#birthing complications tw

[townsenddecades]

1334 – Day 1 – Elbenhawke Hall

To say that there is general relief when Baroness Elbenhawke finally, finally announces that she is with child – after three years of marriage – would be an understatement. The baron is elated and showers his wife with attention and gifts. There is no woman in England that is better cared-for than Lettice Pelham during the months of her pregnancy, maybe excepting Queen Philippa, who is at this time carrying her third child.

Which is to say that after all this pomp, the disappointment when the child turns out to be not the desired son, but a girl, is all the greater. And no one feels this more acutely than the baroness herself, who is glad of the healthy child – which is, after all, living proof that she can bear children – but still knows that she failed in her duty as society describes it.

The baron does his best not to let his worry show but assures her – through messengers, as she is still in confinement – that he is glad to have any child at all, which is not a lie. Few men could be unaffected by the prospect of holding their own little daughter in their arms, and Richard Pelham is no exception. He already dotes on his little niece, and he is glad to have a girl of his own to coddle.

The little girl is given the name Morgana, and pronounced heiress for the time being, until the baron is blessed with a son. They are still young, after all.

But while it is true that the baron still has ample time to father more children, the tragedy that strikes next ensures that the baroness won’t be their mother. Within a week of Morgana’s birth, Lady Elbenhawke starts experiencing intense pain in her abdomen, followed by a high fever.

Her nurses care for her night and day, but all their efforts are in vain. She dies two days after the first symptoms show themselves, without having regained full consciousness.

Childbed fever is a frequent cause of death for women, be they the lowliest serf or of the purest royal blood. Richard knew it was a possibility. But to lose his baroness so suddenly, so soon after his brother’s wife’s death to birth complications, rips away the ground beneath his feet. He orders extensive mourning for Lettice and arranges as grand a funeral as his coffers can support. It is only befitting for the daughter of an earl.

But in the end, all the previous two years mean is that he and his brother are left with two infant girls and no wives. David, while somewhat recovered, is still mourning, and he himself can hardly even think of putting another woman through what Lettice and Yseult have suffered.

He knows he must do so for the continuation of the family name, but the idea leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Previous: 1334, Day 1, Part 2/4 <--> Next: 1334, Day 1, Part 4/4

[thestressedsimmer]

Despite the heartache from losing a child, Elizabeth found great joy in bonding with little Genevote. She finally understood what her mother said about loving her children so much it hurt - she had never known her heart could be so full.

She sang songs to her, cuddled her, spent every waking moment she could with her.... But eventually, she realized she was starting to feel dizzy and weak.

Worried that she might drop the newborn, Elizabeth quickly put her down. When she caught a glimpse at the ground beneath her feet? Her breath caught in her throat.

Blood.

So much blood.

She swooned, the world suddenly spinning around her. Her vision was growing blurry and she felt her breath pick up. She had never been afraid of blood before but something about this felt bad.

"Your Grace?"

A voice broke through the ringing in her ears. Her midwife was walking up behind her, placing a hand on her arm. That felt steadying, but she still wasn't steady.

"I don't... feel so...."

Elizabeth tried to communicate what was going on, but her legs could hold her no longer. She collapsed backwards into the awaiting arms of her midwife. When the older woman saw the blood? She realized what was happening.

"You're alright, dear girl. You're alright." The woman soothed while lowering her to the ground. Knowing that she had to get Elizabeth stable to let the other women try and stop her bleeding.

Elizabeth clung onto conciseness for as long as she could. If there's one thing that could be said about the duchess? It's that she was stubborn.

One thing that struck the women in the room, though, was that her eyes were looking across the room. Almost like she was looking at someone.

The women kept working on her, not willing to give up. Hours went by with Elizabeth resting in the arms of the woman who delivered her children. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do. By the time they got the bleeding to stop, she had lost too much.

"I don't have to do everything you do, Joan... just most things..."

Those were the duchess' final words. She joined her elder sister in the Watcher's arms by the evening.

[sparky-draws]

Moon 41 - Greenleaf

our first outsiders! can't believe it took this long

catch up here

[thephoebeyates]

para002

tw: emotional abusive relationships, graphic imagery of a near death experience, pregnancy/birth complications, self deprecating thoughts, anxiety, depression (this is a flashback thread with Lisa and Spencer, what else do you expect)

They're singing, "Happy Birthday" You just wanna lay down and cry

For all intents and purposes as Phoebe awoke that morning, it was just another Monday. Well, she had once again fallen victim to the peace and serenity sleep brought her, still hoping the last month had been some horrific nightmare, where she’d roll over and find Foster there and everything would be fine. But, aside from that, just another day.

She watched the sun flit through the cheap, thin curtains as she laid in bed until Misty’s mewling was impossible to ignore. She fed the cat, made herself some coffee, and watched as the first notifications of the day popped up.

One thing was certain in life. Jeanie Ramachandran was always going to be the first one to post a birthday story for Phoebe, no matter how many times the birthday girl in question had complained. There was a few years where the bartender hadn’t take into account the time difference of where she was traveling to Illinois, which left a lot of people confused on when Phoebe’s date of birth was exactly, and she couldn’t help but admit that the best birthday gifts were that of confused texts from friends and acquaintances apologizing for being a day too late or too early.

Still, she got the notification that Jeanie had added her to her Instagram story, but didn’t click on it, watching her phone curiously to see if two specific people would contact her today. Her mom was unpredictable in every sense of the word, and Foster…

She told him she’d reach out first. What was she supposed to do; text him ‘hey I’m ready to talk now. BTW its my birthday’? Phoebe would rather gouge her eyes out with a spoon. 

Still, she opened up her text history with Lisa, the last few on Phoebe’s end going undelivered which meant her mom likely disconnected her number and was starting afresh somewhere new. It wasn’t like she’d forget Phoebe’s birthday: the worst day of Lisa Yates’ life. But whether she’d break no-contact with her daughter was anyone’s guess.

12 years ago. Phoebe’s 18th birthday.

“It’s upsetting me you’re not doing a party, Bee. You’re eighteen.” Lisa whined from her usual place on the couch. Douglas had just broken up with her, now his ex-wife was single again. True love never meant to be broken apart, Phoebe assumed. And Lisa just liked an excuse to wear her bathrobe at all hours of the day.

“Who’d come to my party, Mom? You, Linc, Seb, Jeanie —,” She paused, staring at her mother incredulously. “Not exactly a big birthday blowout.”

Lisa scoffed. “Oh, please. You have more friends than that. C’mon, I can get the invitations sent out today.”

“It’s Sunday, Mom. The post office isn’t exactly open.” She had finished packing her bag for the day, the dusty blue polo shirt of her Gulp ‘n’ Go uniform being her designated birthday outfit to ring in eighteen years. “Now I’m going to work, but I’ll be back later.” And she kissed Lisa on the forehead, prepared to have a normal day.

Upon returning home, the darkness setting over the small Weaver Ridge apartment with the exception of the neon lights of Gulp ‘n’Go guiding Phoebe jimmying the lock slightly before throwing her body weight into the door to get it open. She stumbled into the darkened living room, clutching the small store bought cake that she was sure was stale, but it was the only one the gas station had. Lisa was still sitting on the couch, just where Phoebe had left her, an empty bottle of red wine on the coffee table, a fresh one just being opened. 

“Hey.” Phoebe murmured, keeping her distance, trying to gauge which drunk Lisa she was getting. It most likely wasn’t the happy-go lucky party girl most people associated with her, which meant…

“Here’s to the anniversary of when I almost died!” Lisa slurred, holding up her wine glass, red wine splashing carelessly from the rim.

