#Considering the last part was written at three in the morning

[utterlyotterlyx]

Written In The Stars

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - As Azriel prepares himself for your wedding day, he recounts the moments where all of his dreams came true.

Warnings - fluff central, slight touch of angst, pining Az, lots of love all round

If there was anything that Azriel was sure of, it was you. It would always be you.

That morning had started the same as any other, although, there were two key differences. The first difference was that his mate hadn’t woken up beside him, and he walked through his memories and smiled at the one where Nesta, Feyre, Mor, and Elain had coaxed you out of the house whilst Amren sternly told the three Illyrians to not interrupt your last night as an unmarried woman or else face her wrath.

Azriel recounted the innocent terror in your eyes and chuckled roughly as the sun warmed his skin, urging him to wake.

Then he noted the second difference to his morning, it turned out that the day ahead wasn’t going to be like any other, and that no day would ever compare to what was to come. It was his wedding day. The day that he married the love of his life, his mate, his reason for existing.

His y/n.

Remembering the past 400 years, it dumbfounded Azriel how the bond hadn’t snapped sooner considering he had spent the better part of those 400 years pining after you, hopelessly in love with you and growing increasingly frustrated at your unawareness toward his affections.

There was no one in the world that was as bright and perfect as you.

They had met you in Windhaven, on a night so brutal that you had never nor ever would speak of it, and it was the only place you could go where your light would blinker. It flashed on your face often. Being the daughter to an Illyrian general meant that you had unfortunately fallen victim to the barbaric act known as wing clipping, and it was something you had worked your entire life to destroy.

Despite it all, you were as radiant as the sun, you were gifted that from your mother, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever think you'd see. Until Azriel that is. There was a certain warmth about you, a gut-wrenching scent of home that Azriel could never quite explain, an aura that pulled everyone around you into serenity and soothed any of their pain.

The day Rhys had figured out that you were an empathic healer was the day he knew that you and Azriel were meant to be. No one could soothe his pain more than you, and when he slept next to you he actually slept. No demons haunted his dreams, every villainous thought evaporated from his mind, and he felt peaceful. Truly peaceful.

Azriel remembered the moment the bond had snapped as if it had only occurred yesterday. It was one of the warmer days of the year and you had insisted upon a family day out, they were too rare even though you all spent the majority of your time together; you had leveraged Tarquin's adoration of you in your collective favour and bagged the family a day on the beaches of the Summer Court, promising that you'd keep a strict eye on Cassian and personally tie him to a pole if he stepped one toe out of line. Azriel had simply chuckled at your might as the words left your mouth.

Summer had always called to you, perhaps it was the sound of the waves, maybe it was the sand between your toes or the salted breeze that drifted by. Whatever it was, it moulded with you. Azriel had never seen you happier actually. The moment the bond had snapped had taken him by complete surprise, you were walking through the water with Nyx in your arms, occasionally dunking the babe in the water and smiling at his wild laughter as he emerged; when Nyx had resurfaced and grabbed your face in his little hands, staring at you like the brightest star in the sky, did the bond snap for Azriel.

Since that moment all he could ever imagine was the image of you with your own child, his child.

Frustratingly, the bond hadn't snapped for you in that moment, which was annoying as it was the perfect setting for it. Azriel dreamt of it when you had all returned home that evening, he dreamt of you feeling the snap and turning around with Nyx bundled up into your arms, he dreamt of your eyes connecting across the beach and the most serene smile etching its way onto your lips before the most joyful giggle passed through them.

But no, the Mother had decided to drag it out for as long as she possible could.

The entire of the Inner Circle had figured it out long before you did, only, you didn't figure it out. Azriel had pretty much screamed it at you after seeing you getting a little too up close and personal with another male during Starfall.

No one could have even tried to compare to your beauty that night, you wore a sheer dress embellished with a thousand crystals, priceless jewels that had been crafted just for you. The Star of Velaris. No one could shine brighter, not if they even wished it, and all eyes were on you and the silhouette of your figure the moment you stepped into the hall that was dressed to perfection at the House of Wind.

All air had left his lungs when his eyes found yours twinkling in the faelight, constellations inking your irises, and he knew then that no matter what he was going to tell you that he was your mate. Azriel was nervous, it was very well known that no one could ever be good enough for you, and he was terrified that you wouldn't accept it; and even more than that, Azriel was afraid that he'd lose you as a pillar in his life altogether.

Rhys had instructed the quartet to play your favourite rendition of your favourite song, it was slow and romantic, a flurry of alluring strides from the violins and crashing crescendos, if you could be a song then it would certainly be that one. Though, before Azriel could ask you to dance with him to the sweet melody, another male had swept in and taken you, curling his digits around the curve of your hip in a way that was meant to be his to do and his alone.

Azriel watched from the side-lines, itching to cut in and bring his plan to fruition, but he couldn't ruin a night made for you, not when you'd gone through so much effort to be the most spectacular thing in the room. Not that you needed to try by any means.

The moment you smiled at the male, so sultry, exposing all of your gleaming white teeth into a smile that could only be described as captivating, did Azriel completely lose his mind. Azriel crossed the dancefloor, gripping your wrist just as you were about to expose your neck to the male who believed he was righteous enough to have you, and dragged you from sight leaving behind the Inner Circle who all exchanged smug knowing looks to one another at the situation at hand.

"Azriel! What are you doing? Will you just stop for one pissing second?!" Your voice reverberated against the walls, you were struggling to keep up with his stalking, the effortless curls Mor had spent the better part of two hours styling whipping past your face in the breeze he was creating. "I swear to the Mother, Azriel. Will you please just slow down?"

It seemed as though Azriel had heard the request and cut his speed by a third, making it easier for you to scramble after him. You had continued to ask him what his problem was as he dragged you through the House of Wind, all up until he pushed through a familiar set of looming doors and pulled you in front of him, taking the opportunity to close the doors upon his own exit onto the balcony.

Looking at you in the moonlight despite your fury made him forget the reason why he dragged you from the party that you had helped Feyre to arrange, the way your dress sparkled in the light made him lose all sense entirely. "Did you drag me out here to say absolutely nothing? If so, I'll just head back to the party," you went to move past him, your fingers barely grazing the doorhandle before he wrapped a strong arm around your midsection and lifted you, setting you onto the ground on the other side of the clearing, "What is going on with you? Did something happen?" When he said nothing you took a step backward, the small of your back colliding with the stone railing keeping you from toppling over the edge, "Az, you're scaring me."

He'd never want to scare you, he fumbled with his words, stuttering out what he needed you to hear, and upon the sound of his insecurity your eyes softened. Tilting your head to the side gently to inspect him further, you hadn't noticed your hair sweep across your back, exposing the skin of your neck to him which almost sent him into a frenzy right then and there.

"You were dancing with him."

Furrowing your brow, you asked incredulously, "Am I not allowed to dance with a male now?"

"No. I mean, of course you are. Just not him."

"Then with who?"

That usual wit was prominent in the way you popped your hip to the side, hand resting on the bone as your temper rose, "You're meant to dance with me."

Scoffing, you turned around to face the open air, noting the flurry of gold from the valley below, turning your head to the side you smiled at the music floating from the ballroom in the grand hall, "I always dance with you, Az."

It wasn't a lie, you always sought Azriel out at these kind of events, even in the comfort of the River House it wasn't odd for Rhys or Cassian to return home to see you and Azriel dancing in the living area to some serene folk melody. The two were the first to know of the bond, Azriel had told them one evening when you had padded off to bed in one of his jumpers that drowned you, a ghosting grin tugged at his lips and he said, "Isn't my mate the most perfect creature you've ever witnessed?"

"It's not enough," Azriel approached you, admiring the way the breeze floated by your figure, sending the tendrils of your curls dancing in the wind that his shadows immediately shot out from his shoulders to waltz with.

A gentle chuckle rolled from your tongue at the act, you had always adored them, and they always found a certain level of peace when with you, just like everyone did. Turning back to him, you leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the hem, "Dancing with you isn't enough? How about all the nights we've fallen asleep next to one another reading? Or maybe all of the dinners we've been out to? Or the thousands of evenings where we've gotten drunk off our asses and gossiped? What about the countless missions we've been on together?"

The ignorance was making his blood boil with need, and he couldn't stop the words from flying from his mouth, "I'm your mate, y/n!"

Your body stilled, your eyes widened in shock, and the tether of your soul swam out to greet his own, curling around it and shuddering in untold delight but you didn't move at the sensation, you hadn't even let out a breath, "I have loved you for 400 years regardless of it, I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you all those years ago in Windhaven. I love everything that you have become, everything that you have grown into. It snapped the day we went to the Summer Court, the day you told Cassian that if he misbehaved that you'd tie him to a pole?" A huff of amusement flew from your lips at the memory, Cassian had never been so terrified of you in that moment.

"I was content in waiting for you no matter if it took 4 months or 400 years, I was happy to sit a watch you live your life whilst waiting for it to snap, but I can't stand by and watch another males hands roam all over you. It makes me think the most violent things I have ever thought in my entire existence."

"I didn't want to ruin it for you, but I can't watch another male hold you when I know that it should be me," Azriel strode over to you, cupping your face in his hand whilst his other wound around your own, pulling it your chest and resting your palm over your heart, "I'm yours y/n. Completely, utterly, hopelessly yours. So please say something, anything."

A moment passed, a moment that felt like an eternity to him as he waited for those beautiful lips to make a sound, "You've loved me for 400 years?" Azriel barely heard your question, he lowered his gaze to meet yours, brushing a stray stand of hair behind your ear and grazing the shell of it.

The gates of the bond had flung right open, and all you felt was the pure adoration and certainty of his feelings for you flowing down the tether tying your souls together, it made you feel as though you were floating. Azriel nodded, "And I know that it's impossible to love you more than I do right now, but I know that tomorrow I will, and each day after that."

Furling your fingers into the lapels of the jacket you had picked out for him, you pulled Azriel down to meet your lips in a clash of desperate nips and teeth; his hold strengthened around you, leaning you back into the stone railing and allowing his hands to rest on your neck and the small of your back as he deepened the embrace, moving his lips against yours in a way he was only able to dream of. Parting for air, you smirked against his lips, "I love you too."

Then the skies opened, streaks of starlight soured across the blank canvas of the night, like they were waiting for you both to finish until they put on their show. The citizens of Velaris couldn't stop talking about how it was the most magnificent Starfall they had ever witnessed, and both of you were inclined to agree.

It had made complete sense that the balcony where Azriel had confessed his feelings to you was the same place where you had decided to get married a year later to the exact day.

Mor and Nesta had made sure that the balcony was covered in faelights, Elain had designed a beautiful flower arch of orchids and freshly bloomed cala lilies that Lucien had been instructed to erect that morning, and Feyre was in charge of everything else. Bestowing the title of maid of honour to Feyre was the smartest decision you had made in the entire process, Cassian pouted for three days after she had accepted, but then you had asked Rhys to officiate the ceremony which meant that by default Cassian became Azriel's best man.

The fact that Azriel hadn't seen you for almost a day was driving him insane, he had to be near you each moment he was in the city, and even on missions he would constantly flood the bond with his love for you so that you'd know that he was alright and that he was just as obsessed with you as he was the moment he would leave. Every second you were with one another meant that he had to be touching you, whether it be his fingers grasping the skin of your thigh or pulling you onto his lap so he that could be as entwined with you as possible.

Even when he was meant to be readying himself for his wedding, all he could think about was you, he sent a flow of love and unwavering certainty down the bond and smirked to himself like a bashful schoolboy when the same flood was sent back to him.

"Are you ready to get married, Az? You can still run, no one would judge you," Azriel sent Cassian a warning glare, earning him a small apology in return for the stupid remark. There was no reality where Azriel wouldn't choose you, your bargain tattoo was proof of that fact, a promise you had both made the night you had solidified the bond, a promise that you would always find one another in any lifetime, in any world. One would not exist without the other.

Azriel's suit was impeccable, just how Feyre had ordered it to be, a black open collared shirt and form fitting pants, and a slightly oversized midnight blazer made that way because Feyre knew you'd be asking for it at some point during the course of the night. If Azriel looked this good then he could only imagine how other-worldly you would appear at the end of the aisle.

You had both decided on an intimate ceremony, the Inner Circle only, it meant more to you both that way. But the party afterward would be packed full of friends from across the continent, a rare allowance from Rhys for such a special occasion. Which meant that all of the High Lords were to be in attendance, which meant some very luxurious gifts for you and your to-be husband.

The night was perfect, a soft summer breeze floated through the city from the west, the warm faelights sparkled against the backdrop of the night sky and the golden valley of the city below, illuminating the pristinely bloomed flowers in their collective hue.

Azriel awaited you at the end of the aisle patiently, stood between Rhys and Cassian who were beaming with pride, the latter doing his best to contain his tears. Mor, Amren, Elain and Lucien found their places on either side of the makeshift aisle and all looked back as the door opened to reveal Feyre wearing a beautiful blue-grey gown adorned with crystals embellished into the skirt; she had clearly been crying, and that fact made a silent sob catch in Azriel's throat.

The High Lady approached the arch, smiling brightly at Azriel and blinking away her tears before kissing Rhys on the cheek and stepping off to the side. A gentle song consumed the small quartet that you had insisted upon having at the ceremony, playing the most beautiful rendition of your favourite song, a song that meant a great deal to both of you.

Inhaling deeply, Azriel watched the doors open once more, revealing Nesta with your arm linked through hers, she was wearing the twin dress to Feyre, her hair was unbound down her spine, and she had began crying before the doors had even opened by the way she dabbed a tissue against her cheeks.

Then he found you, your skin shimmered in the faelight, like a star had floated from the sky and brushed against your skin. The dress threatened to make him crumple to his knees, a white long-sleeved off-the-shoulder garment that accentuated every single curve and angle of your form; a thigh high cut in the fabric exposed your calf and that bargain tattoo on your thigh. Then was the matter of the veil, intricately crafted so that the hem resembled tendrils of white shadow, his own shadows reacted instantly, flowing from his body and pecking the hem of it as you drifted up the aisle arm in arm with Nesta.

Nesta hugged you tightly before finding her place beside Feyre, and you turned to Azriel, taking his outstretched hand and stepping up to the dais, "I told you that I'd love you more today," he spoke lowly, just loud enough for you alone to hear.

This time the stars didn't wait for the descent, the moment your lips touched one another, the stars unleashed their joy across the night sky, casting their glow across the entire city and dragging themselves right across the balcony where you stood, showering you and your husband in their love and happiness.

The entire of the Inner Circle danced well into the early hours of the morning, and you were right, inviting the other High Lords did have it perks considering the gifts you had received. But when the party began to die down and the last few souls dwindled in your presence, did Azriel whisk you away back to that balcony where you had both confessed your love a year prior, pulling you close to his body and ensuring that the night at the House of Wind ended doing the thing you loved doing most. Dancing in one another's arms until Azriel scooped you up and carried you back to your shared home on the bank of the Sidra.

It was safe to say that the Inner Circle didn't dare to contact you for an entire month afterward.

Author's Note

Just a little one from me x

[silovsmenot]

Bloody Nose | Matt Rempe

SUMMARY: During med school, your dad gets you a volunteer role with the New York Rangers to get some hands-on experience. On your first day, Matt Rempe clashes with Mathieu Olivier. WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & bruises. PAIRING: Matt Rempe x f! reader. NOTES: I don't think it's possible to not be feral for this guy. I'm sure this idea will have been done a hundred times before, but I couldn't help it. WORD COUNT: 1,600 FIND PART TWO HERE

It was not a role you were expecting as you were progressing through med school, in fact you never would’ve considered it if your dad didn’t know the general manager of the New York Rangers.

You needed some hands-on experience as part of your course, under supervision but in a real setting — while most of your friends went at found volunteer roles within doctors’ offices and hospitals where possible, you joined the medical team of the Rangers.

Of course, it was university policy that they had to approve the role, and they were quick to. You were not the first to find a role with a sports team, and you wouldn’t be the last. One student on the year above you spent a season with the Mets, which presented a whole different collection of injuries.

You didn't really know much about hockey, it had only been a passing interest as a child with your dad taking you to the odd game here and there ― you were certainly not a hockey fan but you were going to approach this with interest. And with how some of your friends publicly voiced their jealousy, you were becoming somewhat excited about the opportunity.

to expect. General hockey injuries ranged from the simple knocks, cuts and bumps to concussions, and everything in between. There was a lot that could happen, and you hadn't even considered the possibility of brawls yet.

In the early morning, you dressed into the simple uniform that you’d been given; a navy sports kit with the team logo and ‘team medic’ written simply across the back. You certainly looked the part. And with your hair tied back, you left your apartment for the airport. The medical staff travelled late to Columbus, and you’d be among them.

You’d already been introduced to the team medic, whose hand rose in a short wave at the first sight of you weaving through the small crowd. Simply relieved to see a familiar face within the flood of Rangers staff. In just under two hours, you were in Columbus, Ohio with a bubbling excitement.

For the whole ride to the rink, the senior medic talked you through your role. You’d take all of the ‘small’ injuries while he would be there for the more major, and any concussion assessments.

“Just be aware, Rempe likes a good fight — always be prepared to plug a bloody nose.” He sighed, giving your shoulder a friendly tap as he finally broke into a laugh. Excitement turned to a bubbling concern as you slowly nodded.

Players began to file into the arena, none having any idea who you were, but they did not question it. Staff came and went, and your navy Rangers tracksuit was enough to tell them that you were on the team.

There was one who’s eyes lingered a little longer than the others, and you felt your cheeks burning beneath his gaze. He must have been about a foot taller than you, shaggy brown hair and a mischievous grin that put a name to a face without even needing an introduction — this was Rempe.

You took your place at the end of the tunnel with the head medic, from there you’d watch the game, and be ready for any injuries that would come your way. Your heart was pounding as the puck dropped, this was for real and you silently pleaded that this would be a nice, calm game

But less than three minutes in, your eyes snapped up at the sound of the whistle — the gloves and sticks flying in different directions as two players grappled. You made no attempt to hide the rolling of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest towel, watching closely with each punch exchanged for any signs of blood. No blood meant they’d go to the box, you’d been told that much.

As the final punch was thrown, watching as the giant body of the Ranger was wrangled to the ice, none could miss the crimson that poured from his nose.

The head medic giving you the nod as you moved toward the gate ― a bloody nose was something that you could handle with your eyes closed, and he knew that. This was your one to handle.

You watched as the massive body of Rempe was skated to the bench by a referee, his eyes caught upon you once more as his lips curved into a pained grin. The crowd were going wild, stood on their feet as they cheered and screamed. It was your arm that he took as he stepped off the ice, the various hands of Rangers teammates tapping the 21-year-old on the back as you led him down the tunnel.

“Feeling okay?” You shouted over the cheers of the crowd as soon as you'd cleared the bench. You had to cock your head just to meet his eyes, his massive 6’8 body at your side. He almost flinched at the sound of your voice, the first words you’d spoken to him.

He didn't reply, he only nodded as he grinned, a bloody thumb raised for you to see. He was proud of himself and that was written clearly across his bloody face.

“Do me a favour,” You sighed, your hand pushing open the door to the medical room with the familiar pharmaceutical smell. “Warn me next time.”

That was enough to bring a laugh from his bloody lips, a bearish hand rising to wipe the crimson with a large smudge across his pale cheek. The red liquid was already everywhere, he’d need a blood jersey and you’d need a few minutes to clean this mess up.

“No promises, boss.” He teased in a whisper, dropping upon the medical bed with a thud. “What’s your name?”

You’d turned your back to him before he asked, collecting a cup of water and a handful of towels. It was well-timed as you felt that flushing of your cheeks almost instantly at his question.

“y/n, why?”

He sat completely still as you returned with hands full of towels are cotton wool, Matt had done this enough times to know what you’d ask him to do. His hand was already out and ready for the water that you’d give to him to swill out his bloody mouth.

“I’ve just not seen you with the team before … I’m Matt.”

You nodded in a silent ‘i know’, which made him laugh again. The pained grin seemingly stuck upon his lips as he watched you closely, every movement as if it were the first time he was seeing it — like he was seriously interested in the towels and the rolled wool. It was enough to bring that fluttering to your stomach.

He leaned forward onto his legs, bloody hands firmly planted upon his knees as he closed a gap between you. His voice no more than a whisper.

“Did you like my fight?”

You could feel his hot breath upon your skin as you stood, unmoving with a heavy inhale parting your lips. You were ready for blood and for broken bones, but you were not ready for this. Whatever this was.

“Do the girls normally like it?” You finally replied as you steadied yourself, brow rising in your own tease. Two could play that game, and you intended to play if he did.

Though he would not say it, your response drove him wild — that grin deepened as he leaned a little closer, his head cocking to keep your gaze tied with his own.

“They do.”

A slow nod, your hand placing the cup of water on the table beside him, your brow rose.

“How about you ask me when you win next time?”

It was far from the answer that he was expecting, but fuck — he liked the answer. He was resisting every urge to touch you, he sorely wanted to. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight, but you were very tempting to him.

You both, almost at the same time, broke into a shared laughter. His massive frame straightening up as he’d collect the cup of water, swilling the clear liquid before it would dribbling from his lips into the cup with a red tint.

“I don’t think you need me to do this for you?” You spoke with towels held toward him. He shook his head, taking them from you with a nod of thanks and began to wipe at the crusting crimson.

Things were quiet for a few moments, white towels turned red as his face became cleaner with each moment. The team’s kit manager would poke his head in with a clean jersey, which you quickly handed across.

You’d help him remove the blood-splattered jersey, catching a glimpse of his bare torso beneath the pads. Eyes were stuck upon the pale skin, which of course, he noticed. He liked that you were looking. Even as you helped him pull on the fresh, white jersey, his lips remained curved in the cheeky grin.

“You should come out for a drink with us after this.” Matt muttered with brows rising and falling, giving you a little nudge as he rose for the table and, once more, towered above you.

He crossed the room first, opening the door and holding it wide for you to exit first. As you walked through, you looked up with lips curved deep. You never expected to be glad of a fight, but you’d almost enjoyed wiping away all that blood.

“Maybe I will.”

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Gwayne and his wife visit King's Landing with their children, who are very jealous of the fact that their cousins own their dragons and they do not. In the meantime, Otto Hightower wonders if his daughter-in-law is truly loyal to his house.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one and it's the last one of this story. 😊💚 In the show Gwayne mentions that it took him three months to get to King's Landing but I was using some website while writing previous parts where it says that it takes a week from Oldtown to Highgarden and, according to the same logic, it takes less than a month from Highgarden to King's Landing – that's why I decided to make the whole trip only a month long here. 🤔

WARNINGS — Alicent slapping Aegon's face, Reader's child getting hurt (nothing major)

WORD COUNT — 6,870

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

Past few weeks had been busy and spent on making all the necessary preparations before the long trip. Oldtown would be left without the Lord or Lady to look after it for around three months and it required lots of training and instructing all the servants and knights around the city what to do in your absence.

You had been summoned by your father-in-law and his daughter, The Queen Consort. They had invited your Lord Husband and you to King’s Landing to spend time together – even though you had a very weird feeling the sudden need to create a stronger bond within the family was dictated by some hidden agenda. Either way, you were rather excited for the trip even though it would take about a month on the road to even get to the capital city of Westeros.

What stressed you the most was travelling for so long with four children you had given Gwayne for the past few years. Your eldest son Edmund was twelve now and his brother William was ten. Your daughter Rosalynd was eight and her sister Florys was six. You were glad that the time when you had been pregnant nearly constantly was over now and you could enjoy the ups and downs of motherhood without many worries because your husband was a man devoted to his family. Gwayne had not only been raising his sons and teaching them all they needed to know about the sword but he also made sure to spend quality time with his daughters. And above that all, he was simply a caring and sweet husband. No matter how many years had passed.

Your trip started in the very early morning and you all were half asleep while getting inside the carriage. Rosalynd was sleeping with her head on your lap and little Florys was asleep in her father’s arms. Edmund and William were looking out of the window, excited and interested in everything that they were seeing although the road to The Highgarden was very well known to them. Because you lived so close to your parents, your children were often visiting their castle. 

What started peacefully, soon turned out to be a little nightmare. The children were very whiny and easily getting bored. When you reached The Highgarden a week after leaving Oldtown, you were seriously considering coming back home instead of going further down the Rose Road. 

“It is only the beginning of the trip and it is already exhausting,” you complained to your parents during supper when you were staying overnight at their place.

“You might not get a second chance to go to King’s Landing, my darling,” your father reminded you. “Endure it.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Gwayne chuckled and shook his head.

“I do not understand,” your mother spoke up. “Look at them, my grandchildren,” she smiled at the four of your children eating their meals quietly. “They’re so well-behaved. Little angels, really,” she sighed lovingly.

“Perhaps we might leave them here for three moons, how about that?” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “We shall leave for King's Landing on the morrow while you watch over them.”

“I would love to,” your mother grinned.

“I would not,” your father’s eyes widened at the idea.

“I do not think that is a good idea, my Lady,” Gwayne put his hand on top of yours gently and you looked at him, confused. “To spend three moons without my little ones would be a nightmare,” he explained and your smile dropped.

Gwayne was right. You would miss your children dearly, too. You were sending them sometimes to spend two weeks at The Highgarden with their grandparents and given the fact the trip lasted a week, it would be a month away from you. It was barely bearable already whenever it happened. Three months sounded like torture.

“My Gwayne is right,” you sighed and laid your tired eyes on your mother. “They must go with us. Also, just like Lord Father said, such a chance might not happen again. They should see King’s Landing, too,” you nodded.

In the early morning of the next day, you were already back on the Rose Road, which took you through the town of Bitterbridge to The Kingswood where you entered The Kingsroad and The Crownlands. You had never been there and only two times before you had been on the road for such a long time. Both times it had been to attend your sister’s weddings. One had taken place in Dorne and the second had been in The Vale. 

Once you entered The Kingsroad, it would only take you a few days to reach King’s Landing and you were more than grateful for that. Both you and Gwayne were exhausted after trying to entertain your children on the road and attempting to tame their tantrums caused by boredom and frustration.

The night before reaching King’s Landing you were sleeping at the castle of some lesser Lord who lived nearby the road. You had been given the guest rooms but you couldn’t fall asleep, both excited and anxious about the next day.

“What are you possibly scared of, my love?” Gwayne soothed you by caressing your face with his fingertips when you were laying in his arms and staring at the ceiling instead of drifting off to the land of dreams. “You had met my father already and he seems to be quite indifferent towards you,” he pointed out.

Otto Hightower had visited Oldtown a few times after your wedding to his son and what Gwayne had said was painfully true – he seemed to be indifferent towards you. Just like he was indifferent towards his own son. The only signs of affection you had seen in him were for your daughters. He hadn’t even thanked you for giving him two healthy grandsons and heirs – his attention had been fully focused on the girls. It was quite adorable, you had to admit. But it was also saddening for your husband and sons.

