Summary: Doctor doesn't understand what love is, but somehow he knows that he loves you. This is him trying to encapsulate that messy, terrifying feeling in the bloody, visceral language that he knows so well. The one he's afraid of letting you hear.
Warnings for description of blood, gore and viscera — the reader isn't harmed and Doctor does not want to harm them, he's just learning a feeling he's not used to.
Read on AO3
You are so beautiful like this.
Not just beautiful either— handsome. Adorable. Ethereal even, though Doctor didn't like the idea of equating your visual appeal to something immaterial and metaphorical. He operated on the physical and the real, something he could hold and touch and observe to an almost obsessive degree. You aren't some fairytale or symbolic presence— you are real, a person that he can interact with in ways that his brain understood.
And yet, despite the physicality allowing him a constant excuse to observe and an object of fascination, Doctor is still so utterly confused by you. Confused by the way you make his heart race as though it would leap out of his chest anytime you so much as smiled at him. When you laughed at his jokes. When you listened to his theories. Entertained his questions. Joined in his dry, oftentimes dark humor even when the others didn't find it all that funny.
Those moments contained such serene joy that Doctor wondered if those feelings bubbling up inside of him are why humans could be so religious or spiritual— as if their bodies couldn't contain devotion so large and frightening towards a being outside of themselves that they had to place it elsewhere entirely.
A theory for another time, perhaps. One you might even allow him to ramble on about if the time was right and the evening late enough, with you unable to sleep against the ambiance of the circus— Doctor can never ignore the delight he feels knowing you trust him in such a vulnerable fashion. To sleep unguarded… it spoke volumes of affection that words couldn't do justice.
It isn't normal, after all, for a rabbit to slumber under a wolf's gaze.
While it's not the first time you had fallen asleep in his main tent while he worked, it's the first time you'd done so in his medical chair (which was amusing in itself). Something that was a source of terror for others, but a place of comfort for you— if Doctor was a reader of things beyond medical textbooks and botanical guides, he might have thought of something poetic about the situation, a certain beauty to be found in the layers of complete irony.
… he'd stopped working sometime ago. Though the pen was still gripped in his hand and the papers of notes and chemical results askew across his desk, all Doctor could do is stare at you sleeping so peacefully on the chair, body curled up with a blanket you had taken with you from elsewhere in the circus. Possibly Pierrot's tent, maybe from your own items that came with you when you moved out of that little apartment. Maybe somewhere else altogether.
It doesn't matter to Doctor precisely where the blanket came from— all the same, it's not his body wrapped around yours. Not his feathers caressing your skin, feeling your heartbeat thump low and rhythmic in the center of your chest. It isn't his hands on your chest, his teeth at your pulse—
Ah. Those feelings again. The ones that made his heart begin to ache. Not… painfully. Just… ache. Like a wound that has healed over but not fully knitted together. Like there was ice in his chest cavity, cold and numbing and sharp and seeping. Of course that wasn't the case; the chance of having any sort of cardiac issue was rather nonexistent, and Doctor knew he didn't literally have ice lodged inside of his ribcage.
That would be rather illogical.
But still, he ached merely watching you sleep and breathe and exist near him. So gentle, so fragile, so… lovely.
"Sometimes I wish I knew how to say these things I feel for you, sweetie," Doctor murmurs, voice filling the quiet space. "I don't have the words you do. You are so very good with your words— I have never wanted to hear someone speak as much as I do with you."
He pauses, listening to the dull, gentle, beautifully rhythmic beating of your heart. A heart he has heard quicken and skip and slow and thensome.
Such a beautiful, lovely thing it is.
For a moment he feels… jealous. Jealous? Yes, he supposes it is jealousy weaving through him, leaving the creature unable to concentrate on his work the longer you lay there vulnerable and unconscious. Jealousy is an… especially strange emotion— it isn't confusing by any stretch of the imagination, but Doctor is left powerless against its powerful weight all the same.
