#I do feel like I conjured him up because this whole pregnancy I wondered if my pregnancy scare with him in 2010 was actually a miscarriage

[heavywithfire]

While it feels completely BANANAS to wake up to message from That Carney I Dated When I Was In College–a man who I have not spoken to since 2011– it was unsurprising that he asked if I still had a CD we used to listen to and if so, could I send him a copy, so at least I know that after all this time, the motherfucker is still lacks self-awareness.

[laura1633]

I can't stop thinking about 8. with Omega Max and Alpha Charles, except that it's not slick but milk. I'm just a little obsessed with his chest and the thought of him lactating around his crush, oh my

First up for the omegaverse prompt game (I do have lots of your prompts and I will pick through as many as I can)

This was a wonderful adjustment to the prompt anon 😍. I do firstly have to apologise because this did turn into lactation kink which I have no idea how to write 😂

These omegaverse prompts are mostly just going to be rough and ready rather than fully fledged fics so hopefully you will all forgive me for that and still enjoy them for what they are (this one was was a little longer than intended)

Tags: Lactation kink

The first time it had happened Max had assumed it was a coincidence. 

He had been chatting to Charles in some fancy bar when his nipples started tingling and his breasts felt as if they were slowly starting to swell. It was strange. Not strange enough to concern him immediately though. Charles always made him feel funny. Butterflies in his stomach. Slick in his panties. It was only when noticed that there were wet patches forming on the front of his shirt that he had squeaked and scurried off to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

He’d been expecting his top to be damp with sweat so the discovery of milk trickling from his nipples had set off a whole array of alarm bells that resulted in a mad dash down to a late night pharmacy to get his hands on a pregnancy test.

It had come back negative which he really should have known. Other than letting one of his pit crew go down on him after his win in Vegas he hadn’t engaged in any sexual activity for at least the last nine months.  Still, he’d only ever heard of omegas lactating when carrying or nursing a pup so it was worth ruling the possibility out. 

He’d hoped it had been a one off. A bizarre experience that he would laugh about one day, but it kept happening. Over and Over but always around Charles. The Monegasque would only need to smile in his direction and Max would feel slick dripping from his pussy and milk leaking from his tits. He may as well have been melting into a puddle on the floor, it probably would have left less mess. 

He had tried his best to get things under control by himself.  He’d taken to wearing extra layers and using nursing pads to soak up the worst of it. It was only ever masking the problem though,  Charles was still making him leak even if it was now happening under four layers of clothing. So, after much deliberation Max had hauled himself off to a doctor’s to get check out.

He had been expecting a complicated diagnoses. What he had received was an elderly beta doctor looking him square in the eye and asking him if the alpha in question was one he would like to be bred by.  Max had of course, like any self respecting omega, shook his head vigorously in response but the flush of crimson on his face was seemingly more convincing an answer.

It was true. The image of Charles breeding him was one he’d conjured up many nights whilst laying out in bed with a silicone knotting device pushed up inside him. He’d just never expected his fantasies to make his breasts leak. 

The official diagnosis:  On set lactation resulting from an urge to be bred by a particular alpha.

The cure : to talk to said alpha.

The prognosis : Not good. There was not a single chance in hell Max was going to tell Charles that his tits leaked milk whenever he came close. 

And so Max had tried his best to carry on as normal. He joked around with Checo in the garage. He played padel with Lando in Monaco. And he leaked fucking milk out of his tits around Charles.

It had been absolutely fucking fantastic. It had never been as bad as right now though. 

Max fidgets around trying to make himself comfortable as he tries to ignore the fact that he’s been placed right next to Charles at the FIA gala ceremony. Despite all of the omega’s successes he really was starting to feel like the universe hated him.  There seemed no other logical reason why his white shirt was darkening against his nipples as he waited to go up on stage and collect his trophy. 

It really didn’t help that watching the ceremony was about as interesting as watching paint dry.

“You okay?” Oscar leans in from where he’s sat on the other side of Max and gives the Dutch omega a look of concern. 

“Fine. Why?” Max tries to keep his eyes focused on the stage ahead. He’s almost certain that he’s blushing but right now the colour of his cheeks are the least of his problems, Charles’ alpha scent is filling his nostrils and making his tits feel like they’ve swollen to the size of footballs. If it goes on any longer Max’s chest is going to feel so heavy he’ll probably tip over if he tries to stand up. He supposes he will at least have two pillowy breasts full of milk to cushion his fall.

“You’re whining” Oscar says gently as he lets a hand rest on Max’s thigh and gives it a reassuring squeeze, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Just nervous” Max tries his best to smile. If he was going to speak to anyone about his little problem then Oscar wouldn’t be such a bad choice. He doubts the younger Omega would make any huge dramatics out of the situation.

“What’s going on?” Charles leans right across Max to join in the conversation, his earthy scent flooding Max’s nostrils once more and Max is sure that the fabric of his shirt stretches in response to his expanding chest.

“Nothing, just nerves” Oscar gives Max’s thigh another reassuring squeeze before turning his attention back towards the stage.

“This never gets any more interesting does it?” Charles giggles. The alpha is so close that Max can feel the warmth of his breath as he laughs, “We have another hour before it’s our time.” Charles inches himself back in his chair much to Max’s relief. Most of the damage has already been done though, Max’s panties are soaked and he can feel milk trickling down his chest all the way to his stomach. As he chances a glance down he realises that his shirt has turned see through where the material is damp. 

The omega pulls his jacket around himself and tries to hold it across his body. He has at least had the foresight to bring a spare shirt with him to change into before he gets up on stage but he’s determined not to slip into it yet or that will also be drenched by the time his moment in the spotlight arrives. 

It’s starting to feel uncomfortable though. His nipples itch as his shirt rubs against them and his breasts feel heavier each time Charles talks to him. As much as he was hoping to avoid the indignity of having to try and milk himself in a bathroom stall he’s not sure he has much choice. If his breasts swell any further his shirt is going to rip at the seems. 

“We should maybe go for some food or something afterwards?” Charles mumbles quietly against Max’s ear. Unfortunately Max’s response is a lot less discreet, the omega keens happily but his happiness is short lived as he feels another gush of milk leak from his left breast and he’s quickly brought back down to reality. He can’t sit opposite Charles in s restaurant in this state. 

He’s pretty certain that other people must have noticed something odd going on. The milk doesn’t have the strongest smell but there is something rather soapy about the aroma and the scent is starting to spread outwards. The omega jumps up from his chair and sprints out the room as quickly as he can as he bolts towards the bathroom and shuts himself away in a stall. 

Shit.

When Max slides off his jack and looks down to see what the damage is he finds his shirt soaked at the front. None of this seems remotely fair.

“Max? Are you in there?”

Max yelps as he hears Charles’ voice and his breasts tingle and expand on cue like some unwanted new party trick.

“Did I upset you? Sorry I didn’t mean to. We don’t have to go out, I just thought - “ Charles trails off and Max realises its because he is whining loudly from where he has shut himself inside the toilet cubicle, “Max I think you need to let me in or I need to go get Oscar or - “ 

“No” Max whimpers, “Please, it is  just - “ The omega sighs as he tries to work out what he can possibly say that will explain this all away. There isn’t anything though.  He’s a complete and utter mess. There is one thing he is certain of above all else, he can’t go on like this. The thought makes him want to sob. The omega steels himself before opening up the door and coming face to face with Charles. 

“Max -“ 

“I had a sort of accident.” Max mumbles. His jacket and bowtie still hung on the back of the door leaving his crinkled wet shirt on full display as it stretches wet across the broadness of his chest. 

“Oh my god” Charles immediately shuffles himself into the stall and closes the door behind him, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“It’s milk” Max keens helplessly.

“You’re pregnant?! Who got you pregnant?” Charles’ eyes darken as his chest puffs out. 

“I’m not pregnant!” Max reaches out and runs his hands over his stomach to show how flat it is and then, because he can’t hold it in any longer, he blurts out the secret he has been trying to hold in for so long, “This is because of you.”

Charles freezes. He looks surprised, startled, confused. 

All of which Max thinks are perfectly valid repossess to an omega telling you that you are the reason they are currently lactating. 

“Me?” Charles’ mouth opens and closes a few times as if he’s trying to elaborate on his question. Instead he just settles on repeating himself “Me?”

“I always do it when you are close to me. Always with the milk and the swelling and the tingling,“ Max pauses before starting to babble to fill up the silence once more, “My body wants you to breed me.”

It’s not an eloquent explanation. Nor is it the way Max had wanted to explain his little affliction to Charles. 

“You want me to breed you?”

“My body wants you to breed me?” Max tries to draw some sort of distinction between his brain and his body. In reality they are both pretty much on the same page, Max goes all mushy brained whenever Charles is close and he’d quite happily let the alpha fill him with one or two tiny Leclerc pups if Charles was up for it.

“I don’t understand.” 

“Whenever you talk to me or smile at me or come near me this happens” Max looks down to the ever growing wet circles around his nipples, “It is because I want you.”

Max’s breath catches as he hears the low rumble coming from Charles. The alpha’s scent has shifted again, it’s not sour notes this time, it’s thick and warm enough to make Max want to melt right into Charles’ arms.

And Charles - 

Well, Charles doesn’t look immediately put off by all this. 

“Does it hurt?” Charles lifts his hand and reaches towards Max’s chest but stops short of actually touching the omega much to Max’s dissatisfaction. Max lets out an unhappy little sound and tries to push his chest towards where Charles’ hand is lingering. It’s in that moment that Max finally accepts that when it comes to Charles he has almost no control over what his body does. He’s just a walking ball of hormones falling apart every time he is close to the most handsome alpha he has ever seen. 

Charles cups his hand against Max’s breast and the omega tries his best to bite back a desperate whine as his shirt rubs agains this erect nipple. 

“Shhh it’s okay” Charles coos softly, “You want me to help you get cleaned up?”

Max nods meekly as he lets Charles slowly start to unbutton his shirt. There is a steady rumbling coming from the alpha now. Louder and louder. The vibration like an engine revving. Max is sure that the only time he’s ever made an alpha rumble this loud before was when their cock was inside him.

“Fuck” Charles growls as he eases the shirt off and soothes his hands over Max’s breasts . There’s still milk trickling down, his skin sticky and wet. Yet far from looking disgusted Charles is licking right across his lips. Max tries not to let himself get carried away by trying to work out what exactly that means.

“This is all because of me?” Charles growls again, low and possessive. The alpha’s hand cups and squeezes against Max’s right breast and the trickle of milk starts to build in to a stream. 

“For you” Max mumbles but the words come out as little more than a breathy moan as he sees the milk dripping down over Charles’ fingers and hand, white liquid splashing against the Monegasque’s jewellery. It feels so obscene yet Charles’ eyes are just widening in fascination and he’s bringing his own fingers to his mouth to lick them clean.  

Max holds his breath. The milk tastes sweet. Sugary even. Max knows because he tasted it in one of his weaker moments. Charles’ tongue licks over his fingers again, lapping up the last few drops that have dripped down to his knuckles. 

“You taste beautiful” Charles looks up, his eyes flickering as they meet Max’s gaze, “so good.”

Max feels his skin tingle. His chest tight. Body vibrating. He tries to hold as still as possible. Nothing feels real.  The lactating. The sight of Charles licking milk off his fingers. The sound of clapping and cheering filtering in from the room next door. It’s like a fever dream. 

Charles puts his hand back on Max’s tits, massaging and cupping the flesh and watching the way the drops of milk form and then drip down. 

“This is - “ Charles squeezes again and watches another bead of milk form, “Fuck you’re so pretty. Such a pretty omega.”

Max’s legs shake as Charles leans closer and starts to lap up the milk that is falling down over the curve of his breast. The alpha’s tongue is warm and wet against his skin. 

The omega arches his back and pushes his chest closer to Charles’ mouth. He has never been an overly dominant omega when it comes to sex, he prefers to encourage rather than demand but his hands are twitching by his side as he considers tangling his fingers into Charles’ hair and pulling the alpha down on to his nipple. 

“All for me?” Charles looks up and grins excitedly as he runs his tongue around where Max wants it. The movement slow, deliberate, in control. 

It’s too much. Not enough. Max isn’t even sure anymore. He’s leaking from more than just his chest, his panties are soaked and there’s slick racing down his thighs. 

“Please” Max’s voice is breathless, his cheeks burning red as he watches Charles’ mouth close around his nipple. The alpha latches on and Max groans happily at the sudden rush of relief and pleasure he feels. 

Charles sucks the nipple in his mouth and pulls off with a wet slurping popping sound, his lips now glistening wet. 

With milk.

With Max’s milk.

With Max’s milk that he’s just sucked out of his body. 

“Alpha!” Max whimpers and arches his back as Charles dives back in, this time massaging his hands against the flesh as he purses his lips and sucks more firmly. Over and over until Max can feel the milk spurting right into the alpha’s mouth. 

It makes him feel light headed. His nipples seem to have a direct line to his pussy. Each time Charles sucks and flicks out his tongue Max feels the sensation go right through his body until there is more and more slick gushing out of him. His tits throb. His clit throbs. His toes curls in his shoes. The sight of Charles attached to his tit - lapping, sucking, wet and filthy - makes him whine unashamedly. 

Charles pulls back to take another breath, the alpha panting, milk dripping down off the roughness of his stubble. When he goes back in he goes for the other breast, mouthing around the area before wrapping his lips around the nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

Max almost buckles this time, his legs barely keeping him upright. 

Charles is growling around him. One of the alpha’s hands cupped to his breast and the other - 

The other is - 

Oh 

Max moans and throws his head back as Charles’ hand dips below the waistband of his trousers and down into his panties. The alphas fingers brush lightly against his clit. The faintest and briefest of touches before Max is coming, his whole body spasming as he feels another spurt of milk shooting into Charles’ mouth and sees it drip down from side of the alpha’s lips. 

His body feels lighter. Floaty. Wet. So, so wet. 

Charles groans as he pulls back. His pupils blown. Face damp. He look stunning. Hair ruffled. Cheeks red. 

Max lets his own instincts take over as he gets his hands into Charles’ hair and pulls the alpha into a kiss. It tastes sweet as he licks up and into Charles’ mouth and tastes his own milk. 

Charles is hard, the alpha’s cock pushed against Max’s leg. Nice and big as it presses into the fleshy part of the omega’s thigh. Max can’t help but wonder how much bigger it gets when it knots. The thought alone makes his breasts tingle. 

“Forget going for dinner” Charles tugs at Max’s bottom lip with his teeth, “Come back to my hotel with me.” 

Max nods without hesitation. His body is already dripping all over, his pussy slick wet and ready to take the alpha’s knot, milk still dripping down over the curves of his breasts and down the contours of his body. 

He’s not ashamed anymore though. How can he be when he sees how much it’s turning Charles on. If anything he realises that maybe it’s been some sort of courting ritual all along. His body providing something his alpha wants. Because Charles is surely his now. Fully and completely. 

“Perfect little omega” Charles praises, his eyes wild as he goes back to smothering Max’s chest with warm wet kisses. 

Max closes his eyes and purrs as he hears the low possessive growl Charles makes as he continues to lick up the milk made solely for him. 

[nanagoswife]

Please, Don't Go. - Chapter 16

Summary: Obi-Wan is coming back

W/C: 3.3k

Warnings: implied intimacy, angst

A/N: Good news! I'm back with this story. I've had this chapter written for a while, but I felt it was best to wait until I picked it back up before posting it. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

- - -

In the next weeks, Obi-Wan spent almost all of his nights with you and Aldoken. It provided your son with something to do when you had to focus on work before joining them.

There were a few days where you would be so backed up that Obi-Wan would put Aldoken to bed. He was a natural. You always knew when he would because the almost constant sounds of giggles died down, plunging the apartment into silence.

On those nights, Obi-Wan would wait before coming up behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, and coax you into coming with him to bed. Many times, he would insist that you needed sleep. He would bend down and kiss your cheek and gently massage your shoulders until you finally gave in.

That’s why, when you hadn’t been visited by Obi-Wan after the rooms went silent, you were surprised that this routine had been changed. Now, you looked on as Obi-Wan was laying on the couch with Aldoken fast asleep on his stomach on top of Obi-Wan’s chest.

Your heart warmed at the sight as you leaned against the doorway. You didn’t want to ruin the scene, but you didn’t have to. Obi-Wan’s eyes slowly opened when he heard you take a few steps into the room.

“Decide to join the party?” he asked quietly in a teasing tone. Despite wanting to talk to you, he still made sure that he wouldn’t disturb Aldoken. Although it may have seemed like he was asleep, Obi-Wan was truly just laying there. Something was keeping him wide awake, and he didn’t know what.

Giving a light chuckle, you made your way over and knelt beside the couch. Aldoken had his clone doll hugged closely as the other hand was wrapping around his father as best as he could.

Bringing up a hand, you gently brushed away some hair from your son’s sleeping face. “I actually thought I was coming out here to tuck you both into bed,” you replied, moving your hand to place it on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

He chuckled softly then gestured to the boy on his chest with his head. “Would you be able to help me?”

Nodding, you stood and gently lifted Aldoken just enough so that Obi-Wan could sit up. Once he did, he took care of the rest. You watched him bring Aldoken over to his room, and you were sure that he didn’t even stir the whole time.

While you had waited, you shifted from your crouch to sitting on the sofa. Obi-Wan joined you after softly closing Aldoken’s door behind him.

He sat close and you let your head fall against his shoulder.

“How come you hadn’t fallen asleep?”

The question was intended to be innocent, but, when you looked up at him, there was a serious expression across his face.

“Obi-Wan?” As you sat up and placed a palm to his cheek, he snapped back to the moment, slightly shaking his head.

“I’m sorry darling. What did you say?”

You frowned as he tried to play it off with a smirk. You moved so that you could face him, and he knew his façade wasn’t going to work. So, he let the fake smile drop.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask with genuine concern. Was there something that happened with the Sith Lord? But Obi-Wan had said that he wasn’t needed for anything; that he was on free rein and didn’t have to report to him for a while.

Obi-Wan knew that you were concerned about that, but it’s not what he was thinking about. He wasn’t thinking of anything that lay outside of this apartment. He was thinking of you and what you would say if he brought this topic up. Although he knew you wouldn’t push him away because of this, he still thought that you may not agree to it.

He shook his head, “No, nothing’s wrong.”

Looking down, this was the first time since coming back that he actually saw it. In the almost two months since he’s come back, he never saw how the necklace still wrapped around your neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was because you had always kept it hidden like before, or if you weren’t wearing it until now.

He let his fingers drift down until the kyber crystal was between his fingers. The familiar energy of his first crystal tingled the ends of his fingertips as they grazed along the surface. Obi-Wan wondered if you could feel any bit of the energy, even without being force sensitive.

“Have you always worn this? Even during…” he trailed off. He didn’t want to even mention it anymore. It brought on thoughts that his mind could no longer handle in a moment like this.

“Yes,” you say, comfortingly drawing your thumb in circles over his cheek bone. “Like I had said, I never stopped loving you, Obi.”

With that, he smiled. Maybe you wouldn’t laugh at what he wanted to do.

Carefully, he moved both of his hands close to the necklace’s clasp but stopped short. “May I?”

Since you had a feeling you knew what he was about to do, you nodded. The feeling of his hands at the back of your neck almost sent chills down your spine, but you suppressed them at the moment. There would be a time for that, and it wasn’t right now.

When he lifted it away and now held the pendant in his palm, he couldn’t help but feel certain in his next decision. He wanted to come back to you, and this felt like one of the final steps to putting the puzzle of his life back together.

Obi-Wan moved and kneeled on the ground in front of you. In one hand he held the necklace and the other held one of your hands.

As he looked down at the pendant, he smiled to himself. This necklace had meant so much more than anyone would have thought.

“Y/N,” he started. You had been watching him the entire time with anticipation only building as this went on. “I’ve always felt like I didn’t deserve you. I still don’t feel like I do,” he said, then moved his eyes to meet yours. “But I never let that stop me. I always strive to be what you deserve, and I haven’t met that in recent years. When you let me come back, I made it my priority once again. And now, here we are.”

The hand that held yours moved so that you would now rest your palm on top of the pendant. Making it now cupped between both your hand and his, like it was a promise. One he wouldn’t break as he used an item of the force to bring it to life.

“I don’t expect you to ever agree, but I still want to be in your life. I want to be in our life again. I also know that, in your heart, you never severed this promise. Still, I want to ask one more time in our new life to make sure that your answer is still the same.”

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he took a deep breath. The build up has been killing you. You wanted to just scream out yes and kiss him like you never would again, but you knew he had to get this out.

Finally, he asked the question you’ve been wanting to hear, “Y/N, even after all of this, will you still marry me?”

“Yes,” you said in a breath.

Smiling, he once again put the necklace around your neck.

“I still hope to get you an actual ring one day,” he said quietly just as he clasped the pendant back. When he pulled back, you gave him a warm smile as you placed a hand to his cheek. His eyes shifted between both of your eyes before leaning in.

It didn’t take long before he was kissing you. There was an intensity behind it that you hadn’t experienced in so long. It was one you fully returned as you felt heat flood to your stomach.

You were so wrapped up in the feel of his lips against yours that you hadn’t noticed as he positioned himself to lift you from your seat. As he stood, you wrapped your arms around his neck as your legs went around his waist.

When you felt his arms around you, resting on your back, a longing filled you. It has been so long since you and Obi-Wan shared a moment like this. After you had found out you were pregnant, nothing had really happened after that. Obi-Wan was worried it would somehow hinder something in the pregnancy.

Now, you were swept up in it all. The feeling as his lips and tongue moved with yours, his body pressed up against yours as he walked to the bedroom, his hand, that wasn’t supporting you, exploring your back until he started to undo your dress.

Once he walked in the room and the door had closed, he stopped, slowly pulling away to look in your eyes.

“Is this alright?”

“Stars, yes,” you said before pulling his face back to yours. He didn’t waste much more time, and neither did you as a trail of clothing from the door to the bed was left in your wake. The feel of his skin against yours was a relief that you hadn’t known you needed.

Just like it had always been with Obi-Wan, he always made his love known. Everything he did, whether it was this moment or making you tea before you woke up, it all showed his love for you.

He always said that he didn’t deserve you, but you often thought about how you didn’t deserve him. In the end it didn’t matter. You had him back. He had you back. Most of all, the two of you loved each other.

-

“I have a favour to ask,” Obi-Wan suddenly said. The two of you had been reading your own books on datapads, you curled under his arm in bed, before this. You had noticed that he had lost focus at one point, but it had been normal. Usually, he had to plan an excuse for the Sith Lord just in case.

Looking up, he kept his eyes on the datapad, although it was unfocused.

“What is it?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He’s been going over this for days after his reunion with Cody. It gave him hope that there would be more than his previous clone commander who would welcome him back.

For a moment longer, he contemplated asking you of this. There wasn’t much you would say no to, he knew that. It was the fact that it relied on another’s reaction. Along with that, thousands of other reactions after he made himself completely known.

Despite having worries, his head and heart agreed in every scenario that he conjured up. He needed help, more help, and that started with you.

“I was wondering if you could try and get Anakin here,” he finally replied while moving his eyes to yours. If you were being honest, you were surprised he hadn’t asked this sooner. With the moments leading up to this, you knew it was because he was scared. He was scared that his old padawan would reject his return.

With a smile, you nodded, “Of course, Obi. Why do you seem so hesitant?”

That was a question he was expecting. It was one that he went over a lot. There were so many different ways he could answer, but one always came out on top.

“I’m afraid he’ll ask why I didn’t go to him sooner.”

A wave of understanding came over you. Even though you knew what he meant, you also knew something he didn’t. Anakin was fine with it.

One day, you had received a long winded apology from Padmé saying that she had let something slip. Assuring her that it was alright, you went over and met with Anakin who was desperate to see Obi-Wan again.

“Anakin,” you said softly while gently holding him by his shoulders, “he needs time.”

“You said that he’s been back for almost three months-”

You cut him off by placing a hand on his cheek. Ever since he was still a small padawan, this was your way of telling him to quiet down and listen before assuming things.

“He has. But he’s still healing,” your continued your soft tone. It was another thing you did that would guarantee he would listen. “It took him nearly a month before he truly came back to me. Give him time, and he’ll decide when he’s ready. I know you miss him, but he needs to go at his own pace. He’ll come around.”

Anakin looked into your eyes with a sad but understanding expression. It was always hard for him to argue with you. Besides, you knew him in ways Anakin didn’t. Unlike you, he still saw his former master like a sort of hero. It kept his attention away from the finer details of Obi-Wan’s personality that you were an expert in.

Once Anakin nodded, you gave an affectionate squeeze to his shoulder before pulling him into an embrace.

“Trust me, I’ll let you know when he’s ready,” you whispered.

Anakin gave a small squeeze before separating himself from your hug. Giving you a smile, he had gone back to the temple.

Ever since that day, Anakin kept his promise. The only other person that knew Obi-Wan was back was Kenth. That interaction was one filled with relief, and one where Baize had accepted that he was wrong. It was anticlimactic, in a way.

Back in the current moment, you gave Obi-Wan a comforting smile. “It will be fine, my dear. He already knows you’ve come back.”

Seeing his shocked expression, you told him about the day filled with Padmé’s frantic messages until you went to talk to Anakin. You made sure to reassure him that his former padawan hadn’t said a word to anyone. The only time he said anything about it, it was with you and Padmé. He didn’t even know that Cody knew.

“So, he’s not mad?” Obi-Wan asked in the most innocent voice you had ever heard from him. It was a tone so mixed with relief, that you saw the storm of concern in his eyes wash away to the calming ocean they were.

“No. He understands. Anakin has been waiting patiently… Well, maybe not patiently, but the closest he can get.”

As you were hoping, that earned a laugh from Obi-Wan. It ended in a relief filled sigh.

“Now, let’s get some sleep. I’ll contact him in the morning and I’m certain he’ll get here right after so rest is recommended.”

Obi-Wan smiled as he looked down at you when you pulled the blanket up over your shoulders. “Alright, my love. Thank you.”

After this, the two of you situated yourselves so that you were comfortably wrapped up in the other. You found comfort in your usual spot against his chest and you used the sound of his heartbeat as a sort of lullaby.

This was what you were going to do, until you noticed that Obi-Wan still had some tension in his body. Sneaking a look at his face, his eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling. His fingers had also found their way under your shirt and were tracing little circles on the skin of your back.

“There’s still something else that’s bothering you about the visit,” you state.

“Hm? Oh, no. I didn’t mean to disrupt you.”

You pushed yourself up so that you could hang over Obi-Wan, forcing his eyes to meet yours in the low light of the Coruscanti night.

“Obi-Wan, you should know by now that I know when you’re lying,” you said in a lightly teasing tone.

Although he gave a small smirk, it fell almost as quickly as it appeared. For a moment longer, he looked back up at the ceiling. You knew he was trying to put it all together in his mind, so you gave him the time he needed.

It was always interesting to see his thinking process. His furrowed brow that created the adorable little line in between them, the lines just visible at the corners of his eyes, the way his eyes squinted the slightest bit as his lips formed a thin line, sometimes pulled slightly down in the corners, it was all cute in a way. With it all, you knew when he was even just thinking lightly on something. It just wasn’t as intense of a look.

You couldn’t help but think that this was just his general look for when he was focused. It was softer depending on what he was focusing on. It was accompanied by a look of adoration whenever he would look down as he hung over you…

Those weren’t the thoughts to be having right now. At the current moment, there may be something that you should be worried about and he was about to tell you.

Obi-Wan sighed, “I want to ask him if he’ll help me take down Sidious.”

You couldn’t help but freeze. You knew that this moment would come, but you still weren’t expecting it.

“Are you alright?” He knew you were worried, but the change in your expression was enough for him to ask. Usually, you would keep a neutral expression, even after something that would gain immediate reactions from everyone else, until you had truly thought about it.

You went to nod, but you stopped yourself. If you were to say that you were thrilled that he was going to put a full end to this madness, you would be lying. There were so many things that added together to make the moment worrisome, and you had just recently returned to how you were before all of this.

First of all, Sidious was the man at the head of the Republic. Sure, even Padmé had her suspicions, but there’s so many people that love him. Then, there’s the fact that Obi-Wan needed help. And then the only help that was properly qualified for this action was a group that could possibly arrest or maybe even kill him for what he had done.

The most troublesome of them all was that you could possibly lose your fiancé again. Only, this time, you were scared for the more permanent possibility. You knew that Obi-Wan was no longer seeking revenge on the Sith, but it would be impossible to negotiate with only words. This would guarantee that there would be a fight and, depending on what kind of help he gets, can end in the least favourable way.

Obi-Wan watched these thoughts cross over your expression. He could also feel the rapid changes of your emotions that only confirmed what he believed you were thinking.

To try and calm you, he brought a hand to your cheek and used the one on your back to pull you down closer. When your head made its position on his chest, he kissed your temple and rubbed your back comfortingly.

“I love you, Y/N. I won’t leave you again,” he said, muffled against your hair. “No matter what.”

The finality in his words made you relax. It was something that you hadn’t realized you needed to hear.

“Alright,” you whispered as you felt the tug of sleep pulling your eyelids closed as you laid on top of Obi-Wan’s chest. You felt him press one more lingering kiss to your head before you drifted off.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Masterlist

Based on the response to this post. :) Oh, yes, we’re doing the thing.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Chapter One: The First

I am trying to keep my hands from shaking while I’m holding the test strip. There’s one pink line, and I’m waiting to see if there will be two. I think I already know the answer, but I’m holding my breath like it’ll make time go faster anyway.

If I ever imagined this moment, which I don’t remember ever doing, but if I did, I would have imagined it like the commercials that would run in the background when my mom would watch tv while she cooked dinner. If those were to be believed, I was supposed to be in an all-white, pristine, upper-middle-class bathroom, gasping with tears of joy while I hid my pearly white smile behind trembling fingers. My partner would be hugging me from behind, elated and definitely not about to make any crude jokes about the virulence of his sperm.

None of this is happening.

I am in a Target bathroom stall, surrounded by Target-red walls. Cardan, my husband and the High King of Elfhame, is on the other side of the red walls, trying to distract himself with the automatic paper towel dispensers. He’s waving his hand in front of it every couple of seconds; I can hear it each time the motor dispenses paper. I wonder how long of a trail he’s created at this point, but it’s the least of my worries.

“Cardan, you’re wasting paper,” I tell him anyway. He does it again once more; I can practically feel his petulant glare through the wall.

“How long is this meant to take?” he asks.

“It’s only been thirty seconds,” I tell him. “It takes two minutes.”

“I will die of old age by then,” Cardan mutters to himself, which I know he finds funny, because he’s immortal, and he waves his hand by the paper towel dispenser again.

