#dogs false pregnancy

[puppyexpressions]

Signs of False Pregnancy in Dogs

What Is False Pregnancy in Dogs?

False pregnancy in dogs is also called pseudopregnancy or pseudocyesis. This condition can occur in unspayed female dogs because of normal changes in hormone levels.

These hormone changes trick the body into thinking it is pregnant and about to give birth.

Symptoms of False Pregnancy in Dogs

False pregnancy in dogs causes the same behavioral and physical changes as a dog that is actually pregnant.

Behavioral Changes

The most common symptoms of phantom pregnancy in dogs are restlessness and nesting.

Your dog might bring blankets or other objects to their bed to create a nest, and may be reluctant to leave this area. They may also “mother” objects like toys, carrying them around, putting them in their nest, and protecting them.

False pregnancy in dogs can cause them to be anxious—and even reactive or defensive—if their nest or their “puppies” are disturbed or moved. Some dogs become so intense in these behaviors that they may not eat much.

Physical Changes

Physically, dogs that are experiencing a false pregnancy go through changes to prepare for puppies to be born.

Their mammary glands (breasts) and nipples enlarge evenly, and they may even produce some milk.

This swelling can be uncomfortable, so your dog might lick at the glands, causing irritation. Their bellies could even contract.

Rarely, dogs with false pregnancy can also develop increased thirst, which means they need to pee more often. Sometimes dogs with this condition can become hungrier than usual.

Causes of False Pregnancy in Dogs

False pregnancy in a dog is the result of a rapid decrease in the hormone progesterone and an increase in the hormone prolactin. These hormonal changes occur normally in an unspayed female dog about 6-8 weeks after she’s been in heat.

The same hormonal changes can also occur in a female dog who was spayed during a part of the heat cycle when she had high progesterone. The spay causes the same rapid progesterone decrease as the normal heat cycle, and this can result in a false pregnancy within 3-14 days of being spayed.

How Vets Diagnose False Pregnancy in Dogs

If your dog is showing signs of a false pregnancy, bring her to the vet.

If her symptoms, history, and physical exam findings all fit this condition and there’s no chance that your dog is actually pregnant, then a false pregnancy can be diagnosed by your vet without additional testing.

If there is a possibility your dog could be pregnant, then the vet will test her blood for levels of a hormone called relaxin to help determine if it’s a true pregnancy. An ultrasound or x-ray can also be used to see if she is carrying puppies.

There are other issues, some of them serious, that can cause similar symptoms. If there could be other causes for your dog’s symptoms besides a false pregnancy, your vet will do a complete physical exam.

Additional testing could include bloodwork, urine tests, x-rays, ultrasound, or a biopsy of the swollen mammary glands.

Treatment for False Pregnancy in Dogs

Usually, false pregnancy in dogs resolves in 2-3 weeks without any treatment.

For dogs that are irritating their nipples by licking them, a T-shirt, cone, or inflatable collar may be needed. Avoid milking or touching your dog’s nipples and mammary glands, as this will encourage more milk production.

In severe cases, medication can be given that blocks the prolactin hormone that causes the symptoms.

Recovery and Management of False Pregnancy in Dogs

Since false pregnancy in dogs is due to a hormonal change, your dog should be back to normal within a few weeks as her hormones cycle again. Female dogs who aren’t spayed and experience false pregnancies often have them during every heat cycle.

Spaying stops the heat cycle and hormonal changes, so it will prevent future false pregnancies. However, if a dog is spayed during an episode of false pregnancy, that won’t stop the symptoms.

False Pregnancy in Dogs FAQs

How long does a dog's false pregnancy last?

Typically 2-3 weeks, sometimes longer.

Is false pregnancy in dogs dangerous?

No. These hormonal changes are natural and will not harm your dog.

How can I help my dog through a false pregnancy?

You can help your dog by taking her to the vet to rule out any other conditions, then keeping her comfortable.

Use a T-shirt, a cone, or an inflatable collar to prevent her from licking or stimulating her nipples and mammary glands, which could cause irritation and milk production.

How common is false pregnancy in dogs?

It only occurs in unspayed female dogs, and occasionally in female dogs who have recently been spayed. False pregnancy is part of a normal hormonal cycle, so some degree of symptoms is fairly common in unspayed female dogs.

[fingertipsmp3]

I love the sims 2 because it will completely wreck your shit right when you’re least expecting it

[agro-carnist]

The whole "trans women can't get periods because they don't have uteruses" terf rhetoric is almost funny to me knowing that male dogs can have false heats and false pregnancies when their bodies produce excess estrogen

[carasueachterberg]

The Gangs All Here

Assimilating three dogs takes patience. Once upon a time, in my early days of fostering, I would rush it. No, actually, I just wouldn’t think about it. Foster dog arrived and we let it loose in the house. I look back on that now and am amazed it didn’t result in anything worse than ruined carpets. I have three canine guests in the cottage with me. Two are fosters and one is a previous foster…

[neetily]

Oh... To be a simple little puppy!girl... Forced into entering a relationship with your big scary new wolf!boyfriend...

— ✧ warnings: hybrids, noncon/dubcon, forced relationship, manipulation, naïve reader, name calling, dacryphilia, size difference, kidnapping, knot mention, pregnancy mention, marking, tummy bulge — ✧ word count: 2,282

— ✧ A/N: Just a quick little drabble, a small little scenario. Just to get things started on my blog! If you read, thank you very much. I hope you enjoy!

In a dog-eat-dog world, sometimes quite literally, it's no surprise that a lonely little pup like you found yourself in some hot water every now and then. Oh, but it's not your fault, sweet girl! You're just a silly little pup, aren't you? So soft and sweet, a shy little thing with your floppy puppy ears down to match your low hanging head— despite your attempts to avoid confrontation, it's only natural that trouble always finds you somehow, some way. You're just too tempting to the jaws of those bigger, stronger, and far more superior to you, always. It's only natural for you to submit to the likes that stalk the streets, the very same way that it's in your very bones to shake and quiver and to let out those meek little puppy whines for help when you find yourself cornered. So cute, aren't you?