“Mom..” It was a story she heard every year. Sometimes it was painted in a more forgiving light, and others like now, it was like Phoebe deliberately made her entrance to the world a difficult and painful one.

“Just sixteen, barely lived. And you, fucking hell. You had the cord wrapped around your neck, and a really weak heartbeat, and never mind I was gushing out blood like I had an unlimited supply of it.” She sneered at Phoebe, who just stood there numbly. “And I remember begging God to let me live, let us both live. And I’d provide you with a great life.” Lisa managed to stand, stumbling over to her daughter. Phoebe tried hard to blink back the tears. 

“The worst day of my life, and you’re too selfish to even honor that with a fucking party.” The smell of wine on her hot breath made Phoebe’s stomach churn. “Happy birthday, Bee.” And with a shoulder check, stormed off to her bedroom.

Phoebe stood there numbly, taking a few deep breaths, before dumping the cake in the trash and just heading to bed, preparing for tomorrow to be a truly normal day.

Blinking out of her thoughts, Phoebe closed the text history with Lisa, deciding it was probably better to not hear from her mother, and after confirming to Jeanie she was definitely going to meet her later and not bail, showered and got dressed. The only good thing about Mondays was that it was Phoebe’s day off from the paper, and with her internship ending soon, she had no qualms about going in the remainder of the week either. She had a connection, had emailed her manuscript over to a potential agent who’d possibly take her on as a client. It was just the matter of finding something else to do with her day. 

If her and Foster survived it, would he have done something? She had no doubt he’d have respected her wishes to keep things lowkey, but she couldn’t help but mourn the potential loss of the birthday of a woman in a happy relationship, rather than the single thirty year old who barely felt like she was out of her teens. At least, a small voice told her, it was better than any birthday she was forced to spend with Spencer…

7 years ago. Phoebe’s 23rd birthday.

They hadn’t been dating that long. Only meeting a few months ago when he came by chance to O’Shea’s, and Phoebe served him the wrong drink by accident. After that, Spencer came by every Friday night to ask her out. He was charming, good looking, but she had been hesitant. However, one night she agreed, and the rest was history.

The thing was, Spencer was maybe too nice. He never let Phoebe have a bad word to say about herself, any self-deprecating jokes regarding her writing or playing immediately shut down. “Y’know you shouldn’t say those things about yourself,” He had pointed out one day, “I don’t like it. You wouldn’t like it if I said those things about me, would you?” And she had to admit she wouldn’t. But maybe after two decades of her mom’s backhanded compliments and ability to fly off the handle at any given moment, Phoebe was finally waiting for Spencer, and should have just quelled her anxiety that the other shoe looming over her threateningly was going to drop.

Then she turned twenty-three. And the shoe dropped hard. 

It had been her usual routine. She’d wake up, there’d be a post from Jeanie and other texts from her friends. Her mom would douse her in attention and bitch and moan that Phoebe wasn’t throwing a party, and that she wanted to shout from the rooftops that her baby girl was born twenty-three years today! But Phoebe wanted a normal day. She had the rare weekend off from O’Shea’s, and wanted to spend time with Spencer who, by her own design, had no idea what the date meant.

But all day he was off with her, like he couldn’t have thought of anything worse than spending time with his…well, they hadn’t exactly put a label on it yet, but Phoebe assumed with the way things were going it wouldn’t be long until they were boyfriend and girlfriend. It wasn’t until they came back to his apartment, a large chrome inspired place in the nice part of Cardinal Hill, when he took out his phone showing a screenshot of Jeanie’s birthday wishes to Phoebe, and slid it over to her.

“Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to find out this way?” He asked, and Phoebe immediately felt guilt wash over her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just…my birthday isn’t a big deal to me, and uh, we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months so..” She tried to explain, and Spencer had the audacity to scoff in her face.

“No, I get it Phoebe. You don’t think I’m important enough. God, to think what amazing plans you must have canceled out on to slum it with me.” He shook his head. “I bet your friends will think I’m such an asshole for not getting you a gift. For not even saying it to you!” 

“They won’t think that, they know I’m…look, it’s just a day.” She tried to reason, heart palpitating at the idea of upsetting him further. “I…I can make it up to you. We can go for dinner, or…do something tomorrow, maybe?” 

He looked at her with utter contempt, shaking his head. “I think I should just drop you off home.” And that’s what he did, the car ride silent, Phoebe feeling like a monster for not disclosing her birthday to him. Her mom had set up more balloons since that morning, and even got Phoebe a cake from Walmart, and she held back tears the entire night.

When she woke up the next morning, she had a text from Spencer inviting her over. She tentatively did, scared things would end before they even really began, being met instead with a large balloon arch, the biggest cake she ever seen, and a small pile of gifts. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday, I was just upset you felt like you had to keep it from me. I was worried you thought I was someone who’d feel…inconvenienced or something.” He said, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’m never not going to make you feel like your birthday isn’t a big deal ever again…”

If only she knew what the next four years of birthdays would bring.

Her morning flew by quickly, though she was tense to leave on the off-chance Foster dropped by. But she left it for as long as she did to go for her pre-made plans she couldn’t exactly cancel, returning home with a couple of hours to spare in getting ready for whatever Jeanie had planned for her. 

Whatever it was, she could handle it. She was still a living, breathing person after what Elijah had gifted to her, and she knew the excitement would sink in after the shock and the exhaustion of her birthday was past her. 

Still, she came home, sorting through her closet to find something suitable, eyes falling on the gift box. Nine whole months it had been shoved in there, the vaguely festive wrapping paper collecting dust. Phoebe had strategically hidden it behind Foster’s stuff when he had first moved in, but without his pants and coats hung up, it was there hiding in plain sight, staring at her in the face.

She pulled it out and placed it on the bed, tearing it open and lifting the box flaps, letting out a soft gasp at what was inside.

2004. Phoebe’s 10th birthday.

“Mommy, mommy! Look!” When her mom had asked Phoebe what she wanted to do today, letting her skip school to celebrate her birthday, all the little girl wanted to was spend time with her mom. Lisa opted to take them to Chicago for the day, letting Phoebe into boutiques, music stores, and even had plans to visit one of the museums after lunch.

They were currently in a small second-hand bookstore, and Phoebe stared hungrily at what was on offer on the small, rickety shelves. The kindly old man was patient with all of her questions, and she had stumbled upon the best thing she had even seen.

A three-piece collection of Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, and Peter Pan.

“Oh, they’re a bit young for you, aren’t you?” Lisa questioned with a patient smile, as Phoebe held up the books. “Like, baby, you have an advanced reading level — your teacher even said — you don’t wanna waste time with children’s books.”

“But mom, look at them. They’re like really special.” Phoebe defended, her big brown eyes watering. Lisa, to her credit, did take the box holding the books in her hands, studying each angle, eyes landing on the price tag.

“I’m sorry, Bee. I would, but they’re just…so expensive. For books! C’mon, I can get you a pretty new birthday dress next door for the same price.” They thanked the man for his time, and Phoebe hesitantly put the set down, and no matter how many times she returned to that store over the years  — to any second hand store in the greater Illinois area — Phoebe was convinced she had lost those books forever.

There, staring at her in the box, was the exact same collection set she had stumbled upon twenty years ago. All three stories of a little girl going to a magical land, all three stories about her somehow, some way finding her way home again.

