#weird cravings

Logan hadn’t been feeling well, the last few weeks he would wake with strong nausea keeping him in the bathroom until the others were awake. Virgil had been worried and Janus was checking in on him more than ever, Patton was growing extra protective and territorial of him. It wasn’t until his stomach started to grow that he connected the dots, morning sickness. He was pregnant.

They didn’t think it was possible for sides to become pregnant so he and Patton hadn’t been careful, the others hadn’t either but Logan was the only side that was originally formed in a way that humans would call AFAB. He was scared but he couldn’t find himself being mad about it, there was a new life growing inside him and as much as this was an unknown it was also a new learning experience. And he wasn’t alone, Patton was a great partner and had always wanted to be a father, both Virgil and Janus would look out for him…the twins would try their best of course. His family was going to help him handle this.

“Why can’t I stop eating? Nothing is satisfying and I’m not even hungry anymore!” Logan cries out, the jar of peanut butter he had opened only has a single small scoop out of it before being left on the table. He leaves the kitchen, waddling to where Remus was sitting in the living room watching a grim-dark d&d podcast, “This is not at all rational!” He complains, sitting next to the dark twin and trying to distract himself with the campaign. Remus makes an agreeing grunt, having a craving for something you can’t place is a pain he’s had to deal with too. Patton and Janus had both been trying to cook or bake everything they could think of with no results, Logan was still miserable.

Speaking of, Logan reached mindlessly into the bowl Remus was holding and popped a ball of the dough into his mouth before he could be stopped. Remus was already summoning Pat when Logan ceased chewing, “Shit shit, I di-“ “Remus, what is this?” The look that he pins Remus with has the creativity hiding behind daddy-dearest, “Cl-clay?” The answer seems to be sufficient enough because Logan swallows, “Can you make me more?”

This is a cute little one shot that I uploaded to AO3 ages ago. It only just occurred to me that I never posted it here, so here ya go, I hope you all enjoy  a little bit of soft domestic Rog!

Word count: 2k +

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You wake up to a red-hot pain searing through your leg, the muscle spasming and cramping against the soft mattress you had been sleeping comfortably on just moments ago. “Fuck!” You screech, sitting bolt upright against your pillows, suddenly wide awake, tears springing to your eyes. The body sleeping beside you stirs as you jostle them in your sudden movement, though they remain asleep. You breathe deeply as you reach your arm out to massage your calf, though it’s difficult to bend that way when you’re seven months pregnant. “Roger… Jesus Christ Roger, wake up!” You hiss, smacking his shoulder none to lightly in order to wake him.

“Huh? Y/N, what’s wrong? Is it the baby? I’m not ready! We haven’t packed anything yet!” Roger all but cries, as he too sits up in a flash, surely giving himself whiplash as he does so. He looks around in the dark, fumbling his hand over the nightstand until he connects with the lamp, switching it on and allowing for a warm glow to chase away the midnight shadows of the room.

You want to laugh at his panic, want to reassure him that you still have time before the baby arrives, though you stop short when another spasm shoots through your leg. “Rog, it’s a cramp not the baby. I just can’t reach to massage it out!” You whine, throwing your head back and frowning, as your toes are stretched into an en pointe position. Sweat beads form on your brow as you breathe more deeply, if anyone were to walk in on you now, they would likely think you had in fact gone into an early labour! “Just, ugh! Please help!” You whimper, as you feel him moving next to you. This wasn’t the first time this had occurred, in fact this was the second time this week! It seemed the further along in your pregnancy you got, the worse the cramps became. The one earlier this week had been utter torture, it had been a cramp in your thigh, something you had never experienced before, and it left you stiff for days afterwards. At least this time it was just another calf cramp, those you could deal with,

Roger slides off his side of the bed, shoving his glasses over his nose. He was adamant that he didn’t need glasses to see, though you knew better, and created the rule that when he was home with just you, he was required to wear his glasses, in an effort to at least somewhat preserve his eyesight. “Alright I’ve got this.” He mumbles to himself, as he kneels down beside the bed, wrapping his warm hands around your straining leg. “Drink some water, I read that it will help with the cramps.” He suggests, as he rubs his thumbs against the muscle. It had taken him a few tries to know exactly what would help you in these situations, though after the fourth cramp, he knew where to apply pressure, and how much pressure was beneficial to you.