“What about your sister? The King? Will our children get along with their cousins?” You voiced out all your insecurities in a low whisper. “And The Targaryens… I do fear them, Gwayne. People say they are more gods than men.”

“I am sure they are men just like you and I,” Gwayne smiled and kissed your forehead while caressing your arm.

“They have dragons…” You sighed.

“We probably will not even encounter one,” he assured you. “And do not be afraid of my sister or her husband. Are you not always reminding everyone that you are a sister-in-law of The Queen? Now it is time to meet her personally,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

You somehow managed to get some sleep on that night. In the morning you had your dress prepared already because you had been planning to wear it for quite a long time. Your maids helped you to put on the elegant green gown that was pretty low-cut. You were a daughter of The Highgarden and you had never stopped wearing such necklines. Your own Lord Husband had given up already on trying to change that – in fact, he enjoyed it. You decorated your exposed neck with a golden pendant of The Seven-Pointed Star to make Queen Alicent happy.

Gwayne found it quite funny but you gave him a scolding look.

Your children had green outfits, too. Pretty little green dresses on your girls and dark green tunics with The Hightower beacon embroidered on them on your boys. The Hightowers were coming to King’s Landing.

When you reached the city you were staring out of the window with as much curiosity as your children. Gwayne had been in the capital once before for the tournament when he had been very young so his excitement was not as big.

Lots of people were staring at your carriage with a hint of curiosity. They knew that The Hightowers were The Queen’s family and for that reason some of them waved shyly at you. You were trying to wave back but Rosalynd and Florys were the ones who actually enjoyed it the most – feeling like little Princesses greeting the crowd. So, you allowed them to have fun as you leaned back on your seat. Your hand found Gwayne’s immediately and you squeezed it.

“You better be on your best behaviour once we reach The Red Keep,” you told your sons. “All of you,” you laid your eyes on your giggling daughters.

“You do not need to worry, mother,” Edmund nodded at you and straightened his back, trying to present himself more mature.

“I cannot wait to train with my cousins,” William added. “Father, will we be able to?”

“I do think so,” Gwayne nodded with a smile at him and leaned in to fix William’s ruffled hair.

“I cannot wait to spend time with Princess Helaena,” Rosalynd sighed dreamily. “She must be so ethereal… A Targaryen Princess…”

“I want to see grampa,” Florys’ eyes sparkled and you chuckled at your sweet little girl.

You smiled nervously at your husband when you realised you were already entering The Red Keep’s courtyard and a few people were waiting for you. You spotted your tall father-in-law and that beautiful woman standing next to him had to be Queen Alicent herself. She had soft, curly hair in the auburn colour and her dress was of the same shade of green as yours. You sincerely hoped it would not be considered rude of you but you had no idea. There were three silver-haired children with them – two boys and a girl. They had to be Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond.

“Grampa!” Florys clapped her hands excitedly and already moved to the carriage’s door.

“Florys, mummy and daddy are leaving the carriage first,” you reminded her softly.

“Do try to behave like a big girl!” Her older sister scolded her. “We are in King’s Landing!”

“Rosalynd, you are not her Lady Mother,” Gwayne reminded his daughter.

In the meantime, the servant announced your family and opened the door of the carriage. You took a deep breath in and watched your husband get out before offering you his hand to help you. You took it softly and wore a nervous smile before facing your in-laws.

The moment your feet touched the ground, you felt something moving behind your skirts. It was little Florys jumping out of the carriage already and running as fast as possible towards her grandfather. Everyone froze for a moment and widened their eyes at the scene.

“Grampa!” Florys reached her hands out and Otto Hightower let out a nervous chuckle before crouching down to give her a tight squeeze.

“You are being impatient, Lady Florys,” he greeted her and she clapped her hands.

Rosalynd stood by your side with a sigh and an eye-roll. Meanwhile, your sons chose to stand by their father. Since Florys had broken all the protocols already anyway, you decided to simply walk up to The Queen without caring about the right order as you nodded at your husband. He nodded back and only then Rosalynd ran up to her grandfather as well to give him a hug, too.

You sighed and shook your head before walking up to Queen Alicent herself. Your sons followed you and Gwayne while Otto whispered something to the girls, which made their faces go serious as they joined your side, too. You all bowed down respectfully. 

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Sister,” Gwayne kissed the palm of her hand.

From the corner of your eye you spotted the older Prince yawning. Queen Alicent blushed and pushed him slightly with her elbow.

“I see we both struggle when it comes to disciplining our offspring,” she smiled at you but you noticed how she looked down at your low-cut dress and the religious pendant on your exposed chest. She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the sight but she decided not to comment.

“Lady Hightower,” your father-in-law kissed the palm of your hand.

“Lord Father,” you greeted him and he gave you a shadow of a smile.

At his son, he only nodded. Gwayne nodded back and clenched his jaw.

“My grandsons,” Otto approached your boys and shook their hands. “Let me introduce the young Princes to you,” he pointed at the silver-haired boys standing by Queen Alicent’s side. “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond.”

“Lord Edmund,” Edmund introduced himself and extended his hand towards Aegon. Prince Aegon looked him up and down and after a while of hesitation, he shook your son’s hand.

“Lord William,” your younger boy introduced himself and reached out for Aemond’s hand. Prince Aemond shook it shyly.

“Are you Princess Helaena?” Rosalynd stood in front of the Princess with Florys hiding behind her. 

The silver-haired girl widened her eyes and looked pretty startled. She took a step back and Rosalynd furrowed her brow.

“Princess Helaena is of a… rather timid nature,” Queen Alicent explained.

“Let us come inside, you must be exhausted after the journey,” Otto pointed at the doors leading to the castle.

“Do not even get me started, Lord Father,” Gwayne chuckled. “And certainly do not get my Lady Wife started,” he added teasingly and you shot him a scolding glance.

The first day was pretty chaotic because everyone was exhausted but also excited to see as much as possible of The Red Keep. Otto Hightower gave you and your children a tour himself. The only place he avoided were the chambers of The King who was ill and you had already been told you would not see him most likely.

Gwayne had already seen The Red Keep before but it had been before his sister was The Queen so now he was allowed in more places. He joined your little tour and kept his hands on your sons’ shoulders, while your daughters were holding Otto’s hands. 

To your surprise, during the supper, you quite befriended Queen Alicent. Of course she was still frowning upon your dress but you bonded over the experience of motherhood.

“The Red Keep is so green now,” your father-in-law pointed out happily at the sight of you, his children and grandchildren by the long table. All dressed in green clothes to show off their Hightower surname. “It makes me glad. Gwayne, I would like to have a word with you after supper.”

“Tomorrow, father,” Gwayne shook his head. “We are tired after the journey.”

Otto didn’t say anything to that but he gave his son quite an unpleasant look. You squeezed your husband’s hand underneath the table and caressed the palm of his hand lovingly to soothe him.

You retired to your chambers pretty early because you were longing for the comforts of a bed. Your husband and children followed and you made sure they all found their rooms and beds before you went to your own chambers.

“What do you think is the matter he wishes to discuss with you?” You asked Gwayne while brushing your hair in front of the mirror by the vanity table. He was sitting up on the bed and watching you with admiration in his eyes as every evening. “Do you think it is something about Oldtown?”

“No,” Gwayne shakes his head. “Those instructions have always been sent to us by ravens. It must be something about… the future and its possibilities.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You furrowed your brow and turned around to see his face better.

“You know that my father wants Prince Aegon on The Iron Throne, not Princess Rhaenyra,” your husband reminded you. “And The King might die soon. We are not even allowed to see him.”

“They say he is slowly decaying with each passing day,” you winced when you imagined such a thing happening to a person.

“That must be a terrible fate,” Gwayne sighed. “However, his death will bring the conflict of succession.”

“What conflict?” You asked. “Aegon is his eldest son.”

Gwayne squinted his eyes and then shook his head with a chuckle.

“My father is underestimating you, my sweetling,” he hummed to himself. “Now, come here, since we are sleeping in The Red Keep, I want to make you feel like a Princess,” he opened his arms for you to join him but you only scoffed and put the hairbrush down before fixing your hair with your hands.

“I am not a child anymore, Lord Husband,” you teased. “You shall make me feel like a Queen.”

You and Queen Alicent were sitting in the garden together and watching your daughters trying to befriend each other. Rosalynd and Florys were pretty grossed out and shocked to see Princess Helaena sitting on the grass and picking up all sorts of bugs and insects to examine with her curious eyes. She handed Rosalynd a spider once and your daughter nearly fainted at the sight.

Princess Helaena was of a gentle nature, though. She seemed to like her younger cousins and she was whispering to them all the details about every bug she was picking up. Florys was more interested in them than Rosalynd. Your eight years old daughter was often shooting you meaningful glances but you were only smiling at her in return.

The young princes and your sons were training together in the courtyard with Gwayne and Ser Criston Cole, whom you had recently met. You wondered how it was going, so you decided to finally put Rosalynd out of her misery.

“Shall we check on our sons, Your Grace?” You asked Queen Alicent but she seemed to be surprised.

“What for?” She inquired. “Are they not with the men who teach them?”

“I like to watch my sons while they train and cheer for them,” you told her and smiled softly. She visibly did not understand the appeal of it but she stood up from the bench and you followed. “Girls,” you looked behind your shoulder and extended your hand. “Come.”

Florys ran up to you to take your hand while Rosalynd and Helaena followed quietly behind you. You could hear your daughter desperately trying to start a conversation she was dying to have with a real Princess.

“You must own so many beautiful dresses, Helaena! What is your favourite colour?”

“Beige,” Helaena answered, clearly uninterested but also not wanting to make her cousin sad.

“Nice…” Rosalynd sighed and you could hear that she was disappointed in that answer. “Do you think you could give me some of your old dresses that do not fit you anymore?”

“Rosalynd!” You gasped as you scolded her.

“That is quite alright, Lady Hightower. We shall gift Rosalynd some of Helaena’s old dresses,” Queen Alicent nodded at you and caressed her daughter’s head lovingly.

“Thank you, my Queen,” you smiled at her and then you gave Rosalynd a meaningful look.

“Thank you, aunt,” the girl bowed down happily.

You reached the courtyard but to your surprise, your sons and the young princes were spending time together on their own, whispering and laughing about something, while your husband seemed to be in the middle of an argument with the other knight.

“Is that what you teach them, Ser Criston?” Gwayne was irritated. “Knights shall be chivalrous and rightful.”

“They are no knights, Ser Gwayne, for they are young princes,” Ser Criston answered.

“Gwayne,” you approached them quickly to stand beside your husband and rub his arm before intertwining yours with his. “How is the training going?”

“Oh, rather marvellous, Lady Wife,” he answered, his voice filled with irony and mockery as he looked Ser Criston up and down. “I have a fascinating conversation with Ser Criston here about the manners of a knight. Perhaps they do not teach them in Dorne.”

“You are from Dorne, Ser?” You tried to change the subject as you looked at the man standing in front of you.

“Yes, my Lady,” Ser Criston nodded at you.

“My sister Olenna married a lesser Lord from Dorne,” you told him. “A Toland,” you explained.

“I hope she has found her happiness with him, my Lady,” Ser Criston cracked a smile at you, which made Gwayne move uncomfortably.

“Barely,” you had to admit with a sigh and Ser Criston’s smile turned into a frown.

Before the conversation would become even more awkward, you were interrupted by Edmund and William running up to you and tugging onto your skirts, making both you and your husband turn around.

“What is it?” You asked them.

“Can we go to the dragon pit to see the dragons?!” William’s eyes widened out of excitement.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” you shook your head as your heart skipped a beat out of fear at the thought.

“We only wish to see them,” Edmund explained. “Father…”

“Your mother is right,” Gwayne agreed with you.

“But should not a knight be brave? I want to see a dragon and so does William!” Edmund insisted and sadly, the mention of the knighthood convinced your husband – especially after an argument with Ser Criston about the very same matter.

“Alright then, but be careful you two,” Gwayne nodded and you watched with terror in your eyes as two of your sons ran away to join their cousins and a few servants on the way.

“Gwayne…!” You gasped.

“Worry not,” Queen Alicent’s voice made you turn around. “The Dragonkeepers and the guards are there.”

After hearing this, your daughters seemed to be interested as well. Rosalynd gave you puppy eyes.

“Can we go, too, mother?” She asked.

“Are you a squire, Rosalynd? Or Florys – is she?” You shook your head.

“Let them go, my Lady. It is better to feed the curiosity instead of letting it grow,” Ser Criston spoke and you shot him a deadly glance but you were sort of forced to agree to your daughter’s request now.

You nodded, reluctantly and watched the girls run away to join their brothers and cousins. Princess Helaena remained by her mother’s side, though.

“What about the young Princess?” Gwayne asked her with a smile and lifted her chin up gently with his finger.

“I do not find pleasure in flying, uncle,” she admitted.

You quickly regretted your decision to allow your children to see the dragons. They seemed to be mesmerised by the creatures and they could not stop whining about the fact they did not have their own beasts to ride.

“They are our cousins, mother,” Edmund kept whining to you on your way back from the supper. “Vhagar is so huge… It is so unfair we do not have any dragons and they do have so many!”

“They are princes and you are lords,” you reminded him. “They are Targaryens and you are Hightowers,��� you added. “There is no shame in being different.”

“We are not different, Lady Mother,” Rosalynd rolled her eyes. “We are simply worse.”

“I am not jealous,” Florys saved the day with her sweet confession although her siblings shot her a deadly glance. She clinged to her father’s hand and sighed. “Dragons are big and I am small,” she explained and you chuckled because you found her reasoning adorable.

“You are just a coward because you are a girl!” William pointed out.

“I am a girl, too!” Rosalynd protested. “And I am not afraid. In fact, I would surely have a bigger dragon than you!”

“That is enough,” Gwayne shushed them. “Go to your beds, all of you. Sweet dreams about dragons – dreams, only,” he pointed out with a chuckle but the children did not find it funny.

“Goodnight, daddy, mummy,” Florys nodded and dragged Rosalynd with her to their shared chambers. Your older daughter only mumbled her goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Edmund and William both nodded and walked away, still frustrated and offended by the injustice of life and your light treatment of their situation.

You and Gwayne looked at each other and chuckled before going to your own bedroom.

You were asleep in your husband’s arms. The bed you shared in The Red Keep was twice as big as the one you had in Oldtown but you still were sleeping close in the middle of it. Your face was buried in the thin fabric of his shirt and Gwayne had his chin on top of your head and his arms wrapped around you just like yours were wrapped around his chest.

Sudden, loud and rapid knocking upon your doors made you both startle in your sleep and open your eyes. Gwayne sat up and rubbed his eyes and you hid your yawn with your hand.

“What is it?!” Your husband grunted and left the bed to grab a robe laying on the chair and put it on loosely. You sat up as well and watched his silhouette approaching the doors in the darkness of the room. “Someone better be dying,” Gwayne opened the doors and looked the servant up and down.

“F-forgive me for the rapid interruption, my Lord, my Lady…” The man stuttered. He was holding a candle to light up the room a little. “It is about your children…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that and you jumped out of the bed to stand behind your husband.

“What is it? What happened?!” You inquired. “Which children?”

“Lord Edmund is hurt, my Lady. Lord William and Lady Rosalynd seem to be alright but they were involved in it, too,” the servant swallowed thickly after delivering the dreadful news.

“Hurt?!” You squealed and squeezed your husband’s arm out of fear.

“Involved in what?” Gwayne furrowed his eyebrow.

“Apparently, young lords and the lady attempted to claim their own dragons with the help of Prince Aegon,” the servant explained and you nearly fainted at the news. Gwayne’s face went a shade paler in an instant.

“Where are they now?” He asked.

“Everyone is gathering, my Lord. You are expected in the dining hall,” he explained and walked away.

“Gods…” You whimpered and grabbed the very first dress to put on over your nightgown. You did not care much about your appearance at such a moment. Your hands were shaking because you were worried about your children, especially Edmund who was hurt.

Looking presentable enough, both you and Gwayne hurried downstairs and straight into the dining hall. Queen Alicent was there, too and so were Ser Cole and your father-in-law. Your eldest son was being looked after by a maester while William and Rosalynd were standing behind him with their heads kept low. Florys was scared and clinging to Otto’s hand. Prince Aegon looked pretty terrified, too, and he was not even smirking or laughing as usual.

“What happened?! Edmund!” You left Gwayne’s side to rush to your son. Your heart clenched inside your chest at the sight of his cheek burnt slightly. His lips and eyes were unharmed and for that he was lucky but there was a long burnt line on his cheek that would surely not heal completely and leave a scar. “Oh, Edmund…!” You sobbed and pressed the good side of his face to your chest.

“I am alright, mother,” he whispered.

“What were you thinking?!” Gwayne lost his temper but you knew it was dictated by worry and fear. “Grown tired of living, have you?!” He addressed William and Rosalynd now and they both looked away, ashamed.

“I did not go, daddy!” Florys exclaimed proudly. “And I was telling them it was a bad idea!”

“Shut your mouth, Florys!” Rosalynd scolded her and Florys hid herself behind her grandfather. Gwayne clenched his jaw.

“Do not speak to your sister this way, Rosalynd. Do not speak at all, I advise,” he pointed his finger at his daughter and she looked down again. “Whose idea was it?!”

Both William and Rosalynd pointed their fingers at Edmund. Even Florys stuck her little hand out from behind her grandfather to point at her eldest brother.

“Traitors!” Edmund shouted at them.

You looked down at your son’s face. He winced while the maester was putting an ointment on his injury.

“You’re scarred for life,” you sniffled your tears back. “My sweet boy…”

“I have nearly gained a dragon,” he told you proudly. “And the scar does not bother me, mother, for I have survived the attempt. I shall try again soon.”

“You could never own a dragon, son! Only Targaryens can own and ride them! It is common knowledge!” Gwayne raised his hands up as if he was giving up.

Aegon moved uncomfortably while Edmund shot him a glance full of hatred.

“What is it?” Queen Alicent asked, already sensing her own son’s involvement in this whole thing being much worse than she had expected.

“It was Aegon!” Edmund’s lower lip trembled suddenly. “He told us we could gain our own dragons, too! That we can claim the spare ones or Helaena’s since she has no interest in it!” He confessed.

Now everyone’s angry eyes were laid upon the young Prince. He huffed with an eye roll but his cheeks turned crimson red.

“I did not know,” he whispered. “I did not know that only we can ride them.”

You were filled with rage. Your eldest son liked to pretend he was more mature than the rest of his siblings but he was only twelve after all – he was still a child. Prince Aegon was the eldest out of the cousins and he should had known better.

“You have cruelly teased my children to risk their lives… To… To possibly lose them and die!” You approached him angrily and began to shake him by his arms. You couldn't care less that he was a Prince. You wanted him punished. “And now you are playing a fool by saying such a stupidity! You insolent son of a–”

“(Y/N),” Gwayne stopped you as he rushed to you and put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off.

“Edmund has a scar for life!” You sobbed again.

“Mother, I am alright!” Your son’s voice reached your ears.

“I did not know…!” Scared Aegon was trying to get out of your grip and Queen Alicent was attempting to help him by pushing your hands away.

“Lady Hightower, be reasonable!” She pleaded. “I shall punish my son accordingly but it is my punishment to give him, not yours!”

“My children could have died! All of them!” You screamed at her.

“Not me!” Florys squealed.

“Shush, my darling,” Otto scolded her gently. “All of us should calm down now. After all, everybody is alive, thank Gods,” he pointed out and you pushed Aegon away before angrily turning around.

The maester was no longer sitting by Edmund’s side and now you approached your boy to grab him by his shirt and drag him towards Otto.

“Look at him! My son nearly died!” You yelled at him. “Do not order me to calm down, Lord Father!”

“Mother, let go of me, it hurts,” Edmund whined and you stopped pulling him by his shirt but your whole body was trembling out of anger, fear and frustration. “Young Prince Aegon should learn how to treat other people, especially the weaker ones…” You patted your own chest with your fist and your son huffed at the word weaker. “...if you wish to put him on the throne!” You finished and the whole room went silent.

It was something that should not be said out loud. Thankfully, everyone inside the dining hall was on the same side when it came to the conflict of succession.

“That is enough, my Lady,” Gwayne shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of his surprised father’s sight. “I am sure Prince Aegon will be punished for his behaviour by his own parents.”

“I did not know, I swear!” Aegon whined. “I would not want cousin Edmund or cousin William to get hurt and especially not cousin Rosalynd!”

“Save it!” Queen Alicent scolded him angrily and slapped his face. “You have outdone yourself this time, Aegon!”

Gwayne was rubbing your arms soothingly and pressed you closer to his body by putting his hand in the back of your head. Your heartbeat was slowing down and your breath was coming back to normal.

“I think we should all agree to collectively remove Lady Hightower’s accusation from our memories,” Otto spoke calmly. “And that it is time to go back to our beds.”

All of your children approached you, clinging to your skirts, except for Edmund who felt stupid and guilty now, embarrassed. He was looking down and clasped his hands behind his back but Gwayne put his hand around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“Your grandfather is right, it is time to go back to our beds. If we manage to fall asleep after such a night,” he pointed out.

Prince Aegon did not show up for the breakfast and you were glad he did not because you would tear him apart if you saw him. Now, after taking a better look at your son’s injury in the morning light, you were heartbroken. His scar would probably look intimidating when he would become the fearsome knight he wanted to be but you were his mother and your heart ached for him. 

The breakfast overall was pretty quiet and after the meal Gwayne took your sons to the courtyard to continue their training while Rosalynd and Florys followed Queen Alicent to Princess Helaena’s chambers for the girls to embroider together. Rosalynd also hoped to try on some of Princess Helaena’s dresses. You considered not allowing her to take any as a form of punishment for yesterday's stunt but you eventually decided it would be too cruel.

You were asked by your father-in-law to see him after breakfast and you kind of dreaded the conversation because you had a feeling what it would be about. Gwayne wanted to accompany you but you disagreed because it would make you look weak and scared. You had to face Otto Hightower alone. Gwayne had reluctantly agreed but he had assured you that he would remain by your side no matter what your father-in-law would say to you.

On your way to his chambers, you walked past Prince Aegon’s room. The doors were ajar and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. At first, seeing him brought back all the memories from the last night and all the anger. But after a short while of staring at him, you noticed that he was… sad.

It confused you as you kept staring and in the meantime, he spotted your presence. He got startled a little, knowing that you were alone now since his guard was nowhere to be seen and his mother was not there to push you away if you attacked him again.

He approached the doors to close them but he kept glancing at you like a beaten dog and even dared to speak.

“Is my cousin alright, aunt?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with guilt and worry. Suddenly, you started to have a feeling he had not been lying. Perhaps he truly had not known about the Targaryens being the only people who could ride dragons.

It would not surprise you because your father-in-law had been complaining about Prince Aegon not wanting to study his books and his knowledge of High Valyrian was… questionable.

“Edmund is quite alright,” you nodded at him and took a step ahead before he would close the doors. “Can we talk?”

Aegon hesitated but he looked down and nodded, letting you inside. You entered his chambers and looked around, humming at the sight of a wine goblet on his nightstand table.

“I truly did not know about the dragons, I am sorry,” Aegon confessed. “I know I am of a rather careless nature but I would not risk my cousins’ life,” he added and you sighed.

After a short while of hesitation, you approached him and caressed his hair before putting a silver strand behind his ear and lifting his chin up to make him look into your eyes.

“I am sorry for my outburst, young Prince. I do believe you now,” you assured him with a soft smile. “It still was irresponsible and foolish but I see now that your intentions were not malicious,” you nodded and his eyes sparkled at your words.

“Really? You do believe me, aunt?” He couldn’t be convinced and it made you sad to see it.

“I do,” you moved your hand away from his face. “To see a scar on my son’s face is painful for a mother but I do realise he does not mind it at all and he is proud of how he gained it. Let it be then,” you sighed. “It cannot be undone anyway.”

A short while of silence occurred between you two and you smiled at Aegon before approaching the doors again.

“You should join uncle Gwayne and my sons in the courtyard, my Prince. They are training with Ser Cole and young Prince Aemond,” you encouraged him. “And I shall leave now to speak with your grandfather.”

Aegon nodded at you and you left his chambers to hurry to Otto Hightower’s room where he was already waiting for you. He gave you a scolding look when you entered.

“What took you so long, Lady Hightower?” He asked, sitting on an armchair by the fireplace.

“I was stopped on the way, Lord Father,” you explained calmly and he pointed at the armchair next to his. You took a seat there and waited for him to start the conversation.

“We shall speak about last night,” he started.

“I do believe it was your idea to remove my accusations from the memory,” you reminded and he shot you an unpleasant glance.

“I need to know where you stand,” he looked deep into your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You furrowed your brows. “What does it matter?”

“You have a great influence on my son. Much bigger than a wife should have on any man,” Otto pointed out. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“Speak plainly, Lord Father,” you challenged him with a head held high. “And I shall tell you.”

Otto hesitated as he looked at the dancing flames for a while. You waited patiently until he eventually laid his eyes on you again with the most serious expression.

“Do you support Prince Aegon as the future King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men?” Otto lowered his voice – his whispers were nearly audible.

“I believe you wish to know if I support your treason,” you raised an eyebrow and Otto clenched his jaw. “I do,” you nodded. “Prince Aegon is half-Hightower and I shall always support my family,” you added and stood up. “Does that answer satisfy you, my Lord? I shall join my sons and husband in the courtyard. I have promised them to watch their training,” you explained.

“You can go,” Otto dismissed you and you turned around but then you stopped.

“Lord Father?” You looked at him one more time.

“Yes?” He looked up to meet your gaze with furrowed brows.

“I shall ensure that my own Lord Father – Lord Tyrell – supports King Aegon when the time comes,” you promised.

Otto only nodded at you and you nodded back before walking out of his chambers and hurrying downstairs to the courtyard.

You smiled at the sight of your boys being instructed by their father. Prince Aegon joined them in the meantime as well and you waved at them all before taking a seat on the bench as usual – to watch and cheer.

After giving your sons their instructions, Gwayne gave them some space and joined your side as he sat next to you.

“What did my father want from you, darling?” He asked, worryingly.

“He wondered about my loyalty,” you scoffed and looked up at your husband’s face to fix a reckless auburn hair strand falling onto his face. “As if I didn’t give him four grandchildren to inherit his wealth and titles. As if I didn’t run Oldtown in his name for years. As if I didn’t love his son with every heartbeat of mine,” you finished quietly and a slight blush brightened your husband’s cheeks.

“Last night must have frightened him,” Gwayne explained. “You were rather furious with Prince Aegon.”

“Every parent would be,” you rolled your eyes. “Were you not furious, too?”

