did I fuck it all up for us?” You whisper.

James licks his lips, and he’s playing with your hair in his hands. Your knees are touching on the patterned bedspread. The space between you diminishes as you realize that he’s about to ruin everything.

Your best friend is going to kiss you.

He’s holding your jaw so gently and for a second, you wonder if this is what it would feel like to be loved by him in the way that you do. With every single ounce of control, you turn your head away from what you’ve been craving most. James’ lips land on your cheek, and he’s chasing after you again, muttering apologies as he looks into your eyes and sees everything he’s been wanting. He sees his whole life with you through the split second your eyes connect. Pushing him away again, you stumble away with a sob.

“What was that?”

“I just… “ He’s gasping for air, feeling like his heart has exploded, and the silence is so loud that he feels like his heart must be in pieces, and you’re picking up the wreckage to take home. He’s in love with you. His heart has always been yours.

“You what, James? Don’t do that!”

He’s lived in a mansion his whole life but Godric, is this room suddenly feeling too small? You get on your feet, stepping away from him and he’s following you.

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me hate you, Jelly. Loving you has been painful enough.” Tears are blurring your vision as you hiccup, and maybe it’s better to not see him right now. Maybe you really shouldn’t have come.

“I just wanted to know. I know now, love, I…” James whimpers at the sound of his nickname. Your nickname for him alone has this man wanting to drop to his knees.

“No. Don’t you know how cruel you’re being right now? To me? To the love of your life? I would never do that to Lily!” Your voice is getting louder by the minute, and James is stoic in his silence, steps away from your blaze.

“But you told me you’re in love with me. Are you saying this is because of me?”

“Everything I do is because of you, James. And if you don’t know that by now…” Then maybe you don’t know me at all.

The words go unsaid but the both of you are hit with the reality of it. Your hands jangle the doorknob to get away from him, to be anywhere but here.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 1

Lily listens intently as James tells her everything he's been wanting to say for the last eleven years. She's not surprised, in fact, she knows this is the truth, but she's still heartbroken. Lily Evans and James Potter are both people who like to chase things, people—but after all that’s said and done, the thrill wears off. They’re more alike than they’ll ever know.

He tries to apologize, but Lily cuts him off and tells him there's no need. She's always known the truth, and even though it took him this long, she's glad he finally figured it out. Smartest girl of their year, after all.

“I mean, I always felt like she should’ve been dating you, but then we happened and I fell too hard and didn’t stop to ask questions. I tried to be blind to it, but…it was nice, wasn’t it?” Lily whispers, holding James’ hand for the last time. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“I’ll be okay, Potter. I was before you, and I will be after you. So thank you for being honest. You’ve always been honest with me.” A small kiss on his cheek renders him breathless. Once upon a time, he would stay up all night at the idea of Lily Evans loving him. But his heart has always belonged to you. Without a doubt, James Potter is in love with you, his best friend.

He doesn’t tell Lily he was planning to propose tomorrow, since the situation is already as messy as it is. But Lily Evans always knows.

—

JAMES HAS A PROPOSAL

James is pushing boxes back into Potter Manor, and Mippy helps flit the rest of his belongings up the stairs with magic. The least he could do is give Lily their apartment after their breakup. He looks around, rubbing his fingers of dust as his mother calls him for dinner. How humbling, he thinks, to start all over because he was too stupid to realize he’s in love. Starting over in a place he calls home is absurd. He looks out towards the courtyard where you had your fairytale wedding, walks by the hallways you used to race training broomsticks in, and back to his room where he used to whisper hushed lullabies to help you sleep. Everything reminds him of you, and your love consumes each memory that flickers through his vision. The feeling shocks him like ripping your head out of a pensieve. He’s so utterly in love with you.

What the hell is he doing at his parents’ house? He should be getting his girl! James apparates to your apartment, knocking on the door like a madman. He knocks so loudly the wood is bruising his knuckles, red blooming under his touch.