Diligently, Roger sits by your side for around ten minutes, massaging your leg, then helping to stretch out your foot once the initial cramping had ceased. It felt wonderful to be able to bend your knee again, a luxury you would never take for granted again. With the sweat now gone, your tears now dried, and your leg now once more mobile, you look at Roger, offering him a weak smile.

“Thank you Rog. I- I don’t know what I would do without you.” You murmur, as you move to swing your legs off the side of the bed, your feet resting against his knees as he continues to kneel on the floor beside the bed.

He grins his cheeky face up at you, blonde hair a mess from sleep, though it only added to his overall appeal. “Hey now Y/N, it’s what I’m here for. Besides, if you’ve got to grow this baby, the least I can do is massage your leg!” He chuckles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your ankle, causing your toes to curl in appreciation.

You reach a hand down to him, and his fingers hook between yours as he pulls himself into a standing position. “Are you worried?” You ask with a gentle smile. He frowns at your question, unsure as to what you were referring to. “About the baby I mean. You uh, seemed a little panicked when I woke you up before. I mean, we still have time to get everything ready, but about not having packed anything. At the end of the day, if the baby decides it’s ready to be born, I don’t think our number one priority should be bringing the perfect outfit.” You smirk, as you rub a small circle into the back of his hand.

He looks down at his feet, shuffling them against the carpet, before meeting your eyes once more. “I think I’m more excited than nervous.” He finally says, squeezing your hand once. “It’s just that, I want everything to be perfect when she arrives. I suppose I keep thinking that when the time does come, I’ll forget something. Probably something important knowing me, like the car keys.” You roll your eyes at that, wanting to shake some sense into the silly man.

“Rog, we won’t forget anything, I promise. If it makes you feel any better, we can pack some essentials in the morning, just in case?” You suggest, and you grin as his face lights up eagerly, all signs of worry and stress leaving his soft features. “Now come here.” You command, patting the empty bed space beside you. “We have roughly two months until this little one is born, and we still haven’t decided on a name yet!”

Roger launches himself onto the bed, flying over you and landing heavily on his side, the entire bed moving as he lands. You frown as you wobble unsteadily, the baby kicking your stomach in annoyance at her dad. “Alright, names, this I can do!” He promises, as he leans his head against his hand, propping his elbow up on his pillow and facing you. You slowly move down onto your side, mimicking his position and grinning at him.

“Well then, let’s hear what your suggestions are then. And no, before you ask, we are not naming her Rogerina.” You can see he’s about protest your decision, though you raise a challenging eyebrow, and you watch as the fight quickly leaves him.

“Fine, how about Galileo? I never did find out who Galileo was…” He trails off, and you smack his bicep, at a complete loss for words at his stupidity, surely Brian had told him exactly who Galileo was?

“Galileo Galilei, was for starters a man, and is one of the most famous astronomers to have ever lived! Honestly Roger, did you pay any attention is school?” You groan deeply, pressing your palm over your eyes.

Roger looks at you seriously for a few moments, your explanation did sound oddly familiar, and he found himself remembering Brian all but yelling at him in the recording studio after having asked who Galileo was, he felt he had a right to know who he was considering he had been singing his name non-stop for the past hour! “Alright fine then, so you don’t like Rogerina, and you don’t like Galileo, I’m running out of names here Y/N!”

“How about we compromise hm? If we ever get a dog, then we can call him Galileo or her Rogerina, how does that sound?” He’s going to drive you insane at this rate, the temptation to just leave and live out the rest of your life in Antarctica was becoming more and more appealing by the second.

“Sold!” He cheers, as he leans over and presses a soft kiss against your lips, pulling away before either of you can take it any further. You pull your hand away from your face, eyes falling on his as you both just lay on the bed together, neither talking, just enjoying the comfort of being close to one another. “On a serious note, how about Lillian? Or Charlotte?” He smiles, reaching out and resting a hand against your rounded stomach, rubbing your bump through your cotton shirt, which was at least three sizes too big for you, but was ever so comfortable to sleep in.