“I was but I did not show it,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Every person reacts differently,” you shrugged. “Either way, such conflicts always happen sooner or later between the family members. I shall not take them outside,” you assured Gwayne and took his hand to squeeze it. “I gave birth to four Hightowers. How could I play on any other team?” You asked, genuinely.

Gwayne squeezed your hand back and moved a little closer to you, as much as his armour allowed him. You both watched your sons train with loving smiles on your faces.

At one point, young Prince Aegon looked at you and smiled at you nervously. You smiled back and waved at him even, which caused his own smile to grow wider. Poor boy had no idea what responsibility was being plotted to be put onto his back.

MASTERLIST

[theemporium]

im not sure if we’re allowed to combine prompts, so if we’re not, then feel free to choose!

can i request a violet fluff 💜 with nicojack??

"Come back to bed."

"Please, never apologise for wanting to be loved."

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

49. “Come back to bed.”

.

It was late.

The game ended hours ago, a brutal loss to the Devils that stung for everyone—the players, the coaches, the fans. It was a game of stupid mistakes and missed opportunities and it laid heavy on everyone’s shoulders as the seats at the Prudential Center emptied after the final buzzer sounded through the arena. 

It was bad, but it wasn’t season-breaking. It was still in the early months of the season, they had time to recover from the loss and move up. And all things considered with how the last season went, things were looking bright for the Devils chances to clinch a playoff spot and have a solid foot through the door for the Stanley Cup.

But that didn’t stop Jack’s brain from spiralling the second he stepped off the ice after the heartbreaking loss. 

Everyone could see the way he closed off and it wasn’t unusual. They were competitive athletes, it was in their DNA to thrive and push and aim for the win. It was disappointing when they didn’t get it. It was normal for them to just have moments to themselves to come to terms with the game before leaving it in the past and moving on.

But Jack couldn’t seem to let go. 

It was borderline obsessive the way he was watching tapes from a game he played hours ago, watching the same clips over and over and over again like he could somehow rewrite the outcome. Even getting him to eat dinner was a struggle, the boy uninterested and untempted by the plate lying beside him. 

You thought maybe he needed to sleep it off, that maybe he would talk to you or Nico in the morning. 

Instead, you woke up at three in the morning to find his side of the bed empty and Nico just as confused as he tried to blink away the sleep from his eyes. 

“Where’s Jack?” Nico grumbled, biting back a yawn as he reached towards the empty spot in bed, the sheets now cold.

“I can take a guess,” you murmured, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and wincing slightly at the cool floorboards beneath your feet before you walked out towards the living room. 

It was unsurprising to find Jack sat on the couch, tablet in hand and eyes glued to the screen. His shoulders were tense, his posture was horrible and his lips looked red and raw from biting down on them so much. 

“Babe,” you called out in a soft voice, watching Jack jump out of his skin as he turned to find both of you standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, hey,” he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a little when he realised he had been caught. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

“Jack,” you scolded in a soft voice.

“Schat, this isn’t healthy,” Nico frowned as he took in the scene in front of him, brows furrowed and concern written across his face. “I know you’re upset about the game—”

“I lost us that game,” Jack whispered, his voice breaking. “Look at all these mistakes! You kept setting me up and I kept fumbling and—”

“Hey,” Nico shook his head, rounding the couch until he was kneeling in front of Jack. He took the younger boy’s face in his hands, his thumbs soothing over his cheeks. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s not one person’s fault. We are a team. We win together, we fail together. You know that.”

Jack swallowed harshly. “I know but—”

“No,” he frowned. “Together, Jack. You can’t keep kicking yourself about this. Not like this, okay?” 

He nodded softly. “Okay.” 

“Come back to bed,” Nico murmured as he stood up, pulling the boy up with him as they shuffled towards where you were standing.

“I’m a part of that together too, by the way,” you commented as Jack approached you, sinking into your embrace as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug.

“Of course, babe,” he rasped, letting out a sigh as he leaned his head on your shoulder. “M’taking middle spot, by the way.”

You snorted. “Fine. Just this once.”

.

[riansdiary]

Assume it as a fact + Do not accept waiting + Focus your awareness to what you want 🎀

Dearest Gentle Readers 💎

Rian, yours truly is back with a new epiphany for the law of assumption! If you were ever wondering what the hell I'm doing on my break, I'm just living my life and relaxing. Manifesting left and right. Also a lot of reflecting and thinking deeply about loa and how I can help myself and others to make it easier.

In fact, this just happened today. I thought of these today and I'm so glad I brainstormed about the loa to understand it more and make it easier for myself. It is hella easy, it's only us complicating it because it is truly that simple. I was thinking and finding a way to manifest easier in a relaxing way and to make my mindset better.

Let me break it down to you in three pieces. The things written in the title of this post are basically all I'm doing to use the law of assumption and it has never made sense like this ever before. It made it even easier for me! Let's go!

Oh and yes! I am a huge fan of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder Books and have finished reading the first two books in just four days! Can you believe that? I was hooked! I couldn't put my phone down! Yes, I read the e-book version. I also adore Emma Myers so much! She was the Pip Fitz-Amobi I imagined while I was reading! She's perfect for the role! I watched the first four episodes of the show today and I love how they did almost if not literally the exact same as the book! Anyway, let's get that out of the way now.

This all started this morning when I was eating a snack. The snack was a snack in my country and it's kind of hard to break. It's a big piece, I can't just shove it in my mouth like that. I was trying my best to break it but it just couldn't break. You know what I did? I relaxed and I did this in a second. I assumed that I was very strong and could break this snack easily. All I did was assume it's a fact and believed it. I had this silent confidence as I assumed that. I thought of this once - "I'm so strong I can break this so easily" and that thought came out naturally after I assumed that I'm strong and guess what? I was able to break the snack very easily and effortlessly. I broke that hard piece in half in a freaking second after I assumed and thought that. I then realized that this was the way I used to manifest when I first started learning about the law and I should continue it this way. Starting from that, I started assuming that my desires are a fact, fully believing they're here even without proof and persisting has been a breeze ever since that moment. Every time I manifested in this very simple way, things just materialized way faster so I decided that I will do it this way again which is the best way for me.

This is the meaning of assume:

Assume good things and assume your desires into being. Assume that your desires are facts now. Simply assume something and shift your mindset to the person who is it or has it. All I did was assume that it's a fact that I'm strong. I embodied the version of me who was always strong and can break that hard snack in two in one second.

I literally was trying so hard before and yet nothing happened but as soon as I assumed and shifted my mindset to the me who's strong then I was able to break it so easily.

Now on to the next point.

Don't accept waiting when you're manifesting.

I learned this one from Indigo Detry's video:

Everything I learned is in here and as soon as I implemented this, I never wavered even once. I fully accepted that I have my desires immediately. Do not accept waiting. Do not make manifesting a process because that just makes it longer when it shouldn't be. Decide that it's instant for you. I'm not waiting for my manifestations anymore, they're here now and I'm focusing on them instead of the old story. Because of that, I now feel fulfilled and consider it done.

Now, the last part.

Focus your awareness on what you want.

This is a little bit more non-duality but I feel like it's also true for manifesting. This was taught to me by my friend @starnightlover and it only sinked in today as I brainstormed about how I can stop looking for my desire in the 3d or how to stop focusing on the old story. I'm doing a combo of all three. It goes hand in hand.

I always say this when I'm answering asks about the 3d. What you focus on grows so don't pay attention to what you don't want. Awareness and Attention are our superpowers. Whatever you are aware of and what you focus on is what will manifest. I was thinking about how to stop looking for my desires in the 3d or how to stop thinking of the old story and this fixed these problems for me.

What you focus on manifests so how do you focus on what you want? I thought as I was doing something in the bathroom. I wanted to manifest having Dove Cameron's lips. Her lips are so gorgeous so I started manifesting that today. So I came up with a way to focus on what I want instead.

1. I made myself a vision board of my desires. The photos I used are in 1st person POV and I just included pictures of me having my desires and I made it the background of my phone, that way I will always see it everyday and it reminds me that I have it and it's already done.

2. I stopped expecting or accepting waiting when I'm manifesting. I decided that starting now, there's no waiting or process when I manifest. I immediately get it.

3. I assumed that my desires are facts now. I stopped feeding myself the old story. I stopped feeding the old story with any attention to let it die off. There's no waiting so that means it's already done. I did not care about what the 3d was showing me. I shifted my awareness from me not having Dove Cameron's lips to me actually having it already and I started to only pay attention to my desires. I also stopped wanting and desiring and instead assumed that my desires are facts and instantly here now. I shifted my mindset to be in my ideal reality. I embodied the version of me who had whatever she wanted just by assuming my desires are facts now, rejecting the waiting process, not forcing anything, focusing my awareness to what I want and using my vision board as the proof of my desires being here.

I also implemented my recent post about the devil's snare scene from Harry Potter and I'm always just relaxed now. Because why would I worry about my desires when I have them now? I also stopped forcing myself to feel things which made it be like act as if for me. It wasn't it.

All I do now is just assume, assume my desires are now facts, reject any waiting or process, change my thoughts and shift my awareness and feed my attention to the new story instead. If ever the old story bothers me which is super rare, I just relax, take a deep breath and either see my desire in my head or look at my vision board. I'm also embodying Hermione and using a sub for her so I'm getting the intelligence boost for sure! I'm embodying how Hermione would learn and apply the law of assumption and I've been seeing some benefits from acting like her!

This has been making it really easy for me and I know this will help a lot of people! I'm assuming so!

Assume your desires are now facts, dismiss and don't feed the old story any attention, reject waiting or anything implying a process, simply change your thoughts, focus your awareness on what you want (make yourself aware of what you want), relax and know it is done. Stop wanting and start relaxing and having! You would relax if you have it now.

I'll try and make an example post for this!

[nikkento-writes]

Bad Romance

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: Wild West au, no curses au, violence, implied sex work, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut - PIV sex, blow job, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, creampie

Summary: You’re the Vixen Viper, an outlaw on the run with an outstanding bounty. You find a temporary safe-haven at the Star Saloon, protecting the women who work there while they protect you from the authorities. One night, a bounty hunter by the name of Toji Fushiguro shows up, threatening to cause some trouble. Somehow, you find the perfect way to subdue him.

Author's Note: This is a repost from my old blog! I originally wrote this as a request for a milestone event I was doing and it's still one of my fave fics that I've written, so I wanted to share it on here. I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 to this, we'll see! I just love the idea of Toji in the Wild West, idk, I think it fits him very well. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Midnight at the Star Saloon is always lively with rambunctious activity. It’s the perfect time for stragglers moseying through town or the miscreant locals to stop by for a break, meaning booze, gambling, or sex. Usually all three in one night. You’ve been a regular here for almost three months now, befriending the women and men who work hard to keep the patrons satisfied. Whether it’s serving alcohol until they fall out of their seats, enabling poker addictions, or riding their cocks in one of the private rooms upstairs at a special rate, they do it all to make an honest living. Though on occasion, customers will cross the line.

And that’s where you come in.

It started two months ago, after you had frequented the saloon enough times to be considered a regular. It was around three in the morning when one of the barmaids approached you, asking you to follow her upstairs. She led you into the private room all the way down the hall, and inside was another worker, sitting at the foot of the bed, cheek swollen and a black eye all on the left side of her face. That’s all you needed to see to set you off. The perp had already left, but you knew who he was as soon as she described him. And, of course, like all assholes do, thinking they got away with it, he came back. When he did, it was you this time who took him upstairs to that same bedroom, dressed in one of the barmaid’s outfits. You, who flirted with him and stripped him naked on the bed, promising to give him exactly what he deserved. And finally, it was you who robbed him and held a sharp blade to his pathetic penis, threatening to slice it right off if he ever showed his ugly fucking face in this town again. You haven’t seen him since.

At that time, your friends at the Star Saloon already knew you were someone who could handle things. Maybe it was the way you dressed at first, often showing up in cowboy attire, ready to book it if the situation called for it. Or maybe it was because they recognized you from the wanted posters plastered in the next town over, your silly nickname the Vixen Viper in big bold print below an unflattering photo of you from the last time you landed in jail, right before you escaped. They never mentioned it; never reported you to the authorities. Instead, they welcomed you in with open arms. There’s a bounty on your head for the crimes you committed against sleazy men like that, but you hold no guilt for your actions. To you, and to all the women in the saloons you’ve frequented, it’s justice. They need someone like you to protect people like them. Because lord knows that no one else in this godforsaken world will.

You’ve lasted three months in this town without the authorities catching on to you yet. You look quite different from your poster when you’re done up in makeup and a frilly dress, dagger concealed in the garter wrapped around your thigh. And with the help of your friends, you’ve managed to hide in plain sight, posing as one of the barmaids while you patrol the late-night crowd for any possible threats. Violence against these women has significantly lessened since you’ve been around. The rumor amongst the patrons is that men who misbehave get their money taken and their dicks chopped off, which is pretty spot-on to the actual truth. So fortunately, for both the workers and the customers, there isn’t any trouble. 

Tonight is a little different.

You lean against the bar doing your usual inspection, checking for people who are causing a ruckus or getting rough with any of the ladies. You’re dressed similarly to them, though you never get requested to entertain in one of the private rooms above, considering you don’t go out of your way to flirt with any of the men. You lack the illustrious charm the others do; you’re only here for when things get ugly. It surprises you when a mysterious stranger on the other side of the room points to you directly, wiggling his finger to beckon you over. He smirks, the prominent scar on his lips curving with it. You grab your drink and walk over to him, curious to see what this is about, sensing that it can’t be anything good.

When you reach his table, you give him your most cordial smile. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He grins, waving to the seat across from him. “I was hoping you can join me for a little chat.” His tone is even, though there’s a hint of something sinister in there. Maybe it’s your imagination or better yet, your intuition. You’ll soon find out.

You drag the chair out, plopping into it, laying your hands flat on your lap, palm pressed to the knife hidden beneath your skirt. He scans you up and down before asking, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, you answer, giving him a fake one, of course. He nods, accepting it. “Toji Fushiguro. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out, which you take reluctantly, shaking it. His grip is firm, callouses rough against your own. “I saw you and knew I had to meet you.”

Your raise a brow at him. “Oh? What about me caught your eye?"

“Thought I recognized you from somewhere.” His gaze lingers on yours, expression unwavering.

Your heart stops momentarily, a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Not here, not now. You swallow thickly, feigning ignorance. “Really? From where?”

He slides you a rolled-up paper, nodding his head for you to open it. “Take a look.”

Trembling now, you obey, unraveling it slowly until you see the words WANTED: ALIVE and your face staring back at you. There’s no need to go any further. You fold it up immediately, heart racing, glancing at your surroundings hoping no one else is listening in on your conversation. As calmly as you can, you lean forward towards him, muttering, “So what, are you going to arrest me? Hog-tie me in front of all these people?”

He inches even closer, noses nearly touching now, his breath tickling you. “Now, I’m a gentleman. I like to know a woman first before I tie her up.”

You scoff. “So what, am I supposed to come quietly then?”

He glances at your mouth, then back to your eyes. “I’m willing to negotiate if you have something to offer.”

You clear your throat, intrigued by his response. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private,” you say, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up the stairs with you.

“Lead the way, Vixen.”

You lead him to the very end of the hallway, the furthest room away from the bar downstairs. There’s a fire escape just outside the window, your best chance to evade arrest. First, you’ll have to subdue him.

Inside, you lock the door shut, turning to face him. “Are you a police officer?”

He shakes his head. “Guess again,” he answers, opening his coat to display the gun and knife hanging on his belt.

“Bounty hunter,” you state, glaring at him.

“Yup. And you, my dear, have a very hefty bounty on your pretty little head.” He steps towards you, caging you between his arms, your back flat against the door. Although you remain untouched, his presence is suffocating.

“What do want?” you ask him, breathing in deeply through your nose.

“All the loot you robbed from those scumbags. Enough to exceed the bounty I’d get if I brought you back with me.”

You smirk. “Is that it?”

“And a deal,” he adds. “A partnership.”

You stare at him, confused. “What?”

He laughs, amused by your reaction. “I’ll admit, I’m a fan of your work. Drifting through town-to-town, robbing sleazy assholes. And you haven’t been caught until now. It’s impressive.”

You’re caught off guard by the praise, relaxing just the slightest bit. “So, what do you propose?”

He lets his arms down, placing his hands in his pockets while he explains himself. “There are several bounties for men exactly like the ones you hate. If you promise to help me get them, I won’t take you in tonight. I’ll even give you some of the money. If you’re good.”

“And why can’t you do this yourself?”

“It’s easier to get a guy when his guard’s down. If there’s a pretty little thing like you seducing him, catching him will be easy as pie.”

You stare at him, contemplating his proposition. It’s an easy decision for you to make. It’s either this, or jail. “Fine. You have a deal.”

He offers his hand to you. “Put it there, partner.” His tone is soft, almost sincere. You can’t help thinking that if this were any other scenario, you’d find him attractive. Hell, even in this one, you’re drawn to him. You take his hand, shaking it. He tugs you in closer, voice low and seductive. “I think we should celebrate this new friendship. What do you say?”

You smile at him, what feels like the first genuine one of the night. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you initially thought. When you close the distance, his mouth is on yours quickly, lips smacking, wet and sloppy. He slides out of his jacket, letting it thud loudly on the hardwood with his weapons weighing it down. The shirt he wears is tight on his body, clinging to him, emphasizing his muscular physique. You can’t remember the last time you were intimate with a man without the intention to backstab him. In fact, it’s been a while since you were intimate at all. With him guiding you, however, you match his movements naturally, sliding your hands up his torso, pawing at his chest as his hands squeeze your hips, pulling you towards the bed.

He moans, slipping his wide tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss and exerting his dominance. “Can’t wait to see what the Vixen Viper can really do,” he huffs, hoisting the hem of your dress, bunching it in his fist. His fingers trail the inside of your thighs, stopping at the garter, feeling the handle of the knife strapped to you. He clicks his tongue, mouth hovering your ear, hooking his finger to snap the elastic against your skin. “You really are dangerous.”

You let out a whimper, your pussy throbbing with arousal. He grabs the blade by the handle, whipping it out from its holster, tossing it to the other side of the room away from you. You chuckle, lifting your arms up so he can strip you properly. “Are you scared of me?”

He removes your corset swiftly, squeezing your bare breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples. “I don’t want to get stabbed in case you change your mind.”

You shove him onto the bed, where he lies flat on his back, watching you straddle his lap, naked. “If I do that, then I wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

He laughs loudly, biting his lip. “Oh? You’re the one who’s gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I reckon,” you reply, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. He continues to watch you intently, groaning when you shimmy his pants off to release his cock. It flops against his abdomen, even bigger than you imagined, all veiny and girthy. You salivate at the sight of it, opening your mouth for a taste.

“Fuck,” he curses, head relaxing into mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as you sink down on him, swallowing him up until the tip hits the back of your throat. You bob up and down on his shaft, gripping the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. “You suck cock like a fucking whore. Did your friends out there teach you that?”

You grasp his balls in your hand, squeezing them tight, causing him to shudder. Shaking your head, you say, “I learned this from experience.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Come here. Put this pussy on my face. Bet I can teach you something you haven’t learned yet.”

You release him, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is pressed to his lips. His tongue laps at your arousal, swirling around your aching clit. You grip the top of the headboard, grinding on him. “Oh fuck!”

His hands surround your ass, squeezing at your soft cheeks, fingers digging into your flesh. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He nods beneath you, encouraging you. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take it like a good slut.”

He takes you into his mouth, slurping at your clit until your gushing all over his face, your orgasm shiny on his lips and chin. His eyes are wild with excitement, peering up at you between your legs. Kissing the plush of your thighs, he says, “Well, go on then, Vixen. Fuck me.”

Soon, you’re sinking down onto his fat cock, pussy already soaking wet with slick and spit. He fills you up to the brim, taking a few seconds to adjust to size comfortable. When you’re ready, you start to bounce on his lap, his cock thrusting in and out of you smoothly. He hits your sweet spot over and over, stimulating you into another messy orgasm after just a few solid strokes. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Look at you. So fucked out for me,” he growls, planting his feet on the bed, taking control. He grabs onto your hips firmly, pounding up into you, watching your entire body convulse with each delicious thrust. “You talk a big game, but you like being manhandled like this. You’re just a slutty little hole waiting to be ruined. Waiting for the right man to use you.” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it with deep strokes. “Seems like you finally met the perfect partner.”

“Fuck, Toji!” you cry out, unraveling once again.

He increases his pace, the bed creaking noisily below you. “That’s it, baby. Come with me. Gonna breed this perfect pussy. Gonna fill you up so fucking good.” He pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you fiercely as he pumps his load inside you.

You both lay still for a moment, catching your breaths, Toji peppering delicate smooches along your neck. You’re surprised at how gentle he’s being, considering his brutish behavior from earlier. When enough silence passes, you look at him, grinning. “What a way to celebrate, am I right? Partner?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

After you clean yourselves up as best as possible, you snuggle together under the covers, him spooning you from behind. “’Night, Toji Fushiguro.”

He nuzzles his nose to the nape of your neck, whispering, “What’s your real name?”