The door rips open, and he’s never been so glad to see you angry.

“You literally have a key, James. You don’t have to be a dick every—”

“You’re wrong.”

Your frustration gives way, lines on your forehead wrinkling in confusion. It’s like there’s a glass separating the both of you, and you’re scared to touch him.

You shake your head as he continues, “You’re wrong, by the way. I don’t know if Lily’s the love of my life. I haven’t lived it with her, nor will I. What I do know is that I’ve loved you for most of mine.”

“What are you saying, Jelly,” you utter, and James’ is grinning so largely you want to punch his face in.

“I love you. As in I’m in love with you. Without any doubt, or excuses, or anyone holding me back, my heart is yours, if you’ll have me?”

He rushes to catch you, his proposal hitting you hard as you fall into his embrace, hands feeling as much of him as you can. His broad shoulders, his strong neck, the dimples on his cheek, the glasses on his face—all of him is in love with you.

Your blubbering is muffled as he finally pulls his lips to yours, finally feeling, finally… James’ kiss lays out all of what he’s been holding in, and without words you both understand that this wreckage in your beating hearts, the destruction of everything you’ve set together as best friends, is love. He’s clutching you to his body, moving you backward into your apartment, feet moving in sync like an orchestrated dance. You both fall onto your couch in a fit of laughter and tears. Finally.

“How foolish of me to be with another, Peanut. I’m a married man, after all.”

"Not bad for a second kiss, Jelly." You laugh at him.

James looks at your smile like it’s the answer to every question he’ll ask in this life.

—

“We give those we love nicknames, because love requires a word that belongs to us alone.” Fredrik Backman

tagged: @prongs-moon @alltheotherkidss @anehkael @princessprongs

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #mischiefmoons iwp #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader angst #marauders era

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welcometomyoasis · 2 months

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Forever and always | Choi Seungcheol

Synopsis: Despite the fact that death will tear you and Seungcheol apart, you can seek comfort in the fact that you’ll always be each other’s one true love. Forever, and always. Seungcheol x fem! reader | reincarnation au, fluff, comfort | 0.9k words | warnings: mentions of death, petnames (baby and princess), minor nudity (Seungcheol is shirtless) A/n: hbd my angel @brownsugarbaybee <3

“Cheol?”

“Yes princess?”

“Do you think we’ll meet again in our next life?”

“Yes. I have no doubt about it. We’ll always find each other.”

“Forever?”

“Forever. Forever and always.”

₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Shooting up from your position on the bed, you blinked rapidly to try and regain your bearings. Dreams about your past lives were always disorientating. You placed a hand against your chest, trying to soothe the rapid beating of your heart.

“Baby?” Seungcheol called out from beside you, his husky voice still laced with sleep.

He shifted, turning around to face you. When he saw your panicked expression, he was up, rubbing comforting circles around your back to calm you down. Pressing a kiss onto your temple, he asked softly, “Baby? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You whimpered, “I dreamt about the past again.”

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. While you both had been a couple in all of your past lives, you had a harder time than he did when the memories came flooding back to you. He never really had that problem. Afterall, he was always the one who succumbed to the grim reaper first. First it was disease, then it was starvation, a fatal wound, old age, conflict, and then disease again. Most of his memories were full of joyful, loving moments with you. However, in your case, you would bear the burden of having to remember and relive the pain and fear of losing him over and over again.

Seungcheol pulled you closer until you were lying on his bare chest, “Baby? Princess please, calm down. I’m okay. I’m here. Hear that? It’s my heartbeat. I’m alive. I’m with you.”

You snuggled closer to him, adjusting your head so you could hear his heart beating. It was loud and strong. You inhaled sharply, focusing on the rhythmic beats to let them calm you down. Once you felt better, you let out a shaky breath, turning so you were now leaning with your back against his chest.

“Feel better yet baby?”