He's always adored scared little puppies like you. You're always the easiest to obtain.

Chasing off those who had found you all alone was easy enough. Buncha dogs, mere mutts to his more imposing wolfish appearance. Not that he's much better than them deep down, really. He's just scarier, though his intentions remain the same, that's all. Mighty maw snarling insults and barking orders at those who dare threaten you, pearly white fangs already coated in shiny saliva at the mere thought of whisking you away all for himself instead. No, it wasn't a bother to scare off the admittedly much larger than you dogs from the dark, damp alleyway, ears pointed and hackles raised to play the role of protector for a moment. Much like how it wasn't any issue to coax your tucked tail shivering body into his big open palms, in spite of the way his long tail swished behind him with insidious interest.

Little pups like you never understand the kinds of situations you somehow always find yourselves in until it's too late, and it's not his fault that you can't see through his faux concern. You should know better than now, silly girl! You can't blame him for smirking when you fall for his false platitudes, or mumbled niceties so easily. God, he'd say literally anything you wanted if it meant you'd get all cozy in his car without complaint anyway ; but it's nice when all it takes is the promise of taking you home. A nice, easy, fuck.

Dummy. Stupid little mutt, you deserve a fucking wake up call for your bad behaviour, he thinks.

You're lucky you're so cute, chained up next to him the moment he brought you home (see, he didn't really lie, did he?) like that. The sleek black collar adorning your neck only makes you look even prettier with the way the leather shines from under you, reflecting against your tear stained cheeks so sweetly for him, he almost thinks it's on purpose. As if your body itself is pandering to his weak spots, begging for his attention as he keeps you held in captivity.

Really, he hadn't meant to keep you for so long. A night or two at most, enough to have his fun with you before sending you back out to fend yourself against the plentiful other wolves who'd enjoy feasting on you, sinking their big fangs into your soft body, marking you all up.

But there's just something about you that begs him to reconsider. You're so small compared to him, allowing him to easily lift and bend and mishandle you however he sees fit— small for even puppy standards, there's no way you could ever fend for yourself, and he finds himself wanting to protect that part of you. Those big adoring puppy eyes you flutter up at him when he tugs on your collar between his meaty thighs. The way your tiny little ears twitch and perk up upon the guttural growls your kitten licks coax out of him. That pretty tail of yours, giving your enjoyment away with fast flicks and quick wags in spite of the water that wells at your lash line.

And of course, the way you babble and hiccup with big fat teardrops rolling down your cheeks every time he manages to fuck half his cock into your squishy little puppy pussy— training, he'd growled down at you the first couple of times. But his patience wears thin; wolves aren't known for their proficiency in waiting, are they?

"C'mon, mutt—" He tries to encourage you, fangs flashing in delight as the way your cunt at least tries to adhere to his hoarse command, tone reprimanding in spite of the fact that he's at least in part trying to motivate you. It's simply in his nature to dominate you, he reasons with himself. And the way your body responds with shivers and squeaks upon every harsh hump of his cock deeper into your too tight little cunt only tells him that you want to give in to him too, even if it's difficult to fit every pulsing inch of his cock inside of your tiny little hole. It's just too easy to pin you down under him, face down, ass cradled by his slamming hips as he attempts to bury himself to the hilt prematurely. So easy to completely encase your tiny little puppy body under his far bigger wolf presence that he'd be a fool not to give your body what it's asking for, leaning down over you so that his front is pressed snug to your back and he can huff growls down your heated ears; you could never even hope to escape his full body weight, little dog. "M'not askin', know y'can do it, pup." He reminds you, pressing his sharp canines against your neck, letting your collar dig harshly against your skin— a reminder, that no matter how much you protest, he's only giving your body what she wants, baby.

And he's no fool. He knows how much you struggle to take him, and he knows how much you likely dislike how rough he is with you. Tugging and pulling and ruining you every chance he gets, simply because he's bigger than you, and what is a mere pup to a wolf? He bets you can't fucking stand the way he treats you like some scrap of meat, especially considering that he's kept you cooped up all alone in his room to play with until he grows bored. But he isn't. Not yet. Mounting you from behind like the dog he is, panting and slobbering all over your neck in between greedy gulps of your sickly sweet scent. So fucking good, smell so good it's unfair, a needy whine crawling up his throat for him to bite back with a bark instead. The way you struggle to even sob from under him only makes his cock harder, unfortunately.

And he can fuckin' smell how much that puppy pussy wants his knot too, forcing his throbbing cock against your gushing insides like his life depended on impregnating you, splitting you in two regardless of your docile wails as he makes his cock fit into your too tight little cunt. Trembling at the way your cunt squirms around his intrusion, breath caught in his throat from just how fucking perfect you feel, all nice and tight and wet. For him, right?

Oh, he knows why you were cornered in that alleyway now. Even he can't resist the allure of your pitifully sobbed whines for more, or for the tight suck of your insides, slick gushing out of your overstuffed cunt with every greedy hump forward he makes. Forcing his wolven claim upon you, marking up your insides with his fucking stink so that everyone knows who you now belong to. There's nothing you can do to avoid the bite of his sharp nails as they dig into your soft skin either, marking up every inch of you that he can reach in some sort of primal ritual of mine. Mine, mine, mine, so that no one else even thinks about cornering you again, because from now on, with the pop of his cock fully sheathed inside of your tight hole, you're his property. A snivelling, sobbing, sloppy little mess of some property, but his nonetheless.

How could he ever imagine letting go of you when you feel so perfect anyway? No, the chance encounter he had with you one night is all it took for him to find the perfect pretty mate. mounting your ass like he's never done before with any of the other cheap fucks he's experienced, forcing you to take his fat cock deeper with every thrust forward, almost folding you in half from the sheer weight behind his fucks to turn you into something that resembles more of a squeaky toy than his newfound beloved mate.