You smile, grazing your lips on his knuckles, actually giving it to him.

~~~

Toji Fushiguro, the most sought-after bounty hunter in all the west, wakes up the morning feeling fantastic.

He glances to his side, hoping to see his lovely new partner still peacefully asleep beside him. To his surprise, no one is there. He inspects the room, searching for clues on where she ran off to and notices nothing.

And that’s when it hits him. There’s nothing in the room.

All his clothes are gone, his weapons, the wallet full of cash buried in his pockets, even the very blanket they fell asleep under. He’s as naked as the day he was born, confused and beguiled until he finally realizes it. He’s been robbed. And it was the Vixen Viper who robbed him.

The only thing he finds is her wanted poster, folded up on the bedside table, a small note scribbled to the back of it:

Toji - Thanks for the fun night, but I don’t do partners. Maybe the next time you catch me, I’ll reconsider.  

He laughs, unable to contain his smile as he reads her real name signed at the end of it.

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Four

Your skills are tested more than ever, and Joel finds a way to thank you for everything you do for Jackson.

Words: 6.2k

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

Warnings: depictions of childbirth, here there be smut (this chapter is a lot), fingering, praise, Joel is grumpy but horny, Joel has unique ways of showing his appreciation, we continue to stan an apocalyptic grump

Minors DNI

Later, you would be grateful that your makeshift massage table had the good grace to collapse when it was just you on it. You’d been leaning over it, all your weight on one corner trying to set the towels right, when you heard the telltale creak of wood. You yelped as it gave way, landing heavily on your knee and for a moment the pain took your breath away, as you suddenly found yourself crouched amongst the detritus of your usefulness in Jackson. For a long moment you were stunned, your brain trying to catch up, before you felt the tears pricking at the back of your eyes, your jaw aching where your mouth turned down. Your first real thought was that Joel had been right. Your second was that you had no idea how to tally this loss.

You felt helpless, made small and childlike by the shock and the pain, and you wondered if it would mean you’d have to leave Jackson. The town council had been dubious at best but you’d made it in based on Maria’s championing of the cause, and you couldn’t bring yourself now to consider how you would need to survive on your own in the cold, in the dark, realising that the last three months of warmth and safety had made you soft, had dulled your senses. You should never have leant on the table the way you had been, you should never have been so careless. You looked down at your shaking hands.

You saw in them your mother. Your memories of her skin, papery thin across her palms, across her knuckles. How easily she would bruise as her treatment went on, how you went from being able to push down into the sinew to dusting light across the surface, how towards the end all she could tolerate was your fingertips, dragging gentle so as not to tear.

You wiped the tears off your face with your mother’s hands, your own only capable of destruction.

—

The expedition to recover the raider’s stash started the following morning, and you along with most of Jackson went to the gate to see them off. Marla was smiling, riding high on her chestnut horse, her eyes bright and wild looking over the crowd. Your eyes, too, scanned over the faces, your tummy somersaulting with the prospect of seeing Joel. You had no idea if you wanted him to be there, if you were worried that he would speak to you or more worried that he wouldn’t, if he would look through you, keep his eyes empty of any recognition, or if he would stare you down, that same look of naked wanting written clear on his face. You felt your cheeks turn traitorously red at the thought of it, a bolt of something sharp and hot between your thighs. In the time since Maria’s kitchen you had wondered if you had misinterpreted, your mind playing the moment back but this time Joel is disgusted, this time Joel is confused, this time it’s Joel who legs it down the hallway and out into the freezing cold. You found yourself trying to cling to the real memory, trying to hold it safe and fragile in your palm, scared of it and scared of cracking it, brittle little thing that it was.

There were no speeches when Marla and the six departed Jackson. Even Jacob, who you expected to grandstand, was quiet. You spotted Ray on the other side of the street, his eyes never leaving Marla’s back until the gate closes behind her. He looked like he wanted to cry, and you took a step towards him before you saw Simon appear, gripping him by the shoulder and steering him towards the mess hall. You decided not to try and catch up to them, your knee aching from standing so long in the cold.

As you swung around to head home a pair of eyes caught yours, and it took you a moment to recognise that Joel’s daughter was watching you, likely had been quietly regarding you, from her position leant up against a fence post. For a moment you just stared at her, her gaze unwavering and her face unreadable. She looked so small, but so wired, her arms held tight against her body. You recognised it, the perennial fight or flight, and you felt a pang of something sad and hopeful, a flip of the gut. You smiled warmly at her, nodding your head. She hesitated, but nodded back, and disappeared into the dissipating crowd. She may not be Joel’s actual daughter, you thought, but they are so very much the same.

You were halfway home before you heard your name being called, a frantic edge to it that made the hair on your arms stand up. You turned, searching for Tommy and finding him barrelling towards you, stopping only when he can hold onto your arms to steady himself, nearly toppling the both of you in the process.

‘God, what is it?’ you asked, unable to get the fear out of your voice and thinking immediately that something was wrong with Joel, the sinking feeling in your gut dislodging bile snd sending it rushing into your throat.

‘Maria,’ Tommy said, and it’s no better, ‘she’s started…it’s happening and,’ he sucked in another gulp of clean mountain air, coughed for a second like he was choking on it, ‘she’s asked for you,’ he finished.

‘For me?’ You repeated, and now you really heard the panic. Tommy swallowed hard and nodded at you, his eyes big and brown and terrified, and you found yourself moving, heading straight to their house without even considering if this was the sane thing to do. You stopped, suddenly, and Tommy nearly slammed into your back. ‘Wait, did you call on the doctor as well?’ you ask, and Tommy sighed.

‘She doesn’t trust ‘em,’ he said, as if this was in any way a reasonable explanation. ‘She made me promise not to call on him unless it was really needed.’

‘Tommy, she’s having a baby. It’s needed,’ you said, and you watched his face fall. You knew in that moment he would do anything for her, that this was testing him more than anything ever had, and you remembered that this was what family was: throwing yourself under the bus just to properly entertain their nonsense.

‘I’m coming, of course,’ you said, and you saw his shoulders relax. ‘When I say so, you go get the doc. I can be the bad guy,’ you finished. Tommy nodded his head so hard he nearly shook his cowboy hat off, and you were off then, determined to be the sensible one, an Apocalyptic Doula with nothing but a twenty-year-old knowledge of human anatomy and a shattered massage table.

You had only just stepped onto the front porch when you heard the low moan, and you felt your stomach twist. Turning back to look at Tommy you saw the way his mouth was set firm and grim in a line, the way he searched your eyes for some kind of reassurance. You had attended a birth once, in the QZ, and it had happened in the bathtub out of fear that FEDRA would cart the woman off and cut her open rather than waste ether on her, waste the time of properly welcoming a new life into a dead world. That baby had arrived squawking and angry, an entirely appropriate response, and you had stood behind the midwife holding the towels and trying not to look at the remnants of what had brought him here. This was the limit of your qualifications, and looking back at Tommy’s pinched face you realised it would have to be enough.

You forged on, reaching down into your gut and pulling some strength from somewhere around your tailbone. In the entry way your eyes adjusted to the dark.

‘She wanted the curtains drawn, wanted the dark’ Tommy explained behind you, and you thought immediately of an injured cat seeking out the damp privacy under a house to tend to its wounds, to face the horror of its own mortality away from prying eyes.

‘That’s good, it’s calming,’ you said, and you saw how soundly this reassured him, two breaths from full blown panic as he was. ‘Do you have towels?’ you asked, and he scurried off to get them, grateful to have something to do.

In the living room Maria was on her knees, leaning over the arm of the sofa and resting her head in the bend of her arms. For a second you thought she was praying, but you heard her deep breaths in and out through her nose and you realised she had retreated somewhere inside herself, the pain sending her reeling back from her own skin. You got in behind her, hissing as you leant on your bad knee, and pushed your hands into the small of her back, over her hips, supporting her pelvis as it worked to expand enough to let the baby through. She sighed, relaxing into you, so that you held some of her weight in your arms.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I knew you could help.’ You felt a twang of pride inside your ribcage, and you hummed your acknowledgment to her.

‘How long?’ you asked, and she sighed.

‘Feels like months,’ she said, turning slightly towards you. You took the opportunity to reposition her, sliding your arm under her belly to round her spine out, and she groaned in relief. ‘Had been feeling something for the last day or so, nothing regular, I thought false labour maybe?’ She stopped speaking for a second and you watched as her belly seized, felt the ripple of muscle under your palm. You went back to rubbing hard circles into her hips as she breathed through it, finding that you matched her, that you sucked the air in as she did, shared it between you, caught yourself in the moment of relief when she slumped back against you. ‘Lost my plug around dinner last night, though, waters this morning.’

You did some rough calculations in your head, considering this and by the way she was still able to speak, you estimated she wasn’t even halfway there. You steeled yourself for hours and hours of this, felt a sliver of panic slice at your windpipe.

‘Why haven’t you called the doctor?’ you asked, and she huffed out a tired, joyless laugh.

‘You’ve seen him,’ she said, and you had - when you had quarantined on arrival, and as soon as you’d seen him you’d wanted to make a Dougie Houser joke, but you had realised he would be even too young to know the reference. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he tried to check your pulse in your elbow.

‘I’ve done this once before,’ she said, and you fought hard against the instinct to ask for more, to mask your surprise. She was quiet for a moment, gently circling her hips in the air. ‘I know I’m asking a lot,’ she said, and you heard the doubt in her voice.

‘Not too much,’ you reassured her, ‘but I reserve the right to call an actual professional if required.’

Maria snorted through her nose. ‘Let me know if you find one,’ she said.

—

Maria laboured into the afternoon, sometimes kneeling, sometimes pacing, sometimes lying on the sofa with a pillow between her knees. You kept her cool, collecting her sweat in a damp towel and handing it off to Tommy to rinse, the stressed soon-to-be-father hovering always in your peripheral view. Occasionally he would ask you how things were progressing, as if you had a magic wand or an invisible ultrasound machine, but Maria eventually got tired of him asking and snapped at him to shut it, that no one had any idea. It wasn’t the reassurance he was looking for.

As the sun set Maria started to get more agitated, finding it hard to get comfortable in any position. Unable to carry her full weight, you had Tommy come over and hold her up while she groaned and swore into his neck. You could see that she was tiring, made worse by the fact that there was no clarity on how much longer it would be, how much longer it should be, that the three of you were holding your breath trying to figure out if danger was lurking around the corner, like it so often was.

She had taken to letting out her breath in long moans, the sound almost mournful, as you and Tommy took turns to sway with her, as you held her hand, as you patted her hair back away from her face. Occasionally you would look into her eyes and see that she was barely there, that the pain had now stolen her away completely, that she had left her body to do its work without her tagging along for the ride. Only occasionally would she speak to refuse medical attention, and then not again for minutes at a time.

It was around this point, when the moaning became constant, when it appeared that there was no Maria in the room, that Tommy swore under his breath, gathered his coat and stomped out the front door. Maria didn’t look up from her position slumped over the back of the couch and you didn’t mention it to her, hoping that Dougie was ready to earn his keep.

Ten minutes later you heard the door open again and two sets of footsteps, calling over your shoulder that you hoped he’d brought the good drugs. You heard a laugh, a huff of a thing that froze you on the spot.

‘If I had those ya reckon I’d be here?’ Joel asked, and you wondered if this would be the thing that finally sent you careening over the edge: opening a pregnant woman’s hips with your hands while the man you had a raging crush on sassed you from the doorway.

‘Tommy?’ you asked him as he appeared behind his big brother, eyes anxiously roaming over Maria.

‘Joel has seen this before,’ he said, not looking at you so not seeing the look of surprise on your face that you quickly wiped from your features, your eyes flitting to Joel to see if he he’d caught you and knowing, in your guts just knowing, that he had. ‘I figured he could tell us if it’s going ok.’

You couldn’t help a little ripple of unearned indignation at this, and you informed them that you had it under control. It was difficult for them to hear, though, as this was also the moment Maria chose to bend further at the hips, brace her knees, and bellow from deep within her soul.

Joel regarded this silently for a moment. Tension hung in the air while you all waited for his assessment. ‘Totally normal,’ he said, as if Maria hadn’t just unleashed a screaming banshee from the fifth circle of hell. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘No, stay,’ Tommy said, too quickly, stepping towards Maria and rubbing sweet but ineffectual circles on her shoulder. ‘I mean, you can…if things get…’

‘You can stand at the business end with a catcher’s mitt,’ Maria said, from somewhere under her own elbow, shrugging off Tommy. You grinned, falling just a little bit more in love with her by the minute.

‘Tried a bath?’ Joel asked, and you were about to offer to start drawing it when Maria shook her head.

‘Too narrow,’ she said, sounding breathless but resolute. ‘Need her with me and we wont both fit.’ You beamed at this, unable to stop yourself turning to Joel feeling just a little smug. You’d been at this for hours and he thought he could come in and fix it in five minutes? He cocked a knee and put a hand on his hip, and you could see that in any other situation he would have rolled his eyes. As you looked away you just caught his little grin in your peripheral vision.

He turned to Tommy. ‘I really don’t know what I can do here,’ he said, but Tommy stopped him.

‘Just stay,’ he said, and you realised that he was appealing to his older brother to stick by him, that he was telling Joel that he felt safer with him there. You realised that Joel, as gruff and stoic as he was, was comfort for Tommy. You realised that you agreed.

—

You tried to get Maria to eat some dry bread around dinnertime but she refused it, tired and sweaty and back deep inside herself. Tommy brought out ice chips from the freezer for her to chew on and you avoided looking at them for too long, the memory of the cold across your teeth as you held Joel by the wrist too strong, and too ill-fitting for what lay ahead of you. You studiously avoided Joel’s eyes, only glancing up long enough to see that he, too, was avoiding what Tommy held in his hand.

Around 10 pm Maria started wanting to retreat up to the bedroom, and you followed her up the stairs slowly to make sure her legs wouldn’t give out. It took three contractions to get up there, her face screwed up tight against the bannister, bracing herself against the wall, and when she reached the landing she wailed that she couldn’t do it anymore, that she wasn’t strong enough. At the bottom of the stairs you heard Joel inform Tommy that she was close, that it was time for the doctor. He slipped away into the night to bring him, while Tommy helped hoist Maria onto the mattress. Within moments she was up again, on all fours and howling, as you encouraged her to swing low into her hips, to drop down and let her pelvis open. She told you, rightfully, to fuck off.

‘Do you need to push?’ you asked her, thinking back to the delivery you saw in the bath in the QZ, racking your brains trying to remember how the midwife handled it.

‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ Maria cried, and you reached out to wrap your hand around your wrist.

‘I think that means no,’ you said, trying to scrounge together some confidence to push into your voice. ‘I reckon you’ll know when you feel it.’ Maria nodded at you, her head bent back to look at you through her armpit, and you gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘You can do this,’ you said, and you knew, looking at her on all fours on her mattress, hair wild and matted and eyes now shut tight against the pain, primal and urgent and so incredibly strong, that it was true.

You felt a hand on your arm gently pulling you away, and you stood to see Dougie Howser at the end of the bed. You repositioned yourself so that Maria could see you, sat at the headboard and let her rest her head on your shoulder. You looked over to see Tommy getting down on his knees to lean beside her, Joel in the doorway watching on. His eyes met yours and for a moment the world was silent. An understanding seemed to pass between you, that what you were witnessing was sacred and precious, but that it belonged to the people in front of you, that it was not for either of you to share.

‘Ok,’ Dougie said, and you were surprised his voice didn’t break as he spoke. ‘We’re close but we’re not quite there yet.’ It bothered you that he said ‘we’ as if he was also writhing on the bed howling in agony, but the one functioning synapse you had left advised you now was not the time to point this out.

Maria groaned when she heard this, turning her head to Tommy and panting, as he rested his forehead on hers. You were close enough that you could hear her urgent whisper to him that she couldn’t do it, that it was going to split her open, and the way that he soothed her, how he held the back of her head and whispered words of love and courage, how he knew she was hurting but that she could do it, how he loved her, more than anything, but how much in awe of her he was that she was going to make him a dad. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, swallowing sour across your throat, the intimacy of the moment so breathtaking that you wanted to turn away from it, even as it played out almost entirely in your lap. You looked over Tommy’s back to Joel, saw that he had heard it too, that he had witnessed this moment, saw the way he stood steadfast in the face of such naked love. Saw that he was holding your gaze, letting you borrow some of his strength to carry you through it, to be able to resist the instinct to shy away.

‘Oh!’ Maria suddenly exclaimed, her eyes wide as she snapped her head up to look at you. ‘I have to push!’ You watched as Dougie ducked down behind her again, busied himself underneath her, before returning to the surface and nodding to Tommy that it was time. Your remaining synapse again advised you not to point out that he had just said she wasn’t there yet, then promptly joined all your other brain cells in death.

‘Ok baby,’ Tommy said, and Maria reared up then, swinging her legs down so that her knees were back on the floor, her elbows digging into the mattress. You reached out and held her hand.

‘Can she do it like this?’ Tommy asked and you answered for Dougie, knowing the answer almost innately, not wanting him to try and put her on her back.

‘Let gravity help,’ you said. ‘Let her do it how her instincts tell her to.’

In the end, Joel didn’t need a catcher’s mitt. Maria and Tommy’s baby boy slid into his father’s hands and onto his chest, the younger Miller gasping with awe and love while the very youngest Miller gave his dad a piece of his mind. The shrill cries were somehow the sweetest thing you had heard, somehow a symphony of life and resistance, and you found yourself surging with hope at the sight of him, wiggly and squirming and covered in goo. Joel appeared with the towels and Tommy wrapped him up, while you helped Maria back onto the bed and into a comfortable position. You backed away then, over to the doorframe where Joel had stood vigil for so long, letting the new parents luxuriate in their first moments with their creation. After a few moments Joel came and stood by your side and you almost let yourself reach out, take his hand in yours, so awed were you by the events of the last twelve hours.

—

Joel offered to walk you home and you let him, the adrenaline retreating to leave just plain exhaustion in its wake. You had been wired right up until you pulled your coat on, the warmth of it reminding your tired bones of the need for rest.

‘Oh my god,’ you said, as Joel pulled Maria’s door shut behind you and ushered you down the front steps. He smiled at your tired excitement.

‘Somethin’, right?’ he asked, and you just nodded, didn’t have the words, couldn’t find them even as you jumbled through your brain.

‘She was amazing,’ you replied, your breath fanning out in front of you in the midnight chill.

‘She had a good team,’ he replied, and you grinned back at him.

The walk back to your house was only a few minutes, but with each step the exhaustion and the cold got in under your clothes and held you hard and bony by the knee. You’d managed to ignore the pain of it when Maria needed you, but now the ache had settled in. You started to limp.

‘What’s that about?’ Joel asked you, nodding towards your feet.

‘Oh I hurt my knee, you were right, the massage table did come down.’ You were focussed on your feet in front of you, trying hard to slide on the ice, so you yelped a little in surprise when Joel grabbed your arm snd stopped you.

‘You hurt?’ he asked, and in his eyes you saw genuine worry. He faltered, collecting himself. ‘Was anyone hurt?’ he tried again.

‘No it was just me,’ you said, and you turned away from him to keep walking, hearing his footsteps quicken to catch up with you. Your eyes were stinging from the cold and the weight of the day. ‘I was, am, so grateful to Tommy for finding it for me but the table was huge, I had to climb onto it to get the towels right each time, and it was hard to get into a good position sometimes so I had to kind of lean over to get at someone’s shoulders…’ you pantomimed this in thin air, raising one leg up to demonstrate how you would need to contort yourself, and nearly slipped. Joel grabbed you by the armpit to steady you, grunting as you leant on him. ‘Sorry,’ you said, wondering if the fatigue had made you delirious. ‘Slippery,’ you helpfully clarified, as Joel nodded once at you but didn’t let you go.

You expected him to drop you at your front door, but he followed you onto the porch and down your corridor. It felt strange, having just witnessed the miracle of life, to throw him out straight after, so you didn’t, listening to him shuck off his jacket and hang it by the door. He stopped at the doorway of your treatment room, regarding the mess of splintered wood on the floor.

‘Yeah, I know. I’ll clean it up, it’s just really heavy,’ you said and you weren’t sure if you meant the weight of the wood, exactly. You sighed, heading into the kitchen and then stopping when you remembered what tends to happen when you and Joel sit down at a table, and doubled back to flop down on your sofa. You lifted your knee and started rubbing at it over your jeans. You heard the floorboards creaking under Joel’s feet as he continued to inspect the damage in your treatment room.

‘You want some tea?’ you called our to him after a while. He appeared over your shoulder, grinning when he saw you slumped into the cushions.

‘Reckon if I did I’d have to make it myself,’ he said, and you closed your eyes snd hummed your agreement. Instead, he came and sat down next to you, his weight nearly causing the rusted springs to collapse you into him. You watched his eyes roam your meagre belongings.

‘Wood was rotting through at the top of the legs,’ he said after a while. You rubbed absently at your knee and nodded. ‘Tommy wouldn’t have checked, he ain’t careful. Back on the old job sites I spent half my time checking his work, correctin’ his mistakes before the boss got onto em.’

‘He’s lucky to have you,’ you said, honestly. He looked over at you, and you thought you saw the faintest hint of pink under his patchy beard. You wanted to pull him to you and nip on the skin. You swallowed.

‘That botherin’ ya?’ he asked, and you panicked for a second that he knew what you’d just been imagining, before you realised he meant your knee. You nodded, and he grunted in acknowledgement.

‘Show me what to do,’ he said, and your breath caught in your throat.

‘What?’ you asked, frozen in place next to him. He was avoiding your gaze, but he slipped an arm behind you and pulled you over to the coffee table, so that you sat facing him, squarely between his knees. He put his hands on your shin, and you just managed to hold in a gasp.

‘Show me,’ he said, nodding down to his hands.

Your mouth was bone dry, your throat threatening to collapse in on itself. His hands were so warm, scorching through your jeans. ‘Umm…’ you started, taking a second to catch your breath. He waited patiently for you to continue, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on the inside of your knee. ‘Well, I landed right on it so you don’t want to really massage the knee cap,’ you started, casting your eyes down to your leg where it felt almost safe. ‘It’s better to try and move some of the fluid, support the tendons around it because they got a bit of a sudden stretch as well.’

He made a sound in his throat to indicate he was listening, moving his hands to brace either side of your knee.

‘It’s really about gripping around the back of the leg while you kind of make little circles with your thumbs,’ you said, demonstrating with your own hands in front of your face. ‘Sometimes I imagine it’s like I’m smearing toast on butter,’ you went on, and he huffed out a quiet laugh.

‘You butter your toast with your thumbs?’ he asked, gently ribbing you again.

‘And what if I do?’ you shot back, pretending to be offended. He smiled, returning to his work.

‘This good?’ he asked, and you hummed. ‘What about here?’ he asked, moving his hands above your knee and holding firm. He let out a shaky breath and you watched his face as he kept his eyes trained on his hands. The heat from them was scorching, and you felt sweat break out on the back of your neck. ‘Can I do anything here?’

You wanted to laugh, a giggle forming in your chest and threatening to pop out into the air between you. You wanted to tell him he could do anything anywhere, but you gripped hard on the edge of the coffee table and steeled yourself.

‘Same thing but just rather than circles try and kind of push down towards the knee.’ His grip was firm, his hands so strong. You held your jaw shut tight, not sure whether you wanted to laugh or scream, the wings brushing so hard against the inside of your ribcage now you wouldn’t have been surprised if the feather started to strip away, if you opened your mouth and coughed them up onto the rug.

‘I gotta tell ya, I thought you were lyin’ about going to school for this,’ he confessed, and your attention snapped back to the man in front of you. ‘You must have been young on outbreak day,’ he said, and you nodded. ‘But I saw how you were with Maria tonight I…I knew it then. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.’

‘It’s ok,’ you said, your voice quiet. ‘I was young, but my mum…when I was 15 she got…and she needed so much medical help, one of the things that they said would help with the chemo was…so I went to school for it on the weekends and…I helped her.’ You were aware you had yet to finish a full sentence, but your poor brain was scrambling to understand what was happening, had been scrambling all day. You saw again your mother and father standing at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes, your mother’s favourite knitted beanie covering her head. Honey I’m going to Jackson. See if I care.

You came back into the room, your mind drifting back to the man in front of you, who was watching you openly now, his hands still on your knee.

‘So beautiful,’ he said, almost to himself. You felt heat bloom across your chest. ‘Doin’ so much for so many people. Will you let me do something for you?’

Your vision blurred, your eyes watery, and you nodded, suddenly shy. He stood and tugged you up into standing, coming forward to support your weight, his lower hand on your back and your nose buried in his shoulder. You felt him grip the button of your jeans, popping it open with one hand.

‘Take these off baby, so I can take care of you,’ he said and your fingers moved of their own accord, pushing the denim off your legs and down to your feet, where he helped you step out of them. He sat you back down on the coffee table, getting onto the floor in front of you, inspecting your now naked knee as he held it in his hands. His bare skin on your bare skin, his pulse against yours.

He clicked his tongue at the sight of the purple and yellow bruise blooming across it. ‘Poor little thing,’ he cooed, bending down to place a feather light kiss on it, his hand gripping the back of it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thigh. You broke out in shivers, temporarily unable to speak, letting out a breathy whimper when he moved his hand up to pull you towards him, the edge of the table digging into your bottom. ‘I know, baby,’ he hummed, his voice gravelly and dipped in sin. Your cunt throbbed in time to your thundering pulse, the heat between your legs unbearable, making you want to squirm, but he held you fast.

‘Can I do anything here?’ he asked, moving his hand up, his other mirroring his actions on your other thigh, his fingers close enough to brush against your panties but he stayed achingly far from your centre. He pulled your thighs apart, making room for himself as he shuffled forward. You shook your head, willing him closer, higher and further, inside. ‘No?’ he asked, pretending not to understand, and you nearly cried out. The ache was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the heat and the pulse of it stopping you from forming any kind of cogent thought.

He moved his hands to bracket your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on the crest of the bone, and you keened, staring imploringly into his sparkling brown eyes. If he was going to continue to torture you, you were not going to stand for it, the moment you regained your ability to move.

‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he said, but the bastard didn’t mean it. ‘You’re so good to us, so good to this town. I won’t tease ya.’

And he didn’t, then, slipping his hands under your underwear and running his fingers up against your dripping seam. You gasped, rocking your hips into his hand, as he circled your clit with one hand and pushed two strong, thick fingers into your cunt. He watched your face as you screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure almost painful in its entirety, sending sparks into your fingertips and down to the tip of your tongue. You heard the hoarseness of your voice as you cried out into the quiet of your living room, your hands flying to grip Joel’s flannel shirt.

‘Joel!’ you gasped, genuinely surprised by the way he had set your entire nervous system ablaze.

‘Sssh,’ he said, ‘I know baby, I know.’ He manoeuvred his hands inside your underwear, stretching the stitching almost to breaking point, and you didn’t fucking care if he destroyed every piece of clothing you owned, would ever own.

‘Take them off, take them,’ you muttered, pulling at them to get free, suddenly feeling the cotton too tight across your hips. He gripped them, stripped you of them in one swoop, barely missing a beat as he pumped in and out of you.

‘So good to me, so good to us,’ he muttered, his eyes watching the contortions of your face as he systematically took you apart. ‘Slipping that ice into that mouth,’ he added, and you would have been shy about it except that you were currently spread open on yet another table, every breath pushing you closer to toppling over the edge.

You felt your cunt gripping, your weight now bearing down on his hand, as you reached forward and grabbed him by the wrist, pushing him further into you, to graze against the spongey spot you could never reach yourself.

‘Oh, fuck, baby,’ he said, as you moaned high and tight, ‘show me how you like it, show me how to help you.’

‘There, there,’ you whimpered, the weight in your pelvis heavy now, the heat expanding out into your limbs, the speed of it breathtaking, as if all your life you had been waiting for this one man to touch you. ‘Please,’ you added, a gasping benediction to nothing in particular.

When you came, hips circling Joel’s pumping hand, your own grasped in his shirt, head thrown back to the ceiling and eyes shut tight, you forgot for a moment. Forgot to tally your losses, to keep the running sheet in your head of grief and of fury. Forgot the world had ended, taking with it first your family, then your home, and then your self. Forgot for a moment the dying light over the mountains surrounding Jackson, the cold and the bite of winter nipping fast into your bones. For a moment you floated, anchored as you were to the world by Joel’s touch, his breath hot on your neck as he repeated and repeated and repeated your name.

