bro just take my fucking job application without a cover letter. we're literally gonna be in a mega economic collapse, you're not gonna fucking read it anyways. do you really need some fucking fanfic about me working at your business?? what the fuck are we even doing right now??
CEOs such a deeply unserious concept. Hi I'm the guy whose job it is to decide how much money everyone gets and I just so happened to decide I should get two squilliam dollars and you should get a penny and a half. I know I did a good job because math please don't double check.
“Stop. Stop! If you make me laugh any more I’m gonna pee!” You urge him, your stomach shaking with every laugh he pulls from you.
“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” Simon acquiesces raising both hands up in defence for a moment before they land on the steering wheel again, though the grin on his scarred lips tells you that in actuality, he’s far from being done. “They jus’ keep comin’ to me though, love. Can’ help it.”
“Yeah well, maybe you can start sharing again when they become good suggestions.” You jest back at him, unable to suppress the giggle that comes up when he pulls a face at you.
“Ouch. Jus’ for that, I got another one. Wha’ ‘bout Huey, Dewey and Louie?”
“Ugh! Terrible! Not in a million years.” You reach across to playfully shove at his arm, though you should know by now that you’ll never be quite fast enough to surprise the Lieutenant, when his hand captures your own and brings it to his mouth to press a soft kiss across your knuckles.
“How ‘bout Alvin, Simon and Theodore?”
“And what makes you so sure that it’s going to be three boys, Simon? Hmm?” You ask him, this time pulling his hand towards you and settling it across your stomach, smiling when his thumb automatically beings rubbing against you.
“That’d be because I put three boys in ya, didn’t I?” He smirks back at you, the idea of there being a tiny heartbeat inside of you still being one that seems to take his breath away. The two of you had only found out you were expecting a little over three weeks ago now, when you’d peed on the test in your shared flat and wept tears of joy together afterwards, seeing the two lines you never knew if you would get to see.
It wasn’t until about a half hour ago however, sat at the doctor’s office to confirm how far along you were, that tears sprang to your eyes for a different reason.
Triplets
Fucking triplets
Of course, the first time Simon Riley knocked his wife up he’d go and have three at once, wouldn’t he?
“Nice try, Riley. There is definitely at least one girl in here.” You retort, your mind drifting in a thousand different directions as it has been since the bomb dropped on you. Three babies. How could there be three babies inside of you right now? One was already going to be ambitious, considering how often Simon is absent, not for a lack of love for you, but for his need to answer the call of duty each and every time the phone rings, but for there to now be three? How were you meant to manage three babies by yourself? What if something happened to Simon on one of those missions? What if something happened to you during the pregnancy? What if-
“Love.” Simon’s voice interrupts your spiralling thoughts, his eyes all too knowing when he catches your gaze. “It’ll be alrigh’. Yeah? I’m sure we could think of at least one girl name if we ‘ave to.” He jokes, trying again to continue distracting you from the thoughts he knows are swirling in that head of yours, to keep the worries and fears at bay if only a little while longer.
“Well, good. ‘Cause I have a feeling there might actually be two girls.” You sniffle, pushing down the tears that threaten your waterline, your emotions having been all over the place and justifiably so.
“I mean, I was feeling particular towards Larry, Moe and Curly-”
“At those rate you’re not going to be naming any of our children if these are the ones you’re pulling out of your ass right now.” You smile widely when he genuinely laughs at you there. Putting the car in park he tugs his seatbelt off and leans across the console, holding your face gently with both hands as he comes to land a kiss first on your forehead, then on your nose, before slipping his tongue into your mouth.
“We’re gonna be okay, swee’heart. Promise ya, we’ll figure this out together. Not lettin’ anythin’ happen to the four of ya.” He reassures you, your heart feeling as though it’s beaming with the ever growing gratitude you hold for this man before you.
“That is so crazy. ‘The four of you’.” You whisper to him, slightly shaking your head in disbelief as you quote him. “Do I like- do I count as four people right now? Am I four people?”
“Maybe not yet. But we’ll see how you feel two trimesters from now.” He replies, stepping out and quickly making his way over to your side to open the door for you, reaching a hand out towards you. Knowing you were pregnant was one thing, but now knowing that you’re carrying three of his babies? You won’t be lifting a single finger for the next year if he has any say in it. Luckily and still unbeknownst to you, his retirement papers were filed the same day you showed him the positive test, his mind made up far before your family more than doubled in size.
“Oh my god. I’m going to be the size of a house.”
“Prettiest house I’ve ever seen.” He says without hesitation, helping you out of the car. “Speaking o’ which, don’t think we’re going to be able to fit three cribs in that flat. We’ll have to look at somethin’ new. Maybe build somethin’ from scratch. Did them three little pigs have names or-”
“I knew that’s where you were going with that! Ugh!” You laugh along with him despite it all, leaning into his embrace when his arm wraps around your shoulders. As exciting and terrifying and unknown as everything still is, you can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that there isn’t a single other soul in the universe you would rather raise your three little musketeers with, even if he came locked and loaded with dad jokes galore long before he got you pregnant.
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