But you're so perfect for him. Simply taking his assault because there's nothing you can truly do about it. Because your body begs for more. Fucking himself silly in your perfect angel cunt, fucking you stupid if the way you choke on your words every time his tip kisses against your cervix is anything to go by, the slick sound of wet skin on skin slapping together as his heavy balls knock against you clit ringing in his perked up ears, moans snarled down at you like some sort of scolding. How dare you feel so good, fucking mutt. Y'should be thankful that it was me that found you and some some other sort of sick fuck.

Don't worry, he understands the irony behind his thoughts.

But the way you keen for more, back arched so prettily for his eyes to feast on, fucking you with his stare as well as his cock, rendering your cunt a squelchy concoction of the copious amounts of precum his cock leaks out for you, spit drooling down from his open and puffing maw to help aid the smooth glide in and out, and your creamy cunt slick; looks so good when forming a ring around the base of his cock, wolf tail twitching behind him in preparation for what comes next.

There's really only one way to properly claim you, he muses to himself. His humping is relentless, stroking himself off in your warm pretty pussy, a consistent stream of curses escaping his dry throat as he gets closer to that edge.

Sound so pretty when you cry for him too, "S'it too much?" He mocks you, "Aw, poor mutt..." He'd rumble laughter down at you, chest tight with affection when you do your best to take him anyway— whether it's forced or not. Faux sweet tone matching his brutal thrusts perfectly, ridiculing you for the way you cry out for him because it's easier than admitting to just how much your tears turn him on. How even just the thought of making you cry on his fat cock is enough to get him rock hard, never mind to fuck the tears out of you with unfair fucks right this moment. Besides, this is what you fucking owe him. He deserves some form of reward for saving you from those big scary dogs, right? Keeping you completely encased in his large stature, shielding you from view of all else in the room— "Mine," He huffs against your neck, letting his tongue loll out to coat you in his sticky saliva, just like how your cunt juices coat his thighs all tacky with slick. "My mate, fuckin' all mine from now on, yeah?"

He won't take no for an answer. Not when you feel so good, pretty puppy pussy squeezing around his fat wolf cock so well, the addition of his thumb slipping carefully between your folds to rub harshly at your clit to have you creaming his cock is enough of a persuasion to have him follow through with his rabid claims of ownership. Yeah, that's it, he can't let you leave now. The feeling of your cunt insides squishing and sucking and truly suffocating his fat cock is enough to convince him otherwise, fully giving in to his more primal instincts with fast vicious fucks to knock the wind out of you as you cum around his length. As if trying to prove his usefulness to you, to prove himself as a worthy mate, capable of fucking you so good and thoroughly that you've got no choice but to melt under him. Fucking you full to the point of tummy bulging, his hand under you stroking himself off as much as he twitching against your insides with insidious promise, and then he's spilling inside. Keeping you locked on his knot so that you can't go wandering off, even if you claw for escape. Pumping you so full of his thick cum that some of it spills out around him from his repeated miniscule thrusts. Jus' wants to make sure your puppy womb takes to it, rubbing his cum coated tip along your cervix in an attempt to knock you up, to breed his newfound mate on the first fuck.

Poor thing, he can feel how hard your hole squeezes around his fat knot, milking him for all he's worth, pretty little mewls hitting his perked up ears to share your sheer delight. "That's it—" He coos down at you, huffing and puffing for air after exerting so much energy, in spite of the way his cock still yet throbs for you. "Jus' sit tight for a minute, pup. Promise t'make y'feel all better soon."

And for once, he means it. The once play pup now turned mate, it's his duty to see to you from now on.

Only after he's done filling you up, though.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Law-Related Vocabulary

for your poem/story (pt. 2/4)

Admiralty - of or relating to conduct on the sea

Alter ego - second self

Attractive nuisance - a thing or condition on one's property that poses a risk to children who may be attracted to it without realizing the risk by virtue of their youth

Bequest - an act of bequeathing

Bequeath - to give by will

Bona vacantia - goods that are unclaimed and without an apparent owner

Capricious - governed or characterized by impulse or whim (e.g., lacking a rational basis; likely to change suddenly); not supported by the weight of evidence or established rules of law—often used in the phrase "arbitrary and capricious"

Colorable - having an appearance of truth, validity, or right

Damnum absque injuria - a loss for which the law provides no means of recovery

Dying declaration - a statement that is made by a person who firmly believes that he or she is about to die and has no hope of recovery and that concerns the circumstances or cause of the presumed death

Eleemosynary - of, relating to, or supported by charity

En ventre sa mere - in the womb

Euthanasia - the act or practice of killing or permitting the death of hopelessly sick or injured persons in a relatively painless way for reasons of mercy; called also "mercy killing"

Exculpate - to clear from alleged fault or guilt

Filius nullius - an illegitimate child; bastard; called also "filius populi"

Finger - to accuse or identify as guilty

Fireman's rule - a doctrine holding that a property owner or occupant is not liable for unintentional injuries suffered by firefighters or police officers in responding to a problem on the property

First blush - initial view, appearance, or consideration—used especially in the phrase "at first blush"

First degree - the grade given to the most serious forms of crimes

Hereditament - inheritable property

Homestead - a home and surrounding land

Inchoate - not yet made complete, certain, or specific : not perfected

M'Naghten test - a standard under which a criminal defendant is considered to have been insane at the time of an act (as a killing) if he or she did not know right from wrong or did not understand the moral nature of the act because of a mental disease or defect; called also "M'Naghten rule"

Mulct - fine, penalty

Mysterious disappearance - the loss of property under unknown or puzzling circumstances which are difficult to explain or understand

Pierce - to see through the usually misleading or false appearance of

Poison pill - a financial tactic or provision used by a company to make an unwanted takeover prohibitively expensive or less desirable

Prior art - the processes, devices, and modes of achieving the end of an alleged invention that were known or knowable by due diligence before and at the date of the invention

Pur autre vie - for another's life

Shark repellent - any measure taken by a corporation to discourage a hostile takeover attempt

Silent record - a record of a criminal proceeding which does not show that the defendant acted with knowledge or understanding of his or her rights (as in entering a plea of guilty or waiving the right to counsel)