There was no note, no clever sentence tying Oz, Wonderland or Neverland into Blue Harbor or what Phoebe sacrificed in her last thirty years. She didn’t know if it was an apology, or somehow Lisa proving that no matter what, she did care and listen to what her daughter wanted. All Phoebe could do was leave the books on her bed as she got ready.

She didn’t cry, not even when she accidentally jabbed her mascara brush in her eye. Just plastered on her best ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this but thank you anyway’ smile, and decided, that maybe once, celebrating her birthday didn’t have to be such a fucking hardship.

[homoquartz]

horror movie birth/rebirth was a touching story of lesbian motherhood tbqh

[searenbound]

Softer but kinda sad Dabi thought.

Quirkless single father au where he left street life behind because someone had to take care of his daughter. He never saw himself being a father, didn’t even think he wanted kids, but her mother passed from complications during birth and now all they have is each other.

Now, how the hell do you be a good father when yours was a pice of shit and the one of the only good thing about you passed trying to give your second good thing about you?

Maybe you, his nice new neighbor can be his new good. Well, maybe give it some years for him to grieve and get his shit together first.

[thelyghtofdayone]

tags everyone needs to see (thank you @aprillikesthings)

giving birth sucks tbh. not only do you and the baby you’re birthing almost die, usually you shit yourself and often you tear your taint. then you have to push an organ out of your body (placenta) and if even a little of that remains in your body, you can hemorrhage to death or develop an infection that essentially rots your body from the inside out. even if you had a relatively “easy birth”, you bleed for weeks on end. even after that stops, your body and brain is changed for the rest of your life, the pregnancy leeched minerals from your bones, that can cause osteoporosis later. minor urinary incontinence is not uncommon, brain scans of people who gave birth show permanent changes in their brain, you’re never quite the same.

I say all of this not to say giving birth is disgusting but it is a harrowing and visceral experience. society downplays how fucking awful it is and makes it out to be a ~magical~ experience but it isn’t a magical transformative experience for everyone. it can be an extremely traumatic experience for someone who wanted to carry a pregnancy to term, much more so for someone who did not want to be pregnant in the first place or someone who knows their baby won’t survive the birth. anyway, abortion is a right. pregnancy and birth aren’t just inconvenient, it’s fucking awful.

[benjaminxjackson]

starter for @mitchelljackson

Ben had been trying so hard to hold it together. For once he was happy, he had gotten over the fear of being a dad and he was really excited. He had always wanted to be a dad and he never thought this day was going to come at all but now he felt like his whole life was falling apart once again. The chef questioned if he deserved to be happy, he thought that the universe had forgiven him and for once, just once he would get something but he was questioning all that. Erik had been born early and was in the NICU and he was scared that he would lose his child. Ben had spent a lot of the time in the hospital, talking to doctors and everything despite hating hospital. A part of him had not given up. He was not aware that his brother had come to check on him. He just sat and speak to himself.

"I can't do this again....I can't handle this. Please for once..." he whispered his voice breaking.

[thelyghtofdayone]

if i ever do meet god I’m gonna look him dead in the eyes, put on the bene gesserit voice and say MAKE CHILDBIRTH QUICK EASY AND PAINLESS. you’re telling me some lady ate one apple three whole damn millenniums ago and so everyone who’s ever been pregananant has had to suffer because he couldn’t let that shit go? pfft. some god

[vermillion-bloodmoon]

(Mechanic!Soliel AU) Bea And Her/Their Baby Brother, Solar

WARNING: SOME INFO MAY BE TRIGGERING UNDER THE CUT AS THERE IS PARALLELS TO HUMAN PREGNANCIES AND COMPLICATIONS MENTIONED

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mechanic!Soliel AU is a branch of the TSAMS Continuity-verse and is a combination of a role swap and a Baby Solar AU, along with some other elements sprinkled in.

Mechanic!Soliel, who goes by Bea like in the nickname "SunnyBeam", is placed in Solar's role as the family mechanic and the one who suffered at the hands of Moonrise a.k.a. Solar's Original Moon/New Moon in this universe.

The reason Solar's a baby is because instead of Moonrise leaving his Killcode behind in Sunset(Solar's Original Sun), it was a quote "inner child" coding. Moonrise didn't even check which code he left behind until Sunset brought to his attention that she/they found out there was a literal baby AI in their body.

It should be noted Bea was created by Sunset because Sunset wanted a child, so she made Bea in their free time.

Anyway, even though Sunset was rightfully angry at Moonrise for leaving behind a baby AI coding in her, they still got attached to the baby AI coding that would soon become Solar. Since Sunset's fem in this universe, I had the whole idea that since the Creator's a flaming asshole, he decided it would be a great idea to outfit Sunset(and Moonrise initially since he still shared a body with Sunset at that point) with the ability to pretty much have animatronic babies and give them bodies via eating scrap metal. Though he obviously didn't give them the right build to actually hold the child once it was completed since he was rushed to complete Sunset and Moonrise by Fazbear still.

The unfortunate consequences of this though was that once Sunset finished internally building Solar in their body and once Solar's AI was secured inside of it, Sunset had started rapidly degrading in their health. Sunset had made the choice to trust Bea with performing the animatronic equivalent of a c-section on her. Bea had begged and tried to find another way, but Sunset had told them that they'd rather Solar get to live than die along with her.

Bea had reluctantly gone through with it after Sunset gave her a forehead kiss and said that they'd always love her, even if they died during it all. Unfortunately, Sunset would pass during/a little bit after the c-section was performed, which left Bea with immense amounts of grief and guilt. Bea still took care of Solar the best she could, even after Moonrise found out about Sunset's passing and what happened fully. He would go on to blame and abuse Bea for it and even if he tried blaming Solar or going after Solar, Bea would always fight against him, even if it ended in a cracked ray or two.

Bea would go through the motions of meeting Lunar pre-being blown up by Eclipse, who would definitely be confused about Solar being a baby, especially since Moon told him that Bea's dimension was one that harbored a Nice Eclipse. In reality it's just a tiny baby Solar who was called Solar since the beginning.

Times and events pass and eventually Bea makes her home in the main dimension of this AU with Solar strapped to her back.

A bunch of other main events happen, though Bea's the one to meet Jigsaw(Ruin) initially instead of Atlas(New Moon at the time) and somehow ends up on cordial terms with them despite them still running off to who knows where.

Meanwhile back in Bea's old dimension, Moonrise found a hidden copy of Sunset's memories. Moonrise then decided they would pull a Canon Ruin and bring Sunset back via designing and building a body for the memories to occupy.

After this, Moonrise stupidly decides to add a sliver of his KillCode into this new Sunset so that they would still be related in some way.

Once the new Sunset wakes up, they're greeted by Moonrise standing over them. They ask where Bea and Solar are, with Moonrise going silent before telling the new Sunset that Bea and Solar went missing.

For awhile the new Sunset believes Moonrise on them just going missing, but then it reaches her through word of mouth thanks to Monty that Bea ran away with Solar because she was afraid Moonrise was gonna go too far when hurting her and kill them, leaving Solar defenseless. The new Sunset still has maternal feelings towards Bea and Solar despite being their own person and still considers Bea and Solar her children as well....

So with that in mind, the new Sunset, thanks to the KillCode inside of her heightening her rage and murderous revenge thoughts, went through with slaughtering Moonrise. This is when the new Sunset decided to go by a new name, that being SunBurn.