“Definitely. Thanks Cheol.” You replied shyly, a little ashamed that he always needed to calm you down whenever you woke from a dream about your past lives.

“Do you want to… maybe talk about it?”

You could hear that Seungcheol hesitated when he asked that question. You knew that he hated the burden you needed to carry, that he was practically helpless in this situation. He couldn’t do anything but comfort you and let you talk about it. It was the only way he knew how to ease your burden or at least share that burden with you. Yet, he also didn’t want to pressure you into talking about the awful memories. They were traumatic and he never wanted you to force yourself to talk about it just because he asked.

Fortunately, today’s dream wasn’t that bad. So, you agreed, “Don’t worry about me Cheol. The dreams are always disorientating, but today’s dream was actually pretty sweet.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Yea. In fact, now that I think about it, I really like this dream. We were lying in a cabin, much like this one,” you giggled, gesturing to the space around you. You were both currently in a remote, cozy little cabin that Seungcheol booked for your birthday. He planned a wonderful surprise party, full of your friends and family. Once that was over, he promptly whisked you away, bringing you here so he could have you all to himself for the next 24 hours.

You smiled at that most recent memory as you looked around, your eyes landing on the flickering embers on the fireplace, “I guess we really like cabins. It’s probably our thing.”

At that, Seungcheol let out a laugh. Turning so you were now facing him, you continued, “Yea. We were talking about being with each other. Throughout the many lives that we will get to live. Forever and always.”

You flushed, murmuring lovingly, “I don’t think you remember that conversation, but it’s a beautiful sentiment. Don’t you think Cheol? To be someone’s forever. I don’t know, to me, it’s beautiful and comforting to know that you are my forever.”

When he heard you, Seungcheol only had one thought - that you were beautiful. Under the warm glow of the fire, with your eyes glazed over while you reminisced about the conversation you both had in your past life, you looked ethereal.

Noticing Seungcheol gazing so softly at you, you flushed even further, bringing your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. Seungcheol shook his head. He never could get over how adorable you were. Even now, after being together for so many years (in this life and the last few lives), you were still just as shy as ever. Cooing adoringly at you, Seungcheol slowly brought your hands down. Then, he leaned forward to capture your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

Against your lips, Seungcheol muttered, “Forever and always princess. Forever, and always.”

What you said was true, Seungcheol didn’t remember that conversation. But somehow, he knew it did happen. His heart recognised your words, fluttering happily when you uttered the words, forever and always. What forever really entailed, he would never know. All he knew at that moment, was that you were right. He was your forever, and you were his. Seungcheol loved you, and it warmed his heart to know that you both would love each other for eternity, and perhaps even longer than that.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2

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sleepyangelkami · 3 months

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PAINS AND ACHES e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - ellie returns home from a late patrol to find you crying in the bathroom with your hands wound around your stomach. The red blotch on the bedsheets tells her everything she needs to know. Luckily for you both, she knows just what to do to take good care of her girl.

☆ WARNINGS - fluff! mentions of periods/blood, comfort, crying, mentions of eating? reader being dramatic because what other way would we have it? petnames, use of 'good girl' and other praises, domestic dom!ellie, nakedness (not in a sexual way), use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie stood in front of the stables, putting shimmer away while hopping from foot to foot. "you okay?" jesse questioned, eyeing her weird antics.

she was shuffling partly because it was freezing out and the jacket around her was doing next to nothing to keep her warm and partly due to the fact she was stressed. she was stressed because she knew you were stressed. this patrol with jesse had been late. she hadn't intended for it to be as so but they had got a little caught up on their way back with a couple stalkers. "yeah, just wanna get home." of course, ellie had no intentions on telling you about this run in with the stalkers when she did get home, she knew you worried about her enough as it was.

jesse nodded his head, yawning as he stretched his arms outwards. "you can say that again." as ellie finally clicked the bottom door of the stables shut. "see you tomorrow, tell y/n i say hi." you and jesse were close, he was practically an older brother, ellie knew this.