Sui generis - constituting a class alone; unique or particular to itself

Vexatious - lacking a sufficient ground and serving only to annoy or harass when viewed objectively

Wrongful birth - a malpractice claim brought by the parents of a child born with a birth defect against a physician or health-care provider whose alleged negligence (as in prenatal testing or diagnosis) effectively deprived the parents of the opportunity to make an informed decision whether to avoid or terminate the pregnancy

Yellow-dog contract - an illegal employment contract in which a worker disavows membership in and agrees not to join a labor union in order to get a job

More: Law-Related Words More: Word Lists

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make you as happy as you make him, and he hates it when you won't even let him try. But when your frustration boils over, you snap at the person you believe deserves it the most.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You had been foolishly holding out hope. Until your period actually began, you'd been telling yourself that maybe there was still a chance. Maybe you had just taken the pregnancy test too early. Maybe you got a false negative.

So when you woke up for work on Monday and needed a tampon, you scolded yourself for your optimism. There was no point in it, because it only made you feel worse in the long-run. 

Bradley rubbed your shoulders and kissed your neck as you put your contacts in at the bathroom vanity. You looked gross. You were bloated, and your face was broken out. You vowed to stick to a better diet until you lost some weight. 

"Morning, Baby Girl," he murmured against your ear. It wasn't even fair. You wanted him all the time. He was perfect all the time. His voice gave you chills. 

"Morning," you whispered. "My period started." Your voice shook pathetically. 

"It's okay," he promised. "It's going to be okay." 

But you really felt like it wasn't. And work was pissing you off. When you got to your lab, you remembered that you and Cat were going to be spending the day working on proposals together. Great. 

"Did you have fun at the Hard Deck?" you asked her, practically throwing your computer onto the counter next to hers. 

She looked up at you, and you could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. "It was fun," she replied. "Not really my scene, but I can see where it would be yours."

You wanted to ask her what that was supposed to mean, but you bit your tongue. You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking you cared about her opinion of you. And you were definitely going to have to tell Jake to get a crush on a hot looking woman who was actually nice, because you'd had just about enough of this. He had bugged you all night at the bar to introduce him to Cat again. He asked you about her all the time, but there was nothing to tell.

You took a seat and pounded away at your keyboard, working all morning while trying to ignore your cramps and your irritation with the woman next to you. Neither of you spoke a word about anything personal. It was all professional. When you noticed that it was noon, you said, "Let's take a break," in as bright a voice as you could.

Jake was waiting in the doorway for you. Or maybe he was just trying to catch a glimpse of Cat. But regardless, when you approached him, he smiled and handed you a container of soup from the cafeteria. "Angel. Let's eat in your office," he drawled. And when Cat breezed past him, he murmured, "Hi, Lieutenant Coleman."

She smirked in response, and Jake turned to watch her walk the entire way down the hall. "You're such a dog," you told him, inspecting the soup and finding it was chicken noodle. "You just need to get laid. Go to the bar tonight. There'll be a line of girls waiting for you."

He met your eyes and shook his head. "I'm not really doing that anymore."

You snorted as he followed you to your office. "Could you imagine if I agreed to go out with you? Bradley and I would have never happened after that."

Jake kicked his booted foot along your office floor before he plopped down into your extra chair. "Yeah, well... he'd have likely killed me if we went out. But, hey, you're not listening to me, Angel. Tell me more about Cat Coleman."

You sighed and ate some soup. "She's mean to me, okay? She doesn't like me."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. She's so bitchy to me but nice to everyone else. She makes fun of the way I work. She won't eat lunch with me. She avoids me all the time. She hates me."

You swallowed another spoonful of soup, and tears immediately sprung to your eyes. You looked up at Jake, and you knew he could tell something was wrong immediately. When he jumped to his feet, you tried to wave him off, but he was kneeling next to your chair and rubbing your hand before you knew it. 

"What happened?" he asked softly. When you didn't respond, he gave you a few seconds before asking, "Do you want me to go get Rooster?"

"No," you croaked, your throat burning with the effort to talk. "I'm fine."

"You do not sound fine. You can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I'm all ears."

And he just knelt there next to you while you told him how much you hated going to your lab now. And you told him that you had your period. And then you said, "Bradley and I are trying to start a family, but it's just not happening."

"Hey," he said, letting you cry it out. "You and Bradley are already a family. Plus, you've got Tramp. And Nat and I are like siblings you guys never even wanted."

You kind of shrugged at him. "It's not the same thing."

"I know that, but sometimes it takes time," he told you.

"It's been four months," you whispered. 

Jake stood up and pulled you to your feet, and then he wrapped you in a hug so tight, his name tag was digging into your collarbone. "Just give it some time. You want me to talk to Rooster?"

"No. Let's just finish eating lunch."

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

Bradley had been trying all week. Kissing along your neck and rubbing your hips through your khakis while you made dinner. But you finally snapped at him on Wednesday night when you were trying to cut up some sun dried tomatoes for the Marry Me Rooster he had requested. 

"I'm trying to cook dinner, Bradley. Yes, I realize you're trying to get me in the mood. Yes, I can feel your erection. No, I don't want to have sex. I look gross, and I feel gross." You set down your knife and turned to face him. He had taken one huge step away from you, and now he was looking at you with the saddest brown eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. 

"Shit," you whispered as you rushed after him. "I'm sorry."

He was standing next to the bed unbuttoning his uniform shirt when you walked in and headed right for him. But he didn't say anything, just yanked his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed. The sight of him in his khaki pants and black undershirt had you sucking in a deep breath. It wasn't that you didn't want him. You just didn't even want yourself right now.

"Bradley," you whispered. 

"Nah. I'm going to go workout in the garage," he told you, stripping out of his pants and digging in a drawer for some gym shorts. "I'll eat later. Don't wait for me."