"I can't chase you like Pierrot, charm you like Harlequin," Doctor muses to himself, looking down at the scalpel in his hand and how it slices through the flesh of a specimen he probably won't be able to dissect properly. He's too distracted. So he continues, "I am not as diligent as Ticket Taker nor as confident as Jester— and I don't believe my words or hands could ever be as gentle as hers were."
He sighs, dropping the metal tool with a clatter against the metal tray, the scent of old blood making Doctor feel more agitated than relaxed. He allows himself a moment to change his gloves not for himself, but for you. You, the little human who needs to be treated gently in comparison to them. The human with a sweet smile. The human who is so stubborn. The human who, despite everything they had been through together and individually, seems to care about them all a great deal.
Love and jealousy and hunger and ache— to Doctor they're all the same feelings, muddled and gray-toned inside of his colorblind heart. But he wants so badly to see the shades, the nuances. Some part of him desires nothing more than understanding. But when understanding fails, observation and study often make up for it. Maybe that's why Doctor enjoys his experiments— to try and understand all the parts of the world that make no sense in a way his brain.
He stalks towards your sleeping form, voice low and gentle, but dripping with something he couldn't describe. It tastes almost like blood.
"You know how hard it is to let you walk out of this tent? The restraint I have to enact so that I don't strap you down to this very share you seem to be oh-so-comfortable in?"
You don't answer, obviously unconcious and (given how you snuggle even deeper into the blanket) completely unaware of Doctor's own monologue.
He huffs. How can frustration and affection swirl so perfectly within him at such a sight? How can he make you understand all of these feelings threatening to burst from his chest and bleed down his torso?
"I want to love you, sweetie, but I do not know how. I don't know what love is like— I just know…" he sighs, mask suddenly feeling too tight across his face. It's an annoying sensation that reminds him of when he's molting, all itchy and uncomfortable. "… I want you near me. All the time. I want your smile. Your laughter. I want you to tell me about your day. I want to share space with you, to see you fall asleep on my chair and my bed—"
Doctor has to chuckle, breaking him off from his thoughts. He barely remembered to sleep in his own bed— but maybe with you waiting for him, he'd remember more often.
"It is a shame you are not a monster," he finally says, grief filling every syllable. "I cannot bite you. Cannot… mark you. My kind is… not intimate in the way humans are. Familiar, intimate even? You hold my hand without reason and ask me questions without needing the answer. So confusing of you, sweetie…"
He sighs, reaching a hand up to adjust the mask over his true face, wishing for a moment he could take it off and lean over you like a ravenous phantom just to indulge in the addictive taste of your flesh and blood.
Oh, the taste…
You can't wake up now. You can't open your eyes to see him like this, shamefully feral and on the edge of sanity. You're not supposed to see him like this, the terrifying creature that he is to most humans. You're not supposed to be afraid of him— not you. Never you.
"I want…." Doctor takes in a deep breath. It's amazing how big his hand is compared to yours, the size difference stark and stunning in how he holds the headrest of the chair in a hapless attempt to calm himself.
"I want to hold you. Tight. Tight enough that your body melds with mind. I want our ribs entwined and our hearts to beat together— every drop of blood, every scrap of viscera—
I want to be so entirely part of you and you of me that nobody could identify one from the other. I want to feel your pulse sing for me, I want our organs to dance together and our veins to knit into eachother like a mating veil so that we are always and forever complete, I want—"
He stops, words and noise ceasing entirely the moment you begin to stir. Doctor immediately as back and adjusts himself, even reaching a hand up to his leather mask to make sure it was still on tight and secure— you don't need to wake up to that yet. Maybe one day he'd let you see him. Maybe one day.
"Hmm…. Doct….tor?"
Your eyes flutter open, a soft and small motion that he notices instantly. His blood is still searing inside of him, choking him for a sense of decency he knows that humans feel most comfortable with. He has to force an answer across his tongue and pretend he doesn't want to grab you and secure you onto his table so that you could never ever leave him—
"You fell asleep," he says, the act sublime. "I was… about to clean up for the evening. Didn't mean to disturb you, my sleepy, oblivious little patient."