she pressed her lips into a short smile. "will do." before bidding her goodbyes. her eyes glanced down to the watch sitting on her wrist, you had given it to her for her birthday after countless times of her loosing track of the time. she was really bad when it came to that kind of management. it was now half eleven and pitch black if not for the power generated street lamps down the paths.

sleep was something you adored more than anything, sometimes ellie thought you may actually choose sleep over her. she knew you weren't one to stay up late. if it had been any other night, you would have been conked out asleep by now but ellie knew better. she knew that you needed her with you to fall asleep. she felt her guilt grow thick.

she made an effort to pick up her pace as she made her way down the path, finding herself at your guys' shared home in minutes. she could tell through the window that the living room lamp had been left on. you always left it on even when the girl scolded you countless times for it.

opening the door, the girl allowed the heat to envelope her. the fire was still alight, setting warmth throughout the house. sighing, she placed her jacket up against the rack next to the door, kicking off her boots afterwards.

it felt good to be warm again. she was sighing with her eyes closed, stretching out her neck as her feet carried her to the living room. she assumed you'd be there, either sitting by the fire reading a book or placed on the couch attempting to doze off, or stop yourself from doing so as you felt yourself grow needier for the comfort of your girlfriends embrace. upon realising you weren't in the living room at all, ellie's brows furrowed. "baby?!" she called out from the bottom of the stairs.

there was no panic laced in the girls voice, just mere confusion. she knew you were here, there was no way you'd be anywhere else, especially not without her. it was just unusual for you to be in the room without her, you always said it made you feel weird, it made you miss her impossibly more. she found herself climbing up the stairs, awaiting a response from you.

her head peaked through the bedroom door. "baby? you in here?" but she was met with mere silence. she found her feet shuffling towards the bedside table, switching on the lamp. she could see clearly now, her ears strained. she thought she could hear... crying? her eyes snapped towards the bathroom door that lay inside the bedroom, confusion dawned over her as she placed her ear against the door, knocking softly. "angel? what's wrong?"

you were crying rather loudly, not harshly but enough to cause concern. "els." you practically whimpered out from behind the door. you had been in excruciating pain for hours, awaiting your girlfriends arrival home. after a while, it seemed as though she may never come home at all.

ellies heart broke at the sound of your voice, choked out and small. "i'm coming in, okay?" though she didn't wait for your response, merely pushing the door open, slowly and carefully in case you had been standing close to it. the last thing she wanted to do was hurt you.

the sight she was met with caused her heart to completely shatter. there you sat, in an almost feeble position. you were curled up completely in on yourself, allowing your legs to fold into your chest. your cheeks were tear stained, lips bitten and wobbly. you thought you looked a mess and even though you needed her comfort so bad, you really didn't want her to see you like this. but to ellie? you were nothing short of perfect, the way you always were, the way you'd always be to her.

but that didn't stop her heart from aching. she hated seeing you cry. "oh, honey." she gave a sympathetic look as she sunk down onto the ground herself, opening her arms and letting you crawl into them. she watched as you instantly enveloped her, pressing your head into the crook of her neck. she could feel your hot tears against her skin. "c'mon, angel, tell me what's wrong."

but you only shook your head, pushing your face into her more. she tried gaining a look at you but all attempts were failed as she frowned, wondering what had happened. Her eyes were dancing around the bedroom, spotting a little red splotch on your guys' pink sheets. they were a baby pink, you had enforced this upon seeing them, you instantly fell in love. you loved just about anything pink.

realisation dawned on ellie as she realised what had happened. "awh, baby." she sympathised, hearing your choked whimper as you pulled her impossibly closer. "is it your tummy, hm?" her voice as soft as feathers. you needed her to be soft.

a nod fell against her skin as she watched your hair bounce slightly. "hurts." you cried against her, arms doing everything they could to keep her close. and it did hurt, god did it hurt, you had tried laying in bed in hopes that it would go away but it didn't it seemed as though nothing you could do could make it go away.

you just needed ellie. your ellie.