You watched him walk back out of the room. Then he called for Tramp, and you heard the sliding glass door open and then close. You went back to the kitchen and finished making dinner. You had to fight the urge to go out to the garage and get Bradley, because somehow you knew you'd just end up making things worse. You made him a beautiful plate of dinner and left it on the island. And then you got yourself ready for bed. You were no longer hungry. 

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

Bradley was stressing out. He could feel his composure crumbling as every maneuver he performed in the air was wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was like he and his Super Hornet were out of sync. Like he couldn't trust himself. 

"What are you doing, Rooster?" Phoenix asked him through the comms. But Bradley didn't even know how to respond, because he hadn't been paying attention. He was distracted. He was never like this in the air. 

And then he heard Maverick call his team back to the ground, and he knew it was his fault. He wished he could take all of the pushups for Phoenix and Bob as well, but it was a team effort after all. So Bradley had to try to keep calm while he could feel them glaring at him through all two hundred pushups.

He had been like this all week. Nothing made as much sense to him as flying did. Well, other than you. But things had been a little rough and unpredictable at home. He wasn't really trying to do it, but he had begun to memorize when you were ovulating and when your period was due. Fucking you was no chore, but he was absolutely ready for you to miss a period. He was obsessed with the idea of you showing him a positive pregnancy test. But it just... wasn't happening yet.

And now he was putting pressure on himself. Because he knew he was a ticking time bomb. He felt it in his bones. Any day now, he would be getting deployment papers. And then you would be alone for who knows how long. Weeks or months. Bradley would be on an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean, and you would be at home, worrying about him. And the mission to make a baby would be put on hold, replaced by a different kind of mission.

The thing was, all of this was bothering him a hell of a lot more now, because it was bothering you so much. 

Bradley slammed his locker closed only to find Jake standing there. "You better pull it together, Bradshaw," he said so calmly that it pissed Bradley off even more. "Or you're going to get grounded."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Bradley asked, getting in his face. "Do you think I don't know I'm flying like shit right now?"

But Jake didn't move an inch, and his expression didn't change. "I think whatever is bothering you... well, you should take it home to your wife. Angel will help you feel better."

Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning against his locker with his fist clenched. "She's part of the fucking problem," Bradley growled, and he watched Jake's eyes grow wide. 

Jake gaped at him before he said, "I can't think of a single time you've ever said something like that about her." His feelings seemed to be hurt on your behalf, but Bradley didn't know how to explain how he felt. 

"When she puts pressure on herself, all I want is to relieve it for her," he told Jake softly, trying to unclench his fist. "But I can't. She won't let me."

Jake sighed. "I think I know what it's about. She's been pretty upset. Tried to tell her it's not her fault, but I can tell she's blaming herself."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flushing. You and Jake were close. The other man probably did know some details about your intimate moments with Bradley which was kind of mortifying. However, Bradley would never want you to feel like you couldn't confide in someone you trusted. It was just hard to gasp that Jake was oftentimes that person for you. 

"We just want to have a baby," Bradley growled. 

"It's only been a few months," Jake reminded him. "Deep down, Angel knows it takes time."

Bradley looked up at the flickering fluorescent bulb. "Sometimes I feel like I'm never doing enough for her," he whispered, grabbing his bag and brushing past Jake. 

But he almost ran into Payback on his way out. "What are you still doing here, man?" he asked with a grin. "If I had a girl as hot as your wife, I'd be home by now, pumping her full of babies."

The urge to punch his friend directly in the face was so strong, Bradley had to bite his lip and keep moving. He needed to get home to you but not take this out on you. That would be unacceptable. Because while you were adding to his stress, he would never tell you that. 

You were already home when he walked inside, and Bradley had to try to fight for composure. "Hi," he managed to say. Of course you looked impossibly cute, laying with Tramp on the couch in Bradley's oversized UVA tee and a pair of his boxer briefs. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep his hands off you right now, but you'd been distant with him for more than a week. 

"How was your day?" you asked him softly.

Somehow your sweet voice just made him angry. Your voice and your gorgeous face and the way he could see your nipples through the shirt. And Bradley couldn't help himself. His voice was rough to his own ears, and he sounded mad. "My day fucking sucked. It was terrible," he growled. "I flew like an asshole. I got everyone assigned to pushups. I was so distracted from work, thinking about you."

Your eyes were wide as you sat up. "Thinking about me?" Tramp jumped to the floor and ran over to sniff at Bradley's boots as he untied them. 

"Yeah," he grunted, wrestling out of his flight suit and tossing it to a heap on the floor. His skin felt too hot. He needed to go for a run or lift weights. "I told you I think about you all the damn time. And today, trust me, I wish I hadn't been."

"What does that mean?" you asked him, standing up between the couch and the coffee table, your lips forming a little pout. 

Bradley yanked his undershirt off as well, standing just inside the front door in only his compression shorts and his socks. "It means I'm mad because you won't let me try to make you feel better! You don't even want to talk to me, but you'll talk to Jake! I'm fucking pissed that you're skipping meals and ditching me for lunch every day!"

Bradley took off toward the bedroom, leaving you behind. He was afraid of what else he was going to say if he didn't get some space to himself right now. And the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. But when he got into the bedroom to get some workout clothes, you followed him. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked loudly, slamming his drawer shut instead of actually pulling anything out of it. "Tell me."

"I'm sorry I've been shutting you out, Roo." You took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry I haven't been eating lunch with you. I know we can keep trying, but when I get my period now, I panic."

"You panic and talk to Jake," Bradley growled. When you simply nodded, his blood boiled. He knew he was red in the face as he closed the distance to you. The words were there before he could take them back. "If you want to talk to Jake all the time, maybe you should have married him."

Your lips parted soundlessly, and then you moaned. A needy sound, from the back of your throat. One that had Bradley's cock stirring immediately. 

"I don't want him. I've never wanted him. I just want you."

"Do you want me right now, Baby Girl? Because I wanna fuck you right here," he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was still gruff and unsteady. "You're going to have to tell me to go out back to the garage if you want me to keep my hands to myself. Okay? Because I want my wife. But I will settle for my hand and then the bench press if you don't want me back."