“Where did those names come from?” You tilt your head slightly to look down at his calloused hand against you stomach, placing your free hand over his.

He looks up at you, shrugging his shoulders in response. “Honestly I’m not sure. I think there might have been a Charlotte at the studio we last recorded in, and Lillian, well I know you love lilies, so it seemed fitting.” There’s a blush creeping up his neck, and slowly spreading over his cheeks as he explains his name suggestions, and you can’t help but smile, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. Sometimes you forget just how romantic Roger can truly be. He always puts on such a tough exterior, but every now and then he does something so extraordinarily sweet and thoughtful, that you almost forget that he’s the same person.

“Both names are beautiful Rog, maybe she could be Lillian Suzanne Taylor? My Nana was named Suzanne, and I wouldn’t mind incorporating a name from my family.” You bite your lip as you wait for him to mull over your daughter’s future name.

“Taylor? We’re going with my last name?” He asks, eyes shining in the dim light of the room.

You frown in confusion. “Of course Taylor, I mean I know we aren’t married, or even engaged. But I figured one day we might be, and I thought it could be nice to have our daughter have your last name, that way in the future we will all be Taylor’s…” You ramble, feeling your face flush in embarrassment. Maybe this was the wrong assumption to make? The pregnancy itself had been a bit of a surprise, though you had both decided it would work out for the best. Marriage, however, hadn’t been mentioned in anything other than fleeting conversations about the distant future. Roger’s lips are covering yours suddenly, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as you feel what you assume are tears running down your cheeks. They aren’t your tears though, these are all Roger’s. He pulls away from your lips, his baby blues swimming with unshed tears, before he moves down the bed somewhat, resting both of his hands on either side of your stomach.

“You hear that, you’re going to be Lillian Suzanne Taylor! And when you’re born, I’m going to propose to your mother, and then we’ll be a family on paper as well as in practise! And then when we get the dog, we’ll be a perfect family!” He gushes, pressing kisses to your stomach, as you run your hand through his blonde locks.

“So, you’re going to marry me, are you?” You tease, as he finally pulls away from your stomach, where he had been mumbling sweet nothings to your unborn daughter. He looks up at you with a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Well, I had planned on doing so. I don’t have a ring or anything at the moment, but say for instance I was to propose to you, would you say yes?”

You grin at him. “Of course I would say yes you idiot!” You giggle, as your lips meet once more, his hands resting against your hips as he slides you closer to him.

“Cool, good to know, I’ll keep that in mind.” He smirks, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I love you Y/N, I love you with my entire being.” He whispers, holding you closer, pressing soft kisses to your nose.

“I love you too Roger, and I know you’re going to be an amazing father when the time comes.” You assure him, as you scrunch up your nose at his kisses.

You lay in his embrace, both dozing on and off until the early hours of the morning, neither of you bothering to crawl back under the doona covers you had stripped off earlier, and despite the bedside lamp glaring into your eyes, you didn’t want to disturb Roger and ask him to turn it off. “Psst, Rog are you awake?” You murmur against his ear, watching as a sleepy frown slips over his brow.

“Mhm, I’m awake.” He all but yawns in response, his arms instinctively pulling you closer to him. He blinks his eyes open, searching for you for a moment, his glasses askew on his face from where he had pressed up against the pillow.

“Do you know if we still have any mint ice cream in the freezer?” You ask, the question catching him off guard, and you watch as the confusion crosses his face. “It’s not for me, it’s for Lillian!” You quickly defend, knowing he’s only seconds away from moaning about your ridiculous cravings. He rolls away from you to face the edge of the bed, pushing himself up to stand, all the while muttering under his breath about the injustice of the world. You close your eyes as he shuffles out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Stop complaining! Do it for your daughter!” You laugh out to him when you hear the freezer door close rather sharply.

“If my daughter isn’t careful, she will be called Galileo and the dog can be Lillian!” He calls back.

“Not gonna happen!” You giggle, as you wriggle up into a sitting position, tapping your fingers lightly against your stomach, feeling Lillian kick at the sensation. “We’re so excited to meet you Lillian, and you’re going to have the most amazing daddy in the world.” You whisper, as you settle back with a content smile on your lips, knowing that your little family was going to be just perfect.