SunBurn managed to get into Moonrise's computer and finds out where Bea and Solar ended up, so she decides to go off to the main dimension. It should be noted they forgot to rinse themself off, so they were still covered in Moonrise's oil.

When she arrived, they were greeted by the sight of Bea at the computer with Solar playing with Dazzle nearby. Bea was immediately defensive until SunBurn spoke up. I'm gonna put the exchange below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SunBurn: SunnyBeam, Solar, I missed you so much!

Bea: ...M-Mom? You're....

SunBurn: Alive? Well...sort of. I have all the memories, I still have those maternal feelings for you and Solar...I still see you as my children, and you always will be....

Bea: approaches SunBurn I-I just can't believe you're...w-who's oil is that?

SunBurn: Oh...right, I forgot to wash myself off, haha! Let's just say Moonie won't try and hurt you ever again!

Bea: ...Y-You....y-you killed him...?

SunBurn: It was to protect you and Solar both! When I learned what he'd been doing that had caused you to run away with Solar, I just knew I couldn't risk him deciding to go after you to kill you for running away from him! I promise I would never hurt you or Solar, I only wish to protect you both!

Bea: I-I....y-you were never the type to...kill someone, Mom...

SunBurn: Well....Moonie put a sliver of his KillCode inside of me, so now I have violent urges when I'm feeling protective and angry over you getting hurt, from what I understand of it.

Bea: ....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So Bea's understandably freaked out while Solar latches onto SunBurn, managing to recognize her as his Mama. Bea has to get used to SunBurn's urge to murder to protect her and Solar, and it does take awhile until it happens. Eventually she's able to call SunBurn their mom with a more genuine tone rather than an unsure tone of voice.

Oh and about Jigsaw(Ruin), he's still busted up in this AU and gets together with SunBurn. Tall murder lady x Ugly little british twink /aff because why not add it lmao.

[thestressedsimmer]

Elizabeth was cared for by the royal midwives, as befitting the wife of a prince. She got along fairly well with the women - some had even picked up the dialect of Simlish used in Henford-on-Bagley; probably from the queen before her passing.

It was nice to speak in her native language to somebody. Sure, it was technically Simlish in both kingdoms, but Willow Creekian Simlish was odd. Almost fancier in nature.

It didn't take long for Elizabeth to realize that something wasn't quite right. She brought her concerns to Mae, her midwife, and urged her to check her. It might be her first labor, but she had heard stories from her mother and sister. It wasn't supposed to randomly stall like it was doing for her now.

Mae confirmed that the babies weren't moving. But reassured Elizabeth that it isn't the first time she's seen such a thing and it happens often with twins.

"They say that each twin is fighting to get out so it ends with them pushing each other back." The elder woman said with a chuckle. "I personally say that it doesn't matter why. It just matters that it happens. Don't worry, Your Grace, all we've gotta do is get you moving."

Elizabeth was comforted by the woman's confidence. While she might be completely inexperienced in this, at least the ladies around her understand what's happening.

[iammissingautumn]

thinking about me. age 16 terrified my mama was gonna come down and see the pillow fort i built in half of my room. and when she did come down and see it (i had a glass door) she was cross and said i had to take it down soon and i had to pretend that was the plan i had anyways and then her pulling out my bean bag and having me sit at the entrance of my fort and she talked and talked to me about how my baby brother (maybe 8 years old) and my sibling (also 16) were fighting with her and yelling at her about how they hated her. and i had to sit there and sympathize with her and how terribly she treats us. sitting there as if i didn’t know every reason they hated her. going “well there has to be A reason that they dislike what you did” and her laying there like it’s therapy as i picture every moment i set up so perfectly so that she wouldn’t talk to me or have the chance to see my true feelings

[zaldritzosrose]

The Strength of the Wolf (Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader)

Another milestone request from my darling @thenameswinter99, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Summary: No one could argue that Cregan Stark was not an attentive husband. Anything you could ask for while you carried his child, you would get it. Though even the Lord of Winterfell couldn't make a maester listen at times. But a mother knew best, and you knew something wasn't quite right. And Cregan planned to support you in every step.

TW: MINORS DNI/18+ only, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, mentions of childbirth, descriptions of childbirth, mentions of complications, angst, fluff, Cregan being the realm's best husband.

Words: 2820

So many had told you that a second pregnancy would be easier than your first. But as you now waddled down the path to birthing said second child, you would argue such assertions were far from the truth.

Thankfully, your husband was more attentive than anyone should imagine a husband to be. Cregan both worshipped you for carrying his children and treated you as though you were the most precious and fragile of treasures.

There was little he wouldn’t do to make you more comfortable and happier, and there were few who would deny the Lord of Winterfell. Even something you thought trivial, like a treat you craved or something you had said in passing, it would appear before you with barely a word.

And if you asked, Cregan would simply smile and say he was only doing as ‘the pup’ asked.

But the last moon of your pregnancy was truly taking its toll, both on your body and your mind. You were sure there was not a bit of you that didn’t swell or ache. You were exhausted, yet sleep would never come when you needed it most.

Your comforts were Cregan and the occasional tumbles and kicks of the babe in your belly.

Your firstborn, a daughter, was as attentive as her father. As much as she could be at only three years of age. She would sing to the baby, who she had happily deemed her little brother. Tell him stories, about all the things she would teach him when he was born.

At the start, you had been able to keep up with her. But now, you spent more and more time in your bed. The maester would visit every few days, assuring you that a little fatigue and achiness was absolutely normal.

But you knew, you just knew that something wasn’t as it should be. It was like an instinct, and you just wanted someone to listen.

Cregan was out with some of his lords, preparing for a visit to the Wall. Not that he had any intention to go before the babe was born. Your husband had listened patiently to every concern you’d had about the pregnancy. Even trying to force the maester’s hand when he could see it all getting too much for you.

But when the maester could find nothing amiss, there was little more even Cregan could do. Though it frustrated him to no end that he could do little more than comfort you. Despite your reassurances that you expected nothing else of him.

The meeting was beginning to draw to a close, when to his surprise he saw you walking with your daughter.

“My love, you should be in bed?” Cregan called out, hastily dismissing his lords and beckoning you over.

Your daughter made it to him first, running at her father and all but throwing herself into his arms.

“Maester said it would be good to move around a little,”

Your voice didn’t sound entirely convinced, however. Cregan knew you well enough to know how you felt with a single look.

“Yet only a few days passed he was telling you remain abed…” The Stark lord sighed.

How were you supposed to manage your struggles during this pregnancy if the advice made less sense at every turn. Your daughter however, wasn’t afraid to let her feelings known.

“Mama sore,” she huffed, doing her best to articulate what she wanted.

Cregan turned to you, his eyes boring into yours. Waiting for you to agree or disagree. But when you averted his gaze, moving to sit in a nearby chair. And he could see in the small frown on your face and the wince you tried to hide as you attempted to get comfortable.

“Wife?” he grumbled out, moving closer to you before turning to his daughter.

If he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, he knew he would get them from your little she-wolf. He knelt down beside her, leaning in close.

“How sore is mama, little one?” he asked, ignoring your look to your daughter, hoping she would side with you.

But there was no doubt, she was her father’s girl.

“She had to sit lots,” your daughter explained, and you resigned yourself to having your secret revealed.

“Lots? How much, sweetling?” Cregan asked gently.

He needed to know the truth, not just for the sake of the babe in your belly, but for you. He reached out for your hand, remaining knelt by your daughter.

Your daughter paused, and you knew it would be easier if you just told him yourself.