You're too groggy to pick up the odd wording. Doctor tilts his head after a moment.
"Are you well enough to go home?"
You blink, then let out a yawn. Doctor suddenly understands all of the things that Pierrot goes on about whenever he's being overly sentimental, all the things that he once pondered about. Oh, how suddenly Doctor begins to understand it all.
This wretched, terrifying, beautiful, obsessive feeling they call love.
Because there's nothing in the universe that could compare to the emotions inside of Doctor's body soul and heart when your soft lips part to answer him with such delicious honesty:
"…Could I stay with you tonight? I'm… really tired actually."
It's a good thing you can't hear their heartbeats, because otherwise Doctor wouldn't have been able to hide his utter elation. He wouldn't be able to hide the way his body tenses at the thought of you sleeping next to him— he'd probably end up wearing his uniform, and you'd probably ask him about it, but none of that mattered when he knew he'd spend the quiet hours of the early morning watching you slumber with his hands settled on your waist.
He could count your breathing rate. He could notate all the blemishes on your skin. He could attempt to calculate the rhythm of your pulse and how your body relaxed in unconscious.
"Of course you can, sweetie," he finally says, pretending to be feeling everything he isn't in that very moment. "I enjoy having you around me." I love you. "You are always welcome in my tent." I want you to stay forever.
Doctor doesn't know for sure what love is, but he thinks he's on the right track— perhaps some more experiments are in order.
Post your fics you are most proud of! No limit on how many, just the ones you look at and just feel so pleased that you wrote something so great! Tag as many people as you like to get them to share their own fics! 2k19 is the year we love our own fics babes!
Though I have been a writer in some form or another for as long as I can remember, I didn’t have any sort of online presence until around roughly 2010; in fact, my first ever online account was on deviantArt!
I’ve made a lot of strides in the last decade with my writing, both in the craft itself and my perspective on how it can impact people in all sorts of wonderful ways--so below is a list of the works that have been important, beloved, or otherwise influenced my experience as a writer.
If anyone has ever been curious about my older works or the things that have been imperative to making me the writer I am today, I’d say it’s worth taking a peek--you might find something new of mine to like! ;3c
Truth Within (Star Wars, OC/General Grievous, chaptered fic)
Truth Within was (and still is) one of my most beloved writing projects--somewhat because, fun fact, it’s the first fanfiction I’ve ever written!
Truth Within is a Star Wars fanfiction based in the prequel trilogy, specifically in the Clone Wars era. It features the adventures and coming-of-age of Sakajin Takio, a young woman with a calling to right the wrongs of her mother and become her own person in the process. Along the way she’s challenged to learn the ugly consequences of war, the pain of loss, and the worth of protecting those she cares for--all while trying to handle being the apprentice of General Grievous as a member of the Separatist forces.
Originally posted to fanfiction.net in the late 2000′s and having been overhauled at least twice since, this piece represents how I’ve matured and improved as a writer. Sakajin has grown as a character in much the same way I like to think I’ve grown as a person, so much that she remains my proudest creation to this day.
I love this fic with all of my heart and have a universe worth of things plotted, planned, outline and half-written for it, though hilariously due to the fandom and the very specific ship it contains (Sakajin and Grievous) it doesn’t attract a lot of readers--still, it remains one of the biggest and most influential projects that I hold dear, and I really hope that one day I can make it into something it deserves to be.
Memories of You (Star Wars, General Grievous, chaptered fic)
Another passion project, but much (much) more recent than Truth Within. The story follows the reader as once a lover of General Grievous when they had been left for dead as a servant. After the general dies and they are left alone, the reader is shocked to realize many months later that he’s actually alive--and is in fact the acting general for the Separatist armies. Drama and tension unfold as the two of them try to figure out how to move forward, having to balance the joy of reuniting with a lover and the reality of war and the danger it presents.