You whimpered, reaching for the hem of the tee shirt and guiding it up over your hips. "I am so turned on," you whispered. "Please."

"Please what?" Bradley demanded, running his hand along his cock through his shorts. 

"Daddy," you gasped in shock. Like you couldn't even believe you said it to him. Like you needed him as badly as he needed you. "Fuck me."

"Baby Girl," he whispered harshly as he pressed himself against you.

You yanked the shirt over your head and pulled his boxer briefs down over your delicious hips as you moaned, "I want my husband."

His cock was fully at attention now as he stroked your dainty Rooster tattoo with his fingertips. "I'm right here," he growled, watching you step out of his underwear and kick them aside. Your eyes were wide and fixed on his as you stood naked before him. "You gonna let me take care of you?"

"Yes," you gasped when he moved his hand to your pussy. "Are you still angry, Daddy? From your bad day?"

Bradley raised one eyebrow. He knew how he sounded. He knew he was breathing heavily. He also felt how fucking wet you were as he slid his middle finger along your slit. 

"Do you want me to be?" he asked before placing a rough kiss to your lips. 

"Yes," you moaned, and in one swift movement, Bradley had the front of your body pressed up against the wall next to the bedroom door. You squealed and braced yourself with both hands as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart. 

"You like making me this way?" he growled next to your ear before sucking hard on your neck. "I think you do."

Bradley reached his hands up to squeeze your tits as you whined his name. He stroked your nipples softly with his thumbs while he sucked on your neck some more. 

Then he took his cock in his right hand and guided himself to your opening. He filled you in one swift motion, and started fucking you so hard, your face almost hit the wall. He caught you with his hand on your jaw as you whimpered for him. 

"You think it's fun to get me all pissed off at work?" he asked, low and soft. "You love having so much control over me, don't you?"

"I do," you whispered as he turned your face so you were looking at him over your shoulder. 

"You love knowing I think about your voice during lectures. Think about your body when I'm flying. I can't stop thinking about how much I love fucking you," he said, his voice getting louder as he pressed his forehead against your perfect cheek and brushed his fingers over your tattoo before stroking your clit.

You cried out for him. "I do, Daddy! I love it!"

Bradley was determined to get you off. He wouldn't have a repeat of the dining room floor. Not today. He went a little harder, a little deeper. He listened to the incoherent words tumbling out of your mouth. And then he said, "Try and find someone better than me. Someone else who can fuck you this good. You can't."

"No!" you grunted, your fingers bending, nails digging into the wall. You were struggling to look at him as your eyes fluttered closed. 

He kissed along your jaw before ending at your ear and whispering, "I love you." And then he felt it. That beautiful clench of your pussy as you came for him. He knew the feel of you so well. He wanted to take care of everything for you. He needed to give you everything you wanted. Be everything you needed. 

He came for you too, hands drifting to your hips as his movements slowed. You were unsteady on your feet as you turned to face him. Bradley's cum was dripping down your legs and onto the floor as you reached for him. Then you were in his arms, kissing him just right with your fingers in his hair. And he couldn't remember why he'd been upset in the first place. 

"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Bradley stumbled back onto the bed with you wrapped up with him. When he fell back with you on top of him, you laughed. 

"Come here," he coaxed, and you straddled his waist and kissed him until your lips were puffy. When he tried to move, you held him down and kissed him some more. He felt himself relax completely with every little sound you made and every swipe of your tongue against his. 

"Roo," you crooned, your lips moving to his neck and kissing him softly there.

He groaned and started to sit up. "What's it called when the foreplay comes after sex?"

You giggled. "Post play?"

"Shit, Sweetheart," he said, letting you keep going with your lips. "You want more?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his skin, setting his nerve endings ablaze. 

"Give me a minute, and I'll take care of you again."

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

You were sore on Monday morning. In the best kind of way. You and Bradley had spent the weekend talking and having sex. And then having more sex. Only taking a break to go grocery shopping and swing by the Hard Deck. Jake knew right away that you were both feeling much better. He was always so patient with you that you found it hard not to smile when he bought you and Bradley beers. 

You needed to be more open with Bradley. And you would be. And starting today, you'd meet him and Nat in the cafeteria unless you really were honestly working through lunch instead of hiding in your office. You just needed to get through your morning with Cat. Which was easier said than done.

She gave you short answers to every question. When you asked her to type up some of the notes you wrote, she looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you have typed this up yourself?"

You sighed. "I worked it up over the weekend. In my free time. I read it to my husband as I wrote it, and it seemed to flow easier when I wrote it."

She scrutinized your notebook. "Well I can barely read it. I'll work in the code while you type it up. I'm better at the code anyway."

Was she implying she was better at coding than typing? Or that she was better at coding than you were? She made you so mad. The next time Jake mentioned how beautiful her eyes were, you were going to pummel him. 

Everyone else had already deserted the lab when you realized what time it was. "Should we take a lunch break?" you asked, scrambling to lock up your computer. Bradley and the others were probably waiting for you already. You did not want to disappoint him today. Not after such a perfect weekend. 

"Fine," Cat agreed. Her tone was short, like you were throwing off her entire day by deciding to take lunch at lunchtime. 

You squared your shoulders and turned to face her as she stood up. Then you blurted out, "I don't understand what I did to make you dislike me."

Cat froze in place, her eyes appraising your face. You felt the prickle of embarrassment along your skin, and you were afraid she was going to laugh in your face. But she just shook her head slowly. "I don't dislike you."

"Yes, you do," you scoffed, your embarrassment swiftly replaced with annoyance. 

"No, Lieutenant Commander. I do not," she said, firmly closing her computer. Then she went off, and you didn't stop her. "But your life is so perfect, it's honestly hard for me to relate to you. Even at work. Your husband dotes on you. He's always in the lab, bringing you snacks and asking you about your day. You've got Seresin in here all the time, too. And you're the golden child. Bickel sings your praises at the meetings every week."