“We only walked from our bedchamber to the hallway before I had to sit. And then again before we reached the library and…”

Cregan listened as you explained. Between his study and your shared bedchamber, the walk wasn’t all that long. But it seemed it had taken its toll on your body.

“My love,” Cregan soothed, stroking the back of your hand.

It was then that the truth of just how badly you were feeling came to light. You had known that morning that something wasn’t quite right. You weren’t from birth according to the maester, but there was something about how he had said it that put you on edge.

“I just…I know something isn’t right. But the maester said nothing, so maybe I am wrong?”

You let go of his hand, burying your face into your own hands. What if you were wrong? What if is all in your head? No, no you knew something was not right.

And Cregan could see how much you were struggling. He had seen the women of his family pregnant enough times to know a mother knew her body better than anyone else.

“Now listen, it is your body. You will know before anyone else if something is amiss,” he soothed, his tone gentle but firm.

He stood, taking your hand again and signalling for a servant to summon the maester.

“And we will sit together with the maester and ensure he understands that.”

Cregan stood at your bedside, and you had to keep reminding him not to glare at the maester. It wasn’t entirely the maester’s fault. He was reporting what he could see, as was his job.

“Tell the maester what you feel, my love,” Cregan urged, softening his gaze as he looked down at you.

You sighed, closing your eyes and organising your feelings.

“I just feel like something is wrong. I have no words for it, but the babe doesn’t feel as he usually does.”

The maester nodded and you saw the same flash of concern as you had seen that morning. His hands came to your stomach, moving around gently as he searched for an answer.

And his expression turned more and more concerned by the second.

“A midwife is needed, immediately, my lady,”

That was all he said before he rushed to call out into the hall. Cregan knelt at your side, his hand tightening around yours. Panic began to set in, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your rounded stomach.

“I knew it,” you mumbled and Cregan rested his forehead against your shoulder.

He should have been more insistent with the maester, demanded you be listened to. But the past was no longer changeable. All he could do now was remain at your side.

His lips planted a soft kiss to the sliver of exposed skin at your shoulder.

“We should have all listened, my love,” he whispered, kissing you once more as the midwife entered.

The maester opened his mouth to speak, his attention directed at Cregan.

“My lord, you have no need to stay if y-“

But the stern look Cregan offered him halted any more words.

“I go nowhere,” he snapped and the maester quickly turned his attentions back to you as the midwife took her chance to feel around your stomach.

The midwife was an older, sweet woman. Her mere presence brought a sudden wash of comfort over you.

“Well, my lady, it appears your pup has decided he’s coming early.”

Your eyes went wide. She seemed calm, so maybe that was a good thing? But the maester had looked concerned…

“Early? Is that good or…?”

The midwife signalled for her assistants to begin preparing the room for the birth.

“We will make it good, my lady,” she assured, placing her hand over your own that rested on your belly.

She began to explain everything, in the gentlest way possible. While your baby was not in the best of positions, birth was not going to be impossible. More strenuous, maybe. More painful, absolutely. But nothing that, in her words, you couldn’t handle.

The pains you had felt, that was your body telling you that the baby was ready. But you had been so intent on listening to the maester’s advice and your body had been sore for so much of this pregnancy, you hadn’t considered your labours might have started.

The others in the room seemed to flurry around you. Linens, dishes of steaming water and what you could smell as poppy milk. It was happening, whether you liked it or not.

“How did I not see it…feel it even?” you asked, every fibre of your body descending into a mixture of fear and stress.

The midwife placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Concern yourself not with what could have been, my lady, but what is happening now.”

It was as if the focus being placed said pain had begun to bring it all forth into your attention. Your face scrunched as the first waves of pain began to thrum in your body. You reminded yourself quickly, that you had done this once before. The midwife was confident, and you had every faith in her advice.

Cregan lifted your hand and placed it in his. It wasn’t customary for a husband to remain as his wife gave birth, but he had no intentions of leaving you now.

His lips pressed against the back of your hand, feather light kisses. He needed to be strong, despite the maelstrom of emotions inside him. He’d never known the midwife to be wrong, and he had to believe she wouldn’t be wrong now.

You squeezed his hand tight as a harsher wave of pain washed over you, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You were trying to be strong, Cregan could see it. But this was one of few times where being proper no longer mattered.

“For the strength of the pack is the wolf,” Cregan whispered against your hand, holding it against his lips for a moment.

With a soft, strained voice you answered. “And the strength of the wolf is the pack.”

The midwife and her assistants rallied around you as your words dissolved into a prolonged groan of pain. Urging you to begin pushing once the layers of obstructing clothing were stripped from you.

Everything was a blur, but you could hear Cregan’s voice, the midwife’s voice. All telling you how brilliantly you were doing.

But it hurt, it hurt so much.

Just like before, you knew something was wrong.

“I cannot…it hurts. Not like it should…” you groaned out, squeezing Cregan’s hand tight enough that he was impressed that you made him wince.

Unlike the maester, the midwife listened.

“Wrong how, my lady? A mother knows, so tell us!” she urged, positioning herself back in front of your body.

Through pained groans and cries, you tried to explain.

“He’s not moving…not when I push…”

How were you supposed to explain it? But it wasn’t like when you birthed your daughter. You had been able to feel every movement she made as you’d pushed her from you. Not this time. You were pushing but he didn’t feel like he was moving.

Thankfully, the midwife understood. Years of experience gave her all the inference she needed.

“I understand, my lady, and we will fix it.”

The assistant at your side told you to stop pushing, to wait until the midwife to tell you to continue. The pains lingered, but you took deep breaths as you held your eyes closed.

The pain was hard to ignore, but you tried. Cregan whispering assurances in your ear to distract you, telling you how amazing you were, how he loved you more than anything.

You stiffened a little as you felt the intrusion. But the assistant hurried to explain what was happening.

“If the babe isn’t moving forward, my lady, the midwife will need to take hold of him and help him along.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the midwife’s hands on your body. For a while there was discomfort, pain.

Then you were urged to push. And push you did.

You put every ounce of strength you had behind it. Digging your nails into Cregan’s palm as you screeched out in agony. But you were met with calls of encouragement once more.

“That’s it, my lady! A few more good, strong pushes!” the midwife urged, and you did as she instructed.

It was such a strange feeling. Where there was once pressure and pain, there was sudden relief. But your relief was short lived when you didn’t hear a cry from the baby.

You wanted to say something, but exhaustion took you. Eyes fluttering closed as no more than a meek sigh left your lips.

You didn’t see it, but Cregan dived into action as did the midwife and her assistants. Two took the babe, cleaning him down and working to get him happy and breathing as he should be.

Cregan listened to the midwife, who asked him to hold you up as she stripped the bloodied sheets from beneath you. He lifted you with ease, waiting for whatever the midwife needed of him next. In this moment he wasn’t a Lord, he wasn’t Warden of the North. He was simply a worried husband and father.

“She’s alive, my lord, good and breathing,” the midwife assured him, ordering another of her assistants to bring some barely warm water.

“She’s exhausted, as she’s right to be. But I promise you, she will be fine.”

Your skin was flushed, sweating. You were on the brink of feverish. But you were lucky to have the midwife you did. In her words – after the birth of your daughter three years passed – she had seen enough to not let anything surprise her.

She held the tepid cloth to your skin. Over your forehead, over your cheeks and the skin of your chest and neck. Your breathing was shallow, but you were breathing. And she could feel the steady thrum of your pulse beneath your neck.