What started as a reblogged prompt list spiralled into something absolutely amazing; after writing so many fills, I decided that it would be smart to make a blog to host the specific content and, one thing led to another, and Drabblewatch was born as the very first of many other writing blogs that I would make for reader-insert content.
Started in 2016, Drabblewatch remains one of my most popular writing blogs and series, pushing me almost entirely into the reader-insert community where I have found no shortage of excitement, fun, satisfaction and encouragement. Though I haven’t touched this blog or fandom in quite a while, there’s still a lot of content for it.
...and, fun fact, I actually met my eventual fiance @blood--hunter because of my Drabblewatch writing ;3c
Just Off the Highway / Just Past the Mountains (WTNV, Cecil & Kevin, chaptered fics)
My entrance into the WTNV fandom is, compared to the rest of the fics on this list, a rather recent event. With the nature of the series and the encouragement of the fans of my writing, I have been able to create a lot of absolutely fantastic things--these two fics are perhaps the best examples of what I’ve been able to create thus far. JotH is a introduction fic putting the reader and Cecil together, while JPtM is similar in intent but pairing the reader and Kevin instead.
As the Sun Sets (Critical Role S2, Mollymauk, oneshot)
The reader is a member of the Fletchling and Moondrop Carnival, taken in when they decide that they may earn more coin for their musical skills on the road than at the mercy of those in their home city. They have grown close to many of the members of the carnival, Molly especially, and the reader learns that they may have more talents in magic than in music.
It’s a simple fic, but one that I absolutely adore--namely because I want to create far more content in the future for the Critical Role fandom. I’ve debated making this a multi-chapter fic, but I suppose only time will tell.
And perhaps, maybe one day soon, I’ll even have a Critical Role writing blog... ;3c
Reader-Inserts: A Guide & Background
Omegaverse: Everything You Need to Know
These two entries are interesting, largely because they’re not actually fanfiction or such at all--they’re guides, and ones I’m rather proud of at that.
The first one is a guide for reader-inserts, detailing as much information about what they are, ways to write them and other bits of information from my years of experience in writing for the community. Though it’s by no means the only way to write such a lovely form of fiction, it’s a means for me to try and pass on as much of my own knowledge and experience as possible to normalize reader and self-insert fiction in this internet community of ours!
The second one is more of an informational perspective for a specific AU or trope, commonly revered to as omegaverse or A/B/O. It’s half-headcanon, half-background info, and from what I’ve heard has helped a lot of people understand this one interesting AU or universe setting in the fiction around them.
A Day on The Throne (MCU, Loki, oneshot) [NSFW]
If anyone wanted to know what my very first reader-insert work was, then the mystery has finally been revealed: it was with Loki! My first year of writing reader-inserts were a little clunky and utilized the ‘y/n’ system, but it’s interesting to compare this first work with what I write now, especially in making sure that my works are more accessible to people regardless of gender, sex, background or ethnicity.
I’m certainly not perfect, but it’s nice to see that I’m always getting a little better than before!
Being a Human (Lover) (Daft Punk) [NSFW]
Being apart of the EDM (Daft Punk) fandom I think is actually where the last nail was put into the coffin for me, at least in terms of dedicating a lot of my time to reader-inserts as a speciality.
The community was small and inviting, and a lot of people really encouraged my work and my potential as a writer to do bigger, better things. I actually met a lot of awesome people through the fandom, and to this day I consider @slowpokemegan one of my greatest friends and I am quite blessed to have met her because of this very fanfiction.
Collection of Suki’s Best Smut(tm)
Below is a list of what I consider some of my best smutty writing, though it’s absolutely not exhaustive since apparently out of the 150 fics I’ve posted to AO3, almost 80 of them are explicit and smutty in some form or another--consider these but a taste of what my writing career has created thus far :3c
Touch Me (RWBY, Ozpin)
It’s Best to Keep Me Pleased (RWBY, Torchwick)
Phone Call (FnaF, Phone Guy)
Silvairre’s Little Secret (FFXIV, Silvairre)
Lay Me Down to Sleep (Fallout 4, Maxson)
Heart-On (Undertale, Sans)
Audio Transmission (Lifeline, Taylor)
Touch Me, Have Me, Make Me Yours (The Dragon Prince, Aaravos)
For those of you who would like it, I have a perfect little snippet from the Mollymauk/CarnivalMember!Reader fic that I’m working on where the reader is a half-drow and very magically-adept, and he learns that latter fact only after realizing that said magic is most easily channeled through the music played on his violin.