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Cardan had not been keen on this particular trip to Target, which is saying a lot, because he’s usually so fond of it. He had wanted to cut our trip to the mortal world short, head back to Elfhame and its royal healers and midwives and have me submit to their inquiries and tests, as all queens and lovers of the High Kings of Elfhame have before me.

But I just needed a minute to think. I needed to process this, with Cardan alone, and face the impossibly difficult questions we’ve been avoiding since this became a question. And if this is true, if I really am with child, with Cardan’s child, I don’t want the first people to know to be a bunch of faerie midwives. I want to tell Vivi and Heather. I want Taryn to know first. And I am filled with loathing when I think about how protected and insulated I’m about to become when the healers and midwives know. How the people will cease to see me as their High Queen and rather as the incubator for their Prince.

I want to eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. This is all happening so fast.

I glance back at the test strip. Stand and flush the toilet. Step out of the red walls.

Cardan’s raised his dark eyebrows, his hand arrested halfway to the paper towel dispenser again.

“Well?” He looks guarded, unsure of how he’s supposed to be reacting. I hand him the test and step up to the sink, turning on the water to wash my hands. I can see him in the mirror behind me, in his tight pants and boots, The Ramones T-shirt he’s borrowed from Vivi. He’s turning the test over and over in his hands, like he can’t tell which way is up. Same, honestly. My head feels like it’s detached from my body.

“It’s yes,” is the only dumb thing I manage to mutter as I soap up my fingers. Just like the commercials.

“How can you tell?” Cardan’s only looking more confused.

“The two lines.” I turn off the water and tear off part of Cardan’s paper towel train. “The two pink lines mean yes.”

Cardan looks up at me. His chest is hitching in shallow breaths.

“We should be celebrating,” he says, but it comes out like he’s trying to convince himself. So he tries again, squaring up his shoulders with a bit more enthusiasm. “We should be celebrating.”

“Mhmm,” I try to agree with a tight nod. I think I’m going to be sick. Again. Cardan searches my face, his gold-rimmed eyes flitting over the lip I’m worrying away at.

“You do not appear to be particularly celebratory,” he points out, but, then, neither does he. His cheekbones are tingeing red.

“It happened so fast, don’t you think?” My voice sounds almost breathless. It feels like a relief to point out, and that relief is contagious. Cardan’s shoulders sag a little bit as he lets out a breath.

“Lightning fast,” he agrees. He’s white-knuckling the pregnancy test.

“Careful -- I peed on that,” I point out, and, as if I’ve instead told him it’s on fire, Cardan hurls it into the trash with a disgusted huff.

I think for a moment about fishing it back out again, the only bit of evidence that I have that what’s going on inside of me is real. That the legacy we wished first wished for together in the dark, in each other’s arms, not even a month ago, is happening now and fast and there’s no going back. The time for second-guessing was over.

But a disconcerting combination of nausea and hunger hit me in the gut all at once, and I’m reminded that I have plenty of evidence and I’m only going to get more. If I really want to, I’ll just pee on another stick later.

“I need Starbucks,” I spout at the same moment Cardan sighs, “I need a drink.” And we share a quick smile.

At there’s still this. This has not changed.

And I should be enjoying that as we leave the bathroom and Cardan lifts the glamour he’d left at the door to give us some privacy. The “Out of Order” sign vanishes. But instead, I’m thinking of everything that is going to change. Of everything that ought to change, immediately, if at all possible.

I find myself unconsciously reaching for Cardan’s hand, and when I grab his palm and entwine our fingers, he’s squeezing mine back, hard. He knows. The worries and arguments past are resurfacing in his mind, too, and, for a moment, he wordlessly anchors himself to me.

We’re walking past customer service, following the alluring scent trail of coffee and baked goods, as I began to look at the other moms shopping. Their cute messy buns and their athleisure, pushing expensive strollers while their kids gnaw on the season’s latest teethers. And I’m struck, once again, by how much I don’t know.

Really, what are we doing here? Of all the people in all the realms, I think we are the last two people who ought to be becoming parents.

For one, I am an unrepentant murderer. Raised by an unrepentant murderer. Who murdered my own mother in front of me. This is not a person who ought to be cradling newborns.

And Cardan? The twice-cursed High King of Elfhame? Raised by house cats, beaten nightly by his own brother. Simultaneously spoiled and neglected. Is such a person even capable of cradling newborns?

And we’re about to be parents. I need to be reading more, I think. I need to have a plan. We never made a plan. We hadn’t had time to make a plan.

I pause a moment near the checkout lines, pulling Cardan to a stop beside me.

“I’m going to buy a few things first,” I decide in that moment. “Vitamins. Maybe some parenting books.”

“I don’t see the point,” Cardan retorts, straight-faced. “We have plenty of house cats.”

I narrow my eyes up at him as he smirks.

“That joke will be hilarious in a few weeks,” he tells me. “Just you wait.”

“I really doubt it,” I frown, and he’s still smirking when he drops my hand, stepping in front of me.

“My darling Jude,” he cups my face in his hands, and for a moment, his face is all I’m seeing. His expression is soft and tender across his beautiful features, and if our child is even half as good as looking, I am going to struggle to not let it have its way in all things. Or I’m going to want to strangle it. Some days, it’s a coin toss.

“You are the most fearsome and glorious creature I have ever had the privilege to behold,” Cardan is telling me. I’m struck once again by the marvel that he can’t lie and what he is saying must be true. In our five years of marriage, it is still sometimes hard to believe.

“And you will be the most fearsome and glorious mother,” he goes on. “I could not conjure up a more perfect mother for my offspring if I tried.”

“I think that says more about your lack of imagination than anything else,” I quip, but my cheeks are smiling in his hands regardless. He smirks back and quickly kisses me on the lips, once, twice.

“I am happy at this news,” he reassures me, as if he has sensed this whole time how overcome I am.

“I am, too,” I say, and I mean it. Truly. I’m a mixing bowl of emotions. My gaze drifts toward the store. “But we do need parenting books…”

Cardan kisses me quick one last time before releasing my face.

“I will procure your coffee,” he says, taking a step back, and it’s impossible not to look him over, his long, lean body in tight, black pants and worn t-shirt, his messy, black curls around the points of his ears. I have modern science to thank for keeping my womb empty these last five years. Chastity certainly had nothing to do with it.

“And Cardan?” I call after him. He turns. “A cake pop, too?” I ask, already in the clutches of a craving.

He looks intrigued.

“Is that what it sounds like?” he asks.

“Ball of cake on a stick,” I explain, kind of gesturing with my hands as if it will help. Cardan nods, determined.

“Then we will be needing several,” he declares before heading off toward the smell of coffee.

I shoulder the bag I borrowed from Heather and then stuff my hands into the pockets of the yellow sundress I’m wearing, one of a few mortal things of my own I keep at Vivi and Heather’s for visits. I’m on my way to the books section when I start to slow down near a display of newborn onesies.

It isn’t as though I never wanted to be a mother. I supposed there would come a day when I would have acquired all the knowledge one needed to be a mother, and then I would, I don’t know, award myself a medal or a pin and be declared Ready.

Taryn hadn’t been Ready. She would be the first to admit that. Not that I don’t love my niece with my entire heart. But Taryn’s daughter was a handful. Little Eva had been colicky and prone to getting her days and nights confused. For that entire first year, every time we saw Taryn, it seemed she faded a little more: the bags under her eyes greying, her auburn hair growing longer and frayed, everything but her breasts shrinking in size. Of course, it wasn’t permanent. Eva learned to sleep eventually, and to walk and eat and use a toilet, and, now that she was a robust and energetic five-year-old, Taryn was more like herself than she’d been in years.

Still. That first year, though.

Time and time again, Cardan and I would exchange glances while Eva squealed and squalled. It was always a silent No, thank you, please passing between us. We’re just fine without, thank you. Between the battle for the crown and undoing a curse, we’d had quite enough excitement, and so I eagerly welcomed Vivi regularly smuggling me little moon-shaped packets of pink pills from the mortal world. I took them each morning, like clockwork, with relish – it meant I could enjoy my freedom, our freedom as long as I wanted.

I’m not sure what happened in me. One day, I was calling it freedom. The next, it felt like an empty vessel.

We’d gone to visit Taryn and Eva at their estate for a summer solstice brunch. Vivi and Heather had come, and The Ghost was there, too, swapping stories and laughing with Vivi. I’d stepped out onto the terrace to call in Eva for food when I’d spotted Cardan. He was helping Eva climb up a tree, holding her hand while she balanced on a branch. Her wild fox hair was blowing in the late morning breeze that carried her giggle up to the house. Then she leapt at him with a delighted squeal, and he caught her and spun her around so that she squealed some more. And that look of sheer joy on his face when she did. His unguarded laugh echoed up through the grassy hills. I felt my heart crack open.

No, thank you, please suddenly felt very unadvised.

“What have I done to deserve such a face?” Cardan asked me, leaving a lingering kiss close to my ear. I guess I was looking a little amorous when he and Eva came inside. Little Eva was trotting off to the kitchens as I wound my fingers against the buttons of Cardan’s doublet, keeping him close for a moment longer.

“You looked happy,” I said as his hands slid around my waist. I looked up into his dark eyes, warm only for me, and saw he was smiling. “You looked like you liked doing fatherly things.”

He pulled me a little closer, a little tighter.

“I think I did,” he admitted, perhaps hardly believing it himself.

And then it happened. The unspoken shift, the change in the air. It seemed to crackle in the space between our gaze, and it took a fair bit of restraint to not pull him into the nearest coat closet and tear off his clothes. Taryn was calling us anyway. The servants had set the table, and no one would be seated until we had taken our chairs, even in this little family arrangement. Taryn was set on Eva learning courtly manners by example.

Courtly manners. By example. Taryn had the best intentions for Eva, but the phrases make me snort even now while I peruse baby clothes in Target. What example did we set in Faerie? One of murder and deceit and betrayal and lewd behavior.

The same day that I’d watched Cardan play with Eva, he abruptly ended dinner in the palace’s great hall to hoist me into his arms and carry me out, away from every one’s gaze, away from even the guards.

“What has gotten into you?” I kicked my feet and pounded at his shoulders – not particularly hard. Look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t a game now. I could cause damage if I wanted to. I don’t.

Cardan set me on my feet, only to seize my waist in one arm. We stumbled into an alcove in the wall as his head dipped to my neck, his other hand catching us against the wall. Delighted shivers danced down my arms as his lips brushed the spot below my ear, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp.

“You couldn’t lie to me now even if you wanted to, wife,” Cardan murmured, kissing my ear. He wasn’t wrong. I ran my hands up his deep blue velvet doublet to his shoulders, and bent into his embrace. His hands began to roam my waist, my hips, pulling at my skirts.

“I’ll tell you whatever you like if you’ll keep doing this,” I whispered back, flushing. When he pulled back from my throat, there was a wicked, sneaking smile on his reddening lips.

“You don’t despise the thought of bearing my children,” he said, like it’s a revelation. I blinked. Had he been thinking about our previous exchange all day?

“I despise the thought of bearing any children,” I clarified. “It’s not some honor unique to you.”

Cardan gasped as if he was wounded.

“You could not have cut me deeper,” he teased, as I wound my fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I thought I was special.”

“You are,” I said, tugging at his hair. “Because if I’m to bear any children at all, I would like them to be yours.”  

The smile that spread over his face then was far from wicked. Cardan was flushed and delighted in a way few got to see, and his arms squeezed around me, lifting me to him as he crushed his lips to mine.

“Cardan,” I laughed against his fevered kisses, my cheeks hurting. “I didn’t mean right this second.”

His lips were swollen when he pulled back, the pupils of his gold-rimmed eyes blown wide.

“Then practice with me,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Like swordplay. You’re always saying I’m rubbish at practicing.”

“You really are,” I gasped against his mouth.

In the last five years, I’ve grown no better at resisting the pull of his desire. If anything, I’m only worse. I couldn’t think straight there in his arms. I wanted to drown in his contagious idealism. I wanted to be set aflame by his soft lips and his body against mine.

With my arms thrown over his shoulders, his lips slid against mine, over and over, our hearts pounding in time together. And then he lifted me off my toes so that he could push us both through our bedchamber door.

A shoe slipped from my foot, and he stumbled over it, kicked it to the side, without releasing my waist. Only when the back of my legs pressed against the bedframe did he pull back from my mouth, breathless. And then he pushed me back onto the bed.

I stretched out on the lush duvet, my whole body thrumming as my heart battered my ribcage. But when I looked up at his face there at the foot of the bed, his expression had darkened in the candlelight.

“What is it?” I pushed myself up to my elbows. “Why are you stopping?”

Cardan suddenly looked as if he was at war with himself. Even though his chest still heaved, he inched to the bed and stepped back again, his dark brows furrowing together.

“Cardan…?” I sat up, alarmed at his hesitation.

“Do you think I would be any good at it?” he blurted out. “At being a father,” he clarified, and winced as if he already knew and hated the answer.

I slid to the edge of the bed and reached for his belt. Pulled him closer.

“You are as equipped for the task as I am,” I said, looking up at him with what I hoped was a provocative smile. He slid his long fingers into my hair, and I needed him closer. “If you’re terrible at it, then I will probably be worse.”

I meant it in jest. He’d always liked this side of me before, my dark, warped cruelty. But this time, his fingers tightened suddenly in my hair.

“Shit.” The word slid out of him like it was being dragged. His hands dropped from my hair, and he stepped back to look at me. He drew in a sharp breath.

“You think I would be a terrible father,” he said, which was hardly fair. That wasn’t what I said at all. I sighed hard, ruing the direction this was going – further from the bed.

“I think neither one of us knows what a good father looks like,” I said. Cardan only gave a painful chuckle.

“We are both quite familiar with terrible fathers,” he said. “I think you, of anyone, would be able to recognize a terrible father when you saw one.”

“And that is the last time you will compare yourself to Madoc,” I said, in horror. “If that is the standard for terrible fathers, then you’re angelic.”

But Cardan gave me a look of slit-eyed skepticism, so I stood from the bed and stepped to him.

“And, really, what does it matter right now?” I asked, lowly, holding a hand to his face. He leaned against it. I was almost ready to start begging. “I am not falling pregnant tonight. We have time to learn these things, if we want to learn them at all.” I lifted onto my tip toes, brushing my lips to the hollow of his cheek.

“Just come to bed,” I whispered there, and I saw his eyes fall shut, his dark lashes against his sharp cheekbones, as he turned to meet the slant of my lips.

“I want to be good at it,” he murmured against my mouth, as I dragged him toward the bed.

“Then you will be,” I insisted just before he cradled the back of my neck, sinking into our kiss as we tipped toward the mattress.

We have time. It’s an easy lie to tell when you’re in Faerie. Time stretches on, limitless and unending. There shouldbe time, endless amounts of time, to learn all you need to know – about anything. There should be time to become the person you’d always wanted to be.

I had had two months since that first conversation. Even less time since the others. In Faerie, that’s hardly a lunch hour.

I am reeling. I’m in Target with a red basket full of prenatal vitamins and snacks and pregnancy books, and I am absolutely reeling.

After I check out, I find Cardan sitting on the curb with a Starbucks bag that’s the size of a large gift bag and two venti Frappuccinos. The one he’s nursing is strawberry-pink and looks full of cream.

“They didn’t have wine,” he tells me, handing me mine. It’s drizzled in caramel, and I’m not sure it’s what I would have ordinarily chosen, but right now, it smells perfect.

“Probably for the best,” I say, and hazard a glance at his expression. It’s dark and troubled again as he squints against the sunlight. His legs are drawn up, and he’s resting his elbows on his knees, like he’s hunched under a weight. Reality’s given him a hard jolt since he kissed me in front of the newborn onesies.

I take a long sip of the Frappuccino through the green straw.

“Cardan, if you don’t want to do this--” I start, and his head jerks up.

“I have always wanted this,” he snaps, looking defensive, and then he’s looking at his boots again.

“Okay.” I sit back, extending my legs.

How do I do this? I have no blueprint for this. Floundering, there’s only one rope I know to pull, the one that’s always saved us: honesty.

So, I go on.

“I’m terrified, too,” I say. I spread the yellow fabric of my sundress over my knees. “If that’s any consolation. I think I’ll be happy eventually, but right now, I’m completely freaking out. I can hardly form a coherent thought. How many cake pops did you get?” I cock my head at the large Starbucks bag.

Cardan shifts it in my direction.

“All of them,” he says, glumly.

I raise my eyebrows as I peer in the bag. Oak will be excited, at least.

“I hate myself for being so terrified of a thing I desperately want.” I look up at Cardan’s confession to see his face twisted in loathing, and my heart twists right along with it. I know this pain, the agony of fearing what you love.

I could lie to him; I probably should. I should tell him right now that I know without a shadow of a doubt he will be a perfect father, that he’s beyond everything that had been done to him, that none of it had ever touched me either. But I don’t lie to him anymore.

Instead, I hand him a cake pop.

“That strikes me as a waste of energy,” I say, and nudge him with a coy smile. “There are so many other things you could hate yourself for.”

He gives me a wicked smirk and, instead of taking the cake pop I’ve offered, he seizes my other wrist and takes a large bite out of the one I’d claimed for myself. Feigning exasperation, I stab at him with the leftover stick.

“Does this not strike you as problematic?” he asks a moment later, his cheek still full of cake.

“Yes.” I reply with a stoic nod. “The fact that you just ate a pregnant lady’s cake pop is both striking andproblematic.”

“I mean this repartee you and I enjoy.” He wipes at a bit of icing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “A child ought to know his father loves his mother and vice versa, should he not? I would think that sort of thing helps.”

I feel the heartbreak behind his words as if it were my own. In his mind, he’s now on an endless search for every moment in his childhood that went wrong, every little action he ought to do the opposite of. I know. My mind’s been doing it, too.

I scoot a little closer, nearing his warmth, so that I can lean against him. He rests his head on top of mine.

“But you’re my nemesis,” I say, softly.

“Jude,” he says it like he’s scolding. “Not in front of the children.”

“Do not say ‘children’.” I jab him again as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Your wishes are too powerful, and there is room in here for only one.”

Cardan’s slipped an arm around me, and I tilt my head back to look at him. The corner of his mouth is tugging upwards, slyly.

“Tell me I’m too powerful again,” he murmurs as he kisses my cheek.

“Later,” I promise, and I reach for another cake pop.

There will be time for all that later.

It’s a lie I get used to telling.

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

Tags. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.: @yellowavocadopit

[houseof-harry]

What Happens in Jersey Pt. 8 | G.D.

A/N - she’s finally here! I’m sorry it took so long, but it had to meet my impossibly high standards. Get hype! Read the last part here!

Word Count - 4.7k

Warnings - none :)

Recap:

He sucks a breath in, his thoughts racing through his head a mile a minute. He had no clue how much you’d misinterpreted what happened with Jessie and how much you were unaware of how flexible he could be with his job and how much him and Ethan were looking to come back to the East Coast anyways. And most importantly, he had no idea you were unaware of how much he cared about you, your happiness, health, and well-being.

But before he can say any of that, you’re walking towards the door.

‘Y/N-“

“No. It’s Jessie’s fucking graduation party, we’re not going to ruin it.”

And with that you were out the door, not even looking back at him.

***

The rest of the party went well, without any hiccups. You even got to spend some time with Ethan, which you really enjoyed. He was always so stressed free it seemed, and he was even able to make you laugh.

Only when it started to wind down did your anxiety pick up again. You saw the Dolans making their rounds, saying goodbye to everyone they knew. Of course they saved you for last, Lisa and Ethan saying their goodbyes before leaving Grayson alone with you.

“Please let me take you to eat something.”

You can hear the desperation in his voice, and he makes it difficult to do anything other than agree with him. You simply nod, going to grab your phone. You don’t even care that you’re not hungry, you hope that maybe what you’d said had finally resonated with him and this could be the last time you have to have this type of conversation with him. You’d finally be able to like him from a distance, safely.

He brings you about 20 minutes from Jessie’s house to a small diner. The parking lot was almost empty, just a few cars that you assumed belonged to the staff. It was only 5 o’clock, so you assumed business would pick up soon.

“What’s this place?” You ask as you both walk to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you as you walk inside.

“Found it when I first got my license. I love my family, and Ethan especially, but I needed some space sometimes. Would come here and get some coffee and food and be alone.”

You nod, looking around the inside. It was exactly what you’d expect from a diner that hasn’t been changed in 50 years. How cliché.

A young girl walks towards you smiling, telling you to sit wherever you’d like. You thank her and Grayson pulls you to what you assume is his favorite booth.

Once you were both settled, you started looking over the menu. “What’s your favorite?” You ask him.

“Well, now that I’m vegan I just get fries, but I know the burgers are really good. Know that, somehow, you’ve been craving meat.” A shiver runs through him as if the thought is absolutely horrible.

You giggle, nodding. “Yeah, a burger sounds really good. But I need my own fries.” Now that you were here, smelling the grease and the food you knew you couldn’t resist having what he suggested.

His exaggerated disgust continues as he collects your menus. The comfortable feeling you got around him right now made you even more hopeful. Maybe he’d listened to you, and you could be friends. Back to a good old friend baby.

“I thought you should know Ethan and I are touring a couple houses tomorrow.”

Your smile fades as you look at him, your brows now raised. “Here?”

He nods. “Yeah. Well, in a couple of different towns, but all less than ten minutes from a train station so you can get to the city easily.”

You lean back against the smooth plastic of the booth, your skin sticking to the hard material. “For me?”

“Yeah, when you get a job.”

“Like I’d live there?”

He nods, confused with your confusion. “Yeah, we talked about that a few times. Me taking care of it all and stuff.”

You shake your head, the brick of anxiety right back in your gut. “No, no no. Helping is one thing. Buying a house is a whole other thing. I can’t rely on you like that.”

“Why do you say shit like that, Y/N? It’s okay to not be able to do this on your own, you didn’t get pregnant on your own. I understand it’s scary, I do. I’m scared too. But, this is gonna happen no matter if we ignore it or not and I’d rather get on our shit so we can do right by our baby.”

You sit there for a minute, processing his words. As much as you’d like to admit it, he’s right. You’re already halfway through your pregnancy and you haven’t done much to prepare for when the baby actually gets here.

“I just-“ you suck in a deep breath, looking away from him. “It’s hard for me to trust people. I’ve let people in to be hurt and let down by them when they were supposed to be nothing but loving and supportive. If they couldn’t do that, why would you be able to?”

Although your response was vague, Grayson is almost positive you’re talking about your parents. The same parents you’ve only mentioned once and it was only when he asked. Before all of this had happened, Jessie had let it slip that they weren’t great, but again he went into little detail. He wanted to know what had happened, what they could have done to make you so unwilling to trust people, but he also knows better than to pry.

“I don’t know what else I can do to prove I want to go through this with you, be here with you and raise our baby together. I even looked into the school districts of all the towns we’re going to tomorrow, I’m here for this. I don’t want to help you because you need it, which it’s okay if you do, but because I care about you. I think you’re strong and amazing, you’re probably one of the most respectable people I know.”

You sigh, sinking further into the booth. Your walls were quickly being knocked down by every word that came from his mouth, but there was still that part of you that didn’t want to believe this could be possible.

“What happens if you don’t like me anymore and don’t want to live together?”

“Y/N, we can go over a million what ifs, but that one’s ridiculous. No matter what happens to us, you’re still the mother of my baby and I will do whatever it takes to give them the best life possible. If it was absolutely necessary, I’d find another place to sleep.”

You nod, playing with the hem of your dress. “What about when you’re in LA and I’m working?”

“My mom can help when she’s not working, but at this point E and I are going to be based in Jersey and only going to LA for when we need.”

You raise your brow, sitting up straighter. “So you’d be here most of the year? For the baby?”

He nods, his hands coming to rest on the table, interlocked with one another. “I mean we’ve wanted to do this for a while anyways, but this just kind of put a fast forward on it.”

“So you won’t become spiteful or anything?” You don’t mean to sound judgmental and rude, but that’s definitely how it comes across.

“Y/N, no. I want this, I promise.”

Before you can conjure up another make believe situation, the same girl who greeted you came over and asked for your orders. You took Grayson’s advice and got a burger, and Grayson got the same soda you’d shared at the hockey game to go along with his fries.

Once the server is gone, his eyes are back on you, a small smile on his face.

“Can I come look at the houses with you guys?” You ask quietly, unsure of how he’d feel about that.

He nods enthusiastically, the smile widening on his lips. “Of course, yeah. We’re looking at four. Here, let me show you pictures.”

He reaches for his phone, but you shake your head. “No, I want to see them all fresh. Get a feel for them as I experience them.”

“I like the way you think.” He continues to smile, his body much more relaxed than before. “We’re meeting the realtor at 9 tomorrow morning.”

“I can make that work.”

***

You had about ten minutes before the twins would pulling into Jessie’s driveway and you were washing your dishes from the breakfast you had made for you and Jessie.

“So you’re really gonna live with them?” He asks from next to you, drying the plate you handed him.

You nod, a sigh passing your lips. You’d managed to keep talk of Grayson minimal with Jessie ever since March, but this was unavoidable.

“Yeah, makes the most sense. He’s really keen on giving our baby as much of a family we can no matter what, and I agree. If we all live together, it’ll be a lot easier to do that.”

You almost felt like a changed woman overnight. Last night, you and Grayson had stayed at the diner for almost three hours. You talked a bit more about the houses and the baby, but most of it was just catching up for the almost two months you didn’t share much with one another.

Him and Ethan were working on a new collection for their fragrance company, they had been doing all types of videos they loved, and the decision to come back to New Jersey. They had known that it would always be their home, but they were really excited to come back. LA had become too much, they felt more like themselves here.

You decided to tell him how the end of your semester went, how sad you were to be done with school but how excited you were to finally be able to do something you loved. When you were able to get a job, of course.

You both even found yourselves sharing things about your childhood, both good and bad. He told you about some of the hard things he experienced with bullying and you shared about your anxiety growing up. You didn’t go into detail, but it gave him some insight into how you thought now, why you were so timid in letting him in. It made him wonder what you saw in Jessie and why you so easily were able to trust him. But, he didn’t want to get into that.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

You felt frustration slowly start to bubble in you, feeling like you were quickly going to end up in the same situation as last time if you didn’t bite it in the butt.

“Jess, yes, I do. And no more questioning Grayson from you, I do it enough for the both of us. You agreed to just focus on us, not him. I’m not putting up with this shit again.”

Jessie leans back against the counter, his arms crossed after having dried the last dish. “I know, sorry. It’s just the last time you stayed with him it went south fast.”

“It went south after you got into some weird ass bidding war over me. But it’s different now. We’re good again and I’m working with Gray to be good with him, too.” You dried your hands, going to grab your phone to make sure you could see when Grayson texted you. Now you were more than itching to get out of the house.

“So you want space?”

You pause, pondering his suggestion. You’re sure he asked it just to hear you say ‘no’, but it honestly wasn’t a bad suggestion. Before you could really have them both in the same space it would be easier to figure out where you stood with both of them.

“I mean…maybe.”

Sure enough, he looks at you bewildered. “Y/N, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I have to actually give him a chance. You had me for two months, and look where it’s gotten us. We’re good again. I need to at least try with him, I owe him that.” Your words almost surprise you as much as they do Jessie, but they’re the truth. You never gave Grayson a chance and yet he still continues to show how much he’s willing to support you and the baby.

“And you can’t do that with me being around?”

A sarcastic laugh bubbles up from your throat as you look at him in disbelief. “Not with the way you acted before, and definitely not the way you’re acting now. Not until you can actually be friends with him again.”

Jessie clenches his jaw, nodding while refusing to look your way. “We were never really friends. Only liked Ethan.”

“So then start to like him,” you snap and before he can respond, your phone buzzes with Grayson’s contact. You hold your hand up to Jessie before he can talk again, answering your phone. “Hey.”

“Hi! We’re outside.” Grayson’s voice floods your senses and for a moment, you feel better. Unfortunately, a moment is all it can be because you watch Jessie leave the kitchen, his jaw tense and his hands in fists.

“Be there in a minute.” You hang up the phone, quickly moving around the kitchen to get your things. You take a moment to breath, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders. You want to try and enjoy this day so bad, and the ball is in your court at this point. Either have a good time with the twins or let Jessie ruin it even when he’s not there.

Before you can overwhelm yourself with your thoughts, you go to the door and walk outside. You smile as soon as you can see the happy grin on Grayson’s face coming your way. Ethan was settling into the back seat, so you took it as your cue to sit in the passenger seat.

As soon as you open the door, Grayson is greeting you. He is spewing information about your day to you while you buckle and get comfortable, your hand instinctively covering your stomach over the seat belt.

“Ready?” He asks, his gaze on you.

You nod, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah.”

His smile falters a bit at the level of your voice. You were quiet, much less excited than him. As he started to drive, this scared him. What if you weren’t ready for this, and you had lied just to appease him? He was confused, because your dinner had been so good. He couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. The way you sounded telling him your fond memories from summers at the beach, or the less nice stories about your family. The way you’d look at him like you were almost a bit scared, but never enough to stop looking or talking. He felt like you’d finally started to let your walls down a bit, but it felt like they were right back up now.

The rest of the car ride is pretty quiet, your thoughts back at Jessie’s while your eyes followed the trees you passed. You were scared, genuinely. If Jessie didn’t get his shit together, a break wouldn’t be enough. You didn’t want to lose him, not after everything you’ve been through. But he needed to let you and Grayson figure out what you wanted to do.

The car pulled into a parking lot of a shopping center and next to a white SUV. A woman with blonde hair, tan skin, and crisp clothing stood behind it with a wide smile on her face. You guessed she was around 40, but you couldn’t be sure. You couldn’t tell if it was botox or just how perky she was, or even her colorful skirt and white blouse that was buttoned at the top. She seemed like she played tennis at the country club on the weekends with her friends. But, who were you to judge.

You heard her chipper voice greet the boys while you climbed out of the car. You let out a huff as your feet hit the ground, your hand gripping the door to keep your balance. You take a second to yourself to breathe, calming yourself. There’s no need to be so pessimistic all the damn time, right?

You make your way to the other side of the car, a tight smile making its way onto your face as the three people come into view.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Beth.” Before you can even react, Beth is bringing you into a tight hug. You hug her back for a moment before stepping back.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Grayson’s told me all about you and your little bean! May I?” Her hands over your stomach and honestly you don’t want her touching you, but saying no might make things awkward. And you might be finding your future home today, so you nod your hand and her hands are on you immediately. You shiver, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to cover your upper arms. Grayson notices and wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“I remember being pregnant with my babies. Still carry some of that baby weight with me,” she chuckles, her hands moving from your stomach to her own. You say nothing because she probably weighs less than you did before you were pregnant. All you could was pray this woman was as good at finding homes as she was at giving you a headache.