"my poor girl." she cooed, brushing the strands of hair out of your face. "how about i run you a bath, hm? get you into some soft jammies and into bed then."

and even though it sounded good, you could still barely move your body, every movement sending shocks into your stomach. "ellie." you whined lightly, though the tears had subsided. "don' wanna move." your cracked and broken voice was enough to have ellie shushing you, not wishing for you to begin crying again.

"i know, baby, i know." patting your hair down with her hand. "but it'll help and when we're finished we can get you wrapped up in bed, all nice 'n cozy, yeah?" you huffed against her neck. she moved your face with her hands, matting down your hair against your cheeks as she held your head in front of her own, smiling softly at the sight of you. she'd been on patrol a couple hours, not a second went by that her mind wasn't stuck to you even when she was getting tackled by stalkers. "how's that sound?"

you wore a pout but murmured a soft. "okay." nonetheless."

"okay." ellie grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "that's my good girl."

ellie helped you strip out of your clothes, making sure to be extra soft and careful with you, pressing kisses against your neck and shoulder blade, gently guiding you through the process of getting undressed while the water ran in the bath behind you. she unclapsed your single necklace too, making sure no jewelry was on before lowering you into the bath.

the bath was warm, cozy and you could have fallen asleep if ellie hadn't warned you not to. she told you she was going to pick you out clothes, getting the bed stripped too and that she'd be right back. you'd instantly apologised, stating you hadn't meant to bleed on the bed, the girl laughed. of course you hadn't 'mean't to bleed' she kissed your temple and told you to stop worrying.

that was the best thing about dating a girl, they understood completely seeing as they had periods of their own.

by the time ellie returned to the bathroom, you had almost dozed off. the only thing keeping you awake was the distraction of the bubbles. you played with them, pushing them into your hands and squeezing them between your fingers. ellie was now dressed in a dark grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, holding a pile of clothes for you too.

she offered to wash your hair and who were you to deny the experience? "did you eat anything, sweet girl?" It was the only thing ellie disliked about you. she didn't dislike anything about you, not really. but she knew how you could get, forgetting to take care of yourself when she wasn't around. it made her sick to her stomach. it was also what drove her to work hard on patrols, making sure she came home. she knew that without her, you'd fall. she'd be damned if she let you fall.

your eyes trailed towards her, a guilty look on your face. you didn't need to say anything for she was already giving you a pointed look. "'m sorry, els, i forgot." she knew you forgot, you wouldn't do it on purpose.

"it's okay, baby." washing the suds out from your hair. "just means we're gonna have to go downstairs and get you something in your stomach before bed, 'kay?"

but at that you whined out. "els, you promised!" all you wanted was to be wrapped up in her embrace. in bed.

ellie pressed a kiss to your wet forehead which was now clear of any suds or soap. "i know, princess." standing up from her sitting position on the edge of the porcelain bathtub. "wouldn't have happened if you remembered to take care of yourself." she wasn't trying to punish you, she was merely showing you that your own actions had consequences.

you sat with a pout on your lips, arms outstretched. "i know." you mumbled, feeling slightly guilty. but you weren't hungry. the hot water had soothed your stomach a certain amount, the ache wasn't as strong but it was still prominent. you knew that the minute you stepped out of the water you'd be hunched over in pain again.

unluckily for you, the water would have only gotten cold so the one thing you could do was get up and get dressed. ellie, once again, helped you. she dried you off with one of the white towels, helping you get changed after. you wore a white jammies bottom with little brown teddy bears on it along with a white spaghetti strap, she offered the jumper but you politely declined. you had gotten a little warm after your bath.

somehow, you managed to get from the bathroom to the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs with your head laying on your folded elbows. you were babbling on about something while ellie was toasting you bread. she kept murmuring things like "yeah?" and "really?" or "is that so?" truth was, even you didn't know what you were talking about. But ellie liked to make sure you knew she was listening to you, even if your words were complete and utter jumbles.