He is also a trans male if only because there is like -5% of trans male readershots in the world and this trans male writer, who is also thirsty for the local fabulous tiefling, hopes to remedy that somewhat.
And if it aids the imagination any, I’m writing this thing with Voidfish (Plural) on constant repeat
...
You stepped onto the stage with your throat feeling tight. Your stomach in knots, your muscles tensed up. The hand that held the bow was gripping too hard, and the other nearly moved just wrong to hit the violin to your own face.
Stupid, stupid.
Your breathing felt uneven, too fast, but a glance to the crowd carried the fitful sight of familiar faces watching you set up yourself. Gentle red eyes. Calming smiles. Broad-shoulders and elven forms. Careful hand gestures, ones that, while the owners knew nothing about playing a violin, did enough to at least keep you steady on your feet.
Mollymauk had said something minutes before you were introduced, and his words began to swim through your mind evenly, carefully--you let them fill your thoughts and drown out the nerves and anxiety that threatened to swallow you up.
Focus on your craft, your music, the way the melody ripples around you like the rivers behind you. Focus on the water, on the notes, on the way it makes you feel free and happy.
With the words echoing deep within your psyche, your hand brings up the bow to your instrument in a motion that is both slow and measured. Silence falls over the crowd as they watch, breath bated--
Your A/B/O guide is amazing; it's the best reference I've ever seen! If you ever have time, how do you think social structures would be? Would alpha individuals be favored while gammas are disliked...? You don't have to answer this if it's too much!! Btw your writing is amazing and I hope you have a great day ☺️
My personal A/B/O/G guide in case anyone would like to take a gander.
Thank you very much friend! I take a bit of pride in my works with the A/B/O AU, particularly because it combines a lot of what I like most in my fanworks: sexuality, psychology/sociology and a multitude of thought experiments in terms of culture and politics in how such a world may work.
Largely, I think it comes down to two key variables to figure out the rest of the world-building in a sortof trickle-down effect: what is the cause of making someone alpha/omega/beta/gamma, and what is the percentage of each typing in the world?
Depending on the answer to those questions, you can drastically change the outcome and culture of the world. While they’re not completely the same as my personal take, THIS and THIS article on AO3 (by dkwilliams and norabombay respectively) go a bit more in depth with the numerous possibilities (though I seem to be one of few to have this specific take on how I see gammas and betas)
Nevertheless, I ramble greatly. In my personal (rather, neutral) take on the world, I like to keep a lot of the typings as dynamic and with their own unique stereotypes. Since the AUs origins relates and draws heavily to gender role stereotypes, I don’t like to lean heavily on the idea of ‘alphas are big and strong, omegas are lusting and betas/gammas pick up the slack when everyone else is sex-crazed’.
Depending on the fandom and purpose I’m writing for, I’ll dabble in ideas and personal headcanons for how the culture works and how each type is seen to others, but I can’t deny in the slightest that I do also enjoy the AU due to my personal talent and love of writing erotica :3c
I suppose if anyone has specific scenarios, I’m more than happy to elaborate how I think it would work in my take on the AU, but my general/personal take on it is fairly neutral for the most part, and often changes depending on how I want to experiment. Feel free to ask any questions you like though, I love talking about it!
Imagine Sidon's reaction to visiting the Gerudo for the first time! Very hot and dry, how do they live?!
“My dear,” a voice begins, low and exhausted, but not without a sense of genuine, unending curiosity. You’re fairly sure you know exactly what he’s about to ask, but you let him speak without interruption. “…However in the world do people manage to live our here, let alone exist?”