Taglist: let me know if you want me to add you!

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

[fandomfix13]

Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+

* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW

* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME

* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings

* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are

* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue

*anything in italics is your inner monologue

Word count: 4K

WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex,  oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone

The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.

 I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.         

After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment. 

As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.

“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.

“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”

“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.

“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.

“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.

“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.” 

“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.

“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful. 

“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.

“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.” 

“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN  feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice. 

“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening. 

I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately. 

“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!

“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh  of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone. 

“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.

“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now? 

Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!” 

“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”

“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he  brings up Rafe having a girl over.

“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.

“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”

Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?

I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here. 

“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”

I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs. 

“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer. 

“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty. 

“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.

“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-” 

“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it. 

I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension. 

“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.

“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.

“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door. 

“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.

“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.

“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second. 

“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.

He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.

“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more. 

“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.

“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.

“You know I do” Smartass.

“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing. 

“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.

“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me. 

“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss. 

“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.

“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again. 

“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt. 

“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and  his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.

“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time. 

“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair. 

I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.

“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening. 

Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.

“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod. 

“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.

“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again. 

“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words” 

“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.

“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.

“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.

“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.

“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me 

“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone. 

** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️

[kkencess]

AKAZA, feenin.

although it might be obvious, there’s one unspoken rule in a relationship. never admit you find another man attractive around your short-tempered husband.

𖤐 info ─── oneshot written by yours truly… i got this idea out of nowhere, and had to write it all before the dialogue disappeared from my head, lol! it was like three in the morning, but i somehow finished this. as an eighteen year old who just turned eighteen, i recommend reading if you’re sixteen, and up! if you aren’t, don’t mention it please!

𖤐 warnings ─── lowercase intended, female! reader, human! akaza, akaza is your fiancé, mild age gap, explicit content, dirty talk, rough sex [punishment sex?], crying, a lil praising, the one time akaza doesn’t respect women, muahaha! just kidding.

most people shamed others for taking on the role of the housewife, but at least for you; it was easy. in a large mansion like the one you lived in, it was only natural others would assume you had it hard. but in all honesty, you didn't. you didn't have any kids at the moment; so that alone was a bonus. cooking was a breeze since you enjoyed it so much, and cleaning wasn't bad since it hardly ever got untidy.

you lay soundlessly in bed, your eyes glued on the phone screen that rested in your hands. a housewife, and a senior in college. of course, all eyes were on you at all times. others often wondered how you scored a faithful husband at the age of twenty one; and honestly, you didn't have a clue yourself.

akaza wasn't in college, like you. he worked for a private organization; and was twenty-seven himself. you didn't have a problem with the miniature age gap; and slightly found it all the more attractive. don’t get you wrong or anything, men these days just weren't up to par. especially those around your age group, or younger. besides, you doubted you'd ever date someone younger than you.

your cheek is engulfed in your palm, black framed glasses falling from your face as you dive your head against the pillow. your glossy lips ruin your pillow, squinted eyes pulled close. you were all caught up on your assignments, surprisingly. you would graduate from college next month, before attending law school.

man.

the distant sound of keys jangling catches your attention, bringing you to raise your head from the pillow. you glance over towards the door, finding it still closed. whatever, your husband must’ve been home. that was great news, considering you were bored; and needed someone to bother. and a coping mechanism to separate your mind away from the stress of law school, and college overall.

you arise from the bed, sighing softly. just before you completely arised; the door opened, revealing a familiar black haired individual. settling down against the edge of the bed, you’re dressed in a cami tee, and shorts. with narrowed brows, you open your mouth to speak, head tilted. “damn, you were out longer than usual.”

akaza sighs, greeting you with a kiss against your forehead. “muzan requested a meeting.”

you roll your eyes at his typical response. “that man is extremely annoying. i’m sure his employees don’t get paid to take part in sudden meetings.”

the other shrugs, setting his suitcase down against the edge of the bed. the buttons of his suit top remained undone, slightly revealing the outline of his toned chest. of course, he worked out very often; but he looked insane. his body looked, and felt unrealistic. especially his muscles. and it was just perfect for you; deeming he often lounged around the house in nothing but sandals, and shorts. your husband looked fucking amazing.

“somewhat hot, but still annoying.” you finish, darting your eyes elsewhere.

akaza’s attention immediately snaps over to meet your own, blue eyes now settled on you. you’re completely silent, scanning the interior of the room with tapered eyes. your ridiculously pretty face is relaxed, though the last words to leave your mouth were completely out of line. you both knew there wasn’t any honesty behind any of what you just voiced, but the boldness of course; is what usually placed the cherry on the top.

“i’m sorry?” the earthy smell of man's cologne seeped from him dearly, infiltrating your nostrils quickly. the scent mashed well with his body wash. he smelled just as great as he looked. lusciously; you lick at your lips, bringing your eyes back over to meet your lover’s own irritation tainted ones.

“what are you saying sorry for?”

the man rolls his eyes, yet doesn’t settle for any more of your bullshit. maybe on a good day he would’ve fallen for it, but after such a long day at work, he figured it wasn’t necessarily worth the sacrifice. muttering something inaudible beneath his breath, he advances forward into another room; the bathroom.

you whine at the lack of attention, pressing your body up from the mattress to step on to the ground. you felt you had at least a bit of the right to be annoying. you hadn’t seen him in a little over twelve hours. those shifts were dangerous; especially to the wife of the man taking them. man, everytime you’d capture a glance at his boss, you’d send him a filthy glare. if there was anyone you truly hated in this world, you’d bet your ass it was fucking muzan, kibutsuji.

“well, that wasn’t fun.”

for what little of the day you had left, you spent your time preparing dinner. akaza hadn’t gotten out of the shower yet; but he always took long; so to you, it wasn’t anything out of character. you figured a breakfast styled dinner wouldn’t hurt. It was a fun choice as well, considering you were craving it these past few days. your husband was never too picky about dinner choices, so he should be fine with the option you settled for.

dinner was silent for the most part. you watched your lover, whilst spooning a mouth full of grits in between your lips.

“are you ignoring me?” you question, breaking the everlasting silence. you’re seated directly across from him, utensils aligned against the transparent glass table. you’re eyeing him shamelessly, cheek pressed against your palm. well, unfortunately for him; the silent treatment only worked in movies.

“it’s about the muzan comment, isn’t it?”

you hoist your legs up to meet akaza’s thigh, letting the anatomy settle hotly against his skin. you’re not completely facing his direction, but your body is angled to meet his. you’re still shoveling pieces of food into your mouth, chowing down on a sausage as you prepare your next bite. you adored how you looked around him, but never when you were eating. it’s not like you ate like a pig or anything, you were just comfortable enough to eat as you would alone.

“i don’t like being ignored, y’know.”

akaza would always answer you. and being who he was (your husband) of course, he knew you well. probably better than you did yourself. so of course, he was wary of the fact that you were a bitch for his attention. sometimes, he’d purposely pretend he couldn’t hear you just to stimulate some sort of reaction out of you. and every single time; it worked. miraculously, but it did.

“i’m aware, [name.]” his tone was stern; low and captivating. you have to press your legs close at the raw sound of it, an array of tingles pulsing through you like a shooting star. your legs dangle off of his own, your chair now pulled a bit closer to his own. the platform of your slippers pressed against the hem of his seating.

“you’re so pretty when you’re upset, babe.” though you were the one who spouted the compliment, your cheeks don’t of course fail to heat up. your tone is quite teasing as well, a playful smile grasping your lips.

“i'm not upset.” he clarifies, eyeing you momentarily. “you’d be a lot more attractive yourself if you stopped making jokes like that about my boss. it’s disrespectful.”

“huh, your boss?” you question, perking a brow. “what’s gonna happen if i don’t?” a smile slowly grasps your lips, eyes darting over to match a gorgeous blue pair.

you weren’t any idiot, of course. you knew he secretly enjoyed it when you talked back; because in a way, it riled him up even more. to fuck you into complete submission, that was. you could simply tell by the way his fingers grasped your ankle tonight would be worth its while.

your back hits the bed’s cushion quite roughly, though the hand grasped around your neck never detached itself from the stated anatomy. you’re pulled into a rough kiss, a soft groan emitted at the rather brutal force; though you were accustomed to it. the male kissed hotly against your lips, savoring every wince emitted, and the shudders performed. you’re pinned down against the cushion, either of your hands pulled against one another; as they’re pinned above your head; near the neatly stacked pillows nearby.

the spaghetti strap tee you wore was hauled up just a bit, revealing your pierced belly. hell, the lounge shorts you wore had ridden up to your mid thigh. a hand of his is free, to lap at the slick coating your thighs; your legs pulling apart to help give him a little more access to what should’ve been his most desirable target.

“you’re always so quiet when we finally go at it.” he started against your lips, where he kissed softly. a finger of his pressed against your clothed clit, earning a slight jolt from you.

you press your eyes shut as his fingers ride against your soaked parts; shutters emitted. he’s quick with his actions; the stated anatomy dipping past your soaked underwear and nearly into you; residing just near your entrance while he teased your clit with his available fingers.

you have to strain a gasp as he loses your lips; mouth now against your neck where he sucked, and bit. nonetheless he’s an expert. you were so fucking soaked and he had only kissed you. nothing else. maybe him being a man of his words played an odd part in it, but for now, you’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

“god, you’re soaking wet, baby. i’m gonna stuff you so fucking well.” cooed the older male, voice as silky as ever. his words alone were enough to increase the amount of pre-cum that currently seeped through your underwear, a shudder animated as you gasped into your palm, when he sunk a finger into you. not just one finger, but two. and his pace started unforgivingly.

he was already plunging his fingers into you with undeniable speed. you could feel the eagerness, your body jolting beneath his own. akaza stared you down mercilessly, lapping at his own lips with the soft pink flesh of his tongue. your fingers grasped desperately at his wrist as his digits pushed through, flush against your walls. you moan out in pleasure, the slight pain pushed quickly aside as you wriggled in his touch. “f—fuck!” you cursed, fingers caressing akaza’s tight muscles. they felt so fucking nice. he worked out often and it showed physically, thankfully.

“gonna come from just my fingers?” he questioned, shoving another one in without restraint. “shit, you are, aren’t you? you aren’t embarrassed?” your face was hot, flustered in mortification, as he confirmed. his words were rather teasing; although his voice remained silky. rather smooth, even. he worked his fingers like a damn god. he knew just what to do to keep you doused in pleasure, while simultaneously making sure it didn’t send you over the edge. it was clear he knew your body better than you did.

“t—to m-much!” you exasperated. it should’ve been criminal. the way your back arched from the bed as he worked his fingers delightfully. he chuckled coldly at your remark, head lowering; before he leveled himself out of your sight, and beneath your trembling thighs. he tore at your lace undergarments with ease, allowing them to fall against the bed’s soft cushion.

“is it?” he seethed, lapping at your pretty, now exposed pussy. your clit glistened with your own produce, spilling against the velvet colored sheets. akaza wasted no time, settling his tongue against the anatomy, circling it just perfectly. his fingers still plunged into you with brute force, his free hand clasped around your thigh harshly, where he gripped to make sure you didn’t escape his grasp.

“my god…” the only thing you could do was take in the pleasure, moaning as your hand pulled down to grasp at his hair. the grip he had on your thigh tightened, earning a wince of pain from you; though the overall pleasure you received from both his fingers, and mouth overthrew whatever pain you previously suffered. you were so fucking close, closer than ever. “akaza— shit. that feels amazing… don’t stop.”

you were positive he would let you cum. at least now. rapid blinks blinded you, your mouth pulled apart as lengthy moans made way. the knot in your stomach had only slightly undone itself; disappointment quickly washed over you when not one, but all of whatever pleasure you had been feeling before completely vanished.

“b-babe?” there wasn’t much time to react; your body quickly being pushed over. you were now laid flat against your stomach, body pressed into the cushion. your face was hot in embarrassment, mind scrambled. you didn’t know what to say. you could hear the male above you chuckle, his hands settled against torso; where his fingers grasped harshly at. you twitch in his caress, the warmth of his breath evident against your neck since he had resided so close to you.

it was quite thick, and heavy— only for what it was, that is. you guess you couldn’t be too mad, since things weren’t looking so bad for you. it was a shame you couldn’t see it, though. it looked pretty. and trust you, you weren’t at all exaggerating. a pretty pink tip, and gorgeous smooth skin following it. it had a perfect arch, one that could easily strike you in all of the right places. you got lightheaded thinking about it, swallowing hard as you await his actions.

“shit, m’gonna fuck you so hard… give you just what you wanted.” he says, either of his palms engulfing your ass. he spread you apart with ease, spatting out a thick wad of saliva against your entrance, that’d be his substitution for lube. you could only whine beneath him, as you mentally prepared yourself for the next few moments.

“you’re lucky i even gave you that much,” he spouts, cock pushing into your entrance. you have to bite into the sheets, limbs weakening as he pushes further, and further into you. with each push came deep breathy grunts, from akaza himself. he only stopped when his hips were locked against your ass, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist. you gasp out in pain, the lack of proper lube making it all the worse for you. not only that, did you even finger prep properly? he should’ve let you come, before.

“shit. you’re so tight, baby. so tight.” he started roughly, plunging in and out of you with an indescribable force. he was reckless, fucking into you with his own neediness. the tears that spiked your vision fell, staining the bed’s sheets. his grunts of pleasure only satisfies you, making you hot all over. he practically tore his way inside of you, yes— but of course, it always felt amazing soon after.

the pleasure gradually builds, moans spilling from your mouth as he delved even deeper into you, striking you in all the right spaces. there’s hardly any pain involved now; only strained moans and whimpers. you crumble beneath him, head hanging against the pillows— hurried, heavy pants occupying your eardrums. akaza couldn’t see your expression, and to be quite honest he was dying to— all he needed was a proper glance at your fucked out face.

so, he settles against the edge of the matress, only detaching himself from you for a second. in the next instant you're resting in his lap, his cock sinking into you without warning. this angle was even better than the last, though the part where he entered always hurt like a bitch. his free hand engulfed your chin, forcing it down so that your gaze matched your own. your eyes were hazy, eyelids hanging low— making it so that you could hardly even see. speckles of stars spiked your vision, vanishing once your eyes finally fell close.

“you’re a mess, sweetheart.” akaza says, tone low and sweet. saliva grazes your lips, hands weakly wrapping around akaza’s shoulders. you couldn’t say a thing— your body wouldn’t allow you to. no, your brain wouldn’t. all you could do was shut up and take whatever he had to offer, like how he knew you would. of course, akaza always got the last laugh. you started things off, but he’d finish them in an unbelievable way.

“shit, you’re making me feel so good. so good, baby.” he protests, a smile engulfing the lips of his pretty face as he takes either of your ankles in his hand, pulling them apart so that they are fully wrapped around his waist, ensuring that you took every inch of him. there wasn’t any running away in this position, and to be quite frank you weren’t upset with the lack of options.

“akaza…” you mutter, with what little strength you had. “m’gonna come…”

the male eyes the hardly evident bulge tracing your stomach, eyes soon tracing further up. he presses a kiss against the exposed skin of your chest, legs trembling as he nears his orgasm. his pace became desperate as he fucked rapidly into you, practically drilling you dry. your head is resting into his shoulder, hanging between the juncture of both his chin, and collarbone. your ass bounces against his cock, the wet sounds audible. dribbling past your lips was drool, that slid down akaza’s back, dipping into the curves of his muscles. you were far too weak to scratch at him, so for now all you could do was take it.

you wanted to speak up, in the least bit do something. it was hard hearing you anyways, when akaza moaned so desperately in your ear, whispering about how good you were; and how well you took him. he pressed a kiss between your chest, blue eyes tracing up your figure. his fingers grasped you roughly, in fact you were sure it would leave some kind of mark.

just another pump was enough to send him over the edge, specks of white shooting into you; not even a drop trickling down your thighs. it doesn’t take long for you to come after him, your mind going completely numb as you clang on desperately to his body. all you could hear were akaza’s strained breaths that seemed to never end. you didn’t know what to say, or do either. nonetheless, you couldn’t stay like this forever.

finally akaza catches himself, catching your chin in between his index finger, and thumb. there’s a slight upturn of his lips, pretty blue eyes eating at you disastrously.

“one more time.”

[yummyuta]

four sides to every heart | n.y, j.j, l.m

♡ genre: polyamory | smut - mndi! fluff | word count: 2,333 words

♡ warnings: multiple sex scenes, oral (male & female receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, petnames (princess, angel, kitten)

♡ summary: you had always considered yourself to be a rational and organized person, meticulously planning every detail of your life. that was until your emotions had become a tangled mess, involving four crucial people - your boyfriend yuta, your roommate jaehyun, and your childhood best friend mark.

♡ authors note: this is the final part of the series! read the preview, part 1, and part 2 here. i am very pleased with how this all turned out. i have never written before, so i really challenged myself, and i hope you all enjoyed this series!

♡ song recommendation:

the smell of saltwater, the chill breeze, the flowy silk sheets under you, and the sound of jaehyun breathing were all you could focus on when you woke up. it had been a year since you went from one lover to three, and you all decided that a vacation was needed. the boys wanted to celebrate in their own ways and found that scheduling separate time with you would be the best ways to express their love and gratitude for all the memories shared over the past 12 months.

the recollection of the previous events from the night before with jaehyun flooded back to you as you hid your now blushing face underneath the blankets. his strong arm found its way draped across your bare chest, as he nuzzled into your neck. "good morning love" he murmured, placing a chaste kiss there. you turned around in his embrace, wanting to face the handsome man before you. he traced soothing patterns along your spine, his lips finding yours in a sentimental kiss. jaehyun's kisses were one of the many ways you knew he deeply cared for you. he spared no effort in slipping his tongue past, leaving you breathless almost instantly. you recalled the first time he touched you like this, how nervous and unsure those feelings were. you can't believe you made it here now, so self-assured and courageous. if it wasn't for you developing those feelings and going through that door, you dont think you would have made it here now.

your touch became more daring as you slipped your hands from his chiseled chest to his defined stomach and lower. jaehyun always was pleasing you first, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he deserved to be taken care of, too. "what are you doing" he groaned in your mouth when you started pumping his length. "just trust me, and lay back. you took more than enough care of me last night. let me do the same for you." you said sweetly, placing your other hand back on his chest to push him on his back. you started slowly, placing your lips softly around his pink tip, kitten licking before taking more of him in your mouth. you felt him flexing around you, trying to contain his excitement. he was big, but you wanted to prove yourself. you had only ever done this a few times with him and were determined to make this a moment to remember. he hit the back of your throat, you lightly gagged, eyes welling up with tears, but you bobbed your head, moving steadily. hearing jaehyuns deep moans made it all worth it to you, he didnt make sounds all the often so whenever you got the chance to hear it, it was like listening to your favorite song over and over again.

he was getting close, one hand gripping the headboard above him, the other found a hold in your hair. the second you looked up at him with your doe eyes, lashes fluttering, he could have lost it all on the spot. he fought his urges, pulling you off him and placing his thumb on your pouted lips. you held eye contact, parting your lips, sucking lightly. "god, you are perfect," he groaned before taking a grasp of your hips and placing you into his lap. "i need to cum inside of you princess." he pleaded with you, he sounded so needy, something new to the both of you. you nodded, putting your arms around his strong shoulders, lifting your knees that straddled him and lowering yourself inch by inch on his cock. he threw his head back, whimpering "baby relax, im not going to last long if you keep clenching around me like that". you tried your best, but every time he filled you up, it was like that first time all over again. you began rocking back and forth at first, grinding in his lap before you gathered enough strength to start riding him properly.

you were so lost in the feeling of him, your eyes closed and moans slipping past your lips, with every thrust. when you went down, he moved up, setting a lovely pace that worked harmoniously. jaehyun was mesmerized by you, the way your features were highlighted by the morning glow shining through the windows. in that moment, he realized he was irrevocably in love with you. from the time you agreed to live with him, he knew his life had changed in an instant. you not only walked into the door of the apartment you now shared, but into his heart as well. from that point, onwards he began to effortlessly imagine a future with you. he could see you both slow dancing in the living room, whiskey glasses half-drank on the coffee table as his favorite jazz record you bought him for his birthday played in the background. he thought of walking through the door after a long day of work and seeing you playing the piano, your child giggling and smiling on your lap.

the more he thought of how beautiful you would look with a baby bump and the pregnancy glow the closer he got to releasing his seed inside of you. "you are my one and only forever love" he declared, sealing his lips with yours in a passionate promise. his hips stuttered, painting your walls white and securing his fate that he had been manifesting with you this entire time. you were meant to live your lives, building a happy home together.

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

the following day, you felt refreshed, and mark picked you up for a romantic adventure. you took a private yacht to a secluded cove, where the water was clear you could admire the sealife from below. there was a picnic already set up for you, as mark put his hand on the small of your back leading you to it. he was affectionate as ever, feeding you chocolate covered strawberries, and making sure your glass of champagne was never left empty. there was something about mark that was extremely captivating. his graceful composure, humble mind, and compassionate heart made him all the more attractive to you. he was a kindhearted friend and an even more dedicated lover.

as you lay together on the blanket, watching the sun dip low into the sky, painting the horizon shades of pink and orange, mark decided to softly sing in your ear as he held you. "a million different stars but you're the one," you blushed at the line from the song he wrote as you gift he prepared for your anniversary. he dipped his head into your neck, leaving wet traces behind as he shifted his body to hover above you, his elbows on either side of your head, staring into your eyes. "i hope i find you in every universe," he announced as he brushed stray hairs out of your face.

the following hours were spent with him proclimating his everlasting love for you over and over again, with the moon and stars as your witness. he lowered his head between your thighs as he drank up every drop of your sweet nectar. your hands grabbing a fistful of his hair, forcing him to disappear further into you, the hem of your dress covering his face. he looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes, and you saw the entire world in them. your vision became blurry, as your mind further slipped as you thought back to how you have grown up with this man alongside you. you had always loved mark, but falling in love with him was a completely different chapter. tears springing in your eyes as your emotions and upcoming orgasm washed over you.

you moaned his name like a mantra, as you released on his face, but that didn't stop him. his hands wrapped around your legs, holding you closer to him as he continued his menstruations, alternating from sucking your bundle of nerves to laying his tongue flat between your folds licking up and down. "its...too...much" you sighed, becoming overstimulated, your entire body vibrating. "give me one more angel, you can do it" he encouraged against your core, nose bumping into your clit.

when mark was in the zone, there was no stopping him, he could go rounds. the man's biggest vice was you. he went to sleep constantly dreaming about moments like the one you are currently in. waking up sweaty and his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. he was happy to share you, most of the time but there was a part of him that was underlyingingly possessive. after your first time together, he became obsessed with the way you said his name, with how you reacted to him. when he had you to himself is when his true nature could come forward.

you needed something to ground you, grabbing his hands that were forcing your legs apart, interlocking them with yours as your body thrashed with the waves crashing into the rocks surrounding you. it was like you and nature were synced. you had never felt so connected to the world around you, reaching a higher plane as you climaxed. you fell into a trancelike state from the immense pleasure you had succumbed to.

mark finally revealed his face to you, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt before taking both sides of his shirt and throwing it up and over his head. you knew then as you layed in the sand, and he continued to undress himself that your evening with mark as well as your story with him was far from over. you thought of the two of you growing old together, reminiscing on the love that kept you young, carefree, and alive all of these years. after all, it was like time didn't exist when you were around each other. even though you have known him your entire life, you still felt like you had an infinite amount of memories to make with the man you wholeheartedly loved.

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

on the final evening of your vacation, you walked into yuta's private villa that he transformed into a sanctuary. as you walked in, you stumbled across a path of rose petals leading to the bedroom. you continued tiptoeing, making your way to the window, you saw that he had prepared a candle-lit dinner just outside on the terrace. he stood there dressed in an all black suit and boquet in hand, looking as dashing as ever.

you enjoyed a delictable meal together, always enjoying the warmth of his company and the love that he shows you through his acts of service. once you had finished your meal, he cleared the table as you stared out into the abyss of the night. yuta came back out, "wow look at this view" he said behind you, and he raked his eyes over your figure. "i know right, its beautiful out," you responded in awe. "not as beautiful as you...kitten" he whispered in your ear, as he began to undress you slowly, wanting to take his time and savor the moment with the women that he loves and cherishes the most. although he never imagined your relationship coming to these heights, he wouldn't turn back the clock for anything. making you happy was his main goal in life, he realized that the day he met you.