"now." turning around with a soft smile. "jam or chocolate?" on your toast, that was.

"mmm." your stomach still hurt but the chocolate seemed so much more appetising right about now. "chocolate please, els."

ellie grinned at your manners. "good choice." she all but cooed at you before taking out the spreadable chocolate. she used a butter knife to spread it across the toast before popping two slices onto a porcelain plate. not before cutting off the crusts, of course.

"thank you." you spoke, beaming up at her. even if you hadn't wanted to eat anything, you were still beyond grateful for the girl going through so much trouble just to make sure you had food in your body.

"my good girl, using her manners." ellie spoke in an almost teasing tone, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek. you grinned, face warming as she walked away.

you attempted at your toast while ellie stood by the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to finish boiling. she had grabbed one of the hot water bottles on the way down. it had a grey fluffy cover with a teddy bear on it, sort of like your pijamas. she filled it up with the hot water, turning to find you ready to sleep on the table. you had eaten almost three quaters of the food but it was all you could stomach.

"thank you for eating something, baby." she murmured against the supple of your skin. "so proud of you." you couldn't fight the smile even when your stomach did feel like it was getting stabbed.

soon after the girl had made you take some painkillers with a glass of water, telling you to drink that too to ease the headache. you listened to her intently, doing everything she asked before ending up back in the bed. this time, with the living room lamp switched off.

the sheets were a cream colour, little blue flowers dotted around them. they were your third favourite. ellie held you close, your back against her chest, legs wrapping around one another. she moved her hands against your stomach, the part where the water bottle wasn't touching. "you okay, honey?" you left out a soft and tired 'mm-hmm' "still hurting?"

"a little bit." you mumbled, almost asleep already. "but you make it stop." ellie's lips turned downward into a smile, trying to contain herself as she pressed a kiss to your shoulder. she was glad. "thank you, els, for everything. you're the best girlfriend ever." the girl merely chuckled against your shoulder.

"i love you." she spoke, voice soft and gentle, calming you.

you were sure you were drifting. you were practically already asleep though your lips mumbled the words. "i love you more."

to which she responded. "i love you most."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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boredmadamoiselle · 4 months

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You're losing me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: When the 2023 season comes to an end, everything falls down. Including your relationship with Charles.

Warnings: Angst. Charles is a little toxic maybe and an asshole. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. Sorry in advance!

Author's note: Let me know what you think. Your feedback is always appreciated and it is really important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share and that you want me to write, feel free to send them and I will take into consideration.

How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life? I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me I'm the best thing at this party

“And Max Verstappen is a F1 world champion for the third time in a row!”, you heard the speakers saying even if everyone already knew that.

All attention was on Max and Red Bull but your thoughts were on someone else. Charles.

While Max was celebrating his victory, Charles had lost not only against Red Bull but also against his own teammate. In the end, Carlos had managed to overtake him in the drivers' standings. The same Carlos who had always been one step in front of him for the entire year, who had broken, albeit for just one race, Red Bull's dominance and had dominated during the weekend at Monza, Ferrari’s home race. It was frustrating because he was Il Predestinato, the one who was destined to win and bring Ferrari to success after all those years. But race after race and despite the support of his fans, it seemed to him that it was no longer the case. He didn't even feel the same anymore. He was losing his confidence and was tired to fight when everything and everyone seemed to be against him: his own team, the strategies, the car, his teammate…

But most of all, Charles was angry. You could barely keep up with him from how fast he was walking. With the helmet still on, he was ignoring everyone, including you and his fans. Something he had never done before.

Despite his nervousness, he waited for you entering inside his driving room before slamming the door violently. You gasped at it.