“So Beth, where’s the first house we’re looking at?” Ethan asks and you’re beyond grateful. You weren’t a huge fan of the attention to start, and Beth just seems so…condescending. But, you decide to continue to act as normal as possible because you’re sure your hormones make your annoyance with the woman ten times higher than normal.

Thankfully, Ethan’s question gets Beth on a roll of describing the first house and the town it’s in as she tells you guys to get in her car.

Grayson opens the front door for you but you shake your head, pushing Ethan to sit there instead. If you sat in the back with Grayson you’d be much more able to focus on the positives of what Beth has to say without her voice giving you even more of a headache. Plus, sitting next to Grayson didn’t sound so bad.

The boys both don’t question you at first, and it’s only once you’re in the back, opting for the middle seat to sit closer to Grayson that he gives you a questioning look.

“You good?” He whispers, and you’re sure the two in the front can’t hear him over Beth’s full on monologue. You weren’t even sure she was talking about the house anymore.

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah.”

“You won’t feel sick?”

“No, I don’t really get morning sickness now anyways. Plus I was cold, didn’t know it was gonna be cloudy today. Would have worn leggings or something.” You move so you’re right up against him, his warm skin soothing your anxious heartbeat.

Between going to tour fucking houses with your baby daddy (and his twin/soon to be your roommate) and your tiff with Jessie this morning, you were anxious. And you’re at the point in your pregnancy where everything makes you anxious because you don’t want anything to hurt your baby, so it’s just been a really stressful morning.

“Oh, so you’re using me,” he chuckles, his arm finding itself right around your shoulder again, pulling you as close as you possibly can be in the backseat of a car without literally being on his lap.

You giggle as you nod, wrapping your arms around his torso as you rest your head on his chest to look out the window. “Yeah, pretty much.”

The rest of the car ride is filled with Beth talking about herself and sometimes pointing out local things you pass as you get closer to the home.

You only lift your head once the car is stopped in front of a metal gate, a huge house standing behind the fence.

“So like I said, this house has a finished basement and a pool in the backyard,” Beth continues to drone on, but you can’t find it in yourself to listen even though now it would probably be useful to.

It was a massive fucking house. There was literally a separate five car garage you could see, the white shutters contrasting the blue shingles that lined the entirety of the exterior. There were flowers lining the walkway up to the front door, and you thought about how perfect it all looked. White picket fence, the whole nine.

Your stomach started to bubble with your ever persistent anxiety again as the reality of the situation hit you. Hard. You were literally going to be living in this house, or some other perfect house, with Grayson Dolan and your baby.

You let Grayson help you out of the car, and you walk with him up to the front porch and through the door. The inside was just as perfect as the outside, and it didn’t sit right with you. It felt pristine, but not homey.

Beth and Ethan speed past you, his interest being in the backyard. Grayson walks around with you wordlessly until you’re in the living room where he lets go of your hand to look at the pictures above the fireplace.

You look around, looking at the crème couch on top of the off-white carpet. A glass coffee table was in front of it, and there were a couple of magazines splayed out across the top. You know that the décor doesn’t come with the house, but it all seems so…fake. Like no one actually lives there.

“What’s wrong?” Grayson asks you, and you hadn’t noticed he’d turned around to watch you. “And don’t say nothing, that’s what you always say but I know your thoughts are racing.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “When did you learn to read me so well?”

He laughs, walking closer to you to wrap his arms around your waist. “I mean all I do these days is think about you, look at you, worry about you. Makes it a lot easier to notice when something is making you uncomfortable or something. But you make it easy, your face and your eyes give you away pretty easily.”

You gasp, your hand coming to cover your mouth as you giggle. “Really? Like no poker face?” “None,” he laughs.

“Damn.” You wrap your arms under his arms around his upper torso, letting your face rest on his chest. His heartbeat makes you feel a bit better, grounding you despite the fact you feel like you’re on a movie set for a family show.

“So what’s wrong?” He gives you a squeeze.

“I mean, if I’m being honest it started this morning when I kind of fought with Jess,” you sigh. He tenses at the mention of Jessie, not saying anything so you can elaborate more. “I basically told him when I move out I think we should have some space because it’s only fair I give us the same chance to mend our relationship I gave him.”

Grayson’s heart swells at this. He literally thinks he’s the Grinch, but instead of starting with a shrunken heart, his has grown so big it might burst out of his chest. This is the first time you’ve ever really admitted to really wanting to work on any type of relationship to him, which is big. Communication has never been your forte, and the same goes for himself.

“He’ll come around,” Grayson reassures you.

“Will he though? I don’t think he realizes that there isn’t a choice for me in a way. Like a part of him is still waiting for me to just drop you or something.”

Grayson swallows hard, the thought of you fully breaking off any relationship with him making him almost break out into a sweat. He’s not sure what he would do if you did that, what that would mean for your baby.

“And I think it’s eating away at him slowly, which is making it harder and harder to try and go back to how we were. Because I can’t just act like you’re not important to me, and it’s not fair of him to expect that of me. I just don’t know what to do.” You’re pretty much whimpering at this point, nuzzling your face into his shirt, the warmth radiating from him making you feel a bit better.

“Well, you know you can’t change him so for now let’s focus on the house we’re going to raise our family in, and we can address the Jessie situation later,” he suggests.

You take in a big breath before looking at him, a tight smile on your lips. “You’re right. That’s what I was trying to do originally, but it clearly wasn’t working,” you giggle.

He rubs up and down your back to soothe you a bit. “It’s okay. What do you think of the house, at least?”

You look around the living room once more before meeting his gaze again. “Honestly?”

“Of course.” “Feels fake. Like it’s too perfect. I can’t imagine us actually relaxing in here after the baby’s finally gone down to sleep, the kitchen looks like you’re not even supposed to cook in it because who has white everything? I know I’ve never cooked for you and although I have nothing but great ratings, I make a mess. Not that I don’t clean it, but I’d be so much more worried about it. We need a place we can actually live in, not somewhere that’s aesthetically pleasing. We need a home, not just a house.”

He thinks about what you said for a minute, looking around the room. “You’re right.”

You frown, watching his face. “Why do you look disappointed?” “It was my favorite online,” he mumbles.

Guilt hits you immediately as you rub your hands up and down his back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s a really nice house.”

He shakes his head. “But you’re right, it has to feel like home. Somewhere we can see our baby growing up. All the white kind of reminds me of a doctor’s office.”

You nod, your nose scrunching up at the thought. “Yeah, it’s too sterile.”

“I’ll get Beth and E and we can go to the next one.” He pulls away from you to walk away.

“Are you sure?”

“If it’s not feeling like home to you, then it’s not the right place. I’m positive.” And with that, he’s gone.

The car ride to the next house felt like two minutes even though it was probably around 30 because you were sat in the back talking with Grayson again. Time didn’t seem to exist when he was there, and neither does any other person.

So when your conversation is interrupted by Beth, you snap your head forward to see you’re at another gate. This time, however, the house is hidden behind the trees.

“Did you guys hear that?” Her voice is still bright as ever, but you can hear the annoyance as well.

“No, sorry,” you mumble.

“So this property is on a lake. It has its own dock and pretty much the whole back of the house are windows looking over the water but you’re far enough from shore to still have the privacy you were looking for.” 

The car continues down the pebbled driveway as you look out the window. It’s basically a forest, all you can see is lush green and the blue sky that peaks through the opening caused by the driveway. Soon enough, the pebbles open up into a huge, circular driveway and a giant house wraps around the far side of the stones. It was a blueish gray with white detailing that looked just worn in enough to look cozy. The plants and flowers that surrounded the driveway and walkway were full and bright, adding to the warmness and welcoming you felt looking at the wooden front doors.

This is it.

You don’t want to say anything out loud to any of them yet because you haven’t even seen the inside yet, but this is it. This is your home.

[imnotwolverine]

Field of dreams

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: The Scottish highlands, some bear tears and a whole lot of (outdoor) loving. 

Word count: 4.432

Disclaimer: fluff and smut

--

This is part 19 of the Tea for Two series. 

Find the Masterlist here. 

--

< Go back to part 18

Tall wet grass blades licked my calves as my rain boots plowed through dewy fields, the tiny water drops sparkling in the light of a watery sun as it slowly rose over the steep Scottish hills.

It was about 7 am and the world around us was slowly waking up, its wild scenery conjuring itself up from the stormy dark of the night before. It had rained all night and the animals were glad to be out and about again. Birds chirped their morning song, supple wings carrying them with grace through the rain heavy skies, while a few big Scottish highlanders mooed at me and Kal.

Henry had left for an early start at work - I don’t know how that man could be such an early bird -, so it was just the two of us as we slowly trodded to the set that lay a few miles north of the cottage we resided in.

After months of jet setting through the hustle and bustle of large cities, it was almost unsettling to not have a single person around for miles.

What if something happened? What if I got hurt?

I pushed the thought aside as I was greeted by Kal’s wet nose pressing into my hand, his big paws quickly zooming past me as he continued to pee on every rock and tree he could find.

I smiled, taking a deep breath.

Scotland was every bit as beautiful as the pictures I had seen in magazines. It was raw, wild and fantastically beautiful. Like a painting, the landscape oozed “magic”. Lush greenery, with speckles of rock, yellowish moss and the occasional abandoned ruin that once had been the homestead of some civilisation long gone. The wind licked at our hairs, pulling it wildly back and fro as little misty drops of water kissed our faces. A remainder of the previous down pour.

Even the smell was something out of this world. It lay almost thick in your lungs, so fresh and earthy, the wet grass mixing deliciously with the muddy earth and the warm wool vest that was snuggly wrapped around me. It almost smelled like…home.

Home, in my case, being a rural area in the Netherlands, its outstretched flat landscape housing more cows and sheep than humans. My whole youth I had spent cycling and walking through similar green fields. Be it to go to school. Or the small supermarket. Or friends. Always there was this vast landscape enveloping me, making me feel ever so small and insignificant. It had been humbling, for sure, and even to this day it reminded me to humble as a human being.

And sure enough it had not only been the land, but also my mom.

As my rubber rain boots slushed through the grass I could almost hear her voice again..her never ending rambling as we walked the dog at an eerily early hour of the day. A moment we both cherished dearly. She, because she could talk without being nagged by her annoying colleagues or my grumpy dad. I, because I enjoyed listening to her while I slowly woke up from my dream-laden sleep, my jaw cracking open in large, relaxing yawns.  

And just like Kal did, our border collie would zip through the tall grass, chasing down small animals and doing his business before quickly rushing back to greet us with a happily lolling tongue.

I could also remember the last time we walked together, before I moved out to “the big city”. Her words still regularly swam through my mind in a moment of quiet.

‘Never forget I love you. Never forget I’ll be here for you. And most importantly: never forget to be there for yourself. Know it is okay to find things frightening. But don’t let it hold you back. Embrace it. Study it. Question it. And you will find it isn’t quite so scary at all. It is just..new!’

I had cried that day, for the first time in years. I had been scared, even though I sure as hell didn’t want to stay at home forever. I did want to grow up. I did want to live a life of my own. I did want to discover the world. It was just that the first step was particularly hard.

Now, some ten-ish years later, here I was. In the Scottish highlands. Walking the dog of the man I loved more than I thought possible. And I was discovering a new bit of the world every day. I was living my own life.

Sure, I was still scared at times. But that was okay.

Being scared was okay..come to think of it.

Just a week ago we sure had a scary moment. Or should I say new and exciting? As the days progressed the experience of a false alarm pregnancy was slowly turning from a shock into a new sense of wonder. Would I ever be a mom? Would I ever have a child of my own? To talk with him or her while our feet trampled through tall wet grass, a dog skirting our sides? Was that really such a scary idea?

Perhaps not.

It was just new.

Yes. New.  

My eyes picked up the glistening of something. I peered into the distance and realised it were aluminium roofs. The set! My heart thumped in excitement as I felt a slow smile creep up my cheeks. Moving further up the hill I got a better view of the small encampment of trailers, tents and trucks that were scattered amidst some old ruins. Just another mile or so and we could start another day of “something new”. Something new not being human babies, but a new season of the Witcher.  

—

All day I hadn’t seen or spoken to Henry. Which was slightly frustrating, sure, but I could quickly put those feelings aside as work had started to pick up pace. More trucks arrived, schedules needed to be adjusted to fit weather forecasts and set pieces needed saving from the never ending flurry of rain showers. This was what I liked most. Hands-on, hard work.

Before long the day was drawing to an end. It was 6pm and the crew had just finished packing and securing everything in containers, the night shift starting soon.

Also, at long last, I had managed to get a hold on Henry, who was just getting out of a costume fitting, his tumble of dark curly hair slightly dishevelled as he walked up to the car.

‘Hi there handsome.’ I smirked, leaning against the back of the SUV, my feet sunken away in an inch of mud. He came up to me and Kal and smiled a quiet smile before placing a kiss on my lips and scratching Kal behind the ears, his other hand rummaging through his pockets to look for the car keys. Not being able to find them at once, he furrowed his brow, cursing under his breath. The pent up frustration of more then just hard-to-find car keys was tangible in the air.

‘You okay dear?’ I asked carefully, my hand moving out to stroke his arm, but instead tentatively hovering mid air. His whole body was screaming “I’m not okay”.

He groaned and shook his head. ‘Just a bit of a bad day.’ He swallowed, finally finding the car keys and sighing softly.

‘Here, give me that. I’ll drive. YOU sit back and relax.’

‘No, no. It’s fine. I can drive.’ He muttered, his body language telling me otherwise. He was in fact not even making an attempt to walk towards the driver’s seat, instead opting to just stand there, looking a bit forlorn.

‘Look at me.’ I commanded, finally moving my hesitating hand to his arm, offering him a gentle rub. He looked up at me. Our first eye contact of that day. And for the first time ..ever, I saw something I don’t think I had ever seen before in his eyes. Tears. Unspent, hot, burning, tears.

Oh..

I felt my heart sink.

‘Let’s get into the car.’ He finally croaked, moving to the passenger side of the car as he offered me the keys.

He didn’t even put up a fight, like he usually would when I offered to help him out. It was really bad then, huh?

I clicked the car open and Henry climbed in without a word, Kal quick to follow suit. I looked at them as the door was pulled closed, my mind not fully registering what was happening until I felt my feet instinctively carry me to the driver’s seat, the mud slushing below my well-put-to-use rain boots.

As soon as I plopped down on the soft leather seat, I could see him unravel. The usual big presence that was Henry Cavill now melting down to a slumping mess of chocolate brown curls and shaking shoulders, his large frame hanging heavily into his seatbelt as he curled his fingers through little bits of Kal’s fur. Grasping on like the dog was his very life buoy. His breath hiccuped as the waterworks opened up, salty tears burning like acid over his beautifully square jawline.

What should I do?

I hesitated a moment before moving my hand to his shoulder, rubbing slow, big circles over the tense muscles, opting to not speak for the moment as heavy sobs echoed through the car. He probably just needed a moment to cry. Release whatever he was holding in. And I was glad he didn’t hold back, his bone wrecking sobs now filling the air with a certain heaviness.

It all came pouring out.

We sat there for a few minutes, his hands now moving to his face, covering his teary cheeks as he let out a few more shivery breaths. I was glad he had parked at the far end of the parking lot this morning, this spot offering us some privacy so none of the other set members could see us while they got into their own cars.

I moved my hand up through his curls, massaging his scalp in slow kneading movements, my other hand moving to Kal’s fur, Kal now quietly pushing his head into Henry’s lap. I truly believed that dogs could sense what their humans are feeling. And needing.

At this moment, Henry just needed us with him.

‘I’m sorry about that.’ Henry finally muttered, his voice slurred with emotion.

‘Don’t be.’ I said, my hand still moving slowly through his hair, the thick hair soft below my finger tips.

‘I just…’ Another sob came over him, his shoulders sinking down as he bent forward to rest on his elbows.

I moved my hand down to his back, rubbing more large circles over the warm plane of muscles that sat below his leather jacket and auburn woolen sweater. He shook his head slowly, his face contorted in sorrow, half hidden behind his large hands. My heart cried for him, my lips pulled into a tight line as I saw the love of my life torn to pieces by something unknown.

Had something bad happened? Did someone hurt him? Did someone die?

Slowly his sobs calmed again, his face remaining hidden behind his hands as he took a few deep breaths.

‘I’m here for you.’ I said gently.

‘I know.’ He said feebly, finally looking back up at me through tear drained hands. ‘Let’s go home.’ He pleaded softly. I nodded and revved the engine, the vehicle gently rolling back through the thick mud as I clicked on my seatbelt.

The road was zig zagging through the lush green hills, giving me a decent excuse to drive nice and slow, the car now quiet as Henry and Kal both stared out of the window. My eye moved from my two sweet men, to a lake that lay just behind one of the slopes. 

Without much of a second thought I decided to take the next exit from the main road, a slightly more bumpy country road taking us to a small parking lot that was placed just behind the hill that hid the beautiful vista of the lake.  

Henry looked up, slightly confused, his sorrowful blue eyes looking at me with question. ‘Let’s get some air.’ I said, removing my seatbelt and swinging open my door. The sun was slowly starting to come down from its high perch, the greenery kissed by its sinking rays. I moved to the front of the car, stretching out languidly and waiting for a very hesitant Henry to also climb out of the car.

He didn’t say a word as he moved next to me. Kal was left in the car.

‘It’s just ten minutes to the house.’ He said, his voice still cracking a bit. I nodded and shrugged. ‘I know. And we’ll get back home, trust me. I just think you would like to see this.’ I smiled gently and stretched out an arm, enveloping his hand in mine and tugging him towards the small path that curved up the grassy hill.

We slowly paced up the hill, our feet sinking away every meter or so in the slippery mud, until we reached the top. Our eyes met with a most magical sight. 

In front of us lay the lake in all its desolate glory, the water reflecting the patchwork of colours that surrounded us. Baby blues, lush greens, bright pinks, various hues of yellow and brown, splashes of grey rock and the grey-ish blue sky up above.

I let another deep breath seep into my lungs as I smiled at the sight, softly squeezing Henry’s hand as I also heard his breath halt for a moment.

‘Wow.’ He said, his voice slightly more upbeat then before. I decided to not look at him, and instead released his hand so I could balance myself as I started walking down the slippery hill, moving closer towards the lake. Henry followed suit, his foot falls not far behind me.

‘I walked here this morning and thought you’d like to see it as well. It sure is true what they say..’ I turned around to look over my shoulder, seeing Henry struggle to keep his footing as he met my gaze. I smiled. ‘..it’s magical out here.’ His eyes remained locked on mine as a very small smile tugged at his lips, his ocean blues still blazing with emotions unsung. I turned back to continue my path, but was halted by Henry’s hand as it slipped around my upper arm.

I looked back up at him, his words already moving through the air.

‘My brother Charlie and his wife are expecting again.’

His words were uttered with a dry matter of factualness, but it was weird since this was the first thing he said to me after his outburst..Something told me there was some co-relation between the two.

I whisked up a kind smile and pushed the thought aside.

‘Congratulations. They must be overjoyed! That’s their..fourth kid then, right?’

His jaw clenched as a feeble smile appeared on his lips. ‘Yea.’

Our eyes remained trained on each other for another moment before he broke our gaze, looking back over my shoulder and taking in the beautiful vista.

‘I’m sorry for just now. Really. I don’t want to scare you..I just..’ He took in a deep breath as he closed the distance between us, his foot nearly slipping again in the mud. We both let out a little gasp, our small smiles now turning into large grins as our hands entangled to both find steady footing again. Henry chuckled softly as he settled for a steady spot, his hands moving up to cup my cheeks as his fingers brushed away a few strands of hair.

‘I just have a bit of a hard time with this news after that..thing..earlier this week.’ He looked down at our mud soaked feet, his thumbs drawing soft circles over my cool skin.

‘It’s been a lot on my mind as well.’ I agreed, moving my arms to encircle him, my head leaning against his chest while my eyes quietly peered over at the lake. ‘Pregnancy was just..not something I had ever really given much of a thought and the possibility of a slip kind of took me by surprise.’

I felt him move his head, his nose nuzzling my hair before planting a gentle kiss there. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was just..so…’ He sighed. ‘Excited. Gosh, I’m so sorry for that. I knew there was only but a tiny chance and..even if it was so, you might have not wanted to keep it, or something could have happened..and…’ His voice hummed in my ear as I noticed two majestical swans coming over the hill, their large white wings elegantly curling so they could slip their large bodies into the shimmering water.

I stopped him mid-sentence.

‘If I had been pregnant I would have kept it.’ I said, my cheek still pressed against his chest. I could feel his thumbs still on my cheeks, his breath hiccuping as the words found their rightful meaning in his head. It took another long moment before he finally released his breath again, his hands moving down to tilt my head up.

I looked up into those big blues, his eyes pouring out all the love they could give. I wish I could capture this moment and put it in a frame. Forever to keep so I could be reminded of what it was like to be loved a man like Henry.

‘Why?’ He asked, a bit dumbfounded. I chuckled, and looked back at him lovingly.

‘Because, although it’s scary..it’s far less scary when I know I can do it with you. Besides..’ I smiled and shrugged. ‘..I bet you’ll be an awesome dad. Bad jokes and all.’ He grinned and tilted my head up further, his lips softly brushing over mine. ‘I’ll try my best.’ He said, a smile quickly growing on his lips.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you Henry. I know what I said was..difficult to hear. I mean. I know you really, really, really want to start a family, and then to say that I’m scared and..’ I rambled on but his lips quieted me, his tongue demanding entrance as he pulled me closer, kissing me with such passion I forgot how to even stand up straight, my knees becoming putty.

‘I can wait.’ He finally breathed in between kisses. ‘For babies that is. Not for you. I..’ He kissed me again. ‘..Need you. I need you always. I never loved a woman like I love you.’ He pushed his groin flush against me, his very evident rock-hard need now pressing into my belly as his tongue danced with mine, my lips widening as I gasped at the feeling. ‘Fuck.’ I breathed, my hands now pulling at his shirt to steady myself.

Come on knees, don’t give in on me now!

Henry noticed my struggle and just like in a movie, he pulled us down, our bodies sinking gently into the grassy hillside as his lips kept peppering me with his devotion. ‘I love you so, so much.’ He groaned, his voice thick with emotion once more. I let my head fall back into the soft grass mounds as his lips moved down to my jaw and my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail of tender skin, slightly reddened by his five o’clock shadow. 

The damp grass was slowly drenching my clothes, but I couldn’t care, the sensation of his heavy muscles pinning me down along with his musky scent mixing with the smell of crushed grass..it was all I needed.

Without much of a thought my fingers nimbly moved to unbuckle his belt, the metal clanging ringing like bells in the soft wind,  his hands in turn moving below my jacket to knead my lower back through the thin material of my summer dress.

‘Please.’ I begged, hastily tugging open his jeans.

‘Please what my love?’ Henry grinned, moving up ever so slightly so his dark eyes could peer into mine.

‘Want me to dirty talk huh?’ I quirked up an eyebrow, finding him smile at me in amusement.

‘Well.’ I licked my lips. ‘I want you to fill me up so good..our heartbeats become one. I want you to claim me…’ I pulled him down with a tug on his jacket. ‘I want to feel you inside me. Hard and pulsating and..’ I didn’t need to continue, his hands making light work of pushing aside my dress and panties, his erection springing free from his boxers.

‘Fuck baby.’ He growled, his velvety hardness pushing eagerly against my petals, his hips slowly..ever so slowly..forcing me to take him in. I let out a shivery breath as the sensation of the cold grass in combination with his hot flesh overflowed me. I didn’t even have control over my body anymore. As by second nature my legs wrapped around his hips while he pushed himself further and further into me, stretching my soft walls to accommodate his need.

My hands clawed at his back and our tongues darted in a sensual dance. A dance we had become well practised in now. Prodding, teasing, rolling, sucking.

My back arched up as he finally bottomed out inside me, his arms now moving to pull me up from the soft wet grass, our weight being shifted on his knees as he sat up. I no longer felt the cold dampness, but instead a wave of heat as his large arms encased me, pulling me as close as he could.

‘I am yours.’ I breathed, feeling Henry around me like a blanket of love. His hot breath against my cold cheeks as his lips bruised mine, his arms my bed and his cock my life force. I did not need another thing in the world right now, my eyes just lazily taking in our surroundings as he started to push inside me.

Low golden sun rays caressed his skin, making him as beautiful as a son of the gods, his chiseled jaw clenching in effort as his hips started to move at their own volition. It was like one of those great marble statues had been brought to life, no ink spared to paint him to be the most beautiful human being I knew. Strong, yet sweet, proud, yet humble, loyal, yet thorough. And did I mention well endowed? Yes. All of the above.

I leaned into his arms as I felt myself practically float, the grass blades that occasionally tickled my naked flesh the only reminder that I was in fact still earth bound. Henry’s delicious roars and moans filled the air as the sun set behind the hills, his hips jerking now in earnest.

I could feel a few drops hit my skin.

Was that sweat?

Was he crying?

I finally came back to and looked up at Henry, his face contorted in ecstasy. No tears, that was for sure. I let out a low moan as our eyes met. Dark, smouldering, filled with want. Seeing those dark stormy eyes as he filled me up so deliciously made my insides coil up, my nerves shoot small sparks of electricity.

‘Gods.’ I gasped, giving in to the sensation as my body started to spasm, my legs locking even tighter around his hips as my eyelids became heavy with lust.

‘Come for me my angel. Let go.’ He said, his low voice now ringing somewhere in the back of my mind as hot fire emblazoned my groin, my hands feebly scratching at his shoulders as my hair kissed the grass that lay beneath us.  

Stars struck my every nerve and I lost all control of my body, my body spasming beneath Henry’s iron lock as my throat let out a lone cry.

Henry did not stop, his hips still pushing me further and further over the edge as I keened and pleaded. My orgasm slowly made way for a pleasant high, my body still moulding perfectly around Henry as he searched for his release.

I could feel more water drops hit my face. I looked up and noticed the threateningly dark sky that now drifted towards us.

It was about to rain. 

I reeled up my head and let the cool water drip on my heated skin, my cheeks so flush with need that the heavenly water was a welcome guest to our conjoinment.

The small drizzle became bigger drops.

Henry pulled me closer, ramming into me with a certain earnesty now.

I would be sore later.

Bigger drops became a pour, our clothes slowly becoming wet with not just our sweat, but also rain.

I let out a low moan as I started to feel him twitch inside me, his hands now clenching me so hard he’d surely leave some marks.

‘FUCK HENRY.’ I gasped, my whole body being shook by his punishing pounding.

So this was sex like with an emotional Henry. Fuck me.

The rain started to pour harder and harder as Henry’s thrusts became sloppy, his head flopping forward as he let out a low roar.

‘FUCK BABY. FUCK. I. Love. You. So. Much.’ He jerked as he spilled his life giving seed in my womb. Once more sealing our union, now for the world to see without the protection of stone bedroom walls.

I could visualise it. Our bodies half clothed, sprawled out on the tall wet grass. Completely soaked. 

Heavily panting he pulled me closer, shielding me somewhat from the rain as he rubbed slow lines over my back. I was drenched. Everything about me was drenched. In and out. Super wet.

I let out a soft giggle as our eyes finally met again.

‘I. Am. Wet.’ I sniffled, earning a chuckle from him in turn, his hair now forming a wet frame of delicious curls around his face.

I hope our kids will have his curls.  

We quickly hurdled ourselves back to the car, finding an enthusiastic, but also slightly confused Kal as he licked our salty, wet hands. I sat back behind the wheel as Henry gave Kal a big bear hug, his eyes quickly trailing back to me. We didn’t need to speak, the only sound in the car now being the rumbling of our empty stomachs.

I chuckled and Henry moved his hand over my growling belly, his eyebrows lifting in a teasing matter. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, quickly starting the car before I’d have to devour him in the literal sense of the word.

--

Part 20 >

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 18

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 18: Ella has strange dreams and struggles with them. 

       Tommy found his sister at their uncle’s yard, standing by the canal. It was early morning and a thick fog hung over the dark water. Ella was wearing a thick wool coat with fur lining. The heavy fabric covering any hint at her pregnancy.

           So she was listening to him. At least for now.

           Ella didn’t look over at him when he came to stand beside her. She simply remained still. Waiting for him to speak first. But he only tossed his spent cigarette into the still water.

           “Do you remember the first horse you bought me?”

           Tommy tucked a hand in his pocket and nodded. “It was a paint. You wanted one because the Lee girls all rode paints. That’s what you told me.”

           “Do you remember what I named her?”

           “No.” The name of his baby sister’s first horse from years and years ago was not his priority. Tommy had more than enough to worry about.

           “Liliac.��� She told him. “I’d weave lilacs in her mane. She was beautiful. Then she fell in the pasture and broke her leg.”

           Tommy didn’t need to be reminded of the memory. He remembered examining the horse’s leg. Curly called it even though it obviously pained him. Said the horse would only suffer if they kept her alive. So the horse was shot and Tommy had to return to Watery Lane and inform his sister of the news. She was heartbroken. Tommy promised to buy her another paint but that only made her cry harder.

           “I keep dreaming about her.” Ella’s voice was faint beside him. “I want to follow her but I can’t. She has two foals with her...both identical.”

           “Just a dream,” Tommy said quietly.

           She wrapped her arms around herself when a shiver went down her spine. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

           “Where’s your husband?” He asked, wondering why Ella was out so early without an escort in sight.

           “He’s trying to phone Goliath, about the fight.”

           Tommy grunted an acknowledgment.

           “You need to tell me now if this fight is more than just a boxing match.” Her tone was colder than the morning air.

           “A night of sport will keep everyone’s spirits high.” It was impossible to ignore the insincerity in his voice.