You were going to be fine, as was your son.

It felt like an eternity for Cregan. Your newly born son had soon let out a cry that signalled he was more than well enough. The new Stark heir was swaddled in a warm blanket and placed in a crib that stood at Cregan’s feet as he sat at your bedside.

Your almost fever had subsided, but your skin remained flushed, and your eyes closed. The midwife assured Cregan that all you now needed was sleep.

It was simply a waiting game now. He kept a hand on the side of the crib, his other entwined with yours.

Soon, as he silently prayed to the gods, your eyes fluttered open.

“Cregan?”

Your voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it, but then you squeezed his hand with whatever strength you had.

The servants had cleaned the room up, the midwife even staying to help change you into a clean nightgown. Cregan reminded himself quickly that he needed to do something to show his appreciation of her.

“Yes, love, I’m here. We’re here.” He assured, leaning down to lift your son for you to see.

A soft smile graced your lips. Your boy. A new little pup to add to your pack.

“Where is Lyanna? We’re going to have tell her she was right about the baby being a boy,” you laughed, though your eyes never left your son.

Cregan smiled, holding the little boy out for you to take.

“She’ll come by later, my love. Though she’s already tried to sneak in once while you slept,” he answered, gesturing to the wildflowers at your bedside.

“The flowers are from her.”

You sunk back into your pillows as your baby boy rested in your arms. Cregan shifted closer, his eyes warm as he watched you both. You cooed at the baby gently, stroking the soft, brown hair on his head.

The room drifted into a gentle quiet, outside of the little boy’s gurgles and coos back at you.

Everything was right again, Cregan thought to himself. You were well, his son was strong. His pack was growing, and he couldn’t be happier.

And he reminded himself of one more thing.

Never to underestimate you.

Cregan Taglist: (if you want to be added/deleted let me know)

@thenameswinter99 @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

@alexagirlie @anjelicawrites @targaryen-dynasty

@multyfangirl @asa-do-your-thing

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tears V

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: Your birth comes with a lot of complications

TW: *birth complications, premature birth*

It's kind of difficult to do a lot of things with a baby bump.

Alexia hadn't ever thought of it like that before.

Her back aches as she wakes up. Her ankles have swelled. She's craving weird things and waking up in the middle of the night, ready to call her Mami and get her to go to the shop to pick up whatever Alexia feels like she needs.

It had been a difficult choice to make, to put her career on pause to have a baby.

The idea had come out of nowhere, an errant thought that just grew bigger and bigger out of nowhere until it was all Alexia could think about.

A baby.

A little baby.

That's what Alexia focused on now as her eyes flutter open and she rolls over in bed.

For a moment, all is calm and Alexia can listen to the soft chirping of the birds.

In the next moment though, she muffles a scream with her fist.

There's pain in her lower belly and blood all over her sheets.

It's a bit of a blur after that.

There's definitely a call to someone. An ambulance as well but Alexia can barely tell what happened first or even how long it took to get there.

She's in and out, in a lot of pain but completely unaware of what's going on around her.

There's a pressure of a hand in her own as she finally comes to, eyes fluttering open but there's no birds to greet her this time.

Just the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the soft noise of a tv playing.

"Ma-Mami? What...What's going on?"

Eli pushes the hair out of Alexia's face, lips pursed as she pulls her chair closer.

"Ale, sweetheart..."

Alexia looks around, taking in surroundings. She's definitely in a hospital, that much is clear but her head is still fuzzy and not quite fully there.

"Mami, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

There's a panel of glass between you both as Alexia stares.

She's been put in a wheelchair and her doctor insists that she stays there.

It's too soon for her to be walking around and using her stomach muscles to get up.

Too soon after her surgery.

Her uterus ruptured. That's what Alexia was told. That's why she woke up that day with pain and a pool of blood in her bed. Her uterus ruptured and you were in danger.

The words didn't have much of an impact on Alexia. She already felt numb, both physically and mentally.

She'd nearly killed you.

Her uterus ruptured and you didn't have oxygen for who knows how long.

Her uterus ruptured while she was sleeping and you'd had no oxygen for maybe hours on end.

It didn't matter what the doctors told her, that was all Alexia could think of.

You and the lack of oxygen in your small, tiny brain.

You were already a small baby. The doctors present at your scans had talked about it before.

You didn't grow very quickly, on the small end of what you should be.

There had already been cause of concern because of it but now, as Alexia stares through the pane of glass between you both, it's all she can think about.

You're tiny, hooked up to machines and wires and you, somehow, look smaller than all the other premature babies in the NICU.

"I..."

"She's beautiful, Ale," Eli says," So, so beautiful."

"She's sick," Alexia chokes out," Mami, I let her get sick."

"No, Ale," Eli tries to sooth her," No. She's going to be okay. This isn't anything to do with you."

"But it is." The tears are coming now. Alexia hasn't cried since everything happened, hasn't felt anything at all until this moment as she watches you in your incubator.

You don't even have a name yet.

The little identification tag on your incubator just calls you 'The Putellas Baby'.

You don't have a name and you could easily just die in here.

With no name.

"It's all my fault," Alexia says as tears drip down her cheeks onto the clenched fists in her lap," Mami, she's going to die."

There's already a nursery set up for you at home with walls a very soft light purple colour. A little crib with a pastel pink blankie to swaddle you in and a little mobile to sit above you with cute doves that are meant to chirp and sing above your head.

There's a little Barcelona onesie waiting and ready for when Alexia presents you at Barcelona's next home match.

That was meant to be the plan.

A plan that's crashing down as Alexia stares at your struggling form in the incubator in front of her.

"No, no, Ale," Eli says," She's a strong girl, just like her Mami. She's going to be just fine."

It takes ten days after your birth for Alexia to touch you.

Her hands are shaking. Her heart rate is heightened.

"Alright, Mami," The midwife says," We're going to give this little one some kangaroo care. A bit of skin-on-skin should help, alright?"

Alexia's throat bobs uneasily as she swallows. "Yeah, alright."

You seem even tinier in person. You barely weigh anything at all, like a little sheet of paper as you're placed on Alexia's chest.

For a moment, your little face scrunches up in distaste and Alexia freezes.

But you settle a second later and Alexia can feel your soft puff of air against her collarbone.

You're absolutely tiny. Tiny and weak but alive.

Alive and breathing and wholly Alexia's daughter.

Her hand comes up to cup the back of your head, softly stroking the downy hair that's grown there.

"Hola, pequeñita," She whispers as tears threaten to spill from your eyes," I'm your Mami. It's nice to finally meet you."

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

WHITE INTIMACY 🍼 KUCHIKI BYAKUYA X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 12: LACTATION

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. day 12 with Aizen or Byakuya with fem reader? <3 ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. you can tell when I'm deeply in love with a character because I write him with purity and love... so yes, this is the case. Husband and wife sharing a sweet moment with their baby that leads to them trying a new "kink" after they put the baby to sleep on their room. Again, the baby sleeps in a different room. please, never EVER have sex close to your kids, it doesn't matter if they are "babies". it is still a form of abuse. Thanks. 🐙 wc: 1,3k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

To the past, those days in which Byakuya felt alone, belong. It was difficult for him, for his heart to finally open. He still remembers that dream with Hisana; she told him “please, be happy”.

And so, he did… 

The cries of his first born keep him and his wife, you, woke up. Tired, almost asleep, both drag to the baby’s crib. 