The confusion, almost childlike in ignorance, is mildly amusing. You’d much rather hear him asking questions than complaining about the dry, scorching heat–which meant that the salve was still working. Enchanted with the waters of the Zora’s domain itself, it was paramount in making it safe to cross the Gerudo Desert with your partner, the prince of the Zora’s Domain himself: Prince Sidon.
“Because not everyone is a Zora, Sidon.”
A sigh is the only thing you get in response at first, a soft sound brushing through the otherwise dry air. You’re both only a short while away from the Gerudo’s main town, where word of your arrival has already been received and prepared for extensively as per agreements for a treaty between the two kingdoms.
No amount of help, magical enchantments or otherwise, could quell the endless curiosity that otherwise seemed to pour from the other’s mind. Questions, endless questions, many of which you couldn’t offer much of an answer to beyond what you knew from early years in school.
“Do people have to use enchantment all the time in order to live in this insufferable heat?”
“No,” You laugh, gently tugging the hood of your robe a bit farther over your face, trying to stop the sandy breeze from buffering against your face. “They aren’t Zora, Sidon, so they don’t need things like potions and salves to resist the heat. Just like how Hylians aren’t able to adapt to water like you are.”
Sidon hummed, letting his eyes gaze up from the dunes towards the horizon, where there lie a small but discernible shape of Gerudo Town, just another hour or so of a walk.
“Still, it doesn’t make sense anyone would actually care to live out here,” The prince said, nearly pouting. “I much prefer the freedom and comfort of the water at home.”
“We only stay for a week,” Or less, if things worked out even better. “And then we’ll be on our way–it’s not as if Gerudo town doesn’t have water too, you know. I’m sure that they’ll have something for you to feel comfortable.”
The satisfied sigh was worth it to hear, despite the misery of walking through the desert.
“I look forward to sharing that with you tonight.” You could practically hear the prince smile.
Hey look its some poly!Erasermic headcanons that nobody asked for :3c
If Yamada is the energy in the relationship, then Aizawa is surely the sensibility. He easily balances out most mischief you and Yamada might get yourselves in, if only because he doesn’t want the two of you to get yourselves into any definite trouble--he already has enough to deal with when it comes to his own students.
The majority of the time, Yamada is the more physically affectionate of the two of them, often more than happy to kiss, hug or hold you even if he’s at work. Aizawa is a little more reserved in public displays of affection, but he’s not cold. He often makes little remarks to both you and Yamada, but he means it only in jest. “The two of you act like lovestruck high schoolers.” Plot twist: Aikawa often feels like a lovestruck high schooler when he sees either of you, even if he isn’t the most audible about those feelings.
Due to Aizawa’s more subtle approach to the relationships, there’s a long period of time where his students actually think that you’re having an affair with him--after all, Yamada is far more open about being with you, so what does that make Aizawa? It isn’t until one of them (IIda) brings it to the attention of the principle that, hilariously, he has to explain to the class that he’s in a relationship with both you and Yamada.
It takes like a week for them to get over it. On at least three occasions they asked if you three were going to get married. While you personally enjoyed the student’s positive enthusiasm for their teacher’s loving relationship, it only put Aizawa in a sour mood for a few days, if only because he didn’t like so much attention put on it. God forbid he actually start wearing a wedding band in class, he’d never be able to get a lesson in without the entirety of the student body in class 1-A trying to ask about it and learn more about you.
In terms of being romantic, both of the men are rather equally matched, though they show their romantic nature in different ways. While Yamada is far less ashamed or bothered by social correctness or being embarrassed by going all-out to surprise you with a gift, Aizawa is much fonder about subtle, private moments between the three of you. Secret vacations and quiet dinners are much more his style of things, especially since it means there’s a far less chance that the three of you will impromptu get yanked into taking in a villain they encountered somewhere in the city, knowing their luck.