You remained silent as you watched him change clothes and you thought about what you could tell him to console him. You didn’t even know if it was a good idea talking to him. What could you tell him in a moment like that to make things better? You knew that whatever you would have said wouldn't have been enough. What could you tell him that you haven’t told him yet? Because it wasn't the first time you found yourself in that situation, that things weren't going well...

You thought back over the past few months. It hadn’t been a good year for him and as a result, your relationship had suffered too. The worse the races went, the more, in fact, he was disappointed and threw himself more into work. When he didn't have to race, he was in Maranello at the factory working on the car and getting ready for the next race. Although you had tried to accompany him whenever you could, you had seen him less and less often. You also didn't feel welcome at the factory as you felt like your presence was bothering him. Scared by that, you had stopped going with him. You know it wasn’t true, that it was only your mind playing tricks on you. Was it?He loved you... you weren’t a burden or a distraction to him – you had repeated to yourself for months. He just needed to focus on his job if he wanted to win. Knowing how much it was important to him, you had put yourself aside and never said anything about it or how you felt. Not even when he didn’t come home for your anniversary because he had to work or when he forgot your birthday. You had remained silent even then, forgiving and justifying him, even though every disappointment and forgetfulness were like a stab in your heart, making you feel less and less important. In the end, it wasn't even worth it.

Although you were sad for Charles, a part of you was happy that the season had finally come to an end and that the winter break was about to start. It was your chance to spend some time together away from everything and everyone. Everything would have gone back to normal, to how it was before. You and Charles would have been fine again. At least it was what you thought… How wrong you were.

As Charles was putting his t-shirt on, you hugged him from behind and rested your chin on his shoulder. Or at least, you tried. He moved your arms off of you and walked away leaving you paralyzed in the middle of the room. You heard him grumble.

You felt rejected by the man you loved and who told you he loved you. Because in that moment it didn’t seem like that.

It wasn’t the first time that you felt rejected. The truth was that you hadn’t felt loved by him for months.

You wanted to cry but you couldn’t. You had cried enough for him. You had lost count of the nights you spent crying before falling asleep.

“Charles…”, you managed to whisper than to say.

He turned to look at you.

“What… what happens?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “What happens? Weren't you out there? Didn't you see what happened? I lost everything! Here what happened!”, he screamed. “I lost the championship, again! I’m not even vice-champion this time and my own teammate beat me. I’ve been driving a tract for the entire year. Isn’t all this enough for you?”

As you listened to him, you realized how everything was always about him. He was still talking about the damn season he had, the championship, the car, his teammate… when you didn’t give a fuck about them, not anymore. You cared about you. You and Charles. But it didn't seem to be the same for your boyfriend.

He was still complaining about the season when you stopped him. You had enough. “No, I meant why you moved earlier.”

He turned around looking at you in confusion as if he didn’t understand what you were saying.

“What… what are you talking about? When?”

You couldn’t believe it. Was he making fun of you? How could he be so oblivious about everything, about you? Weren't you the woman he said he loved?

“Now when I hugged you and you immediately moved away from me as if you couldn’t stand my touch. Why that?”

Charles sighed and you could see how annoyed he was from your affirmation. Too bad for him that you were tired too and you couldn’t stand that situation anymore. It was time for both of you to clarify it.

“It was nothing. I didn’t even realize it”, he said turning and giving you his back.

“You see, Charles, this is the problem. You wouldn’t have realized it if I hadn't pointed it out for you. You never realize anything”, you said.

“What would that mean? I already said that it was nothing. You're overreacting, Y/N!”

As your patience had reached its limit, you ended bursting out.

“It was something, Charles! It meant for me. But apparently you simply don’t care enough about me and also about us if you don’t realize how much you’re hurting me, or I should say how I much you had hurt me in the last months”, you yelled at him while your eyes started filling with tears.

Your words caught him off guard and put him in difficulty. He turned around to face you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn't do it on purpose. I just have a lot of things on my mind right now. This year sucked…”

You didn’t give him the time to finish.