“What, little sakura bud?” you ask, holding him in arms. “Daddy needs to sleep. Daddy’s a captain, baby…” you whisper, rocking your body to lull the bundle of joy to sleep… yet, nothing, not even your scent and profound maternal love, could calm (him/her) down…  

Byakuya’s hands surround your waist from behind; he is asleep as you are. His hair’s a mess. His eyes barely opened.

“Is he/she ok? Something’s hurting? No fever, right?” Byakuya asks; he is and will always be extremely afraid of you or his baby being sick. 

“Probably just hungry. Go back to sleep, love. I’ll feed him/her” 

But he is not just a man; Byakuya is a gentleman. And despite not being able to bare nor give birth to his son/daughter, he will be next to you no matter what. How could he sleep knowing you aren’t? 

“Come on… let’s get comfortable” he commands, kissing your head and grazing his baby’s crying face. 

You walk -drag your body- to the bed and wait for Byakuya to sit with his back against the headrest. Then, you sit in between his legs, with your back against his chest. 

Byakuya’s soft hands hug you while he waits for you to prepare yourself to feed your child. Soon, the cries stop, as nurturing begins. 

Sleepiness still remains, but the moment that soon will turn to a memory… none of you would have chosen to let exhaustion take it away from you.

You look at him when your child is finally fast asleep; a soft smile, a silent complicity between the love of your life and you. 

He smiles back; a smile nobody is used to seeing but you and now the little “consequence” of your love.  

“You know, sometimes I’m jealous of him/her” Byakuya jokes; yet behind a joke there is always a little bit of truth. 

“Mhhj…” you giggle low. 

“Don’t laugh… It used to be me…” he continues, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Let me put him on his bed and I’ll feed you as well. There is no point in me going back to sleep, it’s almost morning” you joke, even though Byakuya took it pretty seriously… 

He helps you with utmost care and delicacy not to wake the baby up to stand up. You blow a kiss his way before dragging back to the baby’s nursery -a couple of steps from your room, but still outside it-. 

As you walk back, you notice him pretty much awake… in more than one way. 

“Still awake?” you ask, ignoring his very noticeable hardness through the fine silk of his sleeping yukata. 

“Well yes, didn’t you tell me you were gonna feed me?” he asks, leaving you startled. Suddenly, sleepiness eased as fast as his did. 

You open your mouth and close it back. You were about to laugh; but was him being funny or was that for real? 

Indeed, Byakuya rarely jokes… and that sounded absolutely serious. 

“You- you really want to- uh- this?” you ask, pointing at your -very- swollen breasts. If there was something that wasn’t hard for you, was to produce enough and even more nourishment for your offspring. 

“Well, considering is pretty common in our culture…” he tries to convince you. 

You giggle; there was no need for you to be convinced. You would give him anything he could asked for, after all. 

“Then, my sweet big baby… feast on it” you whisper, getting into bed right next to his horny self. 

Byakuya and you giggle sweetly, both covering your whole bodies with your silk sheets. Enough has happened in between the both of you for shame and formalities. 

It is Byakuya who willingly gets comfortable on your legs; his back on your lap, while your fingers brush through his beautiful hair back. 

Lust and intimacy have transcended; his skilful hands free your breasts from your nightgown. The sakura man enjoys the effects of gravity on them, as they heavily fall close to his lips. 

“I wonder if it’s as sweet as your core” he purrs. 

Your insides become a mess; tensing muscles on your womanhood, oh the gracious changes of your body he adores… he praises… what a blessing is to have a man like him to venerate you. 

You help him reach your nipple; it gets hard, and it begins to drip. And you suddenly understand the difference, nurturing your child has nothing to do with this; two different types of bonding, you are so willing to enjoy. 

Byakuya sticks his tongue out, allowing the very few drops of semi white elixir to fall on it. He takes some time to enjoy the taste, like a fine wine, like a delicatessen a noble deserves. 

“More” he demands.

You smile pleased; impulsive shameless and whimsical Byakuya only comes out when he is either truly free or unable to control himself; and right now, he is both. 

Your hand passes under his nape, lifting, with so much expertise, his head for his lips to finally trap your nipple. 

A little clumsy, he first tries nibbling on it, making you jolt. It hurts, but it feels so good. Yet, it is definitely not enough to start the flow of motherly product happening. 

“Suck; try pressing your tongue against your palate as you suck” you guide him; it is much easier to explain this to an adult it kinda makes you giggle. 

“Uhhumh” he hums, taking notes of your instructions. And with a couple of tries, he finally manages to make it happen. 

“Good boy” you compliment him; for the first time, you discover the joy of being the one in charge, of being the dominant one. 

Deep blue eyes open big, fixing on yours. They both show a certain amount of shame… because your “mommy” attitude has made him harder than ever before. It feels to Byakuya both incredibly hot but also degrading… and that, at the same time, becomes feedback for more and more lust. 

His hips, on his own, buck up ever so slightly. Yet, enough for you to notice.  Ah, he needs relief… 

 You use one of your hands to guide your right breast more and more into his mouth, as he sucks harder. While your left hand slowly slides from his belly to his sex. 

Byakuya spasms violently when your palm reaches his already wet crotch area. You are not surprised; this man gets so hard sometimes that it kinda scares you he might explode at any moment. 

“Would you like mommy to help you with this?” you ask, amazed by those naughty words that make you even wetter. 

“ngh… mhg… yes-“ he barely words, with his mouth full of your milk, overflowing from the commissure of his lips. 

You bite your lower lip; if this isn’t the epitome of arousal, you don’t know what it is. 

It takes nothing for his yukata to finally slide open, uncovering a hard manhood that has already impregnated you with all of his masculinity before. 

You begin to pump; jerking him off with no mercy, making him tremble, making him choke with the white liquid coming from you. 

A little bit more, he is close… so close. more, more, more.  Precum flowing from his gland as milk flows from your breasts. 

White sometimes associated with purity, is now being depicted as total concupiscence and erotism, in the middle of a night that slowly becomes a dawn. 

And like the Sun, unstoppably rising every morning, Byakuya’s climax hit his body like the strongest Bankai… 

Spasms that accompany every sprout of cum abandoning his body and into his belly; Spasms that you somehow experience as well, as all of the sucking and such imagery has made you incredibly hot to the point of also cuming. 

“Byakuya, love… save a little bit for your son/daughter, yes?” “Just a little bit more for breakfast, my love…” 

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[vigilante-3073]

Can you please write an imagine in which reader is pregnant with her and house’ kid and something happens and she collapses and gets sent home to bed rest. Perhaps house isn’t there initially, like maybe they work in different departments and he’s with a high priority case and Cuddy isn’t releasing him and then Wilson tells him what’s going on

Bedrest & Complicated Cases

Gregory House x Pregnant Female Doctor Reader

Summary: Y/N is six months pregnant and experiences a complication. House is dealing with a delicate case and Cuddy chooses not to inform him.

TW: Mentions of medical terms/conditions, lying, brief mention of politics/dictatorship.

Y/N worked on patient files quietly in her office after a long day of seeing patients. She shifted in her seat as an uncomfortable sensation began to appear in her stomach and lower back. Y/N took a breath, smoothing a hand over her bump as she waited for it to pass.

Braxton hicks contractions were common, especially as the pregnancy progressed but this felt different. The pain was constant, it felt like her muscles were being torn apart. Y/N stood up from her seat with a grimace, she moved around her desk with a hand on her belly.