           Ella scoffed and turned away from the canal. “One of these days, Thomas, I swear to God.” She made her way through the hay and mud before she made a threat she would regret.

~~~~~~~~

           Alfie was finishing up on the phone when his wife arrived back from her walk to the Yard. “I fucking know your brother is having me calls monitored.” He complained.

           Ella hummed and slipped off her coat. “Girls in Digbeth. They fancy him so they’ll listen to all the calls that have anything remotely to do with the company.” She bent down to greet Cyril and Anthea by the door.

           Alfie grumbled a few curses under his breath. “Well, Goliath’s ready for a fight. No fucking clue what Tommy thinks he’s up to.”

           “No one knows but him.” Ella went to make herself a cup of tea. Anthea and Cyril trailed after her hoping for a biscuit or belly rubs.

           Alfie followed as well and lingered in the doorway of the tiny kitchen. He watched as she moved about the space. It was different from how she was in Camden Town. He adored hearing her flit about the warm kitchen, humming to herself, tossing Cyril a piece of whatever she was attempting to make, and cursing like a sailor if she dropped something or burned her finger.

           The kitchen on Watery Lane felt colder and she moved stiffly without a lick of joy. She was deep in her thoughts as she filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

           Alfie sighed and went to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. He pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “Talk to me, love. No use in keeping it all in that beautiful head of yours.”

           His sweet-talking didn’t conjure even a hint of a smile. “I want to go back to Margate.” She whispered.

           Her husband closed his eyes and buried his face in her recently cut hair. Her dark curls back to their usual chin-length. “I know. I’d rather be fucking anywhere but here.” He concurred. “No offense.”

          “None taken.” She muttered and rested her hands on his arms. Her fingertips grazing the cord bracelet on his wrist, reaching out towards the crown inked on his hand. “You know, my brothers were born on a boat.”

          “Huh.” Alfie wasn’t sure he’d ever heard of such a thing.

          “John, Arthur, and Tommy. Same boat. Ada was the first one of us born here. Six Watery Lane, upstairs in Tommy’s room. I was born downstairs in the betting shop, ‘course it weren’t much back then. Just some extra rooms. Finn was born in the parlor. Polly helped deliver me. She said I didn’t stop screaming for hours. My father called me a banshee and my brothers always held their hands over their ears around me.” She blinked a few times as if to pull herself out of the daze she had been in all morning. “My whole life I’ve wanted to be heard but never felt like anyone was listening.”

           “I listen, love.”

           “I know, that’s why I fell in love with you.”

           Ella chewed on her lip. “I want the children to be born in Margate.” She told her husband.

           “Yeah? Any reason?” It sounded like a good idea to Alfie but it was the first time she’d mentioned it to him. Of course they hadn’t had much time to discuss it. Tommy made them keep it hushed and Alfie was helping the Shelbys organize an army.

           “Because I want them to see the ocean once they open their eyes. I want them to see there’s much more to life than Birmingham or London.”

           Alfie nodded. “Then they’ll be born in Margate.” He was just glad she didn’t suggest the twins were born in Birmingham. His children would be born there over his dead body.

           Ella leaned into his touch. “Will you get a bottle of morphine from my brother next time you see him?”

           He frowned with distaste. “Why?”

           “Doesn’t matter.”

           Not satisfied with the answer, Alfie put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Why?” He asked more firmly.

           She looked at his face but avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the scar running down his cheek. “I’m sick of dreaming.”

           “Morphine ain’t gonna help you, El, only make it fucking worse.” He argued.

           “Well what do you suggest I do, Alfie?” She retorted. The pregnant woman was exhausted. She’d slept only a few hours before waking up in a cold sweat. The dreams had left her in such a state that she wandered the flat the rest of the night, only returning to bed when she heard Alfie stirring. With little sleep and the tense situation only getting worse, her nerves were frayed enough.

           “They’re just dreams. They shouldn’t bother you. You’ll always wake up.” He cradled her face in his calloused hands but she pushed him away.

           “Don’t tell me what should or shouldn’t bother me.” She snapped and moved away from him.

           “M’only tryna fucking help.” He threw his hands up in disbelief. “Sorry I can’t stop you from dreaming, you know that if I could I fucking would!”

           “Fuck off, Alfie. I’ll do it myself.” Ella left the kitchen.

           His jaw tightened. “I ain’t gonna have you using your brother’s fucking dope while you’re pregnant!” He shouted after her. His anger was more directed at her brothers', getting her accustomed to the use of drugs from an early age. Of course, she saw no issue with it.

           “Oh, so you control me now?” Ella laughed sarcastically and tugged her coat off the rack. “First you make me come to Birmingham and now you’re telling me what I can’t put in my body.”

           “That shit’ll do nothing but hurt you.” Alfie stormed down the hallway. It was inevitable. Small Heath was too small, too cramped. It felt like every side of the city was pushing down on him, putting so much pressure on him that he was bound to snap. The news of the pregnancy delayed the explosion for some time, but an argument only sparked it.

           “I can’t fucking sleep!” Ella yelled back at him. “You think it’s better that I can’t sleep?!”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me you couldn’t fucking sleep?” Alfie demanded and yanked the coat from her hands so she wouldn’t leave. If he had to stand between her and Tommy’s drugs he damn sure would. “You keep these things from me, Ella, then expect me to read your mind so I can fix everything!”

           Tears were flooding her blue eyes as anger coursed through every inch of her body. “Because you wouldn’t understand. You’re just as miserable here as I am!”

           “Just calm down and go sit.” He pointed towards the parlor where Cyril and Anthea were hiding out.

           “Don’t tell me what to do!” Her voice almost rattled the old flat.

           The two squared off in the foyer for a moment, neither backing down. Ella clenched her hands into fists but decided she was too tired for a screaming match. “I’m going to my aunt’s.” She didn’t even attempt to get her coat back from him.

           Alfie froze as she opened the door. “If I fucking find out that you’ve gone to your brother…”

           “What? You’ll leave me?” Ella narrowed her eyes at him.

           “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Alfie groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fine, fine! You want to go get high so you can’t fucking dream. Go right the fuck ahead. But I ain’t gonna help you when you’re coming down and realize that the world’s still the same fucking hell hole.” He turned on his heel and stomped upstairs.

           Ella made a noise of frustration and slammed the door behind her. Once the house settled, the kettle in the kitchen began to whistle.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @octaviareina​ @mylovelykelsifer​

Masterpost

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[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Eleven

So we ended the last part with the Demon Balor doing a three count... What did that mean? Well, there’s a little insight provided in this next chapter... Of course, if you don’t know what I’m talking about there, you can go back and read the previous chapters, all of which are linked in the Master List. 

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 3,027

Content advisory: Nothing in particular; It’s a horror story that involves demons (well, a demon) and there are some discussions on the subject of childbearing that might be uncomfortable but that’s it. 

It was several weeks after I discovered the baby blanket and robe that I finally decided to confront Feargal about them. I had determined that I would say nothing apart from that I had found them in the cedar chest. I was not going to mention Sophia’s invocation of the name “Colin”. I was not going to say that Kate had told me the story of Sophia’s prior obsession with a younger brother of that name. I was certainly not going to mention any part of what Susan had heard from her aunt or the villagers. I was simply going to state the facts as I would have interpreted them without any information from others. 

“My love,” I began quietly when we were retired to our room for the night, “I found these when I was making space in the cedar chest. I know that you told me that there was nothing that you wished to keep there but these looked like they might have some sentimental meaning and so I thought that I would check with you.”

My hands shook as I held the pieces out to him, scanning his face to read his reaction. If he had ever seen these objects before, there was no evidence of it. He took the fabric from me with no more than mild curiosity and it wasn’t until he started to unfold them that there was any change in his expression. When he saw the embroidery, his hand moved over his heart, still clutching at the fabric, and I was afraid that his heart might give out. 

“I’m so sorry, sir, have I done something wrong?”

He took a few deep breaths before he gave me a pained smile. “I do hope that eventually you will entirely stop calling me sir.”

I smiled and blushed a little. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong at all, Helen and I’m sorry that my reaction alarmed you.” He took my hand in his and fixed me with his boundless, clear eyes. “Just before my former wife died, she thought that she was pregnant again. Based on the signs and her experience, she was certain that it was another boy. We planned to name the baby Colin, after my father.

“But as time wore on, things became confused. She became obsessed with the child she was carrying, one day believing that it was some kind of monster and the next that everyone was conspiring to do her and the baby some kind of harm. Again, I meant to have a doctor evaluate her but then…”

His shoulders slumped and his gaze fell to the floor. “In the end, I don’t even know if she wasn’t making the whole thing up. The child could have been one more delusion. But she died before I knew for certain.”

“Feargal, I am so sorry. I am sorry that you had to go through such things and I am sorry that I inadvertently made you think of them again.”

“I found out after Sarah was gone that she’d been talking to Sophia about the new brother she could expect. For months, Sophia seemed to have this idea that both her mother and the baby were out there, that they would come back.”

I wrapped my arms around him, unable to think of anything else I could do, and held him against my body, as close as possible. He responded, pressing me flat against him and burying his face in my neck. I thought I felt him shed a couple of tears but after a minute or two, his lips twitched and I could feel a slight smile form on them. 

“How God must smile on me to have sent you here,” he murmured, lifting his head so that his lips grazed my ear when he spoke. “A woman to whom I can speak about my darkest times and whose beauty reminds me of the fact that darkness passes into light.”

I gasped at the compliment. “Oh, my love, I cannot hope to thank you enough for saying that.”

He held my face in his hands and kissed me, lips soft and pliant and yet somehow demanding. 

“There is nothing I would keep from you,” he whispered, “but if I can ask you for this one favor, I would like this to be the only time we discuss this story. Get rid of the blanket and the robe, please. I would honestly feel better without them in the house, in our house.”

I nodded and laughed a little as he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed, to our bed. 

*

I kept my promise never to mention the subject of “Colin” again with my husband. Likewise, I never mentioned it with Kate and Susan or with Sophia. But that was not to say that I did not think of it. I fretted over whether my predecessor had told the truth. I fretted over how Sophia might have perceived the stories told to her by an unreliable mother. I fretted over what had transpired in the village between Susan’s Aunt Anne and Sarah Devitt. When I tried to rest, I found myself trapped, wondering what my beloved husband knew and did not know and wondering if and how my demon lover fit into the story. 

I tried not to let my worrying distract me from the beauty of my life. I had scarcely dared imagine that I could have a husband that I loved so much, that I could be mistress of such a fine home, or that I could feel as loved and wanted as I did. Everything else, I told myself, was my imagination, something conjured by the Devil to entrap me. 

When Feargal was at home, it was easy to ignore the darkness; we would spend time together with the children and when we would retire to our room, we would make love that was tender, romantic, and like a fantasy. 

When Feargal was on the road, Balor would come. He paced his visitations so that I could never be sure when he would arrive or what he would expect from me. He would never simply allow me to participate passively. He wanted me active in our encounters, whether it was by servicing him or by becoming so excited that I would aggressively seek my own climax. He seemed as aroused by my reluctance as my excitement, which made both feel shameful to me. 

My body felt worn down as the winter wore on. I slept too little because of my dark visitor and I was always flinching from the invisible welts and cuts he left over my body. It remained cold weeks longer than usual and the coast was frequently locked in a frozen fog that made it seem even drearier. I bore up as well as I could but I felt myself growing sickly, my body like some kind of sack I was forced to drag everywhere, but also like something that was angry at me, taking out that anger by inflicting pains whatever I did. 

Kate and Susan noticed what I was going through and did what they could to help me. Susan would take the children on her walks to the market so that I could stay indoors on days when I felt weak. Kate was always coming up with excuses for me to sit near the fire in the kitchen, the warmest place in the house. 

“You’re not sick, are you?” William fretted as he showed me some stones he’d picked up on his walk with Susan. 

“No, I’ll be fine soon enough. This is my first winter by the ocean, that’s all.”

Sophia took her coat and her brother’s to put them away and he skipped off to show his new rocks to Kate.

“If you’ll pardon me for saying so, ma’am,” Susan told me once the children were out of earshot, “I don’t think it’s the ocean that’s making you sick. I think you’re in the family way.”

I was a little shocked at her impertinence but I was more astonished that this hadn’t thought of this myself. I wasn’t terribly well-informed about the signs of pregnancy but when I reflected on it, I realized that there was a very good chance Susan was right. 

“My sister Ellen had three and she was always bad at the beginning. She was so sick at first with her youngest that the doctors thought there was a problem with it but they were both fine.”

I bit my lip, trying to imagine what it would be like to go through months of this. Seeing my concern, the girl continued. 

“And she wasn’t sick the whole time, either. Just the first bit. All her children came out healthy.”

“I hadn’t thought about it. We haven't talked about having another child, the Reverend and me.”

“It’s not the talking that does the job,” she quipped.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her joke, however coarse it was. She was right. Feargal and I had done what was necessary to conceive a child many times, even if we had never discussed it as a possibility. Did that mean he would want a child with me?

Susan leaned closer and whispered, “Has it been long since you’ve bled?”

I nodded dumbly. “Longer than usual, definitely.”

She nodded and was about to speak again when the children came back into the room. I turned my attention to them and Susan left us. As I read with them and helped them with their piano practice, I tried to imagine what it would be like to make such a thing, to have one of them grow in my body and emerge as its own soul. I thought about how such a child might look, a mix of my features and Feargal’s. And at the same time, I fought back the far worse possibility, that I was pregnant with something terrible, some monster that Balor had put into me. Surely, that couldn’t happen? But if I accepted that I had had communion with some sort of demon, why couldn’t it be true? Hadn’t I engaged in the same acts with him? 

Once Susan had put the idea in my head, it was all I could think about. I had no idea if I should tell Feargal right away or wait until I was certain. Then again, I didn’t know how long it would take for me to be absolutely certain. During the days, I was able to distract myself by spending time with the children and attending to matters of the house, but at night I lay frightened in my bed, wondering what was happening inside my body. 

After three or four nights of this, it was almost a relief when I saw Balor crawl out of the shadows and onto the bed. I sast up but he immediately pushed me back down, pinning my shoulders against the bed until he was sure I would remain still. He gave a little smile that was somehow more disturbing than his usual sneer and ran his hands down my body, roughly grabbing and pinching at my breasts and finally fanning them out over my stomach. As he did, I felt something like a spark, like a candle being lit deep inside me. 

“You can feel it now, can’t you?” he hissed. 

“Get your hands off me. It’s mine, mine and Feargal’s. You’ve had your favor repaid.”

“Is that what you think, my dear? You think that this is only about you repaying a small debt? Oh no. The third one is mine and I will not be cheated again.”

“The third one? What? And how can you say I’ve cheated you?”

He cocked his head slightly, waiting for me to catch up with his meaning. As the truth dawned on me, I wished only to go back to my state of ignorance. 

“You mean the third child is yours. His third child. You intend to take it from me!”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I do and I will.”

“And if I try to stop you?”

“I hadn’t decided, but I was thinking I might take you to live with me as well,” he chuckled. “No need for more unpleasantness.”

“Unpleasantness?”

He kissed me gently, easing our lips together in a way that was more romantic than carnal, and for a moment it felt like I was embracing my beloved husband. As the kiss continued, I felt the air leaving my body and at the same time, I couldn’t force any back in. I struggled a little in his hold, growing frantic as I felt like I was suffocating or drowning until it was like something broke inside me, like I no longer needed to breathe, but that my body could simply draw what it needed with no action on my part. 

Balor pulled away slightly and I opened my eyes. We were no longer in my bed but in an ancient, overgrown forest, the tall trees eclipsing the sky above us. Looking back at me was not the seal-skinned demon but Feargal, pale and beautiful and otherworldly, exactly as he had seemed to me when I had first met him. As I stared at his face, however, I was increasingly troubled that something seemed off about him. The longer I looked, the more it became obvious that Feargal’s face was some kind of mask or disguise and as I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing, I realized that we were actually underwater, that the forest was submerged in the ocean. 

I opened my lips to scream and felt the briny water rush in, but then I was once again back in my bed, the Demon Balor perched over me with an inscrutable expression. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘more’ unpleasantness? And why did you say you wouldn’t be cheated again?” I mumbled, trying to get my bearings. 

The Demon wrinkled his nose and shot a derisive expression to the sky. “She cheated me of what was mine.”

“Colin,” I choked. 

“Mine. The third one was always to be mine.”

“But she wouldn’t let you have him.” I sat up, feeling like I was seeing something clearly for the first time. “She went to the village woman to get something to get rid of the baby. Then when that didn’t work, she ran away and drowned herself and the child she was carrying.”

He flashed his fangs at me and leapt back onto my chest, pinning my body between his thighs. A stream of hisses and snarls escaped him and small beads of spittle dropped from his lips to mine. 

I recoiled and a few tears escaped but I persisted with what I now felt was the truth. “She found a way to protect her son. But what did she owe you?”

“Silly girl. She never owed me anything. She never knew me. You’ve embraced me. You’ve given yourself over to me. You don’t have that pious reluctance in you because you know you’re ruined.”

“Get the hell out of here!” I cried at him, marveling that the sound of my voice when he was near never woke the others in the house. “I won’t let you take this child! I would let you hurt us! I pray I never see you again and if I do I shall make certain to send you back to Hell forever.”

Grinning, he withdrew from the bed and back into the shadows. 

“Soon enough,” he rasped in parting. “We shall meet again soon enough.”

*

When Feargal made it home at the end of his travels that week, he was shocked to find me awake and fully dressed, waiting for him with a pot of tea. 

“My love, you look distraught. Has something happened?”

I hardly knew where to begin but knowing his preference for the practical, I chose to start there. 

“The Church has been promising since before we were married that they would find someone to take on some of the work you’ve been doing, so that you could spend more time at home.”

“I know,” he responded sadly. “I should have followed up with them and asked what they’ve been doing about it. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I’ve avoided being here with you.”

“It’s not that I want you at home, Feargal,” I snapped, immediately feeling guilty when I saw his hurt expression. “I mean, it’s not just that I want you near me. If it were just me, I could find a way to bear it but I’m afraid… My love, I think I’m… I have a baby in me. Our baby. And I want to know that you’ll be here for us and that you want this.”

“Want this?” he repeated incredulously. “How could I not want this?”

He crossed the room and ran his hand over my stomach as if it were something magical. 

“Are you certain?” 

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to be certain. I have all the signs. My body feels different to me. I know we’ve… I know almost nothing about children but I believe that’s what’s happening.”

“Oh love,” he touched his lips to mine and took me in his arms. “Don’t fear. I shall write to the Church tomorrow and insist that they send someone right away.” He trailed kisses down the length of my neck, smiling at the soft mewls it elicited from me. “At the very worst, if you aren’t with child now, we could use the extra time to make sure we get you that way.”

I gasped at the implication, only for him to pull me into a passionate kiss. 

“You can’t imagine how much I miss you when I’m away,” he whispered, pushing himself flush against me. “I think of you all the time.”

He caught both of my arms in a firm grip and guided me upstairs to our bedroom, the wild, hungry glint in his eyes offering me a clear preview of what was in store. 

“I’m glad you stayed up,” he told me.

[sebbytrash]

Through His Eyes - Part Thirteen

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Angst (Is there every not?), flashbacks, nightmares, sexual content

A/N -  Sorry its been forever, again. Pregnancy has kicked my ass. This may be a tiny bit self indulgent, I’m sure you wont mind.  Feedback loved and appreciated.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

It’s quiet when you get back, the day turned into night somewhere along those streets as you sped past, taking the time to quietly pack away your feelings from the day. Getting your house in order before you can face anyone. Bucky stays silent, even after the bike is safely stowed and your walking the corridors back to your room. He hovers close by though, like he expects your legs to stop working at any point. (You’re OK with that.)

Steve is on the couch, takes one look at you both and opens his mouth to ask, his back instantly tight but you interrupt before he can. Quickly and quietly explain where you were and he just looks for a few seconds, eyes flicking between you and Bucky close behind you, says nothing except stretches out an arm and lets you curl up beside him. Bucky follows, that invisible rope that ties him to you pulled tight and sinks in beside you, sinks heavy like the moments of the day are strung from him like boulders. He pulls a blanket from somewhere and tucks it over you. Warm, safe.

You stay like that for a long time, watching episode after episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine because Steve knows it’ your favorite letting the rough edges of the day get forcibly smoothed by the laughter and lightness. The others join after a while, not knowing what’s wrong but knowing enough and knowing that company cures like nothing else. Sat here on this couch, surrounded by your friends, your family, you couldn’t feel further from that girl in the room. Their smiles, their hugs, their love… and even those fingers that grip yours under the blanket like he might disappear without them, they all remind you of how far you’ve come. It’s with your fingers still gripped in his that you wake some time later, head tucked against him with the blanket under your chin. The T.V is off and the room is empty, the air still enough that you know the others have been gone for a while, no doubt unwilling to disturb you, knowing how precious sleep is to you, to him. You stay there for minutes, longer, just listening to his breathing, in, out, deep, steady.

It’s wonderful.

It’s terrifying.

You feel as much as you hear the shift in his breathing when he wakes, the stillness that sweeps from those fingertips to his toes like he is all too aware of how close his face is to yours. You know he hears the shift in your own breathing when his fingers twitch against yours, grip just a little tighter before relaxing again, the only betrayal of thought or feeling. Perhaps it’s intentional, given his usual mastery over his reactions, his expressions. Showing only what he’s willing, an offered glimpse between his fingers.

That familiar tightness arrives, the sharp edged wire pushing at your skin. Pleading.

Even though today (yesterday?) was cleansing, healing, it was still painful and you were still so raw, exposed. Emotions laid bare, heightened, and so it’s that knowledge that forces you to fake a yawn and a stretch, a cartoon version of yourself waking up even though you know he knows you were awake the whole time. He lets you play it out unchallenged, accepts your smile with one of his own, his face shows no trace of whatever passed between those fingertips. Just that quiet, easy smile.

There are words poised on your tongue, waiting and willing to be said. It takes a lions worth of will to master it and let loose only those you choose to.

“I didn’t say it earlier, but thank you Bucky. For coming to get me.” He does a half sort of shrug like its no big deal and that action alone makes you want to clarify that you know, that you understand what it must have cost him, “I know it wouldn’t have been easy for you either.”

He stills at that, swallows loudly, or maybe just swallows but the sound reverberates into the silence of the room.

“I wasn’t afraid to go back there,” He says, and then adds “I’ve been back there.” The admission doesn't surprise you the way it should. Of course he has, hell bent on punishing himself for actions he was an unwilling party to. You wonder how many other places he’s forced himself to relive. How many wounds he has picked at.

His jaw twitches and he glances away like he’s unsure or working up the nerve, “I was afraid... that when I got there, you would hate me again.”

The ground shifts as the words cleave you in two, shower those pieces in such conflicting emotions that you feel both weighted and weightless. You cling desperately to those fractured pieces, having already lost too much of you and so unwilling to lose anymore.

You stand, probably too quickly to be casual and force yourself to look back to him. “I won’t,” you say, so that he knows and then thoughtlessly add, “I can’t.” Not even if I wanted to, the unsaid words hang in the air. You leave him there, between one blink and the next.

Copper. Salt. Dirt.

I’m sorry

I’m so sorry

Please

Please wake up

The dream voice stays long after you gasp awake, the desperation follows you as you shift and turn and try to find sleep again. The haunting echo that you know originates from deep inside a suppressed memory rather than something conjured by your sleep deprived brain. It’s minutes, hours later and it still won’t leave. That desperate plea, like nails on the already worn chalkboard of your skull.

You pace. And pace some more.

It won’t leave. He won’t leave. Your skin vibrates with all that tension from the last few days, rolls like the feeling is alive and you might see the waves across it, scattering and crashing against each other down your arms and across your chest. You drag your fingers down your arms, wishing, hoping that it might ease it.

It doesn’t.

The tension morphs and fights, coils down your gut like you absorbed all the energy of the sun and now its fighting its way out, demanding a release. Like you might boil alive with the effort to contain it. You bow over with it, the force of that energy, feel the blood rush and then finally, you unleash and throw your fist into the wall with a sickening thud. The pain lances through your knuckles, pieces of wall falling away as your free them and the familiar warmth of blood drips down your fingers. The energy roars its victory, like a Lion offered a pound of flesh to sate its hunger. It’s barely taken the edge off, barely scratched the surface.

You know then what you have to do, what it’s going to take to release all the energy, feeling.

A mountain of force.

Your feet move without thought, carrying you swiftly down halls and past doors until you reach it. The other door that altered your life irrevocably. A small part of you urges, begs you not to do this. Begs you to walk away, that this is not the answer.

The lion prowls, barely contained enough for you to knock on the door and to wait those two precious seconds it takes for him to open it. He’s not surprised to see you there, you can tell in his eyes he expected it. There’s no wariness in him, nothing tentative like something has changed, shifted between you. He’s not afraid.

He should be.

You consider briefly what you must look like to him, standing in a tank top and shorts, chest heaving like you’ve run the length of the earth to get there, fist clenched and still dripping blood, that ferocious energy burning you from inside out.

He eyes that fist, clenched so hard your nails were making half-moon indents in your palm, the skin threatening to break  and takes a step forward, then another until his chest was touching yours. The energy absorbs him, swallows him up until your both thrumming with it. Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out and wraps his hand around your fist, brings it up so he can see as he smoothes out your fingers and runs his own across those indents. He watches you, not your joined hands, as he brings broken knuckles to his mouth and places the softest kiss across them, eyes burning like frozen flames.

Its fire, and fury, and everything you know it shouldn't be for something so tame and yet more intimate than anything else before. You silence the voice in your head and let go of that wire you carefully walk, consequences be damned.

A step, yours or his or maybe both, and then his lips find yours and the hard edges start to blurr. Your palms meet his chest and spread whilst you kiss him with a fervor you have no right to feel. He kisses you back with a twin intensity that terrifies you and yet thrills you. You urge him backward just as his fingers pull you forward, the door to his room shut swiftly behind as you clear the threshold. His fingers dance under the hem of your tank, betraying his struggle for control as they dig and release into your skin. His mouth, his skin, it chases everything else away, there’s only this feeling and nothing else. Its intoxicating. Except this time, you ignore the voice that says stop, you throw yourself into that feeling entirely and let your fingers slip up his neck and into his hair, search and find that low groan you’ve wondered about ever since that night in the gym. Marvel at how it sounds even better than before, at how the sound itself pulls a matching one of your own.

You slip a hand down and give a gentle tug on the collar of his t-shirt, unwilling to break contact to convey your meaning. He hesitates for a second and you wonder if he’s going to be the one who stops this when he pulls back but only so he can pull the t-shirt off and let it drop to the floor. When you meet his eyes, you see the quiet apprehension and you realise the reason for his hesitation, that you’ll see him, that’ll you’ll see what they did to him.

Without pause, you bridge the space between you and kiss him again, softer this time but with no less intensity and let your fingertips glide down his neck, smooth along the hard scar tissue across his shoulder and then let your lips follow the same path. Slowly, you kiss the worst of the scars, Bucky’s breath hitching with each one and the, bring your lips back to his only to find him eagerly waiting, his mouth on yours with such force that you sway backwards with the movement but he catches you, uses that momentum to lift you at the same time he backs you both towards his bed. He sits with you, letting your thighs tuck tight against his as his hands slide up your back. You wonder if it’s deliberate, how you are seated, if somehow he’s giving you control even when you don’t need it. You ignore the pang in your heart at that thought and throw yourself further into the feeling, hips grinding down as Bucky kisses and nips his way down your neck.

His hand climbs your back and gently push the strap of your tank to the side, the metal fingers hot against your already heated skin and his lips like a brand as they follow those same fingers. You head tips back and a soft moan escapes as his teeth graze along your collarbone, he hums in agreement, his other fingers sliding up your ribcage till his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. It’s too much and yet still not enough, you grip his head and tilt him back to you so you can press your lips to his again, biting down on his lip just enough to have his fingers inch higher, press and circle and pull low, aching moans from you. You get lost in the feel of him, his hands and lips, the tank stripped from you in one fluid motion that you would never have managed on your own, his mouth working your skin as your own fingers grip his hair and neck. Holding on as this broken man makes you feel like his lips and tongue might be the thing that puts you back together after they take you apart completely.

Its minutes, hours, seconds later and he grips you and turns, placing you with more care than he should on the bed and settling his weight over you, eyes searching yours for the fear you don’t own anymore, looking at you in a way that has you pulling him down to you so you don’t have to think about it, urging him with your hips and relishing the way he shudders with each roll. He tugs you with him as he moves to the side, hiking you leg up over his hip and gripping your ass under those shorts, moaning his appreciation into your mouth. Those fingers move closer and suddenly still, a tenseness in him that has you pulling back to look at him, a question in your eyes that your afraid to voice.

He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, swallows once before whispering, “Maybe I should...change sides.”

It takes a second to understand his meaning, that he was once again worried about you, about how you might react to him and the fact that it's his metal hand inched under your shorts. You ache at his fear, that you put it there, that he put yours there too. Ache for what they took from you both. In answer, you cup his jaw and watch as his eyes open, hesitant but steady, ready to do whatever to make you comfortable, “Your right where I want you to be.”