as your dress dropped to the floor, you stepped out of it, turning around and meeting his lustful gaze. you never shyed away from him. the man in front of you seeing you at the most vulnerable and transformitive stages in your life, accepting you with arms wide open. his hands and lips began exploring your body in a way they have countless moments before, with a sense of reverence and desire. the air became filled with soft moans and whispers of undying love. you were standing, pressed up against the cold metal of the balcony. your knees buckling as your hands fumbled around yuta's neck. he showed no mercy, pounding into you with such intensity you swear you thought the ground was shaking. very little words needed to be exchanged, as his actions proved his devotion to you.

your entire sense of self was a torch that only yuta could light. you owed him your life. he was the first real boyfriend you ever had, the first man to show you what real love and intimacy was. if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have found the other pieces that completed you. while mark and jaehyun were equally as important to you, yuta was the first man you ever bared your soul to. thats a love that nobody comes back from, the type of love that you find once in a great lifetime, that you would be willing to go through the pits of hell for. you had met your match and yuta was it.

you clawed your nails, down his backside, as you stood on your tiptoes, one leg wrapped around his waist and he showed no mercy, hitting that spot that made you explode like gold dust. you opened your mouth to speak but couldn't form any thoughts, not when yuta was making love to you like the sky was about to start falling around you. you wanted to tell him you loved him, to thank him for giving you life and meaning to the world you existed in.

in that instant, it was like he knew exactly what you were thinking. he brushed his lips against yours, hips begining to falter, as he lost any ounce of power he had over himself. "i know everything... I love you too," he said breathlessly with his lips curled up into a smile. the one that made everything peaceful around you. lost in the aftermath of the passion, your breathing mingled into the hue of the rising sun, bringing in the dawn of a new day and the continuation of your everlasting love.

♡ ending authors note: for this part, i wanted to do something a bit different and focus on the feeling of each relationship more than the acts themselves as a way to wrap everything up. i enjoyed diving into each individual scene, and i hope you enjoyed this series!

[officialleehadan]

Writing Pregnancy

Hello darlings. I've been thinking about writing this for a while, and it seems useful to a lot of people who are planning to Baby or who have characters who are planning to, or currently are, Babying.

It's not exactly a story, but y'all seem to like these essays from time to time, so I hope this one is interesting too.

So here it is. A guide to being pregnant as written by someone who has recently done it, for writers who have not or will not do it themselves.

This post will be broken down by weeks, because that’s how medical people do it, and also because some of this stuff really doesn’t happen by month.

DISCLAIMER: Every pregnancy is different. Your mileage may differ, maybe a lot. This is based on my pregnancy and is written as a handy reference for people who haven't done this themselves.

An important note, doctors count pregnancy as having begun AT THE DATE OF THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR LAST PERIOD unless there are extenuating circumstances such as an extremely unreliable, or nonexistent period. If this is the case, they will judge it based on your first ultrasound (8 weeks or so) or by when morning sickness kicks in (6-10 weeks) depending on the tech level your character is facing.

Be aware, this guide will be fairly explicit and will talk about the squishy bits, since they’re pretty involved in this whole business. If you keep reading and discover the horrible truth, that pregnancy is profoundly icky in many ways, I warned you.

Anyway, on to the fun part!

FAQ:

I am in my early-mid 30s (early when newly pregnant, older now obviously) when I was pregnant. I am in sound, but not neurotypical, mental health, and good physical health. I do not have major allergies or food issues other than caffeine which I am allergic to. (This is also relevant. More on this later.) I have some notable back problems which will be noted here because they’re relevant too. This pregnancy was planned and I have a wonderful and extremely supportive spouse (husband) who is the baby’s biological father. I also work a lot, but from home, which very much altered my experience

Week One: FIRST TRIMESTER

Technically speaking, right now, you’re probably menstruating and not actually pregnant at all. This will feel like a normal period, because that’s what it is. You’re not pregnant yet. Business as usual. If you were planning to get pregnant, you’re already on prenatal vitamins.

Week Two:

Congrats! You got laid! You still feel normal because implantation hasn’t happened yet. You’re still not technically pregnant. Just horny. Get it while it’s hot. If this pregnancy was an accident, or you’re trying to get pregnant, you’re not eagerly awaiting the point where you can test to know for sure.

Week Three:

Okay this is where you might see your first symptoms if your cycle is very regular, like mine is, and you’re watching your body closely for “that’s new” stuff. In my case, my boobs started swelling like they do when I’m on my period, except I was two weeks out from my period. Cue “huh, I might be pregnant” montage.

Week Four:

If you can test and you’re using the good home tests, or you’re in a hospital, this is probably when you test positive for pregnancy. Congrats!

Cue the “oh crap I’m pregnant??” Montage. (Yes this will happen even if you wanted it, planned it, and were actively trying to get pregnant. There will be some panic. You very likely will consider getting an abortion even if you’re eager and wanting the pregnancy. Don’t beat yourself up. This is normal.)

Week Five:

If your cycle is reasonably regular, this is when you’re gonna miss your first missed period. If you knew you’re pregnant, this is cool! Menstruation sucks. Not having your period for nine months is one of the best parts of pregnancy. If you didn’t know you’re pregnant, you’re probably panicking about now and buying a home test.

The ClearBlue digital ones are good and they’re in most pharmacies. Get those ones. Buy your prenatals at the same time. If you don’t want them, you don’t want them, but if you do want them, making a second trip is annoying. Also consider taking D3, calcium, fiber gummies, and fish oil. They all support you and baby health and keep the pregnancy from taking more of the nutrients form your body than you can spare.

Week Six:

You feel like you should feel different and don’t, and it’s weird. For those with a longer, or irregular cycle, this might be where you hit the stuff from Week Five. If you’re having the boob inflation like I did, that’s still happening. Buckle up. It’s not gonna stop. Otherwise, you feel weirdly normal. For a character who doesn’t have access to good sex education, they may not even know they’re pregnant yet.

Week Seven:

Basically the same as Week Six. You feel like you should feel different, and don’t. It’s uncommon, but you might start feeling morning sickness around this point. It’ll start as vague nausea and food aversions. This will get worse.

Week Eight:

Your first ultrasound! Congrats! It looks like a gummy bear that twitches! If you have twins, it may or may not be detectable at this point. You can’t tell the sex yet. It’s a gummy bear. If you don’t get an ultrasound for reasons of fictional story, you still might not know you’re pregnant. If you’re going to get an abortion, this is the last chance in many places.

Week Nine:

So It Begins. The morning sickness. You have food poisoning all the time. You feel profoundly like hell and may be prone to puking, and still being hungry, so you go back and keep eating, because you need the calories. This is also when you start getting thirsty all the time. This is because you gain more than half again your blood volume while pregnant. You need that hydration to make blood and amniotic fluid for your baby.

I found ice cream bars with nuts to be very good for dealing with morning sickness, and ginger did absolutely nothing at all. I basically lived on tea for a while there.

Week Ten:

Congrats. You feel like crap basically all the time. My morning sickness was pretty mild and I was puking almost every day. More if I hit a trigger food, which for me was anything that tasted or smelled ‘green’ (zucchini especially but cucumber and most leafy greens too) ‘water smell’ (showering, rain, humidity in general) and the usual ick smells (the trash).

You’re also tired all the time. Naps R Us. If you get flat and comfortable, you’re gonna fall asleep. If you’re flat and uncomfortable you might fall asleep. If you’re reasonably supported and upright you might fall asleep. Just assume you’re gonna be sleeping a lot.

If you’re writing a character with morning sickness, they’re likely to be very cuddly, but also very reluctant to go more than a very quick jog to the toilet.

The good news is that this is also when the major risk of miscarriage is over, and is frequently when people tell their families they’re expecting. Cue lots of celebrations!

Week Eleven:

“What the crap did I get myself into?”

Week Twelve:

“When is this crap gonna go away?”

Your baby is moving now, but you can’t feel it at all. You’ll see it in the ultrasounds however, which is neat.

Week Thirteen: SECOND TRIMESTER

“I have been eating soup and applesauce for FOUR WEEKS and I want Mexican but refried beans went Badly.”

it’s not uncommon to get a UTI at this point because you’re peeing a lot and it’s tough to stay clean because water smell makes you puke. Your doctors will take this uncomfortably seriously. You will get The Good Antibiotics, not the piddly crap they usually give out.

You will also now have very strong opinions about what sucks to puke up, as dictated by your nose, which has opinions about everything. You will have safe foods. Unfortunately for you, you’re just about past needing them.

Week Fourteen:

“I want a sandwich with deli meat, and a whole plate of sushi, and I can’t have either of them. This sucks.”

If you gave up caffeine, this is where that will really get hard. If you were already caffeine free, like I was, you’ll be jonsing for stuff you’re not allowed to have, like raw fish and deli meat. Be strong, but if you waver, it probably isn’t the end of the world. 

I’m told this is where cravings kick in, but I didn’t get anything notable, so I don’t know.

Week Fifteen:

This is about the time you kind of start feeling better. They say morning sickness starts improving around Week Thirteen, but for me it was longer. The napping is still a thing, so just be okay with that. This also when I started to show. That really depends on body type. I went into pregnancy carrying a little extra weight because I knew I would lose some during morning sickness (I lost nine pounds and mine wasn’t that bad. Be aware.) so it took a little longer for me to show.

More interestingly, you can actually feel your uterus now. It’s kind of like a grapefruit below your belly button. It will grow. You will be very curious about it the whole time

Week Sixteen

“Hey, I kind of feel better now!”

You have energy again. It’s novel. You can do chores and drive, and generally be a person. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, but here we are. Time to decorate the nursery if you have one, and to put together a whole bunch of stuff. It’s also a good time to clean up the ‘first trimester disaster’ that is your comfy spot and the mounds of crap around it.

Week Seventeen:

Still napping a lot, but almost feel human. Watch out for the Icks (your pregnancy sensitivities, like ‘green’ for me, which didn’t go away for my whole pregnancy) but you can actually take a shower without puking in the shower now! Scented products may or may not bother you later, but you’ll want them after you give birth. I threw away my shower gel after it made me sick and I regret it now.

Week Eighteen:

“Wow, I have a Baby Bump!” Cue walking around with your hand in your belly so everyone knows you’re pregnant OR wearing your biggest baggiest clothing to hide it and still feeling like it’s super obvious.

Week Nineteen:

There’s a fair chance you felt your baby move at this point, but unfortunately you’re also farting enough to fill the Hindenburg and this early any kicks feel like gas. Stay away from open flames and you’ll be okay.

Week 20: HALFWAY DONE!

Anatomy scan! This is your second ultrasound and the one where you might find out the sex of your baby. This is also where they’ll look for birth defects and genetic conditions. You may also do a blood test here which can also screen for genetic issues, and problems such as RH incompatibility, which is totally treatable with modern science but could kill a baby in a more medieval story.

Note: you may not find out the gender at this or any point until birth. My little girl got her nickname of Wiggles because she was doing cartwheels and the tech couldn’t get a good look between her legs. We didn’t find out her gender until she was born.

If you do find out, and this is crucial, DO NOT tell anyone but your partner what the sex is, or what names you’re considering. Everyone has opinions and all of them suck. Lie through your teeth about not knowing, or just tell them you want it to be a surprise. Do anything but tell them what they want to know. You will regret it if you do

Week Twenty-One:

“Holy crap that was intense. Definitely a kick!”

This is called the ‘quickening’ and for a fantasy character, will be one of the big ‘you’re really pregnant’ signs, because miscarriage is common. At twenty weeks, that risk is much less, which is a huge relief. Plus, now you’re getting kicks, which are all kinds of fun. It’s your first chance to really interact with the person you’re building inside you!

Week Twenty-Two:

“I need to clean the whole house right now everything is dirty I might rearrange the living room.

Welcome to nesting. It doesn’t go away. Use it to your advantage and clean whatever needs cleaning. Don’t judge yourself for starting and not finishing a project. You’re burning everything you have. Shame isn’t welcome here.

A fantasy character may start cleaning if they’re poor, or making baby clothing.

Week Twenty-Three:

Okay here’s where I started having problems. I have hypermobile ribs and mild scoliosis in my lower spine, these together mean a lot of back pain over the years, which I am very familiar with and which is annoying at best and debilitating at worst.

The issue? Pregnancy comes with a huge dose of the natural chemical relaxin. As the name implies, this softens up your tendons, among other things. If you have hypermobility already, get ready for a whole range of fun new ways to pop your bones out of place.

The worse issue? During pregnancy, you’re not allowed any painkiller but Tylenol. If you’re like me and hyper resistant to most pain meds, you might as well be popping tiktacs for all the good Tylenol will do for you.

Buy a heat pad (NOT A BLANKET, you cannot overheat right now) it will help.

If you tell your medical professionals about this back pain, they will freak out and want to get your kidneys tested, because asymptomatic UTIs can turn into kidney infections very quickly during pregnancy and can get very serious very quickly. If you are familiar with your particular brand of back pain, have the “Chronic Pain and You” conversation with your doctor early. The earlier the better. They still won’t give you anything better than Tylenol, but they probably won’t try to test your kidneys unless you pop a fever

Week Twenty-Four:

Kicking! Those are real kicks! Holy crap! Kicking!

This is so much fun, but it's also pretty unreliable. Baby will kick when it pleases them, not when you want to show someone else, and it'll be sporadic, even until the very end.

You may be getting Braxton hicks contractions. They don’t hurt, but they make your belly tense up, which is amusing. Also, when you orgasm, your uterus will get all hard. It does this normally, you just can’t usually feel it. It might freak you out a little. Coincidentally you will be horny enough to hop aboard just about anything that holds still long enough. Get a willing partner and/or a very fine collection of sex toys and be prepared to spend a lot of time taking yourself in hand.

Week Twenty-Five:

Your Dr appointments now happen every two weeks unless they’re worried about something. Also, buy a really comfortable pair of slip on shoes. Your time of being able to reach your feet is coming to an end and you’re gonna want them. Pro: maternity clothing is super soft and comfy and you’re gonna be delighted to wear it. It does tend to come in an unfortunate variety of ‘little house on the preggo’ floral patterns with demure necklines, but there’s some good stuff out there

Week Twenty-Six:

The Eater Beast Appears. You’re hungry all the time. No really. All the time. Constantly. Nuts are good for a snack. I ate a lot of peanut butter and apples. You may be having cravings. If so, lean into them. Have fun with it. This is the good part of your pregnancy.

Plus side, EVERYTHING tastes good!

Week Twenty-Seven

You REALLY look pregnant now. People will start asking when you’re due and giving you bad advice. Don’t murder them. You can probably get away with it, but cleaning up all that blood is hard when you can’t actually get off the ground without help anymore.

Week Twenty-Eight: THIRD TRIMESTER

Final ultrasound and gestational diabetes testing. The ultrasound is fun because Baby looks like a baby now! Holy crap! There’s a whole person inside you! You contain twice the usual number of bones! If you’re having a boy, you have in fact grown a pair.

My baby had a tiny little heart defect, so we talked to a specialist at this point. Try not to freak out if this happens. Defects like that are very easy to fix, and often go away on their own as my girl’s did.

The diabetes testing is different for everyone. They’ll have you drink a glycerin drink (get the orange flavored one. It’s reasonably inoffensive and you have to chug the stuff) and will test your blood to see how you react to the sugars. Don’t freak out if it’s positive. Most of the time gestational diabetes goes away after birth. If you’re borderline, they’ll test you again but for three hours rather than one.

The glycerin drink made me really sick and I refused to do the three hour testing. They will get very grumpy if you do this, however, you can buy a diabetic testing kit and track your blood sugars four times a day for a week instead, and they’ll accept that too. (Don’t get the one they prescribe. The Contour Next is cheap, reliable, easy to use, and doesn’t cost $200)

They might want you to change your diet and exercise. You will want to murder them for this. Don’t do it. Go for the damn walks and eat less carbs. It will kind of suck, but it’s for your baby, and it isn’t permanent.

Week Twenty-Nine

Return of the Nap Demon. You will sleep SO MUCH. Let it happen. Your body is working hard to build another person. Have mercy on yourself. Eat. Be okay with the weight gain. A lot of it is the baby inside you and your placenta, and the fluid you need to support them both. You need the calories.

Also, LACTATION! This is when two more of your orifices, which previously did not leak, start to leak. This too, will get worse. You can save the colostrum for your baby though, which can be helpful.

Week Thirty:

The Final Countdown. You’re ten weeks off your due date and if you haven’t already, you need to figure out how and where you want to give birth. Talk with your midwives and doctors. If you’re high risk, they won’t want you to give birth outside a hospital. This will feel crappy, but is honestly the safest choice provided you’re willing to tell doctors to piss off when needed. Start figuring out your birth plan. Talk to other expecting parents.

Week Thirty-One:

“Ugh, I’m huge.”

At this point, your character absolutely is not getting on a horse without a lot of help, and cannot ride for long regardless without serious discomfort or even pain. A fall could mean losing the baby, or a serious injury, and the undercarriage is not gonna handle having that much weight on it for long without protestations.

Week Thirty-Two

“Why am I crying? I’m not actually upset about anything and yet, I am hysterical.”

Warn your partner about this phase beforehand. They won’t believe how bad it’s gonna get, but the warning is still nice to have. Remind them that you warned them between bites of your favorite ice cream.

Week Thirty-Three:

Everyone you know who has baby stuff will try to give it to you. Be prepared to refuse whatever you don’t want. Be merciless or you will be flooded with broken baby crap you don’t want until you find some other poor soul to pawn it off on.

Week Thirty-Four:

You’ve been talking names, but now it’s time to decide for real. Try to follow this guide with your baby name options. Your kid will thank you for it.

1. Easy to say (no weird pronunciations)

2. Easy to spell (you are permitted ONE silent letter and no more)

3. Does not require explanation (Cultural names of a culture you’re not part of, especially)

4. Sounds good with middle and last name

5. Initials don’t spell something weird or stupid (Dora Indigo Kennedy sounds great, but the initials spell DIK)

6. Has agreeable nicknames (Elizabeth > Lizzy)

7. Isn’t a gimme for bullies to make fun of (Pubert)

8. Isn’t in the top 10 most popular names within the last five years. (Don’t want five of them in the same class)

9. Is not the name of someone you hate, even if it’s also the name of a family member. (obviously)

Follow these, and you will have a happy child who does not resent you for naming them something weird and messed up that no one can ever say or spell correctly, and which they have to explain every time they introduce themselves

Week Thirty-Five

You’re huge. You’ve just about reached maximum size and if your baby comes early at this point, they’ll probably be fine. This is immensely reassuring, because you have spent the last several months panicking about what if the baby comes early. Nightly baths are amazing. Also, your hair and nails will grow super fast right now, so be ready for that.

Week Thirty-Six:

Mobility is a serious issue. Stairs are hard. So are curbs. Getting into and out of a car is a Process and getting up off the couch or out of bed takes a While unless you have help. Your balance is screwed and you waddle now. You’re a real fall risk and that does change how you interact with the world.

You also probably can’t unload the laundry if it’s a top-loader, and you might not be able to do the dish washer either. Bonus! Less chores

Week Thirty-Seven:

Remember the Nap Demons? They’re back and they brought a friend. Heartburn Hell. It’s been bad for a while but it’s worse now. Skip the tums and go for something stronger.

Week Thirty-Eight:

Your craps are gone. Baby is due in fourteen days and you have given up on your good habits. You’re probably still walking, but only because Baby has their head lodged against your cervix and is trying to burrow out. People call this lightning crotch for a reason because it really feels like you have a taser lodged up there that gives you a shock now and then

On the plus side, baby kicks like crazy now and that’s both awesome and kind of uncomfortable. You can play with their feet and poke them, and they’ll probably have a favorite place to hang out in your belly. Pro tip, if baby just will not settle, get a hot pack and put it against the side where they hang out. They’ll curl up and go to sleep on it. Just make sure you don’t overheat.

If you think anyone this pregnant is doing much of anything except growl about how heavy they feel and eat, you’re wrong. Nobody is leading armies to war like this. Anyone trying to fight because their life is immediately in danger will probably lose because they are large, heavy, clumsy, and their center of gravity is toast.

Week Thirty-Nine:

The last rush of Nesting and it’ll be a bad one. You’re gonna try to do all kinds of stupid crap, like scrubbing the floors (you get stuck) climbing up ladders (you are a fall risk, get down) trying to drive places (you get dizzy, you should not be driving at this point) and trying to lift heavy stuff (absolutely not). You might try to paint your nursery or hang curtains. I tried to plant my whole garden. Don’t be me

Week Forty:

The Due Date Has Come. You’re now on baby-watch. You’re probably having a ton of Braxton Hicks, but the big difference between them and the real deal is pain. Braxton Hicks don’t hurt and real ones kind of feel like period cramps. How uncomfortable contractions are at first will really depend on how you handle pain.

Week Forty-One:

“What the hell do you mean I haven’t gone into labor yet?? Get this child out of me!”

Week Forty-Two:

“Crap. I’m just gonna be pregnant forever, huh? …oh crap. I think my water just broke.”

The usual questions:

Morning sickness:

So, morning sickness isn’t puking all the time. In fact if you’re puking more than once a day it’s a serious medical condition called hyperemesis gravidarum and sometimes requires medication

More commonly it’s a general sense of not feeling well, followed by brief but dramatic puking. Honestly, the closest analogy is really bad food poisoning when you can feel the puke coming, but it hasn’t come yet

During the morning sickness phase, you HAVE to eat. Not eating makes it so much worse, so it helps if you set a strict schedule of eating a snack or a small meal every two hours you’re awake, and as soon as you wake and right before bed. Apple sauce good. Doesn’t suck coming back up. Same with most soups. Avoid spicy, acids, and crunchy stuff. They’re all miserable coming back. Drink a LOT of water.

Scents will be a problem. Your sense of smell goes haywire and cranks up to 11. I’m practically noseblind and I could smell the apples in my kitchen from across the house. Normally this would be fun. During morning sickness, it means fun new ways to puke in exciting places. The smell difference between being inside and going outside is sometimes enough, and any of your trigger scents or flavors will get you reliably. Scented products are a hard no. Pack them away for now. You’ll want them later.

The hard part is that doing anything strenuous, like hanging out with friends or going to the grocery store, will make it worse for the days following. The exhaustion compounds. You absolutely can’t borrow from tomorrow’s spoons and trying to push yourself will just lead to being even worse off the next day. You HAVE to rest. It’s not optional and your body will enforce it on you.

It does help to get an essential oil you like and wear it in a diffuser. I used lavender, but any smell you like and which doesn’t smell like death to you will work. Make sure it isn’t touching skin. A lot of oils are caustic, and some are toxic.

Other than that, just try to ride it out. It doesn’t last.

Body changes:

It starts out slow and then lingers. You’ll feel like you should be showing way before you are, but once you hit your second trimester, it’s very obvious you’re pregnant, and one you hit the third trimester they can probably see you from space. You waddle. Your coordination goes down the tubes, you’re hot all the time, thirsty and hungry all the time, and exhausted a lot of the time.

You will also stink. Your BO will spike with your hormones and unfortunately, you will absolutely not want to bathe until the third trimester, when you want to be in the water all the time.

Your hair will, however, be awesome. Preggo hair is a thing. So is post-partum shedding, so be ready to shed more than three long-hair cats. It’s a thing. Unfortunately this does include your body hair, which will grow fast and thick. If it bothers you, you’re gonna be shaving a lot.

Here’s where it gets TMI, but if you’re writing a pregnant character or you’re pregnant/want to get pregnant yourself, you gotta know. There will be itching. You will not be able to shave your undercarriage at all after a certain point, so if it matters that much, you’ll need help. Your cooch will also smell different. Weird, but there it is.

Being in water helps immensely I spent a lot of my pregnancy in the bath and I strongly credit that for helping to support my back and ribs, which were not thrilled about the temporary tenant. It also helps with the ‘ugh I’m heavy’ complaint. Spend as much time in the water as you can, but remember not to let it get more than 100 degrees, or you can put Baby and yourself at risk. You have a lot more blood in your body right now. That makes for certain issues, such as fainting.

You will feel heavy. This is most notable during the third trimester, but when it becomes a problem, it really becomes a problem.

This is a problem because the only pain killer you’re allowed is Tylenol, and not much of that. If you’re in screaming pain, you can go totally hospital but they probably won’t give you anything for it. There’s a serious risk to your baby; and while they won’t prioritize the baby over you, you’re the one who is driving the bus, so they’re gonna make you obey the metaphorical traffic laws.

Labor:

Game day. You’ve been waiting for this for nine months and thank anything holy it’s finally here.

It starts as little flutters that kind of feel like gas, and you’ll probably be farting a fair bit anyway because you have a baby squishing your organs in every direction. After a while, it’ll start to feel more like cramping, and that’s when you know it’s game day. You start timing them at that point, and here’s where Hollywood starts messing up.

Labor is slow.

I was contracting for about ten hours before my water broke. If you’re pregnant, buy the adult diapers. Just do it. Put them on as soon as you realize you’re in labor. What comes out of you when your water breaks is foul. It’s not water. It’s slime, and it’s stinky. Sometimes it’s brown. It’s never something you want on anything you’re planning to keep. The diaper will contain it and you will be GLAD.

So ten hours in, my water broke. This is the sign that it’s not false labor. You’re ready to rock and roll.

This is also where my story differs from most.

Generally, when your water breaks, you’re about ten hours from pushing. Those ten hours will suck, but the nurses are mostly really nice and you can kick the mean ones out without repercussion. If you don’t vibe with one, switch tjem out. You don’t have to keep a nurse you don’t like.

The contractions will get stronger and they will get more painful. The nurses will call them “intense”. That’s bullcrap. It hurts. If you want medication, you have options. Ask for them freely and without shame.

Pushing is kind of a blur. You’ll be on so many endorphins and probably an epidural, that you’ll be in a haze. You push with the contractions for best effect. You’re gonna poop. This is good. Means you’re pushing right. You absolutely will not care in the moment.

It will feel like it’s not progressing at all, but your support people are gonna be on the ball and they’ll give you updates. If you have an epidural, it helps. If not, breathe through it and ride the endorphins. The worst part is when the head isn’t entirely through the cervix and everything is stretching a whole lot. Once the head is in the channel and you’re making progress, it gets easier.

It still hurts a whole lot, even with the meds, but you honestly won’t care because your whole body is designed to do this thing, and it’s GONNA do it at this point, whether you want to or not.

As soon as the head is out, the rest of the baby follows, and it sort of feels like you’ve been gutted. Things because you pretty much have. Birthing the placenta is entirely secondary to your tiny new baby and getting sewn up if you tear is uncomfortable, but after everything else, pretty negligible. Also, new baby!

Afterwards:

So, postpartum recovery sucks. All those endorphins are gone, you’re no longer on pain meds, and you just squeezed a baby through your cooch. You probably have stitches, and everything hurts. Walking is hard and without help, it’s also dangerous. You’re a fall risk. Do not try to hold your baby and walk at the same time unless you absolutely must. That’s what your birth support person is for. If you don’t have one, they’ll provide one.

Peeing hurts. Pooping is worse. You will be passing blood clots and your underwear (remember, get the adult diapers. They’re way better) will look like that scene from The Shining with the blood tsunami. This is all normal but it’s pretty horrifying.

They will give you various products to help with recovery. Some work better than others. Use all of them. The compound effects help.

It will be about three weeks before you feel like you can pee without it hurting. It’ll be closer to six before you can poop without worrying. Either way, there will be some major changes to your squishy parts.

Me specifically:

Remember how I mentioned my story was different? Yeah. So I was in labor for 62 hours, and pushed for five of those before my daughter was born.

For most of it, it was just waiting for my body to get into gear, and then when I wasn’t progressing, for the pitocin to kick in. I didn’t want to be on pitocin, but I wasn’t going to risk my baby, and labor that long comes with some real risks to mother and baby.

I did have both fentanyl (which for reasons of my messed up biology doesn’t affect me at all) and an epidural, which did help, but was hindered by my scoliosis. (Having a curve in your spine makes it hard to put the needle in the right place).

I could have had a c section, but I was very against it and since we were doing okay, despite it taking a long time, they let me have a vaginal birth.

This is not normal and is a product of my messed up biology. Your experience may differ.

Breastfeeding:

Okay babies do not come out of the uterus knowing how to do this. They’re really bad at latching at first and it will take a few tries to get them to latch. Even then, if they have a high palate or a tongue tie, they may struggle to latch.

Even so, breastfeeding really is an incredible feeling of knowing nature built you so right that you can keep your whole baby alive with just what your body makes for them.

This can make breastfeeding hard, and even if they have a good latch, it kind of sucks for a while as your nipples get used to nursing and your milk comes in. You’ll produce colostrum for the first few days, and that will slowly turn to milk over a week or so.

Baby will need to eat basically every hour for the first few weeks, then every two hours, but in greater amounts. As they get better at feeding, it gets easier, but there’s no shame in using formula as a support for your milk. The goal is to keep the baby alive.