“Stop, Charles! I’ve had enough. Yeah, this season, the car, the team, everything sucked. I know that very well and do you know why? Because I’ve been by your side the whole time supporting and consoling you when everyone and everything seemed to be against you. And despite all this, you managed to make me feel like I wasn’t welcome. The least you could do is not push me away.” With every word you raised your voice more and more, not caring who could hear you from outside.

“I never asked you to do all those things.”

You looked at him in disbelief. You quickly wiped away a tear that was falling down your cheek. He didn't deserve to see you crying. He didn't deserve you tears anymore.

You wondered yourself who was the person in front of you because that wasn’t the same Charles you knew and loved. There was a completely stranger in front of you as you didn't recognize him anymore.

“Yes, you didn’t but I did it anyway and I don’t regret it, Charles. I'd do it all again because I love you. But…”

The thought had been tormenting you for months. You had kept pushing it away, trying not to listen to it but it came back stronger every time. You didn't want to believe it was true because it would mean the end of you and Charles. But maybe your relationship had been over a long time ago and you were just postponing the inevitable.

“But it looks like my love isn’t enough anymore or maybe… maybe you don’t love me anymore, I don’t know. But I know for sure that in the last year you’ve loved your job, the championship and everything else more than me and don't try to deny it because you proved it several times, Charles. And I’m sorry but I'm tired of trying to make this relationship work when it seems I’m the only one who cares about it. I can’t keep fighting for both of us”, you said as you started collecting your things around the room, even the pieces of your broken heart. You wanted to leave that place and everything behind you as soon as possible. You were about to burst into tears.

“Wait. What are you doing?”, he asked as he realized what you were about to do.

“Leaving”, you simply said avoiding looking him in the face. You were afraid of the effect it might have on you.

“What do you mean? The room or… me?”

Good question. You didn't know it either.

“I… don’t know. Maybe both, but for now the room for sure. I need some fresh air and... some time.”

You collected your last things.

You had reached the door when his words stopped you.

“So is it like this? Just because I've been absent recently or because I didn't win, you break up with me? You know I was working all the time, right?”

You turned around to face him. All the sadness from earlier had been replaced by anger. You approached him reducing the distance between you. How could he think so low of you?

“Don’t you dare, Charles! I don't care if you're the champion of the world or not. I've always loved and wanted you despite that. And yes, I know you have been working all this time. You know why? Because that's all you've done this year: work, work and again work. If we've reached this point, it's… Do you know what? Nevermind. It’s just a waste of time and I've already wasted it enough. And so did you. I assume you have some work to do or am I wrong?”

Maybe you had exaggerated with your words but you didn't care at all. You were hurt and angry.

Charles said nothing as you stood looking at each other.

You weren't sure what you were hoping for. But anything would have been better than that deafening silence that was slowly killing you inside. It felt like the world was ending. For sure something was certainly over between you and Charles. But was it the end for you and him? Or there was still hope?

Your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave when you turned to Charles. You wanted to see him one last time, to remember the Charles you loved but all you saw was a stranger.

“You know what, Charles? You were right in the end. You’ve lost everything, including me, us. Good work, Charles.”

And with those last words you left the room and Charles.

You exited the garage and walked quickly across the paddock hoping no one would have stopped or seen you.

As you were keeping your head down, you didn't see that Joris was coming in the opposite direction and you collided with him.

"Oh, Joris... I'm sorry, I didn't see you...", you told him.

"Hey, Y/n. Is it everything ok? Where are you going?"

You were avoiding his gaze. If you would have looked at him in the eyes, you wouldn't have been able to hold back the tears anymore. "Away, Joris. I need to go", you whispered as your eyes started to fill with tears again.

"Wait, where? What happened?"

You quickly looked at him before hugging him.

"Nothing, don't worry. Take care of him for me, Joris."

You quickly kissed his cheek and left him there confused as he watched you walking away.

Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore For you 'Cause you're losin' me

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