His eyes dart between yours and whatever he sees is the confirmation he needs, the fire back in his veins as he kisses you with that force again, fingers reaching under and moving against you in a way that has you wondering if it had ever felt this good, if anyone had ever known exactly how to touch you. You let your hands wander over his chest, losing minutes in the feel of that solid, gritty muscle under your fingertips, your nails. He brings you higher, tongue and teeth and those ever proficient fingers, pushing you to places where shadows didn’t exist and demons have no power. The world tilts as you break, nails digging in like you might lose gravity and float off on the feeling alone. Forehead touches and nose nudges, lips hovering and taking, the world realligning underneath you. He looks at you that way again and your pretty sure you are looking back just the same.

It’s no more than a minute before the heady feeling has your hands wandering, urging him to rid himself of the sweatpants he’s still wearing and following the movement with your eyes, taking all his lines and solidness, the ache coiling down your spine with the way you want him, need him. He makes quick work of your own shorts, settling over you and gathering up your hips and thighs with such care at the odds with the way he nuzzles into your neck, teeth grazing and owning. He gathers himself up onto his forearms till he’s eye level and watches as he pushes into you, groans when your breath hitches and watches you fight against the urge to close your eyes and revel in the feeling. He rolls forward and up, taking all thoughts with him, carries the same momentum into a rhythm that matches the hunger in his eyes. He forces low, greedy sounds from your throat, seals his mouth over your like he’s trying to keep them, breathing turned harsh in the shared space between. This. This is the feeling you needed, the leftover energy disappearing with each delicious roll of his hips, with each nip of his teeth and growl from between. His flesh hand is swallowed up by your hair, his metal one sliding up your arm till his fingers are linked with yours, pressing your joined hands into the mattress above your head. Your free hand grips his waist as your hips match his, pushing together to work that fire over your body and into your bones, any resemblance of control slipping away beneath the sweat on your skin. Your legs begin to tremble as you near that edge, you feel his hips falter in response and then grind deeper, following that feeling like he's desperate, like you are too. The edge crumbles beneath you, falling further than you thought was possible, consumed by it, the fire, letting it take your harshness and your fury with it. It takes only a look from you before Bucky is tumbling down after you, shoulders hunching up close to your head as you feel every bit of him melt, feel his muscles settle against yours like thats where they’re meant to be.

He leans his forehead against yours, again, and you try not to notice how good it feels, trying to reclaim some of that control you so freely gave up. He kisses you, soft, enduring, the kind that has your heart beating erratically in your chest but still, you let him. Let him tuck you into his side and draw lazy circles on your back, let him place a kiss to your forehead with an intimacy you have no right sharing. You know you shouldn’t, but you let him anyway, because maybe, just maybe, you need it too.

The thought terrifies you. It thrills you.

Forever Tags:  @manawhaat @captainrogerss  @theashhole @a-little-hell-to-raise  @peculiar-persephone  @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @samingtonwilson @vintagevalentinexx @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @buckthegrump @avengerofyourheart  @carriefish-er @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv   @angelicthor   @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787    @sexyvixen7 @jobean12-blog  @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbakers @earinafae @crushed-pink-petals @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith @itsonlysarah @superwholocknda @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @notsoprettykitty @wickedwerewolf @ayeputita @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky  @tatalopes23 @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @standing-onthe-edge @ruinerofcheese @rosescentedblood @mysweetcookie99

[bangtanfancamp]

✨This or That!✨

Hello loves, I was tagged literal ages ago by @curly-bangtan (who is such a sweet human btw! Thank you for the tag :’) it’s impossibly sweet of you) and am in the backseat while road trippin so I’ve finally got some free time to fill this out! I’m so excited !! I love these things !so without further ado🙃 Lessss gooooo

• slow burn or love at first sight

I guess to clarify, I love an instant spark of attraction and a long treacherous road to resolution- while also being painfully obvious that there is attraction and also while being overtly flirty but no one has the emotional motor skills to just be upfront about it already

•fake dating or secret dating

Oh, 1,000,000% fake dating. It is one of the single greatest regrets of my life that no one has ever asked me to be their fake date or gf. Because I would have been F A N T A S T I C at it. But I guess I’ll never get to live out that pretend to real slowburn in real life after all.... also, secret dating can feel really sucky and isolating so I don’t recommend.

•enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

Oh god, must I really pick between my children? My whole life it was best friends to lovers. Now that I am currently dating the guy who was my best friend, I really melt over the fiery tension of enemies to lovers ... GOD! it’s so satisfying!!! But I think best friends to lovers still has to squeak by just by an ounce. (I’m a softy at heart, what can I say?)

•oh no! There’s only one bed or long distance with correspondence

Oh far and away, the one bed trope! No contest. I also deeply regret that I haven’t figured out how to make myself attractive enough for someone to try to pull this one over on me. *sigh* well, what can you do? .... also, did a long distance relationship for...6.5 years? And yeah, if you’re a romantic like me- it is dreadfully unfulfilling, let me tell you.

•Hurt/comfort or Amnesia

Mother freaking amnesia A L W A Y S !!! Heck yes! Are there amnesia fics??? 🤭I’ve never found one! But I absolutely love this trope in stories and movies. One of my all time favorites- which AGAIN- has not had the decency to actually come to fulfillment in my real life: Like why has park Jimin never showed up spontaneously at one of my doctors appointments trying to convince me that we’ve been best friends who were secretly in love with other since we were 14 and we finally just got engaged or married a month ago and his life is incomplete without me but he’ll patiently wait for me to love him in return again in my own time but in the meantime, he’ll love me in any and every little way he can until I fall for him again? Huh? Where is it! .... was that too specific😅?

•Fantasy au or modern au

no contest. Give me medieval maidens and dragons any day. I live in modern day. Lemme tell you- she ain’t that special.

•mutual pining or domestic bliss

cue Schmidt from new girl-“I can do this AWL day, son- AWLLL DAY!!” Yessssss!!! Mutual pining is my crack! Give it to me! Always! Gimme it! (Why can’t I have the things that I want!) okay this is just a Schmidt quote/rant post now. ..... I really want to love domestic bliss. And some of the writers who are excellent at it absolutely take my breath away at how beautifully they romanticize the every day. But outside of their writing, I have no scope of how to conjure that wonder up on my own. It is a skill I deeply lack. In real life, I just wind up feeling like the bliss is boring- gimme some pining! Some angst! Some tension!!! Even if I do love me some fluff. Someone once I told me that I was in love with the idea of someone being in love with me. Gotta say, he’s not wrong.

•canon compliant or fix it fic

Honestly, I can’t say I’ve read very many of either. But I do like to see how people flex their creativity.

•alternate universe or future fic

My favorite tv show of all time is Fringe (god bless you, JJ Abrams). Your girl LOVES alternate timelines, multiple universes, flashpoint, paradox, butterfly/ripple effect- all of it!! Dear god, yes! Give it to me! (Also, every time I have a crush or dream that doesn’t work out, I comfort myself with the thought that somewhere out there, there’s an alternate timeline version of me that is happily existing with said boy or flourishing in said dream endeavor. It’s a tremendous source of comfort).

Although, I must say, in the comic realm, alternate universes can sometimes frustrate me- like genuinely, could we not just make the alpha timeline the most incredible one? Instead of the best relationships and plot threads never being actual canon?! Can we get it together??? Or are alternate timelines just the comic industry’s way of writing their own fix it fics, generations after the original protagonist has been painted into a corner. Also, how hard must that be? To write endlessly for the same character for 60+ years? We write one fic or a couple books for the same character... could you IMAGINE having to supply 60 years worth of consistent weekly or monthly context!!! Wild

•one shot or multi chapter

I prefer multi chapter because I prefer getting engrossed in an entire work/world. Usually I am left wanting with a well written one shot, because they’ve made it so real that I can’t stand not having more- so my greedy butt loves the feast of multi chapter so I can have as many delicious moments and details with these characters as possible.

I do however deeply admire the skill and brevity it takes to made a succinct one shot. @underthejoon and @kpopfanfictrash are both brilliant as heck at that. And it is admirable as all get out.

•kid fic or road trip fic

honestly, considering how much I swoon over men who are good with children in real life, and how much I look forward to being both pregnant and a mom one day, I really never get into kid or pregnancy fics. I just don’t? Don’t know why. But a road trip!???? Oh heck yes!!! 👏🏽Where 👏🏽do 👏🏽I 👏🏽sign 👏🏽up!!???👏🏽

•reincarnation or character death

Oh absolutely reincarnation. I love that. I blame sailor moon for that.....But also, I think it’s just very in line with my love of alternate universes and timelines. I love how everything is connected/weaves together and feels predestined in the best way. I’m a complete sucker for it

•arranged marriage or accidental marriage

Like @curly-bangtan I legit had no clue accidental marriage was a thing? Unless you count being drunk at Vegas and waking up with a ring or we’re on some Jacob and Leah/Rachel level ish (which is really and truly the WILDEST™️ story ever ya’ll) ..... but I love a good arranged marriage scenario. The tension/push pull and inevitable relenting is so fun. But will say though, why the heck do women always fight it? Like there’s literally a whole Kim taehyung or Kim Namjoon offering to voluntarily love you and you wanna whine about it???!?! How dare you

•high school romance or Middle Aged romance

This, again, one is a pretty firm, resolute one for me. I’ll take high school. I’ve always felt a little oddly uncomfortable with more mature™️ romance stories? Not sure why. But I think the really beautiful ones always hark back to the beauty of their feelings being refreshing like the innocence of their first love. I know I personally can over glorify youth, but I love coming of age romance (high school, college, twenties) and no one can stop me!!!! I will say though, I have a secret soft spot for the niche of story where people have loved the same person since they were young and the timing just never works out but they finally find each other when they’re older. (One day is like that, and film or movie, it will absolutely rip your heart out-my god, it’s beautiful)

•Time travel or isolated together

These are both freaking AMAZING! But if anything has been established in this post, I think it’s my deep love of alternate timeline/reincarnation/time travel stories. I think they’re all from the same cloth. I adore them (I just haven’t written one because I’m not sure I could do the subtlety of it any justice.) maybe one day. My favorite writers are rumored to have the same Myers’s Briggs type as me so maybe I too could someday have a fraction of their world building skill.

I 100% love both of these so neither is a loser. But give me isolated together AND one bed in the same fic???? Speakers blown

•neighbors or roommates

I have never had the pleasure of having an attractive neighbor, though I often pined for it. (I have a bomb idea for a neighbor Hobi fic though) I did have a cute neighborhood boy who occasionally cut the grass for us in high school. But that doesn’t really count.... anyway! I LOVE the idea of being roommates with an attractive boy!!! Like holy guac, can I please????? Cocktailing this trope makes me swoon harder than none other- best friends to lovers + roommates? Yes. Enemies to lovers + roommates? Holy heck. Soulmate au + roomates???? Hold my sweet tea. MUTUAL PINING AND ROOMATES!!!! Pregnant. Fantasy/magic au+ mutual pining + best friends to lovers + soulmate au + reincarnation + roommate au!?!?!?!! frickin dead in the streets, homie.

I cannot say enough how much I enjoy roomate au. In a serious conversation, I once legitimately told my current boyfriend that the idea of marriage freaks me out- but the idea of being best friend roomates with sexual tension sounds like a dream come true. God help me.

•sci fi or magic au

I love sci fi. Deeply. But I will never love logic more than magic. Ever. (All my infp’s! come join me in the comments. 🙈)

•body swap or gender bend

Body swap has always deeply intrigued me. Especially in film. But I’ve never seen it in a fic. I’ve always wanted somebody to be able to switch into my body to feel physically, mentally and emotionally like i do. The deepest level of empathy & jean grey telepathy if you ask me, even if the trope is generally used for comedy. But the idea of switching into a dudes body and having to deal with their anatomy low key freaks me the eff out. If I got stuck in jungkooks body, I don’t think I’d pee or shower for a week 🙈 sorry everybody. I was really sheltered ok? Please don’t come for me. Lol...... also, have never seen a gender bend fic. Not sure how that would work. Not my favorite idea.

•angst or crack

Angst is my crack.

Honestly though, if it’s well written, it doesn’t feel ‘angsty’- cuz that means whiny or clunky to me. Well written ‘angst’ just feels emotionally compelling, I think. My writing weirdly leans toward what I hope is real angst (I e solid, genuine conflict and not petulance), but when I seek out a read, I look for crack honestly.

• apocalyptic or mundane

I offer you one better- a love story of the beauty of the mundane amidst the apocalyptic.

*mic drop*

Seriously though, the setting provides enough tension usually. Especially if it’s zombie apocalyptic. Just let jungkook’s fingers delicately trace my palm and smile, sweet and lopsided at me in the candle light, while we hide away in our little bomb shelter that I’ve turned into a jungle garden to bring life into this wasteland a la secret life of arrietty. sigh. Maybe I need to write this....

My gosh!!! We made it to the end! That was so much fun! Thank you for tagging me, sweetness!💕✨ 🙂

I’ll add a tag list shortly- @laurelevermore @lamourche @bts-fantasy @urlocalkpoptrash @thedreaming-poet @kimcheeeeeeeeee @hayjeon @outrotearot7 @lorengarcia-yut @bts-luvvv @chicpalestinian @flyingchixenwing @glodenclosetau @space-mermaid-in-love @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife @minminslittlemonster

Copy and paste if you can. Or if you’re dealing with a piece of technological antiquity like me and it won’t let you, then screen record/screenshot it and pop back and forth between the tabs 😅(also Thanks for dealing with the completely unnecessary treatise I added beneath every bullet point. It was just so much for fun to explain WHY I chose each one than to just say yes/no. I’ve said it before, written brevity is just not my strong suit.)

[hobiwonder]

Baby, Baby | 03 (m)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: Surrogacy AU

Warnings: Smut, Fluffffff. A bit of Angst. Oral, m x m. pregnancy kink is a big one in this and the one after, lactation.

Words: 12k

Summary: When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

A/N: This was getting too long so i ended up splitting the last part in two. have an early gift and an apology for being so gloomy these days. feedback appreciated my loves. :)

“Do you think she heard us?” Jimin questions Taehyung after he closes the door of your room gently, letting you stay asleep for longer. They walk quietly back to the kitchen before Taehyung speaks again.

“Babe,” a knowing smirk is appearing on his face, “You werepretty loud last night.” And that earns him a swat across his chest, to which he chuckles while Jimin’s face turns a pretty rosy color. But it may not have been from the teasing words, because Jimin is going silent for the next few minutes while he picks at the piece of waffle he’s cut out. His mouth is set in a slight purse, as if he were deep in thought and his eyes look glazed over. Taehyung watches carefully as Jimin clears his throat before catching Taehyung staring.

“What?” He questions and Taehyung simply shrugs. Genuinely not being able to answer him as to why he was staring at him so attentively. Come to think of it, they were both acting weird.

“I… I did some research and found that some women get quite aroused during pregnancy.” Jimin explains, taking a mouthful of waffle as he stares right back at Taehyung’s similarly tense, unreadable face.

“That’s… unfortunate.” Taehyung clears his throat before slowly knifing a piece of his waffles as well, slower than he usually ate. “Especially since she doesn’t have a um,-”

“Partner to… helpout.” Jimin finishes his sentence for him, watching Taehyung with hungry eyes, oddly feeling the need to have him instead of his favorite breakfast. Which arguably, could alsobe Taehyung.

“Yeah, exactly. So she must be frustrated.” Jimin nods along to this.

“Poor thing,” He gets up, waffles forgotten as he clears his plate and puts it in the dishwasher. The cleaning staff had an off day on the weekends and Jimin didn’t mind doing the household chores. “She must have heard us, babe.” Taehyung stops chewing when Jimin confirms his suspicions. And then he sighs, closing his eyes to push down the wave of desire washing over him when he thinks about you going off in to your room, touching yourself to the thought of him and Jimin ravishing each other.

Jimin is watching his boyfriend visibly trying to contain himself. He’d known Taehyung long enough to recognize each shift in his expression, no matter how miniscule it may be. And he knew that his boyfriend was aroused. So Jimin walks over to the other side of the kitchen island where he sat, standing behind him before gently massaging his shoulders.

“Do you think,” Taehyung sounds breathless as he spoke and it only spikes Jimin’s yearning for him – and you, if he was honest with himself – even further before Taehyung continues, “She was thinking about us?”

There is an unspoken assumption in his words that Jimin understands. And he is almost positive that;

“Yes,” he leans down to Taehyung’s ear, pressing a sweet kiss behind his lobe, “I think she touched herself to the image of you fucking me.”

The sexual tension in the room is formidable. It felt as if both men had just started to become intimate with each other with the way they were building up to what would inevitably happen – which would be both of them scampering off to the bed room to fuck each other’s brains out. And it was mysterious how just the thought of you touching yourself to the image of them in the act was arousing them both so much that they couldn’t even have a proper conversation before needing to have their hands on each other. In an instant, Taehyung is spinning around in his chair, breakfast all but forgotten as he tugs Jimin closer by the waist, hands lifting up his muscular thighs until he is straddling his own.

“I read that the ache that women feel during this time can be excruciating sometimes. Taking a while to dull the need.” Jimin says this all the while massaging Taehyung’s tense shoulders and pressing deep kisses on his neck, making the man groan in satisfaction.

“Do you think that she,” he moans when Jimin sucks a particular spot on his neck, “touched herself until s-she came?” Jimin moans out on Taehyung’s skin when he finishes speaking. Something letting loose in his brain as he is kissing him hard on the mouth, hands crawling all over his shoulders, chest and then finally – palming the large tent in his trousers.

“I think that’s exactly what she did babe,” he’s panting, feeling such an intense need for Taehyung that he can’t stop himself from tilting his head and taking his lips between his own again for another deep peck. “The way her hand was between her legs… I bet she rubbed her little clit until she was drenching our sheets with her cream.”

Taehyung is losing his mind and letting out a loud moan as Jimin is back to ravishing his neck, which is prompting Jimin to pull back – only to smirk at him.

“Careful babe, now who’s being too loud.” Taehyung is growling lowly in his chest looking down between them as Jimin’s hand is slipping inside his pants, running down the girthy length and doubling the pleasure since Taehyung is already thinking about you. You, throwing back your head in a silent scream as you brought yourself to orgasm by just your hand. Knowing how delectable you would’ve looked with desire all over your pretty face. “Or maybe you want her to hear? Want her to catch us so we can relieve allher aches. Make her feel nice and sated.” Taehyung can tell that Jimin is toying with the idea of having you share the bed with them, watching Taehyung’s expression as he whispers the scandalous words to him when he can barely comprehend what’s happening. The pre-cum leaking from the tip aiding Jimin’s movements.

“A-Ah, maybe I do. F-Fuck.” Taehyung’s half annoyed, half challenging tone has Jimin smirking to himself, confirming his doubts that Taehyung was also partial to you.

“Yeah, baby? Can you imagine how nice and warm and wet she would be?” The slick sounds of Jimin’s hands on Taehyung’s length are maybe slightly muted through the fabric but it won’t be long until he’s soaking through his pants which he did not want to. Not when they were openly and stupidly doing this again in the kitchen.

“Her pussy would be so soft,” Jimin is not only torturing Taehyung, but himself also. He’s quickly getting lost in the fantasies that slip through his own plush lips – images of you so vivid in his mind, especially after seeing you the way they both did not long ago. “We would slip right in Taehyungie.” He moans in his ear, and Tae hisses when Jimin slips his thumb over his sensitive tip, “And the best part is,” he leans close to Taehyung’s parted lips, “She’d be so sweet and ready for it.”

“Oh fuck!” Taehyung is yelling in surprise when he’s pushed over the edge by Jimin’s tantalizing words, spilling in his trousers and soiling them completely. And they both don’t have much time to recuperate because the noise of a door opening quickly has them separating; Jimin patting himself down and getting up while Taehyung spins his chair right around – effectively hiding the wet patch in front of his sleep trousers in time of your arrival.

“Is everything okay? I heard a scream.” It takes them both a few moments to even conjure up a response when they take in your sleepy face, hair a wavy mess and the sleep shirt you wore resting just above your belly – exposing the lovely bump in your stomach that stood out from the rest of your otherwise small frame. And when Jimin glances towards Taehyung – he can’t help but smile at his boyfriend – who was usually as grumpy as the Kims came – looking absolutely and completely smitten with you. Or maybe it was lust. But whatever it was, it made Jimin feel enlivened. He felt the energy in the room shift a little when he sees you take in Taehyung’s flushed face and Jimin standing so close to him – making your eyes widen slightly. Jimin wonders what you’ve just thought about then because suddenly, you look panicked.

He smirks, having a guess or two in his mind about what’s troubling you.

Something felt… off. In your conscious as well as in the air right then and there as you looked between Taehyung – who was watching you like he was drunk – and Jimin smirking while he walked back behind the island, turning on the stove to make what you presumed was your breakfast. You were still sleepy but the loud noise had woken you up enough – even through the closed door – that you had to walk out to check what really was going on.

Avoiding Taehyung’s gaze, you walk towards the island – taking a seat furthest from him on the bar stool, bringing a hand to the hem of your shirt to pull it down slightly to cover the bump that made you blush no matter how much you tried to tell yourself that it was still going to be there. That was the whole point of this. But it still made you shy whenever Jimin would stroke your belly in passing or even if Taehyung just glanced at it whenever you all spent time together.

“Everything is just fine.” Jimin looks up to send a reassuring smile while pouring pancake batter in the pan as it sizzles away. The smell made your tummy rumble loudly. God, you were always so hungry in the morning. “Why don’t you go wash up, y/n? I’ll make the yummiest pancakes you’ve ever had,” he gives a look to Taehyung who rolls his eyes in response, “set up for you.”

Yeah. Taehyung tried to make you breakfast one day when Jimin had to be away and he had proudly proclaimed that he’s a good cook. Spoiler alert: he was not. Though you felt a bit dizzy, but knew you should probably wash up before they picked up on how… pungent you smelled from your indulgence last night.

“Okay,” you’re tiredly responding, still looking at nothing in particular, feeling achy all over. Your breasts were sore, your feet felt like they had blood pooled in them even if you stood for more than 10 minutes and all you wanted to do was get a shoulder massage. Or just a massage in general. When you push your shoulders back, pushing your chest out to get the cramps out of your joints, Taehyung has finally snapped out of whatever daydream he had been in, getting up from his stool to walk over to you in concern.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to carry you to the bathroom?” You’re shaking your head in surprise at his offer. But he’s still standing right next to you, looking down at you with his head tilted slightly to inspect your face of any discomfort.

“N-No that’s okay. I’m just tired all over. It’s normal,” you’re smiling up at Taehyung while patting your tummy, hoping that it will convince him to not pick you up because you knew that if he deemed it necessary, he would. The man rarely took suggestions from others.

“Tae, baby, run her a warm bath. She looks like she needs it.” You’re protesting but both of them are ignoring your little whines of ‘I’m fine’ and pouts while Taehyung only nods, grabbing your arm to help you stand up gently as he walks you back to their bathroom. Wait. Why were you going to their ensuite?

“Um, Tae?”

“Hm?” He continues to walk to his and Jimin’s bedroom, heading straight for the master suite while you stand dumbly in the doorway.

“I can just bath in my the one in my room…?” You half-question, hesitant to go in.

“You could.” He nods while turning on the faucet, using the touchscreen pad to set the temperature for the ridiculously modern bathtub all the while you just stand there, in your too short shirt, probably smelling like a pervert from all your perverse activities last night.

Oh god.

You gasp when it suddenly dawns on you. The door to your room was open when you had gone to bed.

But it was closed when you had woken up.

“You okay there?” Taehyung is chuckling at your horrified expression, when he walks out of the bathroom and sighs when you don’t walk in any further than the doorway still. “Come on. We don’t have anything scandalous that’ll scar you forever okay? I swear Jimin and I lead a normal couple life.”

God. His smile was so beautiful. The way he always tilted his head when he talked and especially when he smiled along with it; it had your heart going in to overdrive. And once again, you know you’re over thinking it. Both men had to take care of you. It wasn’t as if it was anything more. So finally, you walk ahead, slow tentative steps as you step into the bathroom that’s nice and cozy. And not to forget – huge. It has the biggest bathtub you’ve ever seen and you’re sure you can fit more than two people in there. Maybe him and Jimin took baths together often.

Oh no. There goes your hormonal mind again. Jimin. Taehyung. Naked. In a bath, wet and-

“Y/n? You want to get in while I go grab you some clothes?”

“Y-Yes, ok.” Your reply is mumbled and you refuse to look at Taehyung, knowing that the flush on your cheeks will give away that something definitely isn’t right with you. Which would lead to more questions and then consequently – you being weirder again.

He’s already gone while you watch the bubbles fill up the bath tub. Looking very inviting and you know it will be good for your tired limbs. This baby was getting quite big already and you were only 16 weeks in as of that day. Plus, you were noticing the extra weight on the rest of your body, and your skin was increasingly getting oilier despite being inside all day, save for the two days you went to a few hours of classes. You’re in the middle of shimmying out of your pants when you hear footsteps approaching, prompting you to pull them back up like an idiot. Why would Taehyung care seeing you naked? Ugh, maybe one of the effect of pregnancy was losing braincells too.

But you’ve forgotten that you’re wearing an unpadded bra that holds your breasts in, the understrap ending just above where your bump started.

“Oh, sorry…. I should have… knocked.” He’s not really paying attention to your face when he apologizes, carefully watching the bump – which isn’t that big yet but still very noticeable. Your heart rate is spiking up its pace again when you see how fixated he is on your belly, the clothes in his hands being set aside on the counter – along with a fluffy robe. You can almost feel the internal battle he is having with himself right now while he stares at you. And you decide to be the braver one and hope that you’ve read the mood correctly when you clear your throat to get his attention.

“S-Sorry sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have be-”

“D-Do… would you like to have a feel?” Your eyes are inquisitive, slightly furrowed, hoping that he doesn’t find it unusual of a question. And thankfully, when you see his eyes widen in surprise, lighting up as soon as you’ve finished your sentence; you take a breath of relief.

“If that is alright with you?” The softness with which Taehyung speaks to you has tears almost welling up in your eyes. The vulnerability in his voice making you nod your head instantly as you smile at the usually more stoic man. And he walks forward with care, coming at a stop right in front of you. He’s looking between your belly and your face, trying to see if it is still okay with you. And when you see that he’s overthinking the decision a little too much, you reach out for his hand – your own trembling because of how nervous you were – and place his larger one on your bump.

And then you both stand there. Taehyung smiling instantly when his hand meets the skin of your distended stomach. And you swear you’ve only seen that bright smile whenever he is with Jimin. He truly did want and love his future child. It made you happy and sad all at the same time. Taehyung slowly rubs his hand on your stomach, cautiously, looking up at you a few times to make sure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable – ever the gentleman.

But when the tips of his long fingers bump the underside of your heavy breasts, you can’t help but gasp aloud.

“Sorry!” he’s retracting his arm fast, looking at your face before his eyes fall to your chest, “I’m... sorry.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m just sore,” you chuckle nervously, trying to tell him it was alright when really, just the tips of his fingers had shot arousal straight down to your core. And when you see that Taehyung’s eyes have not come back up to your face, you look down at yourself too, wondering what’s wrong. It turns out to be a bad, bad idea because what you find is only making your cheeks redder and all the courage you’d conjured up to have Taehyung feel the growing baby inside you – has left. Because there are two, very visible, larger than normal, tight nipples poking through your thin bra.

You can’t turn around fast enough when you realize that Taehyung had almost practically seen you naked although it had started out a lot more innocent than this. So when he’s clearing his throat and telling you that he’ll be in the dining room – his voice is much huskier than what you’d heard before.

Sigh. Of course your breasts would humiliate you. Was there a part of your body that wasn’t against you? Ugh. You climb in the warm water anyway, hoping that a nice soak will solve everything.

“Feeling better, love?” The goofy smile on your face as you stuff it with the last bite of the pancake from your plate has Jimin chuckling as he takes your plate to put it in the dishwasher before turning it on. This had been your favorite breakfast since you’ve become pregnant. And thankfully, Jimin was more than happy to make you fresh, hot buttermilk pancakes every morning before he left. Today however, all three of you had decided to watch a movie together because of how busy you had all been for the last month. You’d been going to classes less and less because of how easily fatigued you got and were doing most of your work from home – well Taehyung and Jimin’s home. Taehyung had been constantly at the office – coming home tired as well while Jimin had been away to New York as a guest ballet teacher at the New York Ballet Academy.

In the last month – all of you had been going about your business as usual while you still caught the two men making out messily on the couch or ended up walking in on them pressed against a wall just before they both left for work. And honestly? It was making the situation worse for you. You were halfway through your pregnancy now and felt the mood swings more often than not whenever both of them were home at once. Your bra size had gone up to a double D and it had been quite hard going shopping for new undergarments when every single sales woman asked you how far along were you and if the father was just as happy. You’d wanted to do nothing but snap or scream at all of them “they’re gay leave me alone!” but alas, you’d bitten your tongue and just scurried back home.

So today was an off day for all three of you. You were trying to act as comfortable as possible, for the sake of the couple who was desperately trying to spend as much time with you as possible and not make you feel left out. And while most days you did crave their company – having become so used to it – today was the day you felt… off. Scratch that. You’d been feeling off since that day a month ago when you were pretty sure you’d walked in on something that had been happening under the table or had already happened when you thought about it later on. Taehyung never looked not in control so his dazed expression that day made you wonder what had been going on. And by off, you meant aroused. Horny. Whatever you want to call it.

Touching yourself was no longer easy when you couldn’t even reach past your stomach that had doubled in size in just a month and you were no longer sleeping on your back, but your side. Your breasts were always sore and had now started to leak. You remember the day you had found the round wet circles on your maternity shirt, you’d freaked out and ran to the bathroom to check was going on. Only for Jimin to come rushing in like the over-protective father-to-be he was, asking if everything was okay. When he’d also eyed the wetness on your shirt, he’d just smiled sympathetically at you because of the tears in your eyes, not knowing if this was normal or not and if you’d somehow done something wrong. Taking you in his arms – not caring about the increasingly wet patch on your shirt, he’d explained that it was just your body making sure that the milk that the baby will drink is ready and able to be produced by your breasts. It was a slightly off-white creamy substance called colostrum – count on Jimin to know everything before you did about your own body – and that it was completely normal.

Though you hadn’t missed the flash in his golden eyes before he’d pulled himself together and comforted you. And once again, that night, you’d heard the torturing moans of the two men wallowing in their pleasure while you lay in bed, on your side, frustrated and wet. Ugh you wanted to go home just because of this! How were you still attracted to them? Knowing they will never reciprocate?

“Right! Let’s get comfy then.” Jimin bringing the large bucket of popcorn around to where you sat on the huge couch, Taehyung splayed right beside you with his arm resting behind your head on the sofa while his thighs were spread so fucking sexily. Ugh you wanted to sit on his lap. But that would probably get you fired so you just looked up at Jimin’s smiling face that stood above you. When he stayed standing or the next few seconds, your smile eventually turned in to a confused expression.

“What?” You ask in a small voice.

“You’re in my seat.” Wait, seriously?