Y/N paused, crying out in pain as blood began to soak into the material of her pants. Y/N's hand shot out to her desk, it landed on a pile of stacked files that slipped out from under her palm. Y/N fell, her head collided with the edge of the desk as she landed on the floor.

Y/N had lost consciousness and no one had any idea that she was injured. House was working on a complicated case, Cuddy was supervising him and Wilson was with his patients.

No one had any idea how long she had been on the floor when Wilson finally found her. Y/N was admitted right away and her obstetrician was notified.

Y/N had a partial placental abruption, she lost quite a bit of blood and was having contractions. They were able to get her on a drug called magnesium sulfate in an attempt to stop her labor.

The contractions began to slow, but there was still the potential for an early birth. Y/N was given a blood transfusion and corticosteroids to speed up the baby's lung development.

Wilson stayed by her side throughout everything, "Where is House?" Y/N asked softly. She was weak and exhausted with a possible concussion.

"He's on a case," Wilson said. A pit was beginning to form in his stomach as she looked over at him with a terrified expression.

"Does he know?" She asked.

"Not yet, no," Wilson replied.

Y/N looked down at her bump, hand settling on her skin as she took a shaky breath. Wilson watched her eyes begin to fill with tears as she struggled to keep herself from crying.

"I-I'll go get him," Wilson said, standing up from his seat beside her bed.

"Wait, I don't want to be alone," Y/N mumbled.

"Whatever you need," He nodded, sitting back down.

Wilson pulled out his phone and sent a message to Cuddy.

'She needs him.' He typed.

Cuddy's reply was almost instant, 'How bad is it?' She'd asked.

'Partial abruption, stage two. They were able to stop contractions but are monitoring the baby for distress. She's on magnesium sulfate and corticosteroids but she also needed a transfusion,' Wilson typed back.

'Stay with her. We need him on this case.' She replied, leaving no room for argument

Wilson grimaced before tucking his phone into his pocket, "What's wrong? Is he not coming?" Y/N questioned.

"He's held up with something," Wilson said.

Y/N nodded, fingers brushing lightly across her bump as she sniffled softly.

"I'm sorry," Wilson said.

"It's fine," Y/N said shakily, brushing away a tear with trembling hands.

Wilson couldn't stand to see her upset, the idea of keeping this information from House was eating him up inside. The case that House was dealing with was important, but the life of his wife and child should be more important.

The case was proving to be difficult for the team, their patient was President Dibala and he was an African dictator. Hundreds of thousands of people would lose their lives if he was cured and the ethical dilemma complicated things.

House was able to compartmentalize easily, but Cameron's strong opinions and moral compass made her one of the worst people to be treating the president. Chase tried to keep her in check, but she was struggling to maintain her objectivity.

The last thing Wilson heard was that there was an assassination attempt against Dibala. He could understand why Cuddy wanted House to stay on the case and remain focused, but it still made him uncomfortable.

Wilson stayed by Y/N's side until she eventually fell asleep and he was able to step away. Wilson went straight to House's office, he lingered by the door as they went through another differential.

House noticed him and dismissed his team members, they filed out of the conference room and made their way back to the patient's room.

"House, I need to talk to you," Wilson said.

"I'm in the middle of something, it can wait," House stated, staring at the whiteboard.

"No, it can't... It's Y/N," Wilson said.

House looked over at him, "What happened?" He questioned.

...

Y/N opened her eyes, grimacing as her head pounded under the harsh fluorescent lights. She closed her eyes, hoping that the throbbing in her temples would resolve itself.

"Where does it hurt?" Someone asked.

Y/N opened her eyes, looking over to find House sitting at her bedside. His eyes ran over her body before glancing up at the machines that were keeping track of her and the baby's vitals.

"My head," Y/N mumbled.

"You have a concussion. It's gonna hurt," House stated.

He stood up from his seat, grabbing his cane and moving over to the door. He shut off the lights in the room before returning to his chair.

"Where were you?" Y/N asked.

"Doesn't matter, I'm here now," He said.

Y/N settled back against the pillows, her hands rested on bump as she looked down at herself.

"Is she moving?" House asked, Y/N nodded.

"I was scared that I was going to lose her... The pain was terrible and there was so much blood," She said shakily.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, but she's okay and you're okay," House stated.

"The doctor put me on bedrest for the remainder of the pregnancy," Y/N said.

"I figured," He nodded.

"How are we going to do this, Greg?" Y/N questioned, already sounding defeated.

"We'll figure it out. I'll reduce my hours and we can hire someone to help around the house in the meantime," House said.

Y/N took a breath, "Don't worry," House stated.

"I'm not," Y/N replied.

"Your heart rate says otherwise," House said, glancing up at the vitals machine.

Y/N smiled slightly, "Well, I'm trying not to worry," She said.

House stayed by her side overnight, his case was overly complicated and resulted in the death of President Dibala. Cuddy was right to encourage House to maintain his focus on the case but it was an impossible situation.

The circumstances surrounding Dibala's death were murky, but House couldn't bring himself to care. It was true that the president was a bad person and his ideas would damage an entire population, but it was still a black mark on his record.

House's significant other and their child needed to take priority.

...

Y/N had been on bedrest for three weeks and she was absolutely miserable. She read every book she had intended to and watched all the trash television that she could stomach.

House did as he promised and limited his hours, during difficult cases he asked Wilson to check up on her. Wilson had been a vital part of their support system in the last few weeks.

Wilson helped them to assemble the furniture for the nursery and finish painting the walls. He cooked for Y/N when House wasn't able to and had just been an incredible help during this time.

Y/N was incredibly bored, but Wilson did everything he could to keep her spirits up. He knew that it must have been awful to be trapped in the house for such a long period of time.

He never came to their home empty-handed, he always brought snacks, gifts or flowers for Y/N. House appreciated his friend's kindness and let Wilson know that their door was always open to him.

House made his way into the apartment, tossing his keys into the dish and shrugging off his coat. House laid it over the back of the couch, pushing the door shut with his cane and making his way down the hallway to the bedroom.

Wilson sat in the chair beside the bed as Y/N sat with her back against the headboard. A laundry basket of various baby items sat on the bed beside her.

Y/N folded the items and set them in a stack on the bed next to her. Wilson folded the items in his own basket, gaze focused on the television.

"She did not sleep with his best friend, did she?" Wilson asked, not daring to pull his eyes away from the screen.

"Oh yeah, they've been sleeping together for at least two seasons in secret," Y/N said.

"No way. The cameras follow them everywhere, how could they find the time?" He questioned.

Y/N shrugged, "They stay up until four in the morning and sleep until two. They start every day with a pilates class and spend hours binge drinking while arguing. All they have is time," She said, folding a fluffy pink blanket.

"Sorry to interrupt your little watch party, but I'm home," House said.

"We're one episode away from the tell all, you have to let us finish the season," Wilson stated, folding up a baby onsie.

"My god, what happened to you?" House muttered, kicking off his shoes and laying down in the bed beside his wife.

"This is the best show to ever be invented," Wilson said, gesturing to the television.

"Sure it is. Wake up me up when it's over," House said, crossing his arms and settling back into the pillows as he closed his eyes.

Things had been complicated, but they were figuring it out and taking things one day at a time. The baby was growing and Y/N hadn't had any bleeding since that first incident.

She had a magnificent support system around her and she leaned on them in her time of need.

House may not have been everyone's favorite person, but Y/N was. She had always been kind and everyone who met her loved her.

It was shocking that he was the one she wound up falling in love with but you can't help it sometimes. House loved her and he was grateful that her and the baby were alright.