"Dearest, while I deeply appreciate the attempt, I don't think you're very...suited for this," the words were followed by a sheepish chuckle, but their owner did nothing to otherwise dissuade you from your mission. The size difference was one obvious problem, especially after the prince's first adult growth spurt. It was easiest to sit him down in a pool, with you at the edge, legs apart with him in between as best he could. Not the best position for a massage, but it was the best that you could get, and the Gerudo Desert would sooner freeze over before you'd drop an attempt to help your lover from a tense period of time. "I'm not completely useless at this," you say, gently leaning against him in a moment of quiet intimacy. "I just wanna help you. You've been so stressed lately with taking over for your dad." "True," Sidon admitted that much with little argument. "But that doesn't mean you need to slice your hands up trying to help me relax." You wilted slightly under his words, but nevertheless spent the next several minutes giving it a hearty attempt, until the roughness of his scales began to shred the gloves you wore in an ignorant plan to overcome such a problem. Ah. Wonderful. It did frustrate you though, feeling helpless to help your lover when you knew so well what he was dealing with. He could do the same for you; why wasn't it fair? The Prince could feel the growing aggregation in the air, the frustration behind your words when you finally whispered, "I just want to make you feel good." He paused in thought for some time, lost in thought, before eventually turning around and slowly pulling you against his body. Water lapped at your skin and soaked in your clothes, though nether bothered you enough to pull your attention away from the prince's charming smile. "You are more than I deserve, dearest," he murmured, gently cradling you against his chest. "But if you really want, there might be another thing we can do to make me feel good--something a little more mutual."
At first, there wasn’t a lot that changed about your daily routine. Aside from the offhanded comments about planning or the too-gentle press of his hand over your belly before the two of you fell asleep, being pregnant didn’t bring much change to your life--at first.
The first month or so went by with little difference, but by the third month, the bump of your belly had swelled enough to see that something was different. Though it took the right angle to notice, there was a definite baby-bump forming, gently pushing your shirts and making your pants feel a tad too tight. It was also then that your lover’s behavior too began to change.
No more were the unspoken glances or the silent ponderings--Shouta had since moved into being vocal with them, obviously ready to start planning for the new little hero-to-be forming inside you.
“You should consider staying at home soon,” He may murmur into your ear in the early mornings, when both of you were getting ready to attend your jobs at the school. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt--the term is ending soon anyway.”
It was a suggestion instead of a command, but one where you could make your own final decision. Regardless, he would start to comment on purchasing furniture, clothes, or even how Yamada coos and rambles on about his best friend being a dad. Regardless, there’s nothing but fondness and warmth in Shouta’s voice each time he mentions anything.
The two of you continue to sleep tucked up against one another, his hands protectively pressed to your growing belly, his face nuzzled into the back of your head.
By the time you’ve hit the end of your second trimester, you’re on maternity leave. Though you’ve stopped officially working, it’s still nice to visit your lover for lunch, standing outside the door to the classroom and watching him give the students some level of hell or another--you can see the way he likes them though, the respect he holds in his sleepy eyes even when he’s otherwise dolling out punishments.
He’d be a great dad.
It’s not until you’re round and heavy, sometimes having troubles moving around, that the two of you start discussing the fineries of the child themselves.
“I wonder what sort of quirk they’ll have,” You’d muse, laying back against the man’s chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. “One like mine? Or maybe even one like yours?”
“Who’s to say,” Shouta shrugs, seemingly aloof to the question, though you know it’s been in his head for weeks. He holds you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll love them regardless.”
A giggle moves past your lips as he hums, a lazy noise that seems nonchalant, but has no shortage of nefarious purpose when you tilt your head back and gently press your lips to his.
“You have work early tomorrow,” you murmur against his lips, eyes having barely a moment to glance at the nearby clock.
“What can I say,” the man says lowly, shifting his hands, one to your belly, and the other slowly pulling you up his lap, so he could start slowly, firmly start grinding himself against your ass. “You look so damn hot like this. Round and pregnant. Wanna mark you up.”
He wound up taking a sick day for completely important purposes.