“O-Oh, sorry I’ll just-” You’ve slowly gotten up, holding on to your stomach – it’s become a protective habit now – kind of confused why Jimin was making you move – until he takes your seat, only to grab you by the hips before you could settle anywhere else and sitting you back on his lap.

“Oh! J-Jimin!”

“Yes, y/n?” The stupid, lovely smile is still on his face as he leans his head forward to look at you from the side when you’re staring back at him in horror. In all the months you’ve spent together with the two of them, the closest you all had gotten was when Taehyung had touched your bump and Jimin when he’d seen your breasts leaking the pre-milk. That was it.

“I’m heavy!” And you were! How could he just sit there with you on his thighs – body almost double the size of his own small but muscular chest – pretending like you weighed nothing?

“No you are not. You are glowing and you are beautiful. Now be quiet and let me give you a massage while we watch this movie.” You look to the other side, hoping that Taehyung would help you out of Jimin’s lap as he’s usually the more blunt and straight forward one. Surely he sees how large you are getting? You felt like a whale. But all he does is, shrug with a grin on his face.

“A massage sounds very nice, y/n. I think you need it.”

“Are you saying I’m grumpy?” Your accusing tone isn’t helping your case when you’re pouting and frowning at Taehyung.

“You really want me to reply to that?” Although he’s teasing, you’re still pouting in annoyance, turning your face forward as you mumble a ‘no.’ Knowing that both of these handsome caring angels will win every single time. One thing was for sure though. The pregnancy had really loosened you up. Not just physically but also mentally too. You were a lot more relaxed around them and weren’t as jumpy or quiet either. Hence the little tantrum you had thrown. But soon enough, you’re relaxing in Jimin’s lap, slowly letting go as you lean backwards against his body while his hands work your shoulders expertly. You’re watching a movie that you can’t remember the name of because how good Jimin’s hands feel on your skin, kneading the tense flesh of your neck while your head lolled back on his chest, eyes hazily paying attention to whatever that was on the screen.

“Mm.” You can’t stop the low moan that leaves your mouth when Jimin massages over a particularly large knot in your back, moving his hands down your back and to the sides to your shoulders.

“Feel good?” He’s whispered the words so close your ears that you can’t help but shudder when you feel his warm breath. His hands making the temperature in your body climb up in record time.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tae, massage her foot will you? Poor thing is swollen all over.” Your breath is picking up once again at the way he’s talking about you with Taehyung. And instantly, Taehyung has picked up the leg near him by the knee, propping it on his thigh by moving closer so your legs weren’t spread at a painful angle. But boy were they still spread. You had taken to wearing dresses because they covered your bump quite easily and you didn’t need to hunt for pants that would actually fit you. So when Taehyung had propped your leg on his thigh, it had opened up your legs enough for you to feel the fresh air under your dress, unsurprisingly feeling cold on your already wet panties. You were constantly wet and you were starting to think that you were just a pervert. Because literally a massage on your footwas making you horny!

But you still wouldn’t be anywhere else as the two men worked your muscles into relaxation – sending you further and further into a smog of bliss – the movie long forgotten. Jimin had started to move his hands down your arms and before coming back up to massage the front of your chest – dangerously close to the swell of your boobs. And being the wound up 20 weeks pregnant woman you were – you let out a low whine, momentarily stopping both their hands on you for a few seconds before they resume.

“What’s wrong darling?” You quickly try to clear your throat though you still sound like you’re drunk.

“N-Nothing.”

“Y/N.” The warning voice isn’t from Jimin; Taehyung is the one who’d started to move his massaging palms from the soles of your feet to your calves. And your first instinct is to just submit under his gaze.

“I-I’m just… just. Ugh, it’s embarrassing,” You bring your hands up to your eyes, shielding them from looking anywhere because of the mortification you felt. Why would they want to know your boobs felt achy? They would probably think you’re gross.

“Where does it hurt, baby?” The hands slowly fall from your arms while you feel Jimin’s raspy voice just beside your ear, hot breath teasing the lobe of it as his hands move down further, and further….Until they rest firmly on your heaving breasts.

“Here?”

And you can only nod. Biting your lip as your eyes remain closed. For a few moments, no one moves. You’re still breathing hard and Jimin still has your breast firmly cupped. Until his hands start kneading them through your dress – the contact even more severe without you wearing a bra. Instantly, you’re arching your back in to his hands, moaning a high pitched needy moan like you’ve been deprived for years.

“Well let’s take care of you then, hm?” Your mouth is falling open and closing repeatedly while you try to reply above the firm palming of your tits that Jimin is giving you.

“Y-You don’t- ah – have to.”

“We want to darling. It’s not fair on you to be this… stressed.” Jimin was slowly losing his train of thought when you had your head tilted back in his chest, letting out the most adorably small moans. He chances a look at Taehyung and finds him looking equally as affected as him while he negligently massages your leg – just watching Jimin hold and squeeze your breasts. You were on cloud nine and weren’t in the state of mind to even question how easily Jimin was squeezing and kneading your breasts. Like this wasn’t his first time touching a woman so intimately. But your mind not being present is exactly the problem because you’ve forgotten that they had started to produce milk.

Until the wet patch has grown on your dress as Jimin’s fingers come to a stop right on your nipples, feeling the increasingly damp fabric surrounding your pebbled nipples. You’re too breathless and mortified to speak because honestly, you’re so turned on and achy and just want Jimin’s hands to rub your boobs again to relieve the ache so you just stay silent. But of course, he doesn’t.

“Fuck.” It’s the first time you’ve heard the male swear and it shoots straight down to your core, “She’s leaking, Tae.” Your head is shooting up as you look at Jimin in surprise that he’s exposed you to Taehyung as well. Meaning they have already talked about this before. Several times probably. Because the next thing you feel is Jimin pressing his thumb hard on your nipples, before starting to roll them until the liquid is flowing out of your breasts and wetting your dress with more velocity.

“J-Jimin… I’m m-making a mess,” you’re trying to sound normal but your brain needed to realize that there was nothing normal about this situation. Taehyung hadn’t said a word while Jimin was intent on rubbing your nipples raw until all that you had to give was out. But it kept coming, and now there were large wet spots on your chest.

“It’s alright darling,” He noses the flesh behind your ear, sending chills with how different and deep his voice sounds, “We’ll clean you up.”

And the butterflies in your stomach are doing summersaults. Because when you look at Taehyung again, it’s because his hand has slid way further up your leg than what is probably appropriate given the relationship you all had. But what surprises you more is when he slowly leans forward, gently kissing your cheek in a lingering kiss. The flesh of it going crimson because of shock and something else that you didn’t want to admit could be feelings for him.

“Go on, baby.” You’d been too immersed in Taehyung’s face that had been inching closer to yours. Or so you had thought. Because not breaking eye contact at first – face passive with only hints of that dazed look – he’s leaning down further until he is level with your chest while Jimin pushes your maternity dress… beneath your breasts. You’re heaving in deep breaths now and at the same time feel like you aren’t breathing enough. Because your heavy, leaking breasts are now naked and exposed to the room air, Taehyung level with your chest and then at last; he does what you did not expect; take your engorged nipple in his mouth as he starts to suckle the sweet, creamy liquid from your chest.

“T-Taehyung! Ah…Oh-” you’re in bliss. The ache in your chest is slowly decreasing as the contents of them are being emptied in Taehyung’s mouth. His tongue is laving the nipple while he drinks. At points taking in deep swallows making you clench around nothing. And nothing is hotter than watching Taehyung suck the milk from your heavy breasts without a word. Jimin thinks the same while he kneads the other breast, cooing and encouraging Taehyung to keep drinking while pressing soft kisses to your neck as a comfort.

“That’s a good girl. Just let Taehyung make you feel all better. There you go.” He’s holding your hand with his other free one as Taehyung switches to the other breast, a trickle of the milk sliding down the corner of his mouth and Jimin can’t help but feel hot and bothered all over again. He was sure you could probably feel his hard length pressing on your back.

“How does it taste, babe?” Taehyung looks drunk. He’s not gentle anymore as he takes in mouthfuls of your breasts – way past just the nipple while still trying to suck gently to not hurt you.

“So good.” He’s almost slurring his words when he breaks away to speak and you moan almost wantonly when you see his heavy, dazed eyes before he dives back down to catch your leaking nipple – emptying that side too. “She tastes like heaven. Our kid is lucky.”

Jimin is chuckling behind you as he presses Taehyung’s head further against your chest. Your mouth had fallen open a long time ago as tiny moans of pleasure and comfort flowed out. Your breasts were feeling less achy and full, and the added benefit of Taehyung’s expert hot mouth had you so slick between your knees that you were worried you were soon going to start dripping there as well.

“J-Jimin I-I,” you wanted to tell him that you needed to pee. Or any excuse that will get you out to the bathroom so you could clean up yourself but your brain malfunctioned before you could get two words out as Taehyung moaned around a mouthful of tit.

“Just a little more, honey. Tae is almost done.” Jimin’s cooing only has you getting slicker and slicker and when Taehyung finally pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’ you clench your thighs together so fast – after he moves away – that even just the slight friction of your own skin has a moan slipping past your lips. And of course, Jimin picks up on it.

“Are you okay, y/n? Was that uncomfortable for you?” His sweet face is contorted in concern and you don’t know how to respond. ‘Yeah it was all good. Just one problem, I’m really frigging wet down there can you help me with that too?’ Yeah. No.

“N-No. Unusual b-but no. I feel a lot b-better now actually.” You try sounding nonchalant because you can’t read Taehyung’s face anymore while yours is permanently red. He’s watching the movie like he didn’t just suck all the pre-milk out of you and Jimin has pulled your dress back up to cover your modesty like he didn’t just guide Taehyung’s head and told him to drink slower so you enjoy it too. What the fuck was happening.

“That’s good. Let us know how we can help again, sweetheart.” And just like that, he’s back to watching the movie that you have no idea about. So is this what this was? Them just helping you relieve some pain? Was this still probably disgusting for them but they did it out of pity anyway? Whatever it was, you needed to go to the bathroom ASAP. And this time – to actually pee.

“Excuse me, I-I have to use the rest room,” You’re getting up with both your hands supporting themselves on Jimin’s strong thighs while he holds your waist to steady you. And as quick as an achy body will allow you – except for the boobs, though now a different ache was present there – you lock yourself in the toilet and do your business and clean up. Unsurprisingly, you’re so wet that the toilet paper has a sticky strand connecting it to your privates and it makes you even hornier to see, and slightly embarrassed that two gay men sucking your boobs had you thiswet. Ugh.

But as the images of Taehyung’s black mop of hair laving your nipple again and again while Jimin guides his head plague your mind again – you’ve knowingly had started to circle your clit – as much of it as you could reach – while your lip is being bitten red by your teeth. Slowly, you’re losing yourself in your self-indulgent pleasure because, god, it felt good to touch yourself after so many months of chastity. Currently, one of your legs was rested on top of the sink while you sat on the closed toilet seat, the other leg to the opposite side so you could actually reach between your legs.

“Mmf,” it was getting increasingly difficult for you to muffle your moans because of how ruined you were from before. Your fingers were slipping through your labia and your hand was already cramping because you just couldn’t put pressure on the right spot and just ugh.

Breathing heavy, your dress resting on top of your thighs, a knock is sounding on the bathroom door after you’d groaned in frustration just a little too loudly.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Instead of it being Jimin checking up on you like usually – it’s Taehyung’s deep, concerned voice. The sounds of the TV were loud as the action movie was on full swing, and you were thankful for not having to control your heavy breathing because you were sure that Taehyung couldn’t hear you outside the bathroom walls. Carefully, you bring down your legs, wincing in pain slightly for having it up for so long – but alas, it was useless, leaving you all the more swollen and frustrated. Flushing the toilet once more for show, you check yourself in the mirror briefly to see if anything looked out of place more than the already tousled state you’d rushed to the toilet in, before opening the door to see Taehyung’s handsome face twisted in apprehension.

“H-Hi,” you smile at him, standing in the doorway of the bathroom because he was sort of blocking your path to get out and you weren’t exactly the most confident in just sneaking right past him. That would be a bit rude, you think.

“Hello.” but the word lacks any tone. It’s neutral, almost a robotic response as he continues to stare at you like he’s trying to figure you out.

“Are you... okay?”

“Are you?” His tine is accusatory, almost. Because he’d started to take further steps until you were backed right into the bathroom again – Taehyung still looking at you with furrowed brows – until he leans in when your hand had come up to push a strand back from your face. And he grabs it, before bringing it up to his nose… taking a breath in close.

And you realize then and there – blood rising up your cheeks so fast you’re getting dizzy – that you didn’t wash your hands again after you-

“Were you touching yourself?” You can’t respond. You look like a deer caught in the headlights when Taehyung is looking at you the way he is – eyes intense and passive yet inciting a fire in your loins that have you getting even slicker between your legs. His no-nonsense tone is stopping the signals in your brain that are being sent to your mouth to just outright deny it. But you don’t.

“Y-Yes?” You’re hesitant because you’re afraid that he’ll be grossed out at your debauched behavior – touching yourself while they waited for you to spend time with them as if they hadn’t just been suckling at your tits like that milk was meant for them.

Suddenly, Taehyung steps forward, carefully bringing his hands to your waist before his expression completely changes into a more concerned one. “I’m going to pick you up and place you on the counter, is that okay y/n?” You’re thoroughly confused because he doesn’t look disgusted. He hasn’t run out of the bathroom to tell Jimin how much of a pervert you are; instead he has that expression a parent would with their child before they are about to be given a yucky tasting cough syrup.

“O-Ok. But w-why?” Your question isn’t answered as Taehyung has already picked you up off the floor gently, placing you back on the counter in the bathroom as he settles between your legs. He’s so close and he’s so big. His broad frame is almost forcing your legs apart and due to his minimal clothing on his day off – a thin shirt with some loose trousers – you can feel his body so much more. And also the fact that there haven’t been many times you’ve been this close to him. One of the only other times being just half an hour ago.

“I know you’re frustrated love,” his hand is coming up to your face while you hold your breath, not knowing what else to do when his striking face is so close to your own you can make out every mole on his face. “Don’t,” His firm request is being accompanied by a gentle hand on your chest, “Take a deep breath. Holding it in is not good for you or the baby, okay?”

Calming yourself down - your eyes close for a moment before you do as he says. Completely forgetting that you did practically admit that you were masturbating – or trying to – in the bathroom. Taehyung stays like that with you for a few more seconds until he is certain that you are not holding in your breath in because of nervousness – and then he’s back to undoing all of it.

“We will help you with everything, y/n. Okay? All you have to do is ask.” His eyes have narrowed on your face, leaning down to make sure to look deep in to yours. You’re hot all over again when he looks at you like that and your brain has gone back to auto-pilot – just nodding along.

“Good girl. Now,” he places a hand over your thigh, placing the other on the other side of you to trap you in his scent. “Would you like me to finger you, rub your clit or eat you out?”

“What?” The almost foreign high pitched screech is certainly from you because you can’t imagine that Taehyung is in the position to screech right now.

“You need to tell me y/n. So I can help.” Your face is incredulous, not believing what you’re hearing. What was going on? Why was he offering you this? What about Jimin?

“B-But, Jimin-”

“He sent me here to help.” Taehyung has not budged, even when you’d jerked back at his blunt question but still – he’s looking at you as a matter of fact like the options he’d given you were to happen either way. And you’re so fucking gone – you needed to cum or you’ll go crazy. You were constantly leaking, from your pussy to your breasts, and now the hormones had won over. Because you settle back against the wall shakily, shyly looking up at him.

“F-Fingers please.” You’re mortified that you just said that and your eyes are closing in response, hands coming up to cover your eyes – only peaking once at Taehyung’s glazed expression as well before his veiny – oh fucking god – arm is pushing your dress up to the top of your thighs. Great. You’d resorted to swearing now. That’s how horny you were.

“Where? On your clit or inside you y/n?” His so matter of fact tone is driving you insane because he sounds more like he’s asking where he should sign on a contract rather than where he should be touching you on your vagina. He was too fucking hot and ugh.

“M-My clit.” And as soon as you’ve given him the green light, his thick, long fingers have slipped down under your panties, starting to draw slow but steady small circles on your clit.

Your whimper is automatic and the hands that had been covering your face have dropped to brace yourself by grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. You’ve never been this bold with him but you guessed that this moment was definitely an exception to the rule. His fingers are insistent, slowly speeding up and as they do – the slick sound of your arousal is becoming more apparent, only making your skin feel feverishly hot.

“You’re… you’re quite wet.” This is the first time Taehyung sounds even remotely affected. His pupils look slightly blown out – you can’t tell much because you are trying not to pass out your self – and his eyes are flickering between your bump and between your thighs where his hand was working. But you can only moan pathetically as the itch that you’d been trying to scratch is finally being attended to. Your clit was swollen and slick but somehow, Taehyung was putting just the right amount of pressure to have you panting.

“Y/n,” your gaze flicks to his own at his hesitant tone, “may I… may I see my baby?” It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what is it that he’s asking until it dawns on you – he wanted to see the baby bump. Nodding and with shaky hands, you slowly push your dress up higher and higher until the fabric rests just below your chest and above your distended belly. And then there it is – Taehyung finally looking more affected than your own messy state. His other hand had gone straight to caress your stomach, teeth biting sensually at his lower lips as his hand on your clit speeds up.

“T-Taehyung- Ah,” Your groan sounds almost painful because of how long you’ve been waiting to be brought over the edge and now – you were so close to it.

“You look absolutely divine, y/n.” His eyes don’t leave your belly as he says that but then his gaze is finally shifting to your face – your mouth is almost hanging open. “You smell amazing, youare... amazing.”

“I bet she tastes amazing too.” Both of you are startled by the voice behind you as you look backwards at Jimin’s figure leaning against the bathroom door before he walks forward; looking like he wanted to wreck you too. But not to worry – he wasn’t so far behind on achieving that because you were on the verge of tearing up and cumming.

Jimin’s walked right next to Taehyung, standing on the side that allowed him more space to work with as Taehyung shifted to the other side slightly as if to let his boyfriend watch what he was doing to your pussy. With your dress pushed right up, your soaking panties were visible and so were Taehyung’s vascular hands working underneath them. Jimin is leaning over to watch Taehyung’s hand get faster on your clit, pulling the underwear until he can peak inside and you are just about ready to die.

“Tae, baby, she’s clenching around nothing. Mind if I squeeze in?” He’s talking to him like you’re not there but you couldn’t care less. You were moaning, whimpering, almost to the point of tears at how turned on and close you were.

“Go for it babe. She’s soaking.” Jimin leans in, placing a lingering peck on Taehyung’s mouth that he eagerly returns and you swear to god that you will die here on the spot. The two men were acting like they were in their own little world again, conversing with each other like they didn’t have their hands inside your panties. And soon enough, Jimin’s more stubbier fingers are joining in, sliding down your slick folds before he pushes inside your pussy with one, simple glide which makes you gasp out loud – grabbing his arm in instinct as you jerk forwards to take it in deeper. Yes. This is what you needed to cum.

“Look at that. Baby you’re so wet and needy,” he looks over at Taehyung who’s still working on your clit, watching your face carefully, “clearly needing our help but you don’t ask.”

“J-Jimin f-faster.”

“Good. Ask and we will give. We don’t want to punish you Darling.” Your eyes are going wide because firstly; Jimin has started to fuck his fingers in more firmly and with increasing speed; secondly – p-punish you? What was go-

“Fuck she’s so wet Jimin. She’s dripping everywhere and is she tight?” Taehyung speaks for the first time in a few minutes since Jimin had started to finger your pussy to oblivion.

“Yeah. She is. I read that the baby putting pressure on her other surrounding genital organs. Which is why her pussy is so tight babe. She’s clenching my fingers so hard. Are you okay baby?” The last question is directed to you and most likely because your mouth is opened in a silent scream and you’ve gripped both of their hands suddenly.

“Shit, she’s about to cum.” Taehyung has fastened his pace on your clit, using 3 fingers now as he rubs it raw, making more slick drip down on Jimin’s fingers.

“Let go darling,” Jimin’s gentle, cooing voice has returned whenever he tried to comfort you but you’d never thought he would be using it to coax you in to an orgasm.

“Just cum on my fingers. It’s alright. Go on.”

“T-Tae… J-Jimin I’m-” and then a sob is escaping your lips as you throw your head back – vision going white as you cum so hard. Their hands are still working in your underwear and that’s the last thing you remember.

You feel the dampness of a warm cloth between your legs when you come to again and it’s Jimin who’s wiping you – you still sitting on the counter.

“Mh… W-What happened?” At your voice, Jimin’s finally noticed that you’re conscious again and he’s leaning forward to bring you close to his chest before a relieved chuckle is escaping his plump lips.

“You had us worried, silly girl.” He pulls back to inspect your face, a small grin on his face that turns in to a smirk, “you fainted when you came.”

“Oh god.” Your head is buried back in his chest, mortified while he’s wrapping his arms around you again laughing his contagious laugh.

“It’s alright baby. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I would faint too if I didn’t screw Taehyung in over 4 months.” His casual admission has your cheeks reddening again and he only just mutters ‘cute’before pinching your cheeks. When you’ve finally stopped trying to combust on the spot from embarrassment, you notice that Taehyung isn’t there.

“Taehyung? Is he upset?” You’re nervous and you don’t even know why you asked that. He was the one who offered to get you off in the first place. Why would he mind that you came on his fingers?

“He’s getting the bathtub ready for you to soak in. So let’s go miss.” Jimin’s light tone has you forgetting about the mind blowing orgasm that the two men had given you, still slightly hazy from it all.

He’s reaching forwards to pick you up off your feet before you can hop down the counter and it makes you squeal in surprise because of how easily he’s just picked you up. “Jimin!”

He only smiles in return, knowing full well why your tone is one that’s trying to scold him. “Don’t say you’re heavy. I will be very upset if you do.” He tuts at you, walking through the hallways towards their master bedroom again and the memories from before – the day when Taehyung had touched your tummy for the first time – are making your heart race.

“F-Fine. I won’t.” you’re too distracted to argue with him because Taehyung is walking about in his night trousers, a thin white shirt on his broad frame while he dips his hand in the water to make sure it’s just the right amount of over the room temperature hot before he notices Jimin carrying you inside the massive bathroom.

“Here you are love. Have a nice, long soak.” He sets you down carefully, smirking slightly when you two meet eyes again, “you need it.”

Frick these beautiful men, ugh. You dumbly nod, looking away before both of them could catch your reddening face. Jimin walks out, letting you know he’ll be right outside if you need any help but just as you’re about to take off your night shirt – it’s risen almost right above your undies – Taehyung walks in again. It was odd but funny how much you two walked in on each other – especially when you were undressing. It was giving you serious deja-vu.

“Sorry I…,” he chuckles nervously, “I forgot to knock again.”

“It’s alright.”

“Here are fresh towels for you when you’re done. Call us if you need anything, okay?” He holds your gaze just long enough that your heart is in overdrive again. It was impossible to keep your simmering feelings at bay when they were this caring. How do you tell them to stop making you feel like this is your forever when really – this was just your now? Four and a half months from now – that will be their forever when the baby is born but for you – this was temporary. You were continuously having to reset your feelings and then they ended up doing something to max out your ‘in love’ bar that you were desperately trying to keep low.

Hoping to forget about everything for now; you just make sure the door is closed – you can hear muffled conversations – before taking off your nightie and underwear and step in to the warm water that instantly has a groan of relief releasing from your lips. You lose track of time as the water slowly goes lukewarm but you lay there. Just letting the warm scent of cinnamon surround you. You’re almost dozing off when a movement below jerks you awake. You’re startled and alert, sitting up in the tub as the water sloshes around you in the tub. Maybe it’s because you have been awake for so long or because you are extremely tired; the movement in your stomach has you on edge – slightly panicked as you get up – slowly – making sure to hold the edges of the tub so you don’t slip. The feeling is slightly uncomfortable but not hurtful. Though it’s certainly different and for a moment you think something is terribly wrong. But when the next jerk in your stomach happens – it dawns on you.

“J-Jimin!” You’re slightly dizzy and it’s automatic when you call out for the two men. “T-Taehyung.” Not even a second later, the door has opened – thankfully you’d put on your panties and quickly shrugged on the robe before calling them in. Both men have rushed in – Taehyung before Jimin, eyes tense and looking around to make sure you’re okay.

“I-I think the baby is kicking.” You’re breathless from both the shock and the effort it took you to dress yourself in a haste as you stand there, holding your tummy while watching both of their stunned faces that quickly turn into grins as they look at each other before Jimin is walking forwards to you.

“Let’s go out, darling.” He can’t contain his smile as he walks you out to the bedroom, a hand on your back while the other has your arm in his other. Taehyung is draining the tub in record time – his heart going fast as excitement rushes through his veins. His baby was well and kicking and he couldn’t believe it was that time already.

Jimin’s sat you down on their large bed, a pillow perched behind your back so you can rest while he takes a seat on the ground besides you.

“Oh!” A particularly strong kick has you wincing at first before you can’t help but giggle when you watch Jimin’s mouth open in an adorable ‘o’.

“Are you okay, baby? H-how does it feel?” The pet name doesn’t go unnoticed by your brain, the butterflies in your stomach thriving at being fed by wishful thinking. But you smile at him in reassurance, gesturing towards your tummy and it’s not even a second later that he has his hand on your stomach, waiting for the baby to kick. And you two don’t have to wait long before another kick has you both bursting out in giggles.

“That’s just,” Jimin’s head is shaking with an amazed smile still gracing his lips, “that’s beautiful.” You’re acutely aware of Taehyung watching from the other side of the bed where he sat a good few inches away from you.

“Tae, babe,” Jimin looks past you to Taehyung, “have a feel of your baby? She’s quite the kicker.” Your eyes go wide.

“She?” but Jimin only smiles in defiance.

“Yup. I bet it’s a girl. I want it to be a girl.” You’re both giggling again until Jimin finally forces Taehyung to move closer to you, effectively making you more breathless. God, this man was too much for you. Both of them were. Surrounded by them was certainly a recipe for something else scandalous.

But when he doesn’t move and just merely stares at where Jimin’s hand rests on your stomach, you decide to take action. You knew he would be hesitant but you wanted him to share this happiness with his partner. Hoping they would gush about this when they were alone. And suddenly, your heart is aching knowing you’d be alone later on too. Actually alone. But pushing those thoughts away, you reach out hesitantly, for Taehyung’s hand. He’s still watching your stomach, eyes not wavering and treading carefully, you place his larger one on your stomach that covers the other half of it – that’s not occupied by Jimin’s hand. But nothing happens. A minute passes by and no kick and it was evident on Taehyung’s face that he was disappointed.

“Guess my kid already doesn’t like me.” The playful jokes hides a more sorrowful tone. You knew that this affected him more than he let on.

“It’s okay.” You reassure him, smiling softly at him – eyes sympathetic because you didn’t know either how to help. Why did the little rascal had to stop kicking when its actual father was wanting to feel him or her kick?

Taehyung is about to pull his hand away until Jimin hurriedly speaks up from beside you, making both of your heads turn towards him.

“Try talking to her.” You can’t help the roll of your eyes, a smirk on your lips when Jimin refers to the baby as ‘her’ again, “I’ve researched that apparently talking to your baby helps them recognize you.” Of course Jimin would have researched. It never stopped amazing you how eager he was to know as much as possible about this baby.

Taehyung just mutely stares before going to remove his hand again.

“Tae! Baby, come on! You need to start the bond building now or don’t come complaining to me when I’m the favorite parent. Aren’t I more likeable y/n?” You vigorously nod before both you and Jimin burst out in fits of giggles again. He really did make you smile all day every day. No day with Jimin was blue.

Sighing, Taehyung finally gives in, muttering a ‘fine’ under his breath before he bends down – face inches from your tummy as rests his weight on his elbow and all of a sudden – the giggles and smiles leave you while you watch Taehyung. Both of you.

Jimin gives his boyfriend a reassuring smile and a gentle nod and Taehyung then finally speaks, “Hey there little one. It’s… it’s your dad.”

You can’t stop watching him and neither can Jimin. Your heart is starting to feel two sizes too big for your chest as you listen to Taehyung speak in the softest voice you’d ever heard him speak in – his eyes trained on your stomach while his hand rests on it to feel any movement.

“I can’t wait for you to be here. We,” He looks at Jimin, briefly glancing at you oddly enough, before looking back, “can’t wait for you to be with us here. Can you let daddy know you can hear him?” Your eyes are welling up and you know you have an easy out to blame it on the hormones but you just can’t help it. Taehyung’s hopeful face and his slight rubbing hands on your stomach make you want to weep if the baby doesn’t kick again.

But alas, you are saved from pitiful weeping as you feel a particularly strong – maybe the strongest – kick and it startles all of you before you’re all laughing in pure joy. The smile on Taehyung’s face is unguarded. In this moment, you could tell he was genuinely feeling on top of the world as he talks with Jimin about having competition as the best dad. And you? You just listen to them bicker and banter along. And that’s how the rest of the night goes. All three of you talking to the baby – mostly the other two men laying on either side of you – telling him or her “it’s a she y/n! stop being sexist” Jimin had playfully glared at you when ‘he’ had accidently slipped from you.

___________________________________________________________________________

“Taehyung, take that bag from her. She can’t carry that.” Ugh. You were in a foul mood. First you had to go officially on maternity leave from your studies, submitting your reports and going to complete online study – you weirdly liked going to lectures, sue you – concentrating on the task at hand took some mental strength when you’re in your third trimester, apparently, so you had to finally take a break from physically attending classes. And at thirty-one weeks pregnant, Jimin had been overprotective. Actually that would be the understatement of the century. As much as you’d liked all the attention at first but having him constantly on your two had you wanting to scream. And yet you didn’t have the courage to and had to calm yourself down often because again - you had to remind yourself – this was theirbaby. But today was not going so hot as all of you got out of the Rolls Royce, Taehyung indeed taking the bag from you that contained all your study materials as well as essentials a thirty-one weeks pregnant woman would need.

“I’m fine, Jimin!” your angry pout only makes Jimin want to coddle you more.

You were so huge now and you hated looking at yourself in the mirror. One day, Jimin had even caught you crying in the bathroom – only wearing your underwear – sitting on the floor facing away from the mirror as you pathetically sobbed.

“You are the most beautiful I have seen you as of yet. Y/n.”He’d held your face in his hands, the gentle smile there again, soothing your nerves and apprehensions and negative thoughts about your body.“You are growing life inside you and that is the most beautiful you’ll ever be. You’re glowing, baby.”He’d laughed in amazement at your puzzled face and just then Taehyung had arrived in your room, wanting to see what all the ruckus was about. And when he sees the tears being wiped from your face as Jimin whispered sweet reassurances to you, he’s swiftly turned, only giving you a once over before leaving without a word, prompting another wave of tears because you thought he found you ugly. Jimin had stayed on the floor with you, rocking you back and forth and calming you down until you’d been okay enough to lay in bed and rest. Sometime later that night, you’d heard the muffled voices of an argument and you’d wondered if it was about you.