Your eyes were bugging out. "But, that's not-"

She cut you off and kept going. "You and I both have the same master's degree, but I'm a year older than you, and you outrank me." Her voice sounded bitter as she said, "I'm a single mom. My life is a mess. I'm broke. We live with my uncle. I feel like a joke all the time. But your life is perfect. And trust me, I wish more than anyone else that I wasn't jealous of you." 

You stood completely still and watched her walk out of the lab and disappear down the hallway. Your life was not perfect. The fact that it maybe looked that way to someone else shocked you. Cat thought she was a mess. Well, you were a mess, too. But she was a mom. 

A moment later, you followed her down the hallway toward the cafeteria where Bradley was waiting for you with a smile on his face and a bottle of your favorite hot sauce on his tray.

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

Oh. Cat's a little jelly of BG. Well, Cat... BG just might be a little jelly of you. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[hisdahlia]

to who knows when.

wc. 1.9k. fem aligned. graphic depictions of gore somewhat. lack of dialogue on daryl’s end (sorry).

upon maggie falling victim to some sort of potentially life threatening ailment, you practically threw yourself toward the opportunity of escorting her alongside rick and the others to the doctor you all knew resided in hilltop. given the fact you’d been home bound since the group arrived in alexandria, you did all that you could to contribute, this included safeguarding maggie throughout her pregnancy. you had to be there for her, you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you weren’t there. it was so eerie being on inside those walls all the time, almost suffocating. you didn’t want to cling onto this false sense of security, daryl was in the same boat as you.

you knew of the attack on a sanctuary that held ammunition owned by the saviors, the undeniably grotesque plan to both raid and slaughter in cold blood. it was so awful how quickly everyone acclimated to such a brutal escalation. you knew it was going to cause some turmoil … and boy, was this the last thing you all expected. as the rv slowly broke down from underneath you all and saviors taunting you no matter what route you went, you knew it was all toppling over and crashing down onto you all. eugene put himself up to bat, taking initiative in attempting to draw your assaulters away from maggie so you could still get her to hilltop. you were set on joining rick and the rest of the group to transport her on foot.

hard breaths, akin to a dog, pupils blown wide, skin clammy. you all peered around as you were caged in with vehicles and blinding headlights, the bird calls of twice your army blaring in your ears as it settled in the pits of all of your stomachs that, no, today was your last day on earth. you brought a hand to your face to sit at your brow line, blocking out the sudden luminosity of your surroundings, trying to make out what was going on. rick, everyone, was so sure of the fact that they had taken care of this infamous ‘negan’, but that had been far from the truth. your stomach in knots, knees aching as you were forced down onto the earth beneath you to kneel. your group mates were all snotty nosed and tearful, you were just trying to make out your surroundings still.

soon joined by a battered eugene, followed with an order toward a man named dwight, brandishing daryl’s crossbow, you grit your teeth as you see a bloodied daryl coerced out of the back of one of their vans alongside michonne, rosita, and glenn. you fell forward, your palms making contact with the gravelly floor beneath you. the tips of your fingers digging into the jagged soil only to be met with the barrel of simon’s pistol pointed at your skull, and a demand being barked in your direction to sit pretty on your knees. your eyes trailed over to your wounded boyfriend, sniffling as you forced yourself back to your knees, somewhat slumping your shoulders as you let defeat sink in. daryl knew you had no part in this, knew you just got yourself into this whole mess unknowingly and he felt so disgustingly ashamed that he let you get caught up in his wrongdoings. his expression hardened as a voice spoke out against the silence.

“pissin’ our pants yet?” the figure emerged from the rv, clad in a black leathered biker jacket and a red tassel-like scarf roped around his neck. he held a barbed wire bat within his grasp as it rested atop his right shoulder. he slowly moseyed his way over into the light as if you all had stricken lucky with front row seats to the show he was about to put on for you all. being appointed to your leader, he began chastising rick, along with confirmation of the fact that, he was negan. lecturing him about how killing his men wasn’t going to go unpunished. he seemed oddly charismatic about having all of you in the palm of his hand, defenseless and seeking for mercy. he went on a tangent about how half of your findings were his now, how you all now worked for him. due to shock, you had tuned him out, all you could look at was daryl, noticing his breathing was rather labored.

this was until … you heard the phrase, laced with malice, “i’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.” as soon as those words left negan’s mouth, you were petrified. not for yourself, but for your boyfriend whom was possibly in his sights due to the injury he had sustained. he introduced his bat as if it were a tangible entity, which was characteristic of him, even in the short span of time you’ve known him. her name was lucille, he praised her as if she weren’t just an inanimate object. it was practically the ramblings of a madman. with introductions aside, he began going down the line, all of your breaths mingling together in occasional hitches and sharp exhales.

it was as if he was sizing up all of you, trying to predict which one of you would garner the most screams out of one another if he brought lucille down into your skull, brutalizing it in various blows. he got to maggie, racking his brain for the idea of just putting her out of her misery, earning an explosive response out of glenn. as dwight pinned him down on the floor because of his outburst, negan stated firmly that whatever your accomplice just did not fly with him, how it would be shut down instantly. he then made his rounds over to carl, making an inference that he must’ve been rick’s son. rick immediately shouted for negan to stop this, only to be forcibly piped down by the man with a similar tone in a snide quip. negan was visibly stumped on who to choose. you all exchanged glances with one another fearfully as a sinister smile stretched across his face, cheeks flexing into small divs in his face in the shape of dimples. he spun the bat in his hand, pointing it near rick’s jawline before uttering the word ‘eeny’. he was just trying to draw this whole thing out, just making possibly the last moments of their lives a nightmare incarnate. he went down the line, one by one further stretching out this sequence, making it out to be a carousel sent from hell. he had this smug look on his face as he played with his food.