Once you’re both used to it, you can even nap pretty well while you feed, especially once you’re in bed. Just make sure there’s absolutely no risk of dropping or rolling on top of the baby.

Your Baby:

Here’s the good part. Babies are awesome! They’re cute, they’re fun, and they’re deeply entertaining to mess with. Make sure you have a basket of toys for your baby, and let the good times roll, even when things are hard. They’ll only be this small once, The tiny baby clothes feel too small until you put them on. I’m keeping all of mine. I don’t know what I’ll use them for, but they’re too cute to get rid of.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Same Time, Same Place

Prompt Day 16: Modern AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Modern AU, Rideshare Driver Eddie, Slightly Injured Steve, Meet-Cute, Eddie POV

Eddie pulls up to the curb of the nice-looking house, and waits. 

And waits, and waits.

He considers canceling. He looks at his app again, and his passenger is supposed to be a guy named Steve. Finally, the front door swings open, and a guy in a suit, on crutches, struggles to get himself out of his house and down the sidewalk. 

Well, that explains the delay, at least.

Reluctantly, Eddie gets out and opens the car door for him, "Hi, I'm Eddie."

"Sorry, I'm Steve, thank you," Steve says, sliding into the back of the SUV, and Eddie takes his crutches from his hands.

"Front seat okay for these?" Eddie asks.

"Yes, thank you," Steve says, smiling at him, pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder. Then Steve looks down at his phone, and starts tapping away.

"Just you?" Eddie asks, because this guy booked the SUV-XL option. 

"Just me," Steve says, "I just thought there might be more room for my crutches and cast."

"That's definitely true," Eddie answers, he will give him that. And this guy doesn't look like he probably cares about the extra cost. Fine by Eddie. He'll take the larger fare. The band bought this big boat to haul around the equipment, and Eddie's been using it to pick up rideshare passengers lately, just to make a little extra cash so they can pay it off quicker.

Eddie hauls Steve downtown, and fifteen minutes later, stops in front of an office building. He hops out to help Steve out of the car. 

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, and he hobbles away towards the wall of glass doors.

Eddie completes the trip, gives Steve his five stars, and pulls away. 

He gets his notification of his tip a few minutes later, and it's nearly the cost of the trip. He's definitely glad he didn't get impatient this morning.

At about six o'clock, he gets another fare, and he realizes it's for the same building, and sure enough, out comes Steve. Eddie gets out again, and does it all in reverse.

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, and Eddie isn't sure if he remembers him from this morning, or just checked his name before he got in. He's going to go with the former, because unless he got a head injury with that broken leg, surely Steve can remember what happened eight hours ago.

"You're welcome, Steve," Eddie says, and takes him back home.

Eddie winds up getting the same fare, three days in a row, both ways, and it's one of the best parts of his day. Steve's easygoing, and he tips like a motherfucker. But on Friday morning, there's no ride request for Steve. Eddie even put himself in range of Steve's neighborhood to maybe help the matching process along, but he knew it was never a guarantee. 

Well, it was good while it lasted. Steve might be a little slow moving on his crutches, but he was always polite, and his tips were above and beyond.

Eddie's never had that kind of streak of getting the same passenger before. Sure, he's driven a few familiar repeat passengers, but not for several days in a row. Eddie wonders if the pool of new SUVs is just lower in the area.

That evening, he gets the ride for Steve again, and he's really happy as he heads towards Steve's office building.

"I'm so happy it's you again," Steve says as Eddie meets him on the sidewalk, "This morning was rough."

"Sorry to hear that," Eddie answers.

"I favorited you and everything, but apparently that's not foolproof?" Steve questions out loud.

Eddie didn't even know favoriting a driver was a thing a passenger could do. 

"I requested the big SUV, but that's not what he showed up in, which didn't go great with my crutches."

"What happened to your leg, anyway?" Eddie asks, because he's definitely been curious.

Steve laughs, "Well, I went skiing with my best friend, and she's clumsy, and ran me over. She's fine, but my leg, not so much."

Eddie smiles at him, "That sucks."

"Definitely. I can't drive for six weeks."

"Well, I'm happy to be your chauffeur whenever we're paired up, man," Eddie says.

And they chat more than they had on the previous days, and it's fun. Some passengers are rude, others are just quiet, but Steve's talking to him like they're just hanging out.

When he pulls over at Steve's address, Eddie looks back at him.

"Feel free to say no," Eddie starts, "but if you're interested, I could just give you my card. Then you could just contact me directly when you want a ride." 

"Really?" Steve asks, his eyes lighting up. 

"Sure, if you want to. We can try to request the ride once I'm right there, or we can do it under the table for way cheaper."

"That sounds great, Eddie. Thank you. Monday morning? Same time, same place?" 

"Absolutely. I'll see you then, Steve." 

And it goes on for weeks, five more of them, until Steve comes out of the doctor's office Eddie had driven him to, and Eddie sees he's cast free. 

He's happy for him, he is, but he feels a little sad that this arrangement has come to an end. He's had fun. Really, truly, had fun. He's happy Steve's free of the cast, but Eddie still feels a twinge of sadness. He's enjoyed spending thirty minutes of his day with Steve Harrington. 

"Look at you!" Eddie says, acting more excited than he feels. 

"I know! All better," Steve says, sliding into the front seat next to Eddie. 

And Eddie drives Steve home, dropping him off for the last time. 

Eddie's waiting for another fare, when his phone dings. 

[4:15PM] How 'bout I pick you up in my car for a change. Dinner tonight? 

Eddie smiles, re-reading the words a second time, just to make sure he isn't dreaming this up. When he's sure he's not, he says yes, and sends Steve his address.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[enkays-den]

Skizz Week 2, Day 4: Warm/Cool

@skizzlemanweek

1.3k, no warnings, Skizz, Grian, Gem, Scar, a pinch of Impy, Phasmophobia AU

Tonight was a rare session of ghost hunting without Impulse. Someone had gotten his construction appointment written down wrong and he’d ended up double-booked, and he’d rather miss out on a ghost sesh than wait another three weeks for a chance to meet with his contractor. Luckily, when Skizz has messaged the GIGGS group text, the other three were all available to help, making it a full party instead of solo Skizz night.

Their younger friends had been very excited in chat, sending ‘yay we get to hang with tall dad today!’ (Scar), ‘I can’t believe Impulse has abandoned his best friend’ (Grian), and ‘since it’s fun dad today, we get to stay up past midnight, right?’ (Gem).

Impulse didn’t reply to those messages, but he did send Skizz a private text.

😔 why?

They just miss you, buddy <3

It looks like the exact opposite…

Don’t worry, they’ll be begging for you to come back once I start telling my jokes.

haha, ttyl bud 😊

Skizz returned to the van, tossing a burnt smudge stick into their little trash can. Grian hated cleaning up the ash off the floor in the morning. “I am seriously considering just gagging this one as a mimic, I’m getting nothing from the looping.”

Gem was flicking between the camera feeds, but started to turn around to face Skizz. “Yeah, we’re getting no other activity from this thi– oh, you actually look like death.” 

“Gee, I feel so loved,” Skizz said sardonically.

Gem pulled out her radio. “Boys, we’re gagging mimic and you’re getting your butts here, Skizz is gonna die if he goes through another hunt.”

“Thank goodness,” Grian said, voice crackling through the hand set. “I told you guys it’s taking the mick out on us.”

“This ghost is no fun,” Scar agreed, rolling up the ramp. Does that mean that this is the last hunt of the night?”

“For Skizz? Yes.” Gem responded, leaving the van to help Grian collect their equipment from all around the hospital. 

Skizz took a folding chair from a rack on the wall and sat with Scar, slumping a little. You ever get a good look at the ghost, Scarface?”

“No, just one DOTS before it changed rooms,” Scar sighed, looking at their cheat sheet rubric of ghost types. “There’s a part of me that wants to say it’s a shade with how few hunts we’ve seen. We’ve been here for like, an hour and a half!”

The older man rubbed his face. He really did feel like crap. “Something like that. I feel like the pace during hunts was always changing, so that either means that I’m going crazy, or it’s twins or mimic.”

“Scar?” Grian’s voice came in through the radio. “Can you help me get some of this stuff to the van?”

“You don’t need to go, Scar. Let me do it.” Skizz leaned forward to stand up, but Gem chose that moment to speak into her radio.

“And no helping, Skizz. You just sit there.” 

Skizz picked up his radio. “It’s just one trip, Gemmer!”

Gem’s response was instant. “You. Stay.”

Scar giggled as he rolled out the truck.

“When did you get so bossy?”

The static of the radio rang out again. “I learned it from Other Dad.”

Sighing, Skizz grabbed a pair of drumsticks from his bag and starting running through one of his old routines on a clipboard he placed on his lap. 

After a few minutes, Grian’s distinctive accent sounded from outside, muffled by distance. “Guys, it’s over, he’s drumming. Might as well just drop him home.”

“What? You stop that talk!” Skizz threw his sticks in the corner, intentionally making the most chaotic clattering he could.

“And now he’s throwing things,” Gem complained. “He’s like a baby in his highchair.”

The three other hunters entered the van, laden with cameras, mics, and other devices. Grian started putting things back in their holders or charging batteries, and Gem walked over to Skizz.

“You’re still really pale,” she noted. Putting the back of her hand to his forehead, she frowned. “Skizz, you’re literally freezing!”

“Am I?”

Grian touched his head as well. “Yup. Cold as my hometown.”

Gem sighed. “I thought you’re supposed to be the one looking after us.”

Scar went over to his things and pulled out a heat pad he usually used for his back and put it into the tiny microwave they had in the truck. 

“You need to get this jacket off and get a jumper on or something.” Grian said, tugging the cheap faux-bomber jacket off the older man’s shoulders.

“There’s a fleece I use in that compartment under the backseat,” Scar said, testing the temperature of the pad with his hands.”

Grian nodded and left the truck to fetch it.

Gem took the jacket and felt it in her hands, grimacing. “Skizz, if you were in Canada with this thing, you’d die.”

“It’s just the first thing I grabbed,” he protested.

Their radios buzzed. 

“Alright, lads,” Grian said. “I’m turning on the truck to warm up the front, let’s get Skizz and Scar in the back seat. The cargo box of the truck shook a little as Grian turned on the ignition. When did he take Skizz’s keys? He really was tired.

“Come on,” Gem prompted, pulling Skizz up and strapping the folding chair back to the wall. 

Grian reappeared, taking the heating pad from Scar and wrapping it up in the fleece he’d fetched. Once Gem and Skizz were out of the box, Grian slid the ramp away and shut the door. 

With Skizz lifting under his arms and Grian holding his legs, Scar was lifted into the back of the cabin, his chair folded up and placed behind him. Skizz then piled in, followed by Gem. 

Grian got in the driver’s seat and cranked the heat. He turned around in his seat to face the three in the back. “Doesn’t really seem like we’re gonna do another hunt, fellas.”

“No, let’s get Skizz home,” Gem agreed. She was trying to finagle the fleece blanket around Skizz and the seatbelt. Scar was strapping the heat pad to the back of Skizz’s shoulders.

Skizz was feeling instantly better. He tucked his hands underneath his legs to warm them up. “You okay driving this thing, G? I know Dipple Dop has only given you a few lessons.”

“I’ll find a way to your house that doesn’t take the highway,” Grian said absently, scrolling on his phone.

“Grian, do you have your British tea? Could you spare some for Skizzy?”

Grian passed back a thermos, which Skizz sipped from gratefully.

“I feel so pampered,” he joked. 

“We’re saving your life!” Scar said dramatically. “We can’t let Skizzy freeze out on the field!”

“iDad would be so disappointed,” Grian said, pulling onto the road. 

“Oh, he’s going to be disappointed regardless, I’m telling him that Skizz almost froze to death,” Gem said, trying to act cool but Skizz could hear the smile in her tone.

Skizz reached out with both arms and brought Gem and Scar closer to him. “Well at least I have you guys to be there for me. Love you!”

“Love you too, Papa Skizz!” Scar said happily, hugging him awkwardly.

“Me too,” Gem said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about me?” Grian complained. 

Skizz reached forward and clapped Grian on the shoulder with a large hand. “Course I love you, G!”

“Yeah,” Grian said enthusiastically. “That was a real Dad pat on the back!” He turned on the music player and groaned when the sounds of rock music filled the truck cabin. “Ugh, and a real Dad playlist.”

In the end, Gem didn’t tell Impulse what happened when they got to their house. She called him and told him on the way back.

I’m changing your contact name to ‘Blizzleman’ ;)

I’m more insulted you’re not even coming up with a good play on words >:[

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: merry christmas eve and happy sunday! the promised andrei christmas fic (written extremely fast and edited even faster lol) title is from cher’s new christmas song which is a bop and a half so i suggest listening. going to be quiet the rest of the year to stockpile some writing, but happy new year everyone, i’ve been beyond grateful for the love my fics have gotten this year 😘

word count: 3.9k

tw: minimal smut, unprotected sex, brief fingering

summary: christmas eve at the svechnikov house is a chaotic but fun affair

“Mama?”

“Yes, my love?” You look up from the bowl of cookie dough batter. Evie was supposed to be helping after waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but the lure of rearranging all the decorations on the small tree in her room was more appealing. Your little perfectionist oldest daughter had shifted ornaments no less than fifteen times since you’d put the decorations up right after Thanksgiving.

Alina hops from foot to foot and you don’t necessarily love the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “I catch Santa!”

You squint at her. “You’re catching Santa? Santa’s not a lizard in the backyard,” you say gently.

“I catch Santa,” Alina repeats. “Tonight! With presents!”

It clicks in your head - she means that she wants to stay up late and catch Santa leaving presents - and you laugh. “Oh, baby, you can’t stay up to see Santa, otherwise he doesn’t leave presents, remember?” You set the bowl of dough aside and scoop Alina up into your arms, sitting her down on the counter. She pouts at you, chubby little fingers reaching to play with the strings on your hoodie.

“Wanna see Santa,” she huffs. Her little pout is identical to Andrei’s and it makes you smile. You love seeing your husband’s traits and mannerisms in your girls.

You lean in to whisper conspiratorially, “guess what? Someone better than Santa is coming in a little bit.”

“Who?” Alina perks up, eyes going wide as she bounces a little. “Mickey Mouse?”

Another laugh bursts out of your mouth and Alina giggles with you, always ready to laugh with whoever’s around. “No, not Mickey Mouse,” you giggle, tickling her sides lightly and enjoying her childish laughter. “Babushka and dedushka!”

Alina shrieks happily and you catch her when she launches herself forward off the counter. The kids love when Elena and Igor come to visit and they don’t know that this trip will be extra long, as they’re staying for nearly three weeks. Once Andrei finishes his workout, he’s supposed to be going off to pick them up from the airport.

“Bring puppy?” She asks, little arms locked around your neck and wide awake considering it’s not even seven in the morning.

“No,” you shake your head, “they’re not bringing the puppy. He has to stay home where he has his bed and all his toys.”

That would be the last thing you need in the house - in-laws, three kids, a husband who’s traveling several days a week, and to add a dog on top of that? No, thank you.

“I share my toys,” she says sweetly.

You press a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, you do share your toys with Evie and Kira. But puppy toys are different. Why don’t you go draw a picture to give Babushka when she gets here?”

Alina nods wildly and wiggles her way out of your arms and down your body before running off to the kid sized table you have set up in the den with all their craft supplies. She’ll be distracted for at least ten minutes, which gives you enough time to get the cookies on a baking tray and in the oven. Why you waited until Christmas Eve morning to make the cookies for Santa is a question for another day.

You’ve been awake since 4:30 already and your energy is starting to flag, so you make a quick mug of coffee before portioning out the sugar cookies and dipping them in the green and red sugar sprinkles. While you sip at the drink and finish the cookies with your other hand, your mind wanders to everything that has to get done today. There are a few more gifts that have to be wrapped, but for the most part you’d managed to get everything you and Andrei bought for the kids and his parents wrapped at night. You’d also wrapped all the gifts Elena and Igor had bought for the girls and had shipped directly to your house.

Dinner tonight is going to be chill and Elena had insisted on handling most of that, so you don’t worry too much about the menu. You’ll be helping her, since most of the recipes are from your childhood, but she loves cooking when she visits so you don’t mind letting her.

You decide that you’ll have Andrei take all three girls with him to the airport so you can have a minute to shower - hair wash and shaving included - without little hands knocking on the bathroom door.

Otherwise, you have to iron the girls’ outfits and tidy up the chaos before the girls hopefully go to sleep early so you and Andrei can set out the presents.

“Thinking hard?” Andrei’s teasing voice startles you out of your mental to-do list. You turn away from the counter and take him in with a smile. He’s sweaty from his workout, hair falling over his forehead that he swipes back with his free hand. Kira is on his hip, a giant four-toothed smile on her face. You nudge at her round cheeks with your knuckles, grinning back at her.

“Were you Papa’s workout buddy?” You ask her in a bubbly voice. “How’d he do?”

“Papa!” She yelps, smacking at Andrei’s chest with her hands and cuddling closer to his side. She plants a smacking kiss against his cheek, her favorite party trick to get adults coping over how cute she is.

Andrei kisses the top of her head and rests his cheek against the crown. “She’s a good cheerleader,” he laughs. And as if they practiced it, Kira waves her hands in an imitation of jazz hands. You laugh and kiss your youngest on the tip of her nose, making her giggle.

“Give me the baby and go shower,” you say, already taking Kira into your arms. She transfers easily, snuggling into your neck, one hand splayed over your chest. “I need you to take all three with you to the airport and you’re going to need to get going if you want to get your parents on time.”

He looks at the clock over the stove and frowns a little. “They don’t land until 9:30, plenty of time.”

“Yeah,” you nod, untangling your hair from Kira’s grip, “but you have to shower, the girls have to be changed and put in the car, and you have to drive to the airport. Time goes faster than you think, please just get everything going?”

Andrei nods and grips your chin in his hand to tilt your face up for a kiss. You melt a little, humming quietly. “Okay, solnyshka. We will go when everyone is ready. Do I need to pick anything else up?” He asks, tickling Kira’s back.

You shake your head, “just your parents. Next year they’re coming here earlier. None of this flying on Christmas Eve business.”

“I will tell them,” Andrei laughs before heading upstairs to shower.

Four hours later, after you’ve finished taking the cookies out of the oven, showered, and pulled together a quick little breakfast spread, Andrei’s car pulls back into the driveway. You pull open the front door with a huge smile on your face, laughing when Elena’s dragged into the house by Evie and Alina, Kira held on her grandmother’s hip. Andrei and Igor are back at the car, handling all the bags.

“Moya devushka,” Elena greets you with a warm smile and a tight hug, Kira squeaking and complaining when she’s caught in the middle of the two of you. “Ah, prosti, myshonok.” She kisses Kira’s head.

“Mama!” Evie dances at your feet, tugging on your sweater. “Babushka said she’s staying forever!”

“Mid-January, at least,” Elena shares a smile with you, helping you usher the girls inside. Kira clings to her like a koala and you love how much the girls love their grandparents.

Evie widens her eyes - Andrei’s eyes - at her grandmother, “that’s like forever! And look,” she grabs Elena’s hand, pulling her to the living room, “r’member we showded you our tree on the phone? Now you can see in real!” Alina trails along after them, clutching the stuffed Grinch that she’d recently decided was her new best friend.

Confident that the girls are handled, you head back outside to help Andrei and Igor with the bags. Your father-in-law greets you with a kiss to the cheek and waves off your help, “you have strong men. Go with Elena and girls.”

You know from past experience that it’s basically useless to fight with him, so you grab up Elena’s oversized purse from the backseat of the car and run back inside with it, wearing a sneaky little smile, before Igor can chastise you. Andrei’s laughter follows you inside.

“Elena,” you call out, “do you want your purse or should I put it in your room?”

“Oh! Bring it here,” Elena looks over her shoulder at you from where she’s sitting on the ottoman, having been oohing and ahhing over the drawings the girls made for her. “I have surprises.”

You hand over the bag, talking over the girls’ excited squeals, “you shouldn’t have. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Elena waves a hand in the air at you and if it were anyone else, you’d be annoyed at the dismissive gesture. “Small things,” she explains, reaching into the bag and drawing out little toys and Russian candies for the girls. “These were your Papa’s favorite,” she explains, handing Evie a wrapped chocolate.

Andrei appears behind you and leans forward, snatching another candy out of his mother’s hand. “Still are,” he winks at the girls. He unwraps the chocolate and pops it in his mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I’m going to clean out the car,” he gives Kira a faux-glare, “one of the myshonok spilled her Cheerios.”

“It was Kira,” Evie pipes up, chocolate smeared around her mouth. “She spilleded out the whole bag!”

Kira, recognizing her name, giggles and chants, “Mama! Papa!”

“Our messy little girl,” you ruffle her hair gently. “Not too much candy, okay? It’s still really early.”

You know you’re going to be ignored, but you have to say it if only to stave off the mom-guilt. With the girls distracted by their grandparents - Igor’s wandered in and is telling Alina a joke she surely doesn’t understand yet - and Andrei busy with the car outside, you take the opportunity to slip upstairs and finish wrapping the few gifts that had been delivered in the last few days.

When you come back downstairs after finishing up and taking a few extra minutes to just breathe in the relative quiet, everyone’s huddled around Elena’s phone FaceTiming with Geno and his family. Everyone chatting in rapid fire Russian, even your kids, and you smile. You love that the girls are fluent in Andrei’s native language and it’s good practice when they talk to his family. The girls giggle with their cousins and you pull out your phone to snap a candid shot before joining the call, waving to Geno and his wife.

You stand behind the couch, looping your arms around Andrei’s neck and resting your chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the lively conversation. You’ve learned some Russian over the years, but you’re nowhere close to fluent and once they all start talking so fast, you’re basically lost at sea.

Andrei leans his cheek against yours, holding out his hand while he talks to block Evie’s foot from hitting him in her attempt at showing off a cartwheel. She pouts at Andrei when he tells her to sit down - that you understand, at least - and Andrei huffs in exasperation when Elena turns right around and clearly reprimands him for stopping Evie. Your head is starting to swim a little from all the noise and you press a kiss to Andrei’s cheek before standing up and heading into the kitchen.

A dog barking joins the chaos and you know Geno’s brought Igor’s dog on the screen. The girls squeal with delight and you know this means you’re going to get a barrage of begging for a puppy.

“Mama,” Evie skips her way into the kitchen, “can we show Babu and Dedu Belle’s christmas?”

The call with Geno is either done or the girls had gotten bored of sitting in one place. You nod, knowing she means the Beauty and the Beast Christmas movie, and say, “sure, bunny. Ask Papa to put the movie on the TV.”

The movie keeps them occupied for a little bit, even after Elena leaves to come help you in the kitchen. You work quietly with your mother-in-law, chatting easily about the girls and the plans for their extended trip. You’ll have a more involved celebration on January 7th - when Christmas is traditionally celebrated in Russia - with Elena making dishes that Andrei remembers from his childhood. But with the girls being raised in America, it’s easier for them to have Christmas traditions in line with their classmates and friends.

You’re incorporating some of your holiday traditions - namely the relaxing aspects of the day, watching movies and spending time with the kids - and it’s nice to not have to worry about going super over the top. Tomorrow, Andrei and his dad will grill steaks and you’re making a few side dishes and Evie helped make some cookies during the week. More than anything, you’re just excited to see them get into Christmas and to make memories with them.

The girls go down for their naps and you and Elena get to finish prepping dinner. It’s a quiet rest of the day, until suddenly it’s after dinner and the girls are bathed and changed into their matching pajamas - little candy canes printed on a white background - and Alina’s chattering about catching Santa.

“Where did she even come up with that?” You ask Andrei, laughing a little. “She said it this morning too.”

“Ah,” he gives you a sheepish smile and you’re instantly on guard, “maybe I said something. They asked about Santa and magic.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain so I said to stay up and see how he does it.”

You snort a laugh, filling Kira’s bottle and closing the lid. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Better hope she knocks out like usual or we’re going to have a long night.”

Andrei settles his hands on your hips and pulls you close, kissing you gently. “I think there was enough excitement today. They will sleep, solnyshka, don’t worry.”

Resting against his chest, you loop your arms around his lower back, excitement bubbles up in your chest for the girls to see their gifts. “I know I’ve said it before,” you mumble into his chest, “but thank you for agreeing to do two Christmases.”

“Anything for you, solnyshka,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. And then you’re interrupted by the two older girls, running in and begging to set out the cookies for Santa. Andrei lets you go and lifts both girls up onto his hips, telling them, “make sure you pick good cookies. I think he likes ones with a lot of sprinkles.”

He winks at you over the girls’ heads and you suppress a little smile while you put the cookies the girls select on a special plate. The plate of cookies is carefully arranged on the coffee table, next to a glass of milk that Evie had very carefully carried from the kitchen.

“Can we watch Frosty, Mama?” Evie asks, giving you puppy eyes. She’s already tucked up on the couch in between her grandparents, one little hand wrapped around Elena’s forearm and the other clutching her Stormy plush - this version has a little Christmas sweater on and you’d tried to resist buying it but you’re weak when it comes to saying no sometimes. Alina’s already looking like she’ll pass out any second, head resting on Igor’s chest. Andrei has Kira in his arms, rocking from side to side so she’ll fall asleep.

“Okay,” you nod, “but as soon as Frosty’s over, it’s time for bed. Remember, Santa doesn’t come if you’re awake.”

Behind you, Andrei snorts a quiet little laugh and you know exactly why, but you refuse to dignify him with a response. You press your lips together to smother a laugh of your own.

“I’m not gonna sleep,” Evie informs you, apparently on Alina’s side with wanting to catch Santa. “I’m not even sleepy, Mama.”

Her sentence is punctuated by a huge yawn and you catch Elena’s eye, both of you muffling laughter.

“It would not be so bad,” Elena says, stroking Evie’s braided hair, “to close your eyes a little, zaychik.”

Evie wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, but you’re not surprised when all three girls and both grandparents are all passed out before Frosty even gets on the train to the North Pole. Andrei’s already brought Kira up to her crib and now he helps you bring up the older girls, lifting their combined weight easily into his arms while you wake up Elena and Igor.

“Jet lag,” they both laugh tiredly, Elena giving you and Andrei kisses on the cheek before retiring to their room. Igor offers to help bring the gifts down to the tree, but Andrei says something in Russian and his father nods, closing the door behind him.

You leave the doors to the girls’ bedrooms cracked a little, hoping you’ll hear them in case they get up. Tossing Andrei a Santa hat you’ve kept around just for this moment, you grin, “let’s get this done, Saint Nick.”

Andrei jams the hat on his head and gives you a crooked smirk. “Red is my color, solnyshka,” he teases and swats at your ass gently when he follows you to the second guest room that’s been serving as your gift and wrapping room.

Between the two of you, all the gifts are brought downstairs in less than an hour. Andrei likes to deposit the boxes randomly, leaving the huge box that you know is a Barbie Dream House for the girls to share right in the middle of everything. You shake your head and move it towards the back, making sure the presents are arranged nicely and there’s room to walk around all the furniture. You spot a handful of gifts labeled in Andrei’s messy scrawl and it makes you smile.

“Last one,” he says, setting a smaller box on top of the rest. “Time for bed?”

You survey the scene, skipping over the gifts and landing on the plate of cookies. “Oops, no! We almost forgot the cookies, take a bite out of one or two,” you suggest, knowing his massive sweet tooth. Andrei bites off half of a tree shaped cookie and holds out a second to you for you to bite.

A yawn escapes as you’re chewing and you cover your mouth immediately, mumbling an apology. Andrei scoffs and rests his hand on your lower back to guide you up the stairs, “let me take my zhena up to bed.” His voice is low and deep, warm despite the tiredness lacing his tone. The Santa hat is crooked on his head and it makes him look boyishly handsome. You recognize the look in his eyes and you add a little sway to your hips on your way back to your bedroom.

“Your parents are right down the hall,” you say quietly, even as you pull your pajama top over your head and push your pants and underwear to the floor.

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you, hungrily taking in the sight of your bare body. Your nipples tighten under his scrutiny and you feel a rush of warmth between your legs. He steps forward, crowding you until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, landing flat on the mattress with your legs splayed open. He leans one knee in between your legs and covers your body with his to kiss you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly when he pulls back, one of his hands sliding up your side, over your chest, to rest at the base of your throat, “guess you’ll have to be quiet, solnyshka. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, hooking your ankle around Andrei’s hip and pushing at the waistband of his joggers. “Get rid of these,” you demand and Andrei kisses you again before standing up and stripping, his clothes discarded to the floor in seconds.

“Remember,” Andrei grins, running his fingers over your sensitive clit, making your back arch off the bed and a sharp gasp escape your lips, “quiet.”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to prevent any noise from escaping as Andrei pumps his fingers inside of you, curling and flexing them until you’re dripping down the curve of your ass. “Andrei!” You can’t help but moan his name when his fingers press up against your g-spot.

“Ah,” he tuts, pulling his fingers from your cunt and covering your mouth with his palm. “Quiet.”

With his hand muffling your noises, Andrei kneels between your open legs, lining up his cock at your entrance and sliding into you with one smooth thrust. You whine behind his hand, clenching immediately around his length, legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Sparks dance behind your eyes, pleasure building low in your stomach.

Andrei fucks into you with a steady rhythm, his hand warm over your face. You roll your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust and before you realize it, your orgasm is building and cresting, flooding your veins with fire. You bite down on Andrei’s palm and he hisses, finishing inside of you with a few more thrusts.

Everything is hazy and sticky and you blink up at Andrei, trying to focus on something other than the selfish desire for a second orgasm. Andrei’s hand shifts from your mouth to cup your cheek. His eyes twinkle with mischievous glee and you brace yourself for whatever he’s about to say.

“Santa was not the only one coming tonight, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you burst out laughing, push at his chest, “I hate you.”

Andrei kisses you sweetly, laughing too. “Sorry, that was bad,” he climbs off the bed, pulling you to your feet so you can both shower quickly and he can change the sheets before you go to bed.

It feels like you’ve only gotten ten minutes of sleep - thanks to a pair of wandering hands on your husband - when your bedroom door bangs open and Evie’s screaming, “SANTA BROUGHT PRESENTS!” She jumps onto your bed, bouncing on her knees in between you and Andrei, shrieking with delight. Andrei catches her around the waist and pulls her into a big hug.

“You’re going to wake the whole house, zaychik,” he teases, giving you a sleepy smile over her head.

“Everyone’s awake! Babu’s makin’ coffee and she said I had to wait five whole minutes before I woke you and Mama,” Evie informs him. “Can we pleaseeeee go open presents now?” She throws her arms around Andrei’s neck and pokes her lip out in a pout until he nods and she scrambles off the bed, racing for the stairs and screeching, “Papa said we can open!”

You yawn and slump against Andrei’s side, grinning tiredly, “I wish we could bottle her energy.”

“I will work on it for your birthday,” Andrei teases, kissing you warmly. “Merry Christmas, solnyshka.”

“Merry Christ—“

“MAMA! PAPA! PRESENTS!”

[mimicha-arts]

Date: 09/13/2023 In my previous post, I wrote that time in s2 is broken and dead. I was curious if this was true for s1, too… For me the main problem of the last month was the dates in the files (character intros), the date of Emma's death + September 9th mentioned in episode 3, so I tried to consider these as related things. I always was confused by April-September thing, I thought that it is a mistake, but. Probably not. So. Let's break down the first episode! It was a deep dive, I'm not sure how real any of this can be, but (c) Let's divide everything into three parts:

Сhronology

It's not about Quede

April is not April

WARNING: SPOILERS

Chronology

April 16, which we see hours later that day. Qiao Ling receives an order from an unknown customer.

The goal is to get financial core data of Quede company. Information has to be obtained by diving in Emma, during the last financial settlement meeting before the release of the financial report, 2 days ago, on the April 14th, photo was posted at 10 pm.

Additionally, it is mentioned that there was an earlier photo, but they start with the most recent one so that the information is not “outdated”.

Events take place from April 16th to 17th in the present for Lu Guang. From April 14th to 15th in the past for Emma and Cheng Xiaoshi.

April 14th: 10:00 pm - start of diving. As Emma, Cheng Xiaoshi lived through the events in the company's office and stayed for overwork.

April 15th: About 2:45 a.m. Emma's parents text to her, Cheng Xiaoshi decided to reply.

9-10 am, morning, the meeting began. A conflict situation occurs, the laptop falls, Emma!Xiaoshi is on the floor. Lu Guang records data from the screen - Cheng Xiaoshi returns to the present time.

Later this day. Somewhere later that day, information about the company is leaked, involved people are arrested (news from April 17th)

Before 10 pm: Emma comes home after this day, she realizes that the situation with Quede is a stain on her career, because she was Mr.Zhu's assistant, there is no way for her to find a job in this field anymore.

Lately she discovers messages (02:48, that Cheng Xiaoshi texted) with her parents - this becomes her motivation for a call. It's the same day, still today (今天）- April 15th. This is the reason why we know that the disclosure of the company's affairs occurred on the same day after the meeting.

After 10 pm, before 10:30 pm Emma goes to the train station but runs into Liu Min, agrees to go with him.

About 10:34 p.m Liu Min attacks Emma.

Somewhere between April 15th and 16th. An accident occurs, Liu Min will be left paralyzed.

April 16: At the moment of dawn, Emma jumps from the bridge.

Later this day, Quede Company was suspended (news from the 17th)

Later, Emma's body is found in the river in the evening (mentioned as "yesterday", news from the 17th)

April 17: present 9-10 am: Lu Guang gives instructions to Xiaoshi, they successfully obtain the information, Xiaoshi returns to the “present” time.” Evening, the same day: We receive information about the disclosure of financial fraud in the past tense until the 17th from the news at the end of the ep. Additional note: in these events, there is another Cheng Xiaoshi from the "future" (events of October 22-23), who hides first in Liu Min's trunk, and then on the bridge with Emma. The chronology of events can be written as follows:

So it's clear - Lu Guang himself receives the necessary information about the company on the 17th at 10 am. By that time, Mr. Zhu had already been arrested 2 days ago and the company's activities had been suspended 1 day ago. Precisely because of financial fraud.

Also his reaction to Emma's death is interesting. Okay, that's a guess, but I always had the feeling that he knew she was dead from the very beginning of the case.

2. It's not about Quede

And so, we know that data about the company and financial fraud were already published on the 15th. The question remains simple - why did the mysterious unnamed client need the data, since he would have received it only on the 17th, after information about the fraud in Quede was already made public before they (the client) offered this task/job. So what other events are happening on nearby dates? They're not in the episode, they're in the characters intro. Obviously, the unknown client was unknown for a reason. As we also know, there is a character (or characters, there are 2 signatures on the documents) who are collecting dossiers on the main trio. There is a high chance that all of this is connected. This event takes place from the 14th to the 17th in total. Date on Qiao Ling's file: april 8th Lu Guang's file: april 10th Cheng Xiaoshi's file: april 12th

Documents for Lu Guang should be destroyed on the 17th, for Xiaoshi - on the 19th. This timing is kinda perfect. In my opinion, this task/job came as part of an "investigation" so that the unknown could better study the process of trio's work, understand the abilities of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang, probably, what their time limits are. So, yes. If we look at it from this side, this is not about Quede, it is not about financial fraud, it has never been about it. This research is to answer questions about the abilities of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang that remained on the files.

3. April is not April

April is a lie. Events take place in September. Although it’s more likely that the time has already been broken since the first season, and we technically don’t know which one is correct. Although Lu Guang's watch and documents (character dossiers) point to April, real events cannot possibly take place in April for many reasons.

1. 3rd financial quarter This is the main reason. This is stated in the first episode by Qiao Ling, and should immediately raise questions. The third quarter cannot possibly be April, absolutely. Because the following months are considered the third quarter: July, August, September.

2. News, 3rd ep Qiao Ling listens to the news on her headphones. We are not given a name, but the circumstances are the same - we learn that Emma's "suicide" was most likely a murder. Once again, it's September.

3. Cold weather is coming Emma's parents arrive to bring Emma warm clothes and mention that it is getting colder. If it were April, on the contrary, it would only get hotter, but everything is different when it comes to autumn.

4. Murders I am firmly convinced that the numbering of victims does not correspond to the real chronology. Yes, we know that there were more victims, and Emma was never "first", I mean those cases that were consolidated by the police and are in Xiao Li's documents. We have dates for an early murder in April, Emma being somewhere in the middle of that "break", since she was killed in both “April” and “September”, and there were murders after her, where the month was not indicated. Which once again points to the fact that something is wrong with these two months. Now things are going to get confusing, we consider April like September here. I can't see and understand details, so I'm only able to find the dates, since the numbers can at least be distinguished. Emma is considered the first murder only by number (died "April-September" 16th), but number 4 (Zao Cai, a blond man) died before her, "April-September", 2nd. In the folder, her documents go after his case. I think the fact is that initially the police believed that Emma committed suicide; at first, her case was not classified as a part of a series of murders, so police did not assign a chronological fifth number, but later, with new clues, simply moved her old documents in the "correct" chronological order to fifth place.

This technically makes Emma a 5 case… Or even a 6th. Because case 6 (Nan You) is also not without mysteries. The date of death is 14. I'm not sure why they put her file after Emma. Maybe they're unsure of the date or something and it's just an estimated date? So her date of death also “fell out of space.” But if 14 is correct, then this girl died 2 days earlier than Emma herself, and Emma technically becomes case 6.

The eighth case (Zhao Lin) occurs on 25th. The mystical 7 case is somewhere before that date, but we don't know how much of this is actual April or September.

In addition to mysterious 7th case, we also have 3 other earlier victims. They had to die before "April-September" 2nd, so the time of their death is roughly "March-August". We haven't seen their documents, but we know about their cases because of the photographs (the girl in the pink suit is probably the girl with the dog from ep11, since the BG is the same)

And also Xu Shanshan.

Who technically didn't die due to the time loop, but most likely "died" (since Lu Guang was thrown out) in the original events, which was still visible for Lu Guang in the unaltered photo.

I mentioned this in the post about s2 - the interesting thing is that Xu Shanshan's phone, as shown in s2, does not have a single photo from May to the end of October (current events with unknown date), which is quite. Strange.

All the murders had to happen with the similar style and certain time frame that they could be connected as a series. Given the news about Xu Shanshan: it was written - no new murders had occurred for several weeks (数周未出现新的受害者), which fits the September-October period (s1 ends at October 23). So we know for sure that the last cases with unspecified months should have occurred in September.

So. Obtaining financial information as a goal does not make sense, "someone" studies our main characters at the "perfect time", and all the dates are intertwined and have inaccurate implications. Like, almost half a year was literally “stolen” from time? Or something similar. The dates are so deliberately strange that I am speculating solely that time was broken from this point already, not even in s2 - what happened can only be speculated for now until we are told the background of Lu Guang's story. And who is the real 7th victim if April and September are mixed up, and the time has been “changed”. The funny thing is that everything also connected to the birthdays: April 15th - Cheng Xiaoshi's birthday September 16th - Qian Jin's birthday October 23th - the day Lu Guang was stabbed, exactly before his birthday Maybe I understand something incorrectly and I'm going down the wrong path altogether. No conclusions. My CPU is blown up. Thank you @wrathyforest for discussing this with me, trying to find connections, completing everything with time points, you are the best!

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || I.N. x Reader

Summary: Watching the guy you have a huge crush on be a pretend couple with one of the prettiest girls you know for a photoshoot isn't the perfect way of spending your morning, that's for sure.

Who knows though, things might start looking up sooner than you'd expect.

Word count: 3.9k

Genres: college AU, fluff with a little angst, idiots to lovers (but only one of them is an idiot and it's not IN)

Warnings & Tags: reader has anxiety, reader is insecure, someone is verbally unpleasant towards the reader, kissing, Tzuyu from Twice is in this

series masterlist

A/N: So this is part one of my lil project for Stray Kids' anniversary! I've got three one-shots written so far, so I'm confident I'll be able to post the maknae line in the next few days, and then take a couple of days to finish the hyung line or post them as I write them, I'll see. I hope you'll like it!

For this one-shot, please do suspend your disbelief for the way the school work is described in this lol, think of it as an artistic rendition or as something out of one of those shojos that go wayyyy overboard.

The shoot is supposed to start at 10, which means you’re there at 8, and the second you walk through the door you’re already plagued with thoughts that you should have shown up half an hour ago. Even as you’re the only one from your team there, you feel the familiar lump forming in your throat. Your mind goes over everything that needs to be done, everything that can go wrong, everything that is likely to go wrong, and everything you’ll end up taking the blame for.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. You focus on the end of the shoot — supposed to be at noon, but likely to actually be at 2, and it should be around 3 by the time you finish cleaning up —, on how you’ll be able to get back to the quiet of your home afterwards, and on how the atmosphere here isn’t too bad, this early in the morning. You’re not the only one here, you’ve already met the tired eyes of a few of the other students who you suspect didn’t go home last night, but there is something light in the air. You saw the sun rising on the way over and the light is still gently pouring in through the windows.

What a shame this won’t last.

When the others start rolling in, you’ve set up your little corner, just the way you like it. Your lights, your mirrors, your brushes and products, right where they should be so that they’ll fall right under your fingers when you need them. It helps you breathe a little better, but the lump doesn’t go away. It’s alright; you’re used to it by now.

Nari’s the first one to walk in, which isn’t surprising considering she’s the one directing the shoot, and it’s her clothes that the ‘models’ are going to be wearing. That is to say, the students she’s recruited to model for her, just like she recruited you into doing the make-up for her. The two of you aren’t close, not even friends, but you’re good at your job and a bit of a pushover, which makes you the ideal target for that kind of things.

She waves at you with a tense smile, but you know it’s not meant for you, she’s just stressed out. She always is. Unlike you, though, she has a tendency of taking it out on others, and that explains at least half of the tension in your shoulders today.

You need to learn how to say no to people.

Tzuyu, from the dance program, enters next, looking unreal as always. You’ve worked with her a few times before, too. She’s a sweetheart and you know she’ll make your job easier.

The same can’t be said about the next person to make his way through the door, whose apparition you’ve been waiting for since you got here, embarrassingly glancing at the door every few minutes.

Yang Jeongin walks in like he owns the place.

To be fair, he kind of does. Also enrolled in the fashion course, he’s pretty much the go-to when it comes to getting male models. Hwang Hyunjin, from the dance programme, is the second one, mostly because he’s harder to get a hold of — and because, you’ve heard, his girlfriend is pretty scary.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks over to your spot. His coat is thrown casually over his shoulder, his walk confident, and stylish glasses that you know he doesn't need rest on the tip of his nose. He died his hair back to black recently, but you can see it’s still damaged from the light pink that was his previous color.

“We meet again,” Tzuyu chimes from her seat, grinning from ear to ear, and Jeongin smiles in response, his expression changing entirely the second he does.

“It’s great to see you, Jeongin,” Nari purrs as she approaches, before she sets her eyes on you. “Are you done with Tzuyu? We really need to get started here.”

You know you shouldn’t let her speak to you like that, you have no reason to, but all you can think about in the moment is to pacify her to ensure that she’ll leave you alone.

“I still need a few minutes with her,” you say, and Nari huffs in annoyance, before her attention is captured by a guy setting up the lights and she power walks over to him.

“Do you want me to tell her something?”

You shoot a surprised look at Jeongin, who’s staring at you with a frown on your face, and you immediately look away. You hope it looks like you’re just focusing back on Tzuyu, and not like your heart jumped up to your throat when you met his eyes.

“It’s fine,” you say, “I know how she gets on shoots. “Just sit down and I’ll be with you in a second.”

He nods slowly, eyes still on you as you busy yourself around Tzuyu, but the tension remains in his jaw, which you don’t miss. It gives you a pang in the chest — shit, you don’t like when people are displeased with you.

It also makes his jaw look really good.

Tzuyu leaves to go appease Nari as soon as you’re done with her, and you’re relieved when she’s dragged away to go put on her clothes.

That doesn’t last, though, because next thing you know you’re a few inches away from Jeongin’s perfect face, and he’s staring straight at you.

You swallow. Then you grab one of your brushes, and you get to work.

“No late night snacks this time?” you ask, half-teasing because the last time you’d worked with him, his face had been somewhat puffy from it.

A smile breaks on his face, and immediately there are flowers blooming in your chest. He can look so serious and unapproachable one second, but as soon as his lips curl and his eyes crease, he’s a whole other person.

“I didn’t want to make your work harder,” he replies. You feel yourself freezing, and then you turn away to grab another product, praying that you didn’t just stare dumbly at him for too long.

“You got started on your take on the modernized hanbok already?”

He hums in reply.

“I have one sketch. You?”

“I’m counting on the rush of adrenaline I’ll get the week before to finish it,” you admit.

You’re too focused to see the curiosity in his eyes when you say that. You do, however, notice him tilting his head, and you immediately correct him, fingers sliding along his jaw to pull him back in his correct place. As you do, you feel him swallowing, and you’re quick to remove your hand.

If you’d been looking, you’d have noticed his ears turning red.

“You were the first one here, though,” he says after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, yeah, that’s because I don’t want to let people down. I’m the only one who’ll get in trouble if I procrastinate too long.”

And even then, you won’t, you’ll just spend a horrible week telling yourself you’ll never do that again.

You inevitably will.

God, you’re so tired of living with yourself, sometimes.

“You should tell me if you need a last second model,” Jeongin mumbles. He’s careful not to move his lips, but you’ve perfected the art to understand that language over the years. The comment makes you laugh.

“You're always completely booked for shoots on the last week,” you grin. You yourself still give a few hours of your time here and there, though you don’t stick around very long. You know that Nari plans her shoots ahead partly for that reason. It’s kind of flattering, if you think about it.

Someone with her drive and her talent gets to have a shitty personality, you suppose.

“I’ll get Hyunjin to replace me.”

There goes your heart again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only time you spend with him goes like that, because you’re too cowardly to approach him during class, and it’s not fair that invariably—

“Are you done soon?” Nari shouts from behind the screen she’s put up to make a corner into a changing room.

“Just a few minutes more!” you reply before focusing back on Jeongin. “I’ll think about it,” you tell him, though you know yourself well enough to be able to tell that you’re extremely unlikely to go through with it. Just the drafting of the text would take you hours, and actually sending it? The idea is laughable.

You really wish you were normal with that stuff.

“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” you say, and he goes still, and your heart’s hammering in your chest, but at least he’s no longer saying things you’re at risk of misconstruing.

As he closes his eyes to let you put on the finishing touches, though, you know you’re in for a long day.

“Jeongin, can you put your hand a little lower? Tzuyu, smile with your eyes please? Now tilt your head more to the right? More? Jeongin, look at the camera but like, from the side, from— Okay, two seconds for touch ups, and then we’ll need to get things done a little faster everyone, alright?”

Nari’s forcing herself to smile so much that you think she might cramp. You rush past her to get to Tzuyu and Jeongin, carefully touching up their make up where you need and adjusting a little for the light. You also pat Jeongin’s forehead to catch beads of sweat that formed under the artificial light, and he gives you a grateful nod as you do your best not to think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.

“We’ll be done soon,” Tzuyu says cheerfully, but even she seems to be forcing her smile at this point. You don’t blame her for it. You do, however, think she’s not being very realistic about how much work they have left.

It’s 11.30 and they’re nowhere near done. The start of the shoot ran late because of Nari’s adjustments to the clothing. After that, there was a heated conversation between her and the photograph over the subject of filters, leading to the guy throwing his hands in the air and quitting on the spot, meaning she’s the only one there. You can tell she’s fuming, and though you have sympathy for that, you’re also pretty terrified of becoming the subject of her ire.

“You’re not messing him up, right?” she asks, glaring at you, and you jump away from Jeongin.

“Sorry,” you say automatically, even though you haven’t done anything wrong. “I’m all done.”

She looks at him critically, trying to find flaws in your work.

“He has a spot on the chin,” she says finally, “seriously, if you don’t get your shit together we’ll never—”

“You don’t speak to her like that,” Jeongin interrupts her, and his voice sounds sharp and cutting.

The air freezes in the room. You risk a glance in his direction. He’s staring straight at Nari, lips curved ever so slightly downwards in distaste.

He also does have a little spot on the chin.

Shit.

Nari’s staring at him, too. She’s paled, and her lower lip is shaking.

“Sorry,” she finally says, voice trembling. “Sorry, I’m j-just— We don’t have that long and— Sorry.”

She looks small and vulnerable, and your heart melts on the spot. You can’t help it.

“It’s okay,” you say, “just give me a second to fix it.”

Jeongin exhales slowly next to you, but you suspect it’s in annoyance, not in relief. Still, he leans towards you to give you better access to his face.

“You don’t have to placate her,” he mumbles, lips barely moving.

“I know,” you reply. “It’s just easier that way.”

He frowns, but doesn’t add anything. For a second, you almost tell him that you wish you could stand up for yourself, that the truth is your ‘freeze’ response strikes you every single time and you can’t figure out what to say, that if you could, you’d—

“All good?” Nari asks.

You give her a nod and, this time, she doesn’t say anything about Jeongin — or about Tzuyu, for that matter. So you walk back to your spot, and you watch as the shoot continues.

You don’t really like watching these. That’s generally true. You have friends who do, who think that ‘this is where the magic happens’, but you know all the magician’s tricks, and that leaves no actual magic for you. Still, you’re needed here. You suppose you could have quit on the spot after Nari’s outburst, but it’s— you can’t actually do that. So you’ll stick it out until the end, even if you’re not enjoying yourself.

And that is particularly true as Nari directs Jeongin to pull Tzuyu closer to him. As he does, neither of them questioning it because they’re used to it by now, you find yourself sucking in a discreet breath between your teeth. Jeongin’s hand seems large over Tzuyu’s shoulder, long, pale fingers gently brushing against the skin and for a second, you think about the electric feeling that would run through you if he ever—

Just thinking about it makes heat shoot through your entire body, and you swallow. At least no one’s looking at you.

Another direction from Nari, and Tzuyu puts her hand over Jeongin’s chest, shooting a bold grin at the camera.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

Direction. They step away from each other, but Jeongin reaches out for her, and she delicately places her fingers into his open end, both of them longingly staring at their hands.

Your fingers dig into your arms.

Direction. Keeping Tzuyu’s hand in his, Jeongin brings it to his lips and they gaze into each other’s eyes. They look perfect together. They’re both stunning, and you know there’ve been whispers about them on campus already, in no small part because they’re often reunited for these shoots.

But God does it burn in your chest to look at them right now.

“We’re done!” Nari shouts at 1.50 pm. Behind her, the group that’s supposed to get the room at 2 is huffing and puffing, but you don’t think a fucking panzer could have gotten her to clear the space until she was happy with her work.

You should be relieved. You’re not. You won’t be until you’ve locked the door to your room behind you.

“Wanna get a drink to celebrate?” Tzuyu asks Jeongin. Her smile’s back to its usual brightness, now that the tension’s mostly gone.

You start picking up your stuff, but, embarrassingly, you’re very much focused on hearing his answer to that. You wish you wouldn’t be doing that, because that’s not any of your business, yet you can’t seem to help yourself right now.

You probably would have caught it if Nari didn’t stop by your side just then.

“Hey,” she says, “I am really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said that.”

The thing is, you’re pretty sure she meant it then, but now there’s a lightness to her voice that you find… annoying. It seems to you that she’s already moved on and expects you to do the same. Normally you would, but after having spent the last two hours watching the guy you have this stupid, hopeless crush on all over one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, something in you just— snaps.

“I think you’ll have to find someone else next time,” you tell her with a polite smile. Her face falls, and you immediately feel guilty. You shouldn’t. Probably. Should you? Are you being mean? Are you doing something wrong? Does that make you a bad person?

“I— Okay,” she says, and this time her voice’s much softer. She looks down at her feet. “I get it. I know I’m not easy to— Yeah. I’m sorry.”

You thought standing up to her would feel good, that you’d feel Schadenfreude over this moment. This is the furthest thing from that. Actually, you only manage to bite back your own ‘I’m sorry’ at the last second.

“I just— this environment stresses me out,” you still say, speaking too fast. “It’s not really good or fun for me and—”

“Sure. Don’t worry about it.” A deep breath, and then Nari nods at you politely. “Well, I’ll get to cleaning up my stuff.”

And just as you’re replying “Same,” she’s spun around on her heels and started putting the clothes away.

You don’t know where that leaves the two of you, but that reaction makes the moment just a little easier on you.

You wonder, vaguely, if she did that on purpose. You don't linger on the thought though, and you go back to your own program, walking towards your little make-up station to start putting stuff away, getting everything back to its place in your bags. It’s something you slow at, just like you’re slow at setting them up, but it also helps you getting back to your normal self. With every object coming back to where they belong, you can breathe a little easier.

You still notice almost immediately the presence behind you, and you’re not particularly surprised to find Jeongin there. You give him a smile, and gesture at the chair.

“If you give me a second, I can get some of that off your face,” you say as you gesture to him. Camera make-up would look quite strange outside, and he’s been to enough of these things to know that at least as well as you do.

“I heard you told Nari off.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess you, uh, were right.”

That’s not all that happened there, but that will have to do.

When you glance at him, though, he doesn’t look happy about it, a frown barring his expression, and your fragile confidence immediately falters.

“Do you think that was a bad idea…?”

His eyes widen and he's quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all, you did good!” You can’t help but smile at the words. He’s younger than you, but somehow keeps behaving like he’s not. “I just like working with you.” He gives you a sheepish smile, lips pressed together.

“Sit down,” you say like your heart didn't skip a beat, “the least I can do is not let you go out like that.”

So he does, and even though you still have stuff out that you should be taking care of, you lean close to him and get to work once more.

There’ll be other shoots, of course, Nari isn’t the only one who requires your services. In fact, you’re surprised that he’d have thought of that at all. You know that it didn’t cross your mind, probably because you think these moments mostly as fueling your delusions.

The idea that Jeongin could actually enjoy spending time with you hadn’t even occurred to you.

Huh. That might say a thing or two about your self-confidence.

“So, you’re going out with Tzuyu after this?” you ask before your thoughts start running wild.

His eyes open.

“We’re going to get drinks, yeah,” he says, a cautious edge to his voice. “You should come with us, actually.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “I don’t know if she’d be very happy if I did that. Wouldn’t want to third wheel, you know.”

You hope you do a good job of keeping any bitterness out of your voice. You certainly try your best to appear nonchalant, like you’re merely doing small talk while you’re removing his make-up, even if you avoid meeting his eyes, knowing that it would

That might be why it takes you by surprise when Jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist, interrupting you. When you look at him, you find him staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression.

“You wouldn’t third wheel,” he says, which you certainly don’t think warrants all of that.

“It’s fine,” you reply, attempting to joke about it even as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, because you will not be caught dead misreading the situation for something it’s not, “if anything getting a date with Tzuyu is—”

Then, several things happen at once. The hand around your wrist pulls you forward and you stumble, just as his other hand shoots up to cup your face.

And then he’s kissing you.

His mouth is warm, his lips soft, his fingers carding through your hair, and suddenly you’ve lost your balance and you’re half sitting in his lap and any attempt at forming a coherent thought is swallowed by what is happening.

A very, very distant part of your brain is thankful for Nari’s screen, which has been moved to the make-up station to make place for the group that comes after you, but that is only a fleeting thought, because still, Jeongin’s kissing you. His hands are gentle, holding you like you’re a porcelain doll, but his lips are fierce, and you feel, briefly, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His right hand travels from your wrist to your waist, and you’re pulled even closer to him, and now you’re pressed against his chest and all you can think about is how you want more of this.

When he moves away from you, you’re panting, breath short, and you can only stare at him with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the one third-wheeling,” he says.

“What,” you say in response, ever the eloquent one.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair while the other one remains on your hips, not quite squeezing, but not letting go of you either.

“I— thought I’d made it pretty obvious I was interested in you,” he mumbles.

Oh. Uh, yeah, about that…

“I, uh, I assumed it was just wishful thinking,” you admit under your breath. “I mean, we don’t really, uh, talk outside of these shoots.”

He sighs and puts his forehead against yours. Your noses brush, and you’re acutely aware of the fact that you would just have to move a little to kiss him again.

“I— always looked forward to seeing you,” he admits quietly, almost shyly, something you’d never thought you would see, “but you always looked like you wanted to run away when I came up to you in class, so I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable, just— just shy, I think.”

It makes him grin, and you realize that seeing that specific look on his face makes you want to kiss him even more. If you were bolder, you would, especially right now, but you don’t think you can dare to just yet.

It’s fine, though, because he’s the one who kisses you, briefly, tenderly, and then he looks at you like you’re one of the world’s seven wonders.

“Want to go make Tzuyu feel like a third wheel?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.

You laugh, and you can’t know it, but his chest swells with pride when you do.

“And then I can take you on a proper date,” he offers. “If you’d like.”

‘If you’d like,’ he says, and you suspect that he knows exactly how much you’d like that, but you humor him because how could you not.

“I’d love that.”

this was my first time writing for IN and this made me realize that he's probably the member whose personality I'm least sure how to write, so I hope you enjoyed it still and I'll see you tomorrow for Seungmin's part! Any feedback, comment, reblogs or asks are extremely welcome, I may not be able to get to it right away because I'm working on the rest but I they're much appreciated ❤️