But here you were, at the clinic to finally find out the gender of the baby and Jimin couldn’t be more excited. Actually he was glowing so much, anyone would think he was the one who was pregnant and the thought makes you chuckle.

“Oh good. You finally smiled at last.” But you pout again when Jimin points it out and he’s only booping your nose as you three head in to Dr. Klarna’s office.

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Park! Welcome.” The receptionist had completely ignored your existence, even though youwere the one here for the ultrasound and you wanted to scream at her.

“Hi! I’m Y/n.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself and the young receptionist is positively frazzled as she takes in your sarcastic smile and wave.

“Hi Y/N. You all can sign here and Dr. Klarna will call you in any minute.” Her guilty smile makes you happier than it should, knowing you showed her that you were a human too! Her casual dismissal of you made you angry! The knowing smirks on both Taehyung and Jimin’s faces only makes you feel better and when Jimin sweetly smiles at the receptionist after signing the papers, he wraps his arm around your waist before taking you to Dr. Klarna’s office when your name is called.

To be fair, a lot of things made you angry these days. You truly felt for pregnant women now. You had to pee every two minutes and sleeping on your back was a distant memory. Night time insomnia plagued you now, despite how tired you were when you went to bed. Other than trying to keep a regular pre-bed routine, avoiding caffeine in the afternoons, aiming for a quiet wind down before bed and ensuring a supportive, comfortable bed most women find there is little else they can try – how did you know all of that? Research? Nope. You had Jimin for that. You swear he was half a pregnancy expert already.

Dr. Klarna’s voice interrupts your thoughts as you lay on the bed while she puts the gel on your stomach for the ultrasound to start. Your heart is pounding and you are finally realizing that you will find out the gender of the baby. Jimin and Taehyung sit close – Jimin holding onto your hand as his thumbs rub soothingly and you all wait for Dr. Klarna to tell you the news.

“Ah I just can’t see the face properly.” She looks over to all of you with a playful smile before her eyes return to the screen, “Your kid is one hell of a mover.”

Jimin is only smiling wider while Taehyung watches the screen with utmost intensity. As if he’s analyzing business documents or something. He needed to chill.

“Ah! There it is.”

Oh wow.

a/n: gender revealed in last part HEUHEUHEU. thanks for reading babes

[cover2covermom]

Goodbye April & hello May!

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel & I’m running toward it…

April seemed to drag on despite the days flying by.  Does that even make sense?  Like I’ve mentioned before, my days are filled with homeschooling, home projects, mask making, and reading.  I’ve been doing my best to fill my hours to ease the COVID-19 anxiety.

I received the notification that I will be returning to work next week, which was welcome news.  I’m ready to get back a little bit of normalcy in my life.  Thankfully, our library system is reopening in phases.  Our first phase will be employees only (3-5 employees in the building at one time) and offering curb-side service to our patrons.  As of now, we will not open our doors to the public until June 1st at the earliest.  At that point in time, we will be limiting the number of patrons allowed in the building.  It is definitely going to be a learning curve to see what my new work normal is going to entail.  I’m looking forward to adapting & rising to the occasion.

» Be Not Far From Me by Mindy McGinnis

As per usual, Mindy McGinnis puts out another harrowing YA book.  I love survival stories, so I enjoyed this story about a girl that has gotten lost in the woods.  Be Not Far From Me was uncomfortable to read at certain points.

» Here in the Real World by Sara Pennypacker

*3.5 Stars*

This was a sweet story about two kids that form a friendship while hanging around an abandoned lot.  The first half of this book didn’t grab me and moved far too slowly.  I enjoyed the second half of this book a lot better than the first half.

» Keeper of Lost Cities (Keeper of the Lost Cities #1) by Shannon Messenger

An awesome MG fantasy!  I cannot wait to continue on with this series.  I’d recommend this to fans of Harry Potter.

» Separation Anxiety by Laura Zigman

*2.75 Stars*

I read this for one of my book clubs.   I think the author was attempting to write a book that would charm readers with eccentric characters & a humorous plotline, but don’t think it delivered.  Instead of being funny, the story felt odd & forced.

» A Wolf Called Wander by Rosanne Parry

I think the author did a tremendous job writing a book from a wolf’s perspective.  You can tell the author did extensive research into wolves & their behaviors.  While I think this animal perspective was very well done, I didn’t think the plotline was all that entertaining.

» The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Oz #1) by L. Frank Baum

I’ve decided to challenge myself to read more children’s classics in 2020.   To kick start this challenge, I started with The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.  This was a delightful read!  I was surprised to learn that the slippers were actually silver instead of ruby red… mind blown!

» SHOUT by Laurie Halse Anderson

This is a must read for fans of Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak.  While you don’t HAVE to read Speak to read SHOUT, I feel like it makes a bigger impact if you read Speak prior to this.  If you didn’t know, SHOUT is Anderson’s memoir told in verse.

» Loveboat, Taipei (Loveboat, Taipei #1) by Abigail Hing Wen

*4.5 Stars*

This is a guilty pleasure type of read.  Actually, it reminded me a bit of Crazy Rich Asians a bit.  It is a tad racy for a YA book… So I’d probably recommend for older YA readers that are 16+

» Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities #2) by Shannon Messenger

I am LOVING this MG fantasy series.  While these books are a bit chunky, don’t let the page count deter you.  I flew through the first two books in this series this month.  Also, I’m happy to report that this second installment does NOT suffer from “second book syndrome.”

» Nooks & Crannies by Jessica Lawson

Nooks & Crannies is an excellent MG historical mystery.  Some of the elements of this story gave me Matilda mixed with A Series of Unfortunate Events vibes.  The audiobook is well narrated.

» The Penderwicks (The Penderwicks #1) by Jeanne Birdsall

This is the perfect book to pick up during the summer months.  It really gave me modern Little Women crossed with The Secret Garden vibes.  The ending was so heartwarming it almost brought me to tears.

Goodreads Challenge Update: 46 books!

*I know it says 47, but I finished The Last (Endling #1) on May 1st*

March 2020 Reading & Blogging Wrap-Up

April 2020 TBR

Childhood Classics 2020: TBR

Most Anticipated Books of 2020 (May – December)

Mini Book Reviews: April 2020 – Part 1

Mini Book Reviews: April 2020 – Part 2

If you were ever curious what a bookworm’s quarantine stress shopping spree looks like, here you go…

» The Guinevere Deception (Camelot Rising #1) by Kiersten White

There was nothing in the world as magical and terrifying as a girl.

Princess Guinevere has come to Camelot to wed a stranger: the charismatic King Arthur. With magic clawing at the kingdom’s borders, the great wizard Merlin conjured a solution–send in Guinevere to be Arthur’s wife . . . and his protector from those who want to see the young king’s idyllic city fail. The catch? Guinevere’s real name–and her true identity–is a secret. She is a changeling, a girl who has given up everything to protect Camelot.

To keep Arthur safe, Guinevere must navigate a court in which the old–including Arthur’s own family–demand things continue as they have been, and the new–those drawn by the dream of Camelot–fight for a better way to live. And always, in the green hearts of forests and the black depths of lakes, magic lies in wait to reclaim the land. Arthur’s knights believe they are strong enough to face any threat, but Guinevere knows it will take more than swords to keep Camelot free.

Deadly jousts, duplicitous knights, and forbidden romances are nothing compared to the greatest threat of all: the girl with the long black hair, riding on horseback through the dark woods toward Arthur. Because when your whole existence is a lie, how can you trust even yourself?

» Song for a Whale by Lynne Kelly

The story of a deaf girl’s connection to a whale whose song can’t be heard by his species, and the journey she takes to help him.

From fixing the class computer to repairing old radios, twelve-year-old Iris is a tech genius. But she’s the only deaf person in her school, so people often treat her like she’s not very smart. If you’ve ever felt like no one was listening to you, then you know how hard that can be.

When she learns about Blue 55, a real whale who is unable to speak to other whales, Iris understands how he must feel. Then she has an idea: she should invent a way to “sing” to him! But he’s three thousand miles away. How will she play her song for him?

» Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik

Miryem is the daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders, but her father’s inability to collect his debts has left his family on the edge of poverty–until Miryem takes matters into her own hands. Hardening her heart, the young woman sets out to claim what is owed and soon gains a reputation for being able to turn silver into gold.

When an ill-advised boast draws the attention of the king of the Staryk–grim fey creatures who seem more ice than flesh–Miryem’s fate, and that of two kingdoms, will be forever altered. Set an impossible challenge by the nameless king, Miryem unwittingly spins a web that draws in a peasant girl, Wanda, and the unhappy daughter of a local lord who plots to wed his child to the dashing young tsar.

But Tsar Mirnatius is not what he seems. And the secret he hides threatens to consume the lands of humans and Staryk alike. Torn between deadly choices, Miryem and her two unlikely allies embark on a desperate quest that will take them to the limits of sacrifice, power, and love.

Channeling the vibrant heart of myth and fairy tale, Spinning Silver weaves a multilayered, magical tapestry that readers will want to return to again and again.

» Girls Like Us by Randi Pink

Set in the summer of 1972, this moving YA historical novel is narrated by teen girls from different backgrounds with one thing in common: Each girl is dealing with pregnancy. Four teenage girls. Four different stories. What they all have in common is that they’re dealing with unplanned pregnancies.

In rural Georgia, Izella is wise beyond her years, but burdened with the responsibility of her older sister, Ola, who has found out she’s pregnant. Their young neighbor, Missippi, is also pregnant, but doesn’t fully understand the extent of her predicament. When her father sends her to Chicago to give birth, she meets the final narrator, Susan, who is white and the daughter of an anti-choice senator.

Randi Pink masterfully weaves four lives into a larger story – as timely as ever – about a woman’s right to choose her future.

» The Island of the Sea Women by Lisa See

Set on the Korean island of Jeju, The Island of Sea Women follows Mi-ja and Young-sook, two girls from very different backgrounds, as they begin working in the sea with their village’s all-female diving collective. Over many decades—through the Japanese colonialism of the 1930s and 1940s, World War II, the Korean War, and the era of cellphones and wet suits for the women divers—Mi-ja and Young-sook develop the closest of bonds. Nevertheless, their differences are impossible to ignore: Mi-ja is the daughter of a Japanese collaborator, forever marking her, and Young-sook was born into a long line of haenyeo and will inherit her mother’s position leading the divers. After hundreds of dives and years of friendship, forces outside their control will push their relationship to the breaking point.

This beautiful, thoughtful novel illuminates a unique and unforgettable culture, one where the women are in charge, engaging in dangerous physical work, and the men take care of the children. A classic Lisa See story—one of women’s friendships and the larger forces that shape them—The Island of Sea Women introduces readers to the fierce female divers of Jeju Island and the dramatic history that shaped their lives.

» The Weight of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf

A music-loving teen with OCD does everything she can to find her way back to her mother during the historic race riots in 1969 Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in this heart-pounding literary debut.

Melati Ahmad looks like your typical moviegoing, Beatles-obsessed sixteen-year-old. Unlike most other sixteen-year-olds though, Mel also believes that she harbors a djinn inside her, one who threatens her with horrific images of her mother’s death unless she adheres to an elaborate ritual of counting and tapping to keep him satisfied.

But there are things that Melati can’t protect her mother from. On the evening of May 13th, 1969, racial tensions in her home city of Kuala Lumpur boil over. The Chinese and Malays are at war, and Mel and her mother become separated by a city in flames.

With a 24-hour curfew in place and all lines of communication down, it will take the help of a Chinese boy named Vincent and all of the courage and grit in Melati’s arsenal to overcome the violence on the streets, her own prejudices, and her djinn’s surging power to make it back to the one person she can’t risk losing.

» Escape from Aleppo by N.H. Senzai

Nadia’s family is forced to flee their home in Aleppo, Syria, when the Arab Spring sparks a civil war in this timely coming-of-age novel from award-winning author N.H. Senzai.

Silver and gold balloons. A birthday cake covered in pink roses. A new dress.

Nadia stands at the center of attention in her parents’ elegant dining room. This is the best day of my life, she thinks. Everyone is about to sing “Happy Birthday,” when her uncle calls from the living room, “Baba, brothers, you need to see this.” Reluctantly, she follows her family into the other room. On TV, a reporter stands near an overturned vegetable cart on a dusty street. Beside it is a mound of smoldering ashes. The reporter explains that a vegetable vendor in the city of Tunis burned himself alive, protesting corrupt government officials who have been harassing his business. Nadia frowns.

It is December 17, 2010: Nadia’s twelfth birthday and the beginning of the Arab Spring. Soon anti-government protests erupt across the Middle East and, one by one, countries are thrown into turmoil. As civil war flares in Syria and bombs fall across Nadia’s home city of Aleppo, her family decides to flee to safety. Inspired by current events, this novel sheds light on the complicated situation in Syria that has led to an international refugee crisis, and tells the story of one girl’s journey to safety.

» The Two Princesses of Bamarre (The Two Princesses of Bamarre #1) by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys – along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

» The Lost Kingdom of Bamarre (The Two Princesses of Bamarre 0.5) by Gail Carson Levine

In this compelling and thought-provoking fantasy set in the world of The Two Princesses of Bamarre, Newbery Honor-winning author Gail Carson Levine introduces a spirited heroine who must overcome deeply rooted prejudice—including her own—to heal her broken country.

Peregrine strives to be the Latki ideal—and to impress her parents: affectionate Lord Tove, who despises only the Bamarre, and stern Lady Klausine. Perry runs the fastest, speaks her mind, and doesn’t give much thought to the castle’s Bamarre servants, who she knows to be weak and cowardly. The Lakti always wage war, and the battlefield will give her the chance to show her valor.

But just as she’s about to join her father on the front lines, she is visited by the fairy Halina, who reveals that Perry isn’t Latki-born. She is a Bamarre. The fairy issues a daunting challenge: against the Lakti might, free her people from tyranny.

» A Crack in the Sea by H.M. Bouwman

An enchanting historical fantasy adventure perfect for fans of Thanhha Lai’s Newbery Honor-winning Inside Out and Back Again   No one comes to the Second World on purpose. The doorway between worlds opens only when least expected. The Raft King is desperate to change that by finding the doorway that will finally take him and the people of Raftworld back home. To do it, he needs Pip, a young boy with an incredible gift—he can speak to fish; and the Raft King is not above kidnapping to get what he wants. Pip’s sister Kinchen, though, is determined to rescue her brother and foil the Raft King’s plans.   This is but the first of three extraordinary stories that collide on the high seas of the Second World. The second story takes us back to the beginning: Venus and Swimmer are twins captured aboard a slave ship bound for Jamaica in 1781. They save themselves and others from a life of enslavement with a risky, magical plan—one that leads them from the shark-infested waters of the first world to the second. Pip and Kinchen will hear all about them before their own story is said and done. So will Thanh and his sister Sang, who we meet in 1976 on a small boat as they try to escape post-war Vietnam. But after a storm and a pirate attack, they’re not sure they’ll ever see shore again. What brings these three sets of siblings together on an adventure of a lifetime is a little magic, helpful sea monsters and that very special portal, A Crack in the Sea.

» The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

A bizarre chain of events begins when sixteen unlikely people gather for the reading of Samuel W. Westing’s will. And though no one knows why the eccentric, game-loving millionaire has chosen a virtual stranger—and a possible murderer—to inherit his vast fortune, one thing’s for sure: Sam Westing may be dead … but that won’t stop him from playing one last game!

» Ballet Shoes (Shoes #1) by Noel Streatfeild

Pauline, Petrova and Posy are orphans determined to help out their new family by joining the Children’s Academy of Dancing and Stage Training. But when they vow to make a name for themselves, they have no idea it’s going to be such hard work! They launch themselves into the world of show business, complete with working papers, the glare of the spotlight, and practice, practice, practice! Pauline is destined for the movies. Posy is a born dancer. But practical Petrova finds she’d rather pilot a plane than perform a pirouette. Each girl must find the courage to follow her dream.

» Wishtree by Katherine Applegate

Trees can’t tell jokes, but they can certainly tell stories. . . .

Red is an oak tree who is many rings old. Red is the neighborhood “wishtree”—people write their wishes on pieces of cloth and tie them to Red’s branches. Along with her crow friend Bongo and other animals who seek refuge in Red’s hollows, this “wishtree” watches over the neighborhood.

You might say Red has seen it all. Until a new family moves in. Not everyone is welcoming, and Red’s experiences as a wishtree are more important than ever.

» The Library of Ever (The Library of Ever #1) by Zeno Alexander

With her parents off traveling the globe, Lenora is bored, bored, bored–until she discovers a secret doorway in the library and becomes its newly appointed Fourth Assistant Apprentice Librarian.

In her new job, Lenora finds herself helping future civilizations figure out the date, relocates lost penguins, uncovers the city with the longest name on Earth, and more in a quest to help patrons. But there are sinister forces at work that want to destroy all knowledge. To save the library, Lenora will have to test her limits and uncover secrets hidden among its shelves.

» Chains (Seeds of America #1) by Laurie Halse Anderson

As the Revolutionary War begins, thirteen-year-old Isabel wages her own fight…for freedom. Promised freedom upon the death of their owner, she and her sister, Ruth, in a cruel twist of fate become the property of a malicious New York City couple, the Locktons, who have no sympathy for the American Revolution and even less for Ruth and Isabel. When Isabel meets Curzon, a slave with ties to the Patriots, he encourages her to spy on her owners, who know details of British plans for invasion. She is reluctant at first, but when the unthinkable happens to Ruth, Isabel realizes her loyalty is available to the bidder who can provide her with freedom.

From acclaimed author Laurie Halse Anderson comes this compelling, impeccably researched novel that shows the lengths we can go to cast off our chains, both physical and spiritual.

» The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey.

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule–but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her–even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

The acclaimed author of The Witch’s Boy has created another epic coming-of-age fairy tale destined to become a modern classic. 

Which books did you read in April?

Have you read any of the books I read or hauled this month?  If so, what did you think?

Did you buy any books?  If so, which ones?

Comment below & let me know 🙂

April 2020 Reading & Blogging Wrap-Up + Book Haul #BookBlogger #Bookworm #Bibliophile #BookHaul #Reading #Books #WrapUp Goodbye April & hello May! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel & I'm running toward it...

[silver-lily-louise]

A Whole New World - Chapter 3: Power in Your Corner

In which Alec makes his first wish. Chapter title from ‘Aladdin’. 

Chapter 1: AO3 / Tumblr Chapter 2: AO3 / Tumblr Chapter 3: AO3 / read it below!

~oOo~

He hears the door click open, and Alexander’s voice comes echoing from the tiny entrance hallway. ‘Magnus?’ Magnus looks up from the last third of Les Mis – which he’s enjoying, still, but by the gods, how could there be so much of it left? – and feels himself smile as the man himself appears, unwinding his scarf and managing to further muss his already-windswept mop of hair in the process. ‘Alexander,’ he says in greeting. ‘Pleasant day, I hope?’ ‘Huh? Oh – yeah, it was okay,’ he says, excitement dancing bright and lovely in his eyes. Before Magnus can query it, Alexander quickly drops into the seat next to him, leaning forward as he tells Magnus, ‘Listen – I was thinking it over on my lunch break, and I think I’ve decided on a wish.’

Magnus sits up from his stretched-out position, swinging his legs off of the couch and banishing the book back to his lamp’s library with a flick of his wrist. ‘That’s wonderful news,’ he says, gesturing upwards with both hands, allowing his fingertips to spark in lilac and mauve, inordinately pleased when Alexander’s eyes widen. Magic, he had decided centuries ago, was as much showmanship as science. ‘So tell me, Alexander – what does your heart desire?’

Alexander takes a deep breath, and speaks as though he’s consciously slowing his pace down – though, notably, not enough to return to his normal speed. ‘Okay. So. My sister, Izzy, and her husband Simon – they’ve been trying to have a baby, and I was wondering if you could, you know, help with that?’ It takes all of Magnus’ considerable self-control not to raise an eyebrow at his phrasing. Unfortunately, it’s a wasted effort, as Alexander seems to realise the next moment what that sounded like, and turns a delectable shade of cherry red regardless. ‘I mean,’ he says, his voice a little stilted with embarrassment, ‘they’ve been having IVF treatment, and the last two attempts have failed, and they have their last chance tomorrow, and – I don’t know, if it’s possible, or-‘ Magnus holds up a hand, halting the ramble. ‘Alexander.’ He smiles gently. ‘Of course it is possible. You are not the first wish-maker to ask for something like this, not by a long shot. I’d be happy to help.’ He lets his smile widen into a teasing grin. ‘Final answer?’ Alexander nods, looking relieved and happy, the tension draining from his posture. ‘Yeah. My first wish is for Izzy’s IVF tomorrow to succeed.’

***

The next day, Magnus arrives at the clinic fifteen minutes before Izzy’s appointment. Five minutes later, a familiar couple arrives, and the woman says, ‘Hi - Isabelle Lightwood, I have a 3:15 appointment with Dr Anderson?’ They take a seat not far from him, and Magnus peers at them discreetly over his magazine. Alexander showed him a photograph of the two of them together, but even without that, he thinks he could have recognised them. Isabelle looks very like her brother – the same dark, shiny hair, earnest hazel eyes, and strong, serious brows. She’s holding onto her husband’s hand, a slightly shaky smile on her face as he rambles on softly, encouragingly, and she looks lost somewhere between excited and afraid.

They’re called through, still holding hands. Magnus ducks into the restroom, checking that it’s empty, and snaps his fingers, changing his appearance with a glamour. He heads back into the waiting room, picks up a different magazine, and takes a seat in a chair closer to the corridor they left through.

Some time later, they reappear, a slight shuffle to Isabelle’s gait and Simon’s arm curled loosely around her waist. Magnus puts down the magazine, and pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, frowning down at it as he strides towards them. He gives a soft grunt of apparent surprise as he bumps into Isabelle, his palm briefly resting over her navel and sending a spark of magic into her system. ‘Oh – so sorry,’ he says, flashing each of them an apologetic smile before he continues on his way.

He resists the temptation to look back, and leaves the clinic out of the side entrance.

***

When he arrives back at Alexander’s apartment that evening, Magnus immediately spots him stretched out on the sofa, in much the same way he himself was earlier. ‘Hey!’ Alexander leaps to his feet, switching off the television and putting his half-empty bowl down on the coffee table, before rushing over until he’s stood right in front of Magnus. Excitement and fear are warring on his face, a sight breathtakingly similar to what Magnus saw in Isabelle’s expression earlier. ‘How’d it – well – Did it work?’ At this point in the proceedings, Magnus isn’t even surprised to find himself smiling anymore. Alexander just seems to have that effect on him. He reaches out, stilling the excitement somewhat with a hand at his elbow. ‘It went perfectly,’ he said. ‘A small nudge, a hint of magic, and voila – wish granted. I expect that in a few weeks, Isabelle will be calling you with some very good news.’

Alexander beams at him, and maybe he’s been stuck in the lamp for too long, because until just now Magnus had forgotten why smiles like that were likened to sunlight. ‘Thank you. That’s just – God, I’m so happy for them. Thank you for that.’ ‘You’re most welcome, Alexander.’ He drops his hand, making a small shooing motion. ‘Go finish your dinner, you’ll get indigestion leaping up in the middle of a meal like that.’ Alexander does as he’s told, but calls back over his shoulder, ‘Yours is on the table, if you’re hungry.’ Magnus blinks, trying to school his face back into something casual. ‘Thank you,’ he says. He’s been saying that a lot, since he got here. He wanders over to the table, humming appreciatively at the sight and smell of a generous bowl of tagliatelle, with just the right amount of Bolognese sauce stirred through it. He snaps his fingers, simultaneously reheating the food and conjuring a light dusting of parmigiano-reggiano.

He walks back out to the living room, a little surprised to see that Alexander hasn’t resumed the show he was watching, and is instead turning to face Magnus as he takes a seat. ‘I hope it’s okay,’ he says. ‘It’s from an Italian recipe book my parents bought me for Christmas.’ He chuckles. ‘I’m not what you’d call a natural chef, but give me a list of instructions, and I’ll get there.’ Magnus samples a forkful of pasta. It’s a little light on the garlic for his taste, but it’s delicious, and he digs in eagerly. He was hungrier than he thought, and he can sense Alexander’s satisfaction at providing adequate sustenance for his houseguest.

Alexander turns back to his own meal, and Magnus takes the opportunity to look at him surreptitiously, curiosity once more curling around his thoughts. When Alexander’s gaze flicks back towards him suspiciously, he realises that he wasn’t being as surreptitious as he thought. ‘What?’ Alexander asks. ‘Do I have Bolognese on my face?’ Magnus chuckles, shaking his head. ‘No, no such thing. It’s just…’ He trails off with a shrug, but Alexander stays focused on him as they finish the last mouthfuls of their meals. Magnus banishes the dishes with a lazy wave of his hand, and Alexander smiles in appreciation, but doesn’t say anything, clearly giving Magnus the opportunity to continue speaking.

Which, eventually, he does. ‘I meant it, before,’ he says, ‘about people wishing for children, for successful pregnancies. It’s very common. But this is the first time I can remember someone making that wish for a loved one’s sake, rather than their own.’ Alexander looks down, and Magnus wants to tell him that it’s certainly nothing to be embarrassed about, but he doesn’t want to interrupt when Alexander starts to speak. ‘I don’t know, it’s just… She’s wanted this for such a long time. And after they kept trying, and getting nowhere, and decided to start having the treatment – she was just so upset. She came over, and she was crying, and I knew I couldn’t do anything to make it better for her.’ He swallows hard, and Magnus almost winces in sympathy. ‘Then, after the two failed IVF attempts… She was putting a brave face on it, talking about the possibility of adoption – which obviously, is a great option, I mean, Jace was adopted and we wouldn’t be without him �� but I could just tell, that even if she wasn’t out of options, another setback was just… I wasn’t sure she could handle it.’ He looks up at Magnus, and his eyes are shiny, and Magnus is pretty sure his own are too. Alexander shrugs. ‘I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do. If I’ve got a way to help her, I want to, you know?’

Alexander’s looking at him like he’s expecting derision, criticism for some naïveté on his part. Magnus smiles at him, and sighs. ‘You continue to surprise me, Alexander. I’ve granted a lot of wishes, but rarely one so selfless.’ Alexander looks down at his feet again, mumbling something that might have been a thanks, or possibly another I don’t know, and Magnus makes a mental note that while he’s here, he should make a habit of giving compliments. Alexander could really use some practice receiving them.

But for now, he changes the topic, lightening the mood once more. ‘By the way, I couldn’t help but notice your bow,’ he says, gesturing to the wall behind them, where a navy and silver bow is proudly mounted on the wall. ‘It’s in beautiful condition, so either you dust your décor more than anyone I’ve ever met, or you actually use it.’ Alexander smiles. ‘Yeah, I’ve been into archery for a while now. Probably since I was… fourteen? Maybe? I’m not great, but I enjoy it. It’s good for some downtime – helps me switch off my brain.’ Magnus snorted lightly. ‘I’m sure you’re being modest.’ Novices had simple recurve bows, not nearly as difficult to wield as the compound contraption behind them. ‘You’ll have to dazzle me with your skills sometime.’ He winked, fully expecting Alexander’s blush, but fully delighted by it all the same. He might not be here for long, but there was no harm in flirting a little while he was, he reasoned. After all, Alexander was sweet, and handsome, and possibly one of the most thoughtful men Magnus had ever met.

Plus, he had always found people who could handle their weaponry very, very attractive.

~oOo~

[elisajdb]

Just the Two of Us: IV

GoChi Week 2019 - @gochi-week

GoChi Day (3/28)

Characters: Goku and Chichi 

Prompt:  Soulmates 

Title: Soulmates

AN: Slightly stronger T rating for this one. 

Goku knew this day would happen. He didn’t know when but he knew it would happen. He only had to wait. He didn’t know it would be seven years but it was here and he only had one day. It will have to count. When he thought of seeing Gohan and Chichi again, in his mind, he expected them to look the same. He knew he shouldn’t think that. After seven years, Gohan will have grown and he certainly did! Gohan had an inch or two over him in height. Chichi looked as pretty as he always saw her.

 Then there was Goten.

 He never thought when he died, when he left his family, Chichi was pregnant. He wasn’t sure he would’ve made the same decision to not return if he’d known about Goten. He had doubts about his decision. Seeing Gohan so tall made Goku realize how much he missed. He didn’t see his oldest son grow up. With Goten, he missed everything. All the firsts: steps, words, laughs and cries; he missed it all.

 Chichi had to burden all that alone. He knew how difficult it was for Chichi when she was in labor with Gohan. Did she go through the same thing with Goten? How difficult was it for her to care for Goten when he was a baby? Sure, Chichi had Gohan but Goku remembered how difficult it was during those first months with Gohan and adjusting their schedule. Maybe things were different. Chichi knew more now than then, and having raised Gohan, Chichi knew how to deal with a second baby that’s half Saiyan.

 “We have twenty minutes before we have to join the other competitors,” Gohan said. “Goten and I will wait with the others while you and Dad have a moment to talk.”

 Talk? Goku panicked. There was so much to say. Would twenty minutes be enough? What would Chichi say? He ran away from her when he couldn’t promise Gohan wouldn’t fight Cell. She could be angry that’s the last memory he left with for seven years. She could be angry with him for not contacting her after he died. He said goodbye to everyone on Kami’s Temple. Everyone except his wife. He left it to Gohan to break the news to Chichi. It had to be him. After the whole Raditz ordeal, Goku didn’t trust his friends to tell Chichi anything. Perhaps he should’ve tried harder giving Chichi a proper goodbye.

“Daddy,” Goten called to Goku. “Aren’t you gonna put me down?”

 What if Chichi was angry with him leaving her pregnant? Goten looked like him. Was Chichi tortured by his twin staring at her, day after day, year after year? Did that torture turn to anger and resentment?

 “Daddy,” Goten waved his hand in front of Goku’s face. “Did you hear me?”

 Since meeting Goten, Goku held Goten in his arms. He never let him go even while Gohan led the family to a private spot to talk.

 “Sorry….. Goten.” He lowered Goten to his feet. He had to get used to that name. The irony. Seven years and he’s learning the name of his second child. Goten ran to his brother and walked off with him leaving Goku and Chichi alone. Goku stared at his departing sons until they turned a corner and were no longer in view. One day. Twenty-four hours. Will he have enough time?

 I don’t wanna go back.

 “It’s nice to see you, Goku,” Chichi said after a long silence. Goku turned to face Chichi. She held her hands crossed over the other in front of her. She kept a respectful distance from him. Goku noticed as his family came to this spot, Gohan walked closed to him but Chichi didn’t. Was she really angry with him? “You haven’t changed. I guess….” she laughed mirthlessly, “that’s what happens when you’re dead.”

 “You haven’t either.” His eyes did a quick sweep over Chichi. “You’re still the same.”

 For several moments, both stared at each other. After seven years, what could they say? He would leave it to Chichi to speak. After leaving and letting her go through pregnancy and raising their second child alone, he wanted her to do the speaking. She probably had a lot to say. He needed to give her that. He owed it to her.

 Bravely, Chichi took a step toward him. She touched his face and her eyes immediately watered. “Warm. I wasn’t sure how you would feel. Since you’re dead, I thought your body would be cold. I’m glad it’s not.” Her fingers traveled to his hair, gently touching his dark locks. Goku’s eyes closed. He recalled Chichi doing this to him during a break at the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament. Back then, they were so young and innocent. They had no idea how their lives will be turned upside in a few years; how he will die twice, how his alien past, the psychological and physical changes he will undergo will rock their relationship to its core. They’ve changed so much since then.

 Especially, Chichi. He put her through so much. Sometimes even he wondered how she stayed with him after all these years. Even now, it was clear Chichi hadn’t moved on as friends he made in the afterlife warned him. All these years Chichi remained faithful.

 Goku cupped her face. A tear fell from her eye and dropped on his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For everything.”

 Chichi pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Um, how are things in the afterlife? I imagine you’ve met a lot of people.” Her lips were turned up in a smile but her eyes were dull. “I bet you made a lot friends. Tell me about them.”