daryl had a war in his mind, not even bothering to look over at the bat pointed in his direction briefly. he got you in this situation. he had you in the hands of this man you had done nothing to, now you were going to lose your life because of the things daryl had done. he had you all cooped up at the house for this very reason. he couldn’t stomach let alone digest the idea of you getting hurt. yet, when it’s by his hand? god, he was absolutely war torn. you on the other hand, stared up at the bat all wide eyed, lashes clumped together with tears that threatened to fall from your waterline as the bat left your sight. you bowed your head, trying to shield your eyes from the suspense that was gnawing at you before you heard a pair of heavy boots shuffle in front of you, looking up to see the top of the barbed wire wrapped baseball bat pointing right at you, the words ‘it’ leaving your captors lips to end off his little nursery rhyme.

daryl’s ears were ringing, heart pounding in his throat as he saw you knelt before lucille, fat tears now rolling down the apples of your cheeks as you whimpered out feeble pleas for your life. you could hardly breathe, sitting there motionlessly. daryl was unable to say anything, he couldn’t protest the inevitable, he could hardly get a word out, his jaw going slack as he attempted to find the right words to say. you let out a strained whine of his name, his head bowed, cowering away from the scene, he was frozen. “anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start,” negan’s voice pierced through the static in his ears, causing him to shut his eyes slightly, gripping onto the blood soaked fabric draped over his shoulders like vice. his eyes scattered around toward the floor, his blood running hot as his jaw clenched.

“you can breathe, you can blink, you can cry…” negan inhaled a breath, folding his lips in on one another before swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, wetting it as that same smile carved itself into his face once more, “hell, you’re all gonna be doing that,” he delivered his final set of words before the bat was raised above your head. your eyes locked with your assailant’s, your body trembling as your own bottom lip jutted out in a frown, your hair falling in your face to frame it, the last thing you heard that was audible was daryl yelling out for you before the the bat swung down, hammering your skull in with one singular blow. your jaw shattered completely, leaving you lying face down, incapacitated and hardly hanging onto consciousness. you heard the sound of your blood rushing through your ears, the squelch of the bat making contact with the carnage of your scalp a second time as you laid there lifelessly.

the group, including the man you vowed to be with for eternity was forced to bear witness to you being beat into a bloody pulp against the earth. the woman he loved was killed by chance, yet he couldn’t help but feel like it was all a play against him. he sat there and wept like he were a boy again, flinching as the splatter from the gore that was what remained of your head hit his face, into his eye as he struggled to blink it out of the whites of his eyes. all that he had promised her, all that he had promised everyone before, he couldn’t deliver on his end. it was becoming apparent now, palpable. he looked down at your remains, watching as your fingers spasmed and twitched involuntarily, he croaked out a meek ‘no’ as he collapsed into himself completely, a mere shell of a man was the only thing that remained within him.

negan took a knee in front of daryl, nudging the fabric wrapped around his shoulders off of them before wiping the bloodied remains of his girlfriend onto his shirt, tutting as he shook his head. “take a damn look. you’ve been shying your ass away from lucille this whole damn time and she is not having any of that shit,” he spoke firmly before his expression dropped suddenly, “hoh, damn,” he drawled out, looking over at your corpse then back to daryl, “were you… were you together? that sucks.” he stifled a small laugh, retracting lucille to rest idly at his leg as he stood. “always hated killing women, she could’ve been a nice piece to have on my hip if you didn’t decide to fuck around with my shit,” he said, attempting to drive the idea of her death being his fault into his head. before negan knew it, daryl took off like a rocket, lunging toward him in a fit of rage.

[misshoneyimhome]

Can you do a pregnancy scare for inexperienced reader X Willy Nylander ?

Of course, I can babe 🤗🌺

Tropes & Warnings: inexperienced!reader x Willy, pregnancy scare, alcohol consumption, soft boyfriend!Willy

Word count: 1.9K

➼｡ﾟ

The hockey season was just around the corner, and everything seemed to be falling back into its usual rhythm. You were back at work, and William was deep into his training, juggling media obligations and preparing for the upcoming NHL documentary. Life felt busy but comfortably ordinary. However, there was one thing that wasn’t within the ordinary—your period.

At first, you tried to brush off the worry. With an IUD, your cycles had always been a bit unpredictable. Sometimes you’d have a light period, and other times, nothing at all. It wasn’t unusual, so you didn’t let it bother you. But as the days turned into weeks and another month passed with no sign of your period, the worry became harder to ignore.

Your mood swings worsened, your cravings grew stronger, and your temper became short. You didn’t even recognise yourself some mornings, struggling to get out of bed. Exhaustion became your constant companion, and when even the thought of walking the dogs felt overwhelming, you knew something was off.

But it couldn’t be.

You were careful, using protection, but the nagging thought that birth control isn’t 100% effective kept gnawing at you. You and William had been more than just active—your sex life was an integral part of your relationship. Whether it was gentle nights where he’d take his time, fingering you before entering you to ensure you both reached a climax, or the spontaneous moments on the sofa where you’d give him a mind-blowing blowjob before riding him to ecstasy, your chemistry was undeniable. There were also those passionate mornings where he’d lift you onto the dining table, enjoying the sweetness of your juices before watching your every move as he thrust into you with an intensity that left you both breathless. Even quickies in the car weren’t off the table, the thrill of getting caught only adding to the excitement as your breaths fogged the windows.

But with all that sex, there was always a risk. You knew that, and yet, you trusted the IUD to protect you. That’s why, when you realised your period was late—really late—you tried to reassure yourself that everything was fine. Still, doubt nagged at you, and eventually, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

One evening, while William was out, you finally mustered the courage to take a test. Your heart pounded as you waited, watching the seconds tick by on your phone. When those two small blue lines appeared, signalling you were pregnant, your world seemed to tilt.

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at the result in disbelief. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts—how could this happen? You were on birth control.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to William yet; he was already dealing with the pressure of the upcoming season and the media circus that followed him everywhere. And you didn’t want to add more stress, especially not when you were still trying to process the possibility yourself.

Yet, not knowing what else to do, you called Sanna, the one person you knew you could trust. As a mother herself and someone who’d been with you through your relationship with William, she listened patiently as you poured out your fears and anxieties. Her calm voice was a balm to your frayed nerves, as she suggested that