 She was holding back and avoiding the elephant in the room. Goku didn’t want that. He wanted Chichi to say what was on her mind and how she really feels about his absence. This was her only chance. When he left, it will be for good and Goku knew Chichi will later regret not saying anything.

 “I saw your reaction to the news of my death. You collapsed on the floor.” Chichi’s eyes grew wide at his confession. “I’m sorry for not contacting you when I died. I wanted to but King Kai said I couldn’t. It was breaking the rules but he allowed me to talk to Gohan to help him defeat Cell since the universe was at stake.”

 “And on Kami’s Temple?” her voice was emotionless. “There was no fight then.”

 He could hear the underlying anger in those last words. “I was only allowed because I had to tell everyone I didn’t wanna be wished back. I begged King Kai to let me talk to you but he wouldn’t. He said, ‘If I give in and did this for you now, you’ll bother me every time you want to check in on your family.’”

 Chichi reacted with silence and a long stare until…. “Well,” Chichi wryly agreed, “you would’ve.”

 “Yeah,” Goku forced a laugh. “I guess King Kai made the right decision on that.”

 Silence fell between them again. Goku didn’t know what to say and Chichi….. “We shouldn’t have this conversation,” Chichi told him. “You’re only here for twenty-four hours. What’s done is done. We can’t change what happened. We should focus on the time we have left and make happy memories for Goten and Gohan.”

 What about happy memories for you, Chichi?

 No. What Chichi wanted wasn’t enough for Goku. Goku didn’t like this unsettled tension hanging between them. “I won’t be happy if I left and you didn’t get a chance to say what you’ve kept inside all these years.” Goku reached out to hug Chichi but she stepped away before he could touch her. Her rejection felt like a crippling punch to his stomach. “I screwed up that badly, haven’t I? You hate me.”

 Again there was silence. If his heart could beat, it would be threatening to burst from his chest. “No. It’s…. I do wanna touch you.” With less than twenty-four hours, Chichi wasn’t going to draw this out. “If I let you put your arms around me, I’ll remember how it feels. I’m trying my best to not feel too much. If I touch you that way, it’ll be even harder on me after you’re gone.”

 “Oh.” At least she didn’t hate him but her words were painful to hear. Still, if that’s what Chichi wanted…..

 “Your decision wasn’t easy for me to handle,” Chichi spoke quietly. “I broke down. It was one thing having to wait a year for you but to know you wouldn’t come back…. that crushed my soul. I was in a dark spot for a while. I felt my soul was gone. I didn’t let Gohan see how much your death broke me. I cooked and cleaned. I even conjured up a yell every once in a while to make Gohan think I was fine but I was not. I was empty. It was only discovering I was pregnant with Goten that I begin to feel life in my soul again. He pulled me out of my dark place, Goku. When he was born and I held him for the first time, I saw you. I thought you came back to me. I noticed the effect Goten had on Gohan; on everyone. It was as if you came back to all of us.”

 “So,” he mulled over her words, “with Goten…….”

 “I began to heal. Not completely,” she admitted. “I don’t think my soul will be completely heal until I join you in the afterlife. You are my soulmate after all.”

 What Chichi confessed was very heavy to hear but he needed to hear it; Chichi needed to say it. “I’m sorry I put you through a rough time but I’m glad you’re better.” Above all else, he wanted Chichi happy. “I didn’t know about Goten.” He wanted her to know that. “If I had known…..

 “You still had a son that needed you.”

 “Not as much anymore,” Goku murmured. “I know my decision to stay dead was gonna be hard on you and Gohan, but I thought it was the best thing for you. I thought returning would be selfish. If I’m alive, then you and Gohan would be in danger of another threat. Maybe it will be a year from now. Maybe three or five years but it will happen.”

 Chichi shook her head, trying to make sense of Goku’s words. “Why would you think this?”

 “When I was a kid, Bulma once told me bad things seem to follow me wherever I go. I didn’t care and I didn’t believe her but when I discovered the creation of the Artificial Humans was a grudge against me by Dr. Gero; when I saw his hatred for me brought the world on the brink of destruction by Cell, I finally believed her.”

 “That’s ridiculous!” Chichi was outraged. How could he think that about himself? “You’re not a threat to our safety. This trouble that Bulma claimed about you led to a more peaceful world. You defeated the Red Ribbon Army. Not even King Furry’s army could stop them but you did. Do you know how many lives have been saved because you stopped the Red Ribbon Army? King Piccolo,” Chichi brought up. “You were not the one who freed him from his prison but you saved us. Do you know what a wasteland this planet would’ve been if you hadn’t stopped him? None of us, including our children, would be here if not for you.”

 Chichi’s defense for his childhood battles were valid. He wondered about his adulthood. “My brother came for me. He took Gohan. I died, everyone else died and an entire city was destroyed when I couldn’t make it back in time.”

 It was true the ending of the battle vs Vegeta and Nappa was bittersweet. “People died. That’s horrible but it would have been worse if you hadn’t shown up. No one on this planet would be here if not for you. You also saved the lives of many galaxies because you overthrew Freeza. Your mistake was not finishing him off,” Chichi admitted that flaw of Goku’s, “but you do have a knack for making friends out of enemies: Yamcha, Tien, Piccolo and even Vegeta. You changed so many lives for the better by being you.”

 Goku never considered that. All he could think leading to the Cell Games, everything was his fault. If he survived the battle against Cell, he knew it was a matter of time before another threat came. If he died, there will be peace at last for his family and Earth. Now he saw the mistake in his thinking. “You always know what to say, Chichi. Maybe I should’ve told you about this.”

 “You’re damn right you should’ve!” Chichi cupped his face. “You listen to me and you listen good. You are not a threat to our safety. Never have been. Never will be.” Startling him and herself, Chichi pulled his face to hers and kissed him. In it, she poured all her love for him. When she parted from the kiss, she was breathless. She pressed his forehead against hers. “My poor Goku. You’re always sacrificing your feelings, your wants and desires for us. It’s not fair. You gave up everything for us. I had my father, Gohan and Goten and you didn’t have anyone.” Chichi wrapped her arms around his neck. She held him close. “Oh, Goku. I hate you suffered alone.”

 Chichi’s words were soothing to his soul. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear. However, there was something else more important that happened that warmed his soul.

 “You kissed me.” Goku was amazed. “You’re hugging me.” His arms wrapped around Chichi’s body. He needed this. He needed her. “I didn’t think you would touch me like this again.”

 She didn’t think she would either but this talk told her she was wrong on that matter. “You need this.” She kissed him. “And I need this, too.” She kissed him again. This time, Goku returned the kiss. Chichi’s mouth parted under his command and he slipped his tongue inside. It was seven years but he hadn’t forgotten this skill they learned together when they were so young and innocent. With a hand on her back, Goku molded Chichi to his body; felt her clothed breasts rubbed against his clothed chest. A hand gripped her backside and pressed her further against him. His ears flamed. Chichi wasn’t the only one moaning!

 This longing, this craving consumed them both. Chichi could feel her body reacting. She could feel Goku’s hardening body rubbed against hers. She could feel the moisture forming between her legs. Instead of squelching these feelings; instead of comparting her emotions, Chichi welcomed them. After seven years, a part of her she kept dormant, came alive. She’ll mourn later but she needed this today.

 Chichi broke the kiss but her hands remained on his face and in his hair. “I need you.” Her breathing was ragged. Her gaze met his. The need in his eyes. She hadn’t seen such a look in seven years; not since the night before the Cell Games; the night she knew Goten was conceived. She wanted him now but knew they had to wait. “I can’t wait for tonight.”

 “No,” Goku shook his head. “Not tonight. We ain’t waitin’ for tonight. We’re doing this now.”

 Chichi eyes blinked baffled. “What? We have to get back.” The entire twenty minutes weren’t over but they needed to return to the others. Goku took her hand and pulled her further down the corridor. “Someone could see us. We don’t have time.”

 “We’ve been here a while with Gohan and Goten and no one’s come this way.” He pushed Chichi against the brick wall. “I smell you. It won’t take long to get you ready.”

 Goku pressed his mouth against Chichi’s. They kissed as if they were starving and needed each other for substance. As she challenged Goku’s mouth for dominance, his hands were fast at work. She felt her purple obi come loose, her yellow cheongsam opened and bra pushed over her breasts in seconds.

 “Ah!” Chichi gasped feeling Goku suckled a breast while a hand disappeared in her turquoise pants. “Mmm!” she bit her lower lips so she wouldn’t scream so loud. Her cheeks were flushed as she panted at the rapid succession of Goku’s hand between her legs. She moved her hand to free Goku’s obi. She meant to slip her hand down Goku’s pants to return some of the pleasure treatment he was giving her. Instead, Goku grabbed her hand and slapped it against the wall while his mouth bit down on the nipple of her other breast and suckled deeply.

 Her breasts heaved, her breath came in heavy pants and her eyes nearly rolled back. This was in a public setting where they could be caught. Instead of being scared, Chichi was thrilled and her body pulsed with hot desire and excitement.  Chichi felt her pants slide further down her thighs and her open legs suddenly lift off the ground. Chichi bit Goku’s clothed shoulder as she felt Goku enter her.

 Goku groaned in Chichi’s neck as her tight and warm body wrapped around him. “You’re so tight.”

Chichi’s eyes were shut as she welcomed the intensity of Goku’s thrusting. Time was short so he smacked his body against hers rapidly. Her hands gripped his body, her lips bit into his neck to keep her screaming at bay at the quick pounding until she convulsed around him.

 She winced feeling Goku bite down on her neck as he pulsed in her. Goku’s hold on her relaxed. Chichi felt her legs touched the ground again. Goku’s face still buried in her neck but his teeth no longer pierced her skin. Instead, his heavy breathing fanned it.

 They held each other for several moments as their bodies relaxed from the quick, intense sex. “We need to head back,” Chichi told him. It was the last thing she wanted but she knew the others will come for them reminding her and Goku the competitors had to enter the tournament. Someone could come down the corridor now and see their state of undress. “Come on, Goku.” Chichi gently pushed Goku away. “We need to get dressed.”

 Wordlessly, Goku released her. Chichi adjusted her clothes, pushing her bra down, pulling up her pants and fastening her Cheongsam. She winced feeling the added moisture between her legs. She’ll have to excuse herself to the restroom when they get back. Saiyans she thought with a blush. She forgot about that.

 Chichi noticed Goku pulled his pants up but stared motionless at the ground. Chichi didn’t understand Goku’s behavior. She picked up his obi, tucked his shirt in his pants and secured his obi around his waist. Goku remained silent as Chichi finished dressing him.

 “Goku,” she tugged his hand. “We have to go back.”

 “I don’t wanna go back.”

 Chichi tried to decipher what he meant. “If you don’t want to compete, that’s fine.” In fact, Chichi hoped for this. She wanted her family to spend as much time together as possible. She didn’t want Goku sacrificing a few hours competing. They could use that prize money but she’ll find another way to deal with the family’s finances. “You, Gohan, Goten and I can go back to our home on Mount Paouz. I have a wonderful meal waiting for us. If you need to fight, you can do it with our sons.”

 “No.” Goku shook his head. “I don’t wanna go back to the afterlife. I wanna stay here. I wanna catch up with Gohan. I wanna get to know Goten. I’ll even get that job you wanted to me to get if I can stay.”

 Chichi wished she could grant Goku’s wish. She wanted to remove the ache in his heart. She couldn’t do either but she could try easing the pain. Chichi brought Goku’s head down so his forehead pressed against hers again. “I want that, too. More than anything I want that but we have to deal with the hand life gave us. You have to go back to the afterlife. You’ll miss us but you’ll be happy with your friends there. We’ll miss you but we’ll be happy, too. When we join you, nothing will take us from each other. We just have to wait.”

 It was gonna be a long wait Goku thought dully. He did make friends in the afterlife. He was happy but he was still lonely. He wanted to be with his family. “When you cross over, I’ll be there to welcome you,” Goku promised. “I’ll be there to make our souls whole again. I promise.”

 Chichi embraced him. She needed to hear that. His promise to be there when she crossed over ease the ache in her heart that she’ll feel once Goku leaves. “Thank you and I’ll bring with me memories of our children, stories of everything that happened.”

 With a final kiss, Goku and Chichi parted. “We can make some today.” They resume their walk down the corridor. It was time to leave their private spot and join the rest of the world again. “I only have one day. We better make the most of it, Chichi.”

 “We will,” Chichi promised. “It’ll be the best day ever.”

[iamwhelmed]

Homesick: Chapter 1

I wasn’t originally gonna post this here, but eh. I post everything else here, may as well post this too This one is only going to be 3 chapters, nothing that demand my attention the way WOHT does. This is a writing exercise pretty much, just a fun one!

Summary: Raven finds herself carrying Beast Boy's child and struggles with the fear of losing him and the impending responsibility of being a mother; Starfire finds Robin in a precarious position with another woman. The two leave the tower to live on their own for awhile, just to figure things out. Beast Boy and Robin may be losing their minds, and Cyborg tries to keep everyone together.

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.net

The nausea was twisting on her, like a fist in her stomach that rumbled and hissed and seethed every time she moved- not that she was doing a whole lot of that from her seat on the bathroom floor. She wasn't sure if this bout of nausea was the sheer force of terror washing over her spine in a shroud of blinding panic, or if it was a symptom…

She was, after all, pregnant. The stick in her hand, pink and cheery with a positive sign despite her ever-frantic mind stirring, said as such. She couldn't find it in her to muster up a glare at the + and the way it mocked her, not when her body was trembling and it was taking every ounce of control she had to not bust open every light fixture in the entire tower. Cyborg would flip majorly, lose his circuits, and attention was the last thing she wanted to call to herself right now.

She dropped the stick limply into the can beside the toilet, raising one hand to rub soothing circles into her temple as the other braced her body against the cold rims of the porcelain throne, keeping her steady in case her body began heaving uncontrollably.

She'd known, if she was honest; she'd known the first morning several weeks ago when she'd shot up out of her warm bed after a late night of reading to go upchuck. She'd kept herself calm, mediated on it, went down a list of reasons why she wouldn't-- couldn't-- be with child.

Or maybe it was just denial.

She groaned, lips curling into a grimace as she dragged her nails across the toilet's edge. How far along was she? She wasn't sure. Somebody else may have been able to pinpoint the exact… intimate moment… that placed a budding life inside of her. She, unfortunately, could not. Beast Boy, for all his bark over the ladies, turned out to actually have some bite to back it up.

A lot of bite, actually, and he bit often. Which was why she was here now, clutching onto what little was left of the herbal tea she'd tried to calm herself to sleep with earlier that morning. It was still hardly 5 am, early enough the sun was still hours away from making its grand entrance, which meant she had hours to figure out what exactly she was going to do before Robin inevitably woke up and demanded to know why exactly she looked distinctly paler than usual.

"Think, Raven, think!" Talking to herself helped calm her nerves, if only by a fraction, but her stomach churned with every syllable in protest. All right, facts:

1. She was pregnant, pregnant with Beast Boy's child; specifics were important, she could hear Robin's encouraging voice reminding her.

2. Beast Boy, the guy who still tried to convince others to call him "Beast Man", the guy who still regularly pulled pranks on his fellow titans, the guy who was still full of hope and enthusiasm and youthful passion… he was not ready to be a father.

3. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure she was ready to be a mother.

She took three deep breaths, trying to settle the urge to throw up the rest of her herbal tea, and perhaps preemptively empty her stomach of anything else she may decide to stuff it with the rest of the day.

4. There was no hiding this from the rest of the titans, especially not Robin and Beast Boy. Robin was the protegee of one of the most legendary detectives to walk the earth, and a leader who was defined by his dedication to his team and his friends-- his family. And Beast Boy?

Oh, Beast Boy knew her too well. He knew every nook and cranny of her soul, but perhaps more importantly, he knew her body. The first few times they'd… spent the night together… he'd spent hours afterward watching her sleep, taking in her shape, her tone, her skin, all of which would be affected by the impending life burrowed deep inside of her. She'd loved his attentiveness, loved waking up in the morning to his body woven protectively around hers like a second blanket. He'd always been gentle with her, understanding, and she'd acted in kind as they got to know each other on a more physical level, show each other just how much they loved having that special permission to touch each other, press kisses in places nobody else could, see and touch places nobody else could.

She could hide it for a month, maybe, but the moment she started showing, he'd know something was off, and that was if his impeccable sense of smell didn't give her away beforehand. Raven cursed, wondering what he would say, or maybe how wide and petrified his eyes would get before he inevitably either freaked out, or swallowed his fears and did "the right thing", only for the pressure to be too much for him to bare.

But what other choice did she have? She couldn't very well hole herself up in her room and wait for their child to come tumbling out of her in the middle of her bedroom floor, not that she would get as far as three weeks before Starfire and Cyborg and Beast Boy set up alternating camps outside her bedroom, waiting for a chance to talk to her because something was clearly very wrong.

No, she had to hide somewhere else, just until she figured all of this out. She'd leave a note, let her friends know she was fine, that she would eventually come home to them. But her home was starting to feel like a nightmare she'd accidentally conjured for herself. She didn't have to hide the entire pregnancy, right? No, she would go away for a little while and return with a clearer mind. That way, she could face her team. Face Beast Boy…

Her legs trembled under her full weight as she stood up. With a hiss, she braced herself against the bathroom counter. "Azarath… Metrion… Zin-"

There was a knock at the door, light, but present. Her body seized up, and behind her she could hear what distinctly sounded like the shower curtain ripping from the wall, edges squeaking against the tile of the shower walls as it clamored loudly to the floor, making her wince every bit of the way. Great job not drawing attention to yourself, Raven. She swallowed, hard. "Y-Yes?" She hated the way her throat choked her words into weak stuttering.

"Friend Raven," Starfire, then. Great. Then again, not the worst possible person, she mused. "I heard the throwing up, and I wanted to be sure that you were-"

"I'm okay, Starfire." She took small puffs of air through her nose, keeping her body and her voice even. "Probably just ate something a little past the expiration date is all…"

"But you are unwell, yes?"

Extremely. "I'll be fine, Starfire--" Her stomach lurched, and before she could curse the inopportune moment, she was heaving into the toilet again. The last of her herbal tea lurched from her mouth like a stream into the toilet's still warm embrace, and yet the little infant yet to grow so much as eyes was forcing her to further expunge her stomach. Bile mixed with water filled the toilet soon after, left her throat burning as she wiped haphazardly at her mouth with the back of her wrist. Not even a month old and her little one had a knack for inconveniencing her at the worst moments. She glared sardonically down at her stomach, still flat for the time being, and soothed very little by the hand that'd taken to rubbing circles into it.

The bathroom door opened, though she definitely remembered locking it. She turned her head to the side, just a fraction, just enough to see Starfire literally doing the most silent job she'd ever done of literally tearing a door off its hinges. The metal creased under the force of her hands, but she very delicately pulled the door to the side and off the wall, slowly so as to not make a ruckus. She placed it on the wall beside the door's threshold.

Her stomach lurched again, and she hurriedly burrowed her head into the toilet in preparation for the toxic sensation of heaving whatever else she had left to vomit. Come on, give me a break! If this was in any way an indication of what this little one's sleeping habits would be like, she was going to need help. A lot of it. She grinded her teeth as another wave of nausea hit her, and she heaved over the toilet, feeling her chest strain with every feeble attempt she made at throwing up. Warm fingers rested at her back, rubbing up and down in slow, settling paces. Her stomach immediately seemed to relax, the queasiness that'd enveloped her since four this morning melting away. She stayed hunched over the toilet, though, just in case. Starfire never ceased in her ministrations, pausing only to move a lock of hair out of her face, which she was only realizing now was paved with a thick coat of sweat. She'd seen the box on the counter, she was sure of it. There was no use hiding.

"Raven…"

"He can't know, Star."

"I do not understand. You wish to hide such a joyous occasion from Friend Beast Boy?"

"It won't be so joyous in nine months when he's got no clue how to be a father."

"I do believe Beast Boy has been good with children in the past?"

Raven pulled away from the toilet, and Starfire was on her in a second, gentle hands helping her to rest against the bathroom counter. She gave Starfire the best smile she could muster in her state, not much considering forcing a smile was difficult even when her insides weren't struggling to accommodate a second body. Starfire smile back though, getting the message regardless. There was no need to thank her, she was merely doing what a friend ought to do. "No, Star, he's good at entertaining kids. Raising them is…" Different. A responsibility-- not just to their child, but to her.

Maybe that was the issue.

Starfire frowned, then moved away from the toilet to sit next to her on the tile floor, up against the counter. She pressed her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as though she was the one with a small bump to hide. "What are you going to do?"

Raven sighed, closing her eyes, hoping that the quiet she found now would give her room to think, maybe come up with a different solution, but nothing came. "I have to leave, Star."

"But--!"

"Not forever, and not for long." She glanced to her side to see the look of panic on Starfire's face fade to apprehension. "Just long enough to think. Decide what I'm doing to do."

Starfire's fingers twisted around each other, the way they did when she was stumbling over her thoughts. Raven could feel the trepidation coming off her in waves. She raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to tell her exactly what was on her mind. The tense line that had been on Starfire's face dissolved to a frown as she glanced from the floor to Raven's face. "And what if… you do not decide to come back?"

Part of her heart, squeezed and dry from all the worrying she'd done earlier, thawed at the love she felt in Starfire, like the very edges of a warm fire on a cold winter night. Of course Starfire was going to fear her departure, caring was what Starfire did best. "Starfire, I will come back. I have to eventually, even if that means I have to be away for a few years-"

"Years! But will Friend Beast Boy not be upset to miss such a period of time in his child's life?"

Raven's heart clenched again. "I.. I don't know. It's certainly not in my plan to be away that long, but if I give him a few more years to--" To what? Mature? Did she really want that? True, he was obnoxious, and sometimes he could be disgusting (Stankball, check and point), but his boyishness kept him warm, kept him bright and welcoming and, Azar help her, charming. Her worst fear was that he would lose that charm, lose his smile. She loved him, loved him more than her powers let her indulge in sometimes. To ask that he change because of a child he didn't even know about…

No, she didn't want him to change. That wasn't the issue.

"Raven?"

"I-I can't." She hated the way her voice broke. "I can't ask him to take on this responsibility, Star. As it is sometimes I think I'm too much. A child would just mean…" Death for the relationship. Turmoil for her.

There was a warm hand on her shoulder, and it squeezed gently, affirmingly. "I think it would be best if you spoke to Robin first. He is our leader for a reason, yes?"

Raven closed her eyes again, smiled to herself. Of course, Robin would be able to handle this, help her think things through. He was a rock in that way, understood her in a way nobody else could (aside from him but she couldn't talk to him about this, not yet). He would be there for her, just as Starfire was here for her now. Why had she been so scared of him knowing before? She smiled at Starfire, and it was weak, she was weak, but it was enough. She nodded.

The walk to Robin's room was slow, tedious, but Starfire's presence alone seemed to quell the urge her stomach had to make a mess of her intestines. She placed one pale, trembling hand where the baby sat-- would sit-- and took a deep breath. Starfire placed her fist on his door and knocked a few times, gently. The hour was still early, a quarter to six, and the sun was still not due to rise for another hour at least. Robin wouldn't be up for some time usually, but this was important. "Robin, I am sorry to disturb your sleep, but Friend Raven and I need to speak to you. It is of utmost importance!" There was no response, not even a shift in sound on the other side of the door. Raven glanced to Starfire, who was walking a thin line between frowning and pouting.

"Starfire, it can wait for another hour." She turned around to leave, but Starfire gripped the length of her hood and yanked her right back, causing Raven to sharply take in the air she'd been denied in that one moment.

"No it cannot." She typed in a number on the keypad to Robin's room, face set in a thin line of determination. Raven found herself squirming, ready to hightail it back to her room. The sliding door to Robin's room opened, and Starfire seemed to freeze. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, and Raven could feel it the way one could smell a fruit turning. The air became thick with emotion, emotion Raven rarely felt in the tower, and only felt it in strangling strength once. When she did feel it on the regular, it was in such a small dose that it was as easy to look over as it was to roll her eyes, spawned usually from a round between Beast Boy and Cyborg where one swore up and down the other cheated. But this? This clouded her mind, took her heart and clawed at the already-worn muscle. Starfire stood stock-still at the door, eyes wide with an emotion Raven took a moment to recognize.

Betrayal.

She said nothing, just approached Star's side and glanced into the room.

Robin laid asleep, peaceful, one of the rare moments he ever let himself rest, become unaware and at ease for a moment's time. But Raven could sense, amid the terror that was slowly easing into Starfire, the new level of relief that seemed to consume Robin as he slept. She had a feeling it had something to do with the woman fast asleep beside him, wrapped around him in a tangle of blankets and-- surprisingly drapeless-- limbs. Both were dressed, of course, Robin never took off his mask and his uniform rarely came off, but the woman was in a state of considerably less dress, clad only in what appeared to be a thin pair of underwear and what must have been one of Robin's old training shirts. Both were fast asleep, dead to the world aside from each other, moving only to get closer together at the gust of wind his open door allowed.

Raven would have been in a state of shock herself, had she not been so emotionally drained from the last two hours. She turned to look at Starfire, who had begun quivering, the wheels of her mind processing the site before her with such a painful progression that Raven could see her heart breaking with every second that passed. Quickly, she grabbed Starfire and pulled her out of the doorway, leaving the door to Robin's room, and Robin's questionable state, to close. "Starfire…"

"No. He would never…"

Raven sighed, knowing very well what Starfire was feeling, and she didn't even need to use the powers granted to an empath. It was obvious what had transpired, if not because of the lack of pants on the woman in his arms, but because of the peace she'd picked up on, peace that, in her experience, only transpired after somebody got their rocks off. Starfire was a trusting soul, but with this came a naivety that rarely reared its ugly head. She would process the truth in time, given some space, and that is why she was talking before she even knew what she was about to say. "You know, I could probably use some company while I'm away."

Starfire turned her startled eyes, full of tears and disbelief, on her. Raven sighed and massaged her stomach with her hand again, feeling her stomach churn under the new emotional weight that'd suddenly commanded the halls. "I'm not sure if it's the baby or my powers, but I think dealing with this alone has made things a million times worse. I'm leaving, Star." But I want you to come with me. It wasn't a lie; the aching dullness of her stomach seemed to fade once she had a confidant. And the stress of dealing with pregnancy alone had subsided once Starfire's warm hand had shifted up and down her back, like a veil lifted from her head. Company was exactly what she needed. Starfire blinked a few times, owlishly staring off into space, tears that had welled cascading in trails down her cheeks to her chin. It took her a few moments, but she nodded. Raven sighed and turned away, high-tailing it in the direction of her room. "Go pack. We only have an hour before Prince Charming wakes up."

[vaarchie]

fanfic where veronica and archie are married with them finding out veronica is pregnant after weeks of her not feeling well (up to you if they find out together or not) xx

I closed my oneshot requests awhile ago but this one and a few others have been sitting in my ask box for quite awhile, and I wanted to write something a little different. Significantly less angsty than everything else I write. I digressed from the prompt just a little but I hope you like it!

…

Veronica loves Archie.

Differently from the way she used to love him when they were teenagers, when the weight of the entire laden universe rested on their shoulders. She could barely look up to notice that they were bright young things with the whole world in front of them; every moment of loving him then felt scary, like it could be taken away from her by the slightest shift in the wind.

Years separate them from those underserved trials, and she loves him more today than she did then. And she knows that somehow she’ll love him more tomorrow than she does today. She loves him in an infinite and unshakeable way that isn’t rattled by fear and loss and loneliness, and if she’s ever wondered if he loves her in the same way, she only needs to open her eyes in the morning to see the look on his face as he wakes up to her.

Archie loves Veronica.

Loves her like he still can’t quite believe that she’s real. That they live together in an apartment and that there are rings on their fingers and songs in the air and sheets of sunlight streaming in and beckoning them out of bed. Like he can’t quite believe it when she pushes the outside world away to curl closer to him under cool white sheets.

And when they can finally convince themselves to abandon their bed and begin their day, he can’t quite believe that he can stand with her under warm rivulets and sweating tile and nothing but steam separating their bodies, and that he can talk to her about children.

It wasn’t something either of them even really thought about for the first few years after high school, because why would they? They were bright eyed. They were free. They went everywhere. They were brave and strong and in love. Nothing was beyond their reach. It seemed there were no negative effects for any risk they took.

They moved in together and built their careers and got married, standing up in front of God and everyone else to declare their unending love and devotion to each other, two halves becoming one whole. But even though they completed each other, it felt like there was something missing.

…

For some reason, Veronica expects it to happen right away. She thought she would get pregnant immediately and that their baby would be a pea. Then a lemon. Then an eggplant. She’d follow advice. She’d read twelve books. She’d quit caffeine. Then she would have a baby, and would realize she’d spend her life doing things to make that baby happy.

Archie somehow already feels nervous and inadequate. Veronica isn’t even pregnant, and there isn’t an actual kid for him to be so concerned about screwing up, but there is this: the instinctual love that already exists for the child he wants to have with her.

Months of trying and months of crickets while Betty and Jughead announce their second pregnancy. Eleven and a half boxes of tests that Veronica squints at until she starts conjuring up imaginary pink lines. A steady loss of faith that her body possesses the clockwork capabilities to do the one thing she thinks it’s supposed to.

And Archie keeps thinking about parents who have sent their children off to war, about parents who have lost their children. Certainly they have it worse than he does, losing not just the dream of a child but also the unbreakable love and bond that comes with raising one – how dare he feel so shattered?

Until, just a mere day before Archie’s birthday, the moment comes when Veronica is home alone and starts sobbing in the kitchen holding a pregnancy test with two pink lines – two. And the sheer emotion she feels at that second is beautiful and exciting and promising.

…

Cake. Cake is celebratory and necessary and also inconspicuous with Archie’s birthday tomorrow; so, Veronica bakes a cake.

She already knows it’s his favorite but when he gets home a few hours later, she calls him into the kitchen to see it and give it his stamp of approval, which of course he does, and kisses her appreciatively. And just as he starts to turn around, Veronica clears her throat and says, “That’s not the only thing I made you.”

Archie turns back to look at her, and the anticipation of his reaction is slowly killing her. “What else did you make me?” he smiles, clueless and curious.

Then, Veronica takes a deep breath and hands him a small, rectangular, wrapped box. He carefully peels the paper away and opens the lid to reveal the positive pregnancy test.

“I made you a dad.”

She can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he works out what she means, and when he does he looks at her with utter disbelief. “We’re having a baby?” he whispers.

Tearfully she says, “Yeah. We are.”

She’s about to say something else, but she doesn’t get the chance before Archie is cutting her off by kissing her forcefully. “You’re serious? We’re gonna be parents?”

Veronica nods her head as much as she can with Archie’s hands framing her face. She knew he’d be happy, knew he’d feel the same excitement she did, but this is better than she expected. She smiles. “Happy birthday,” she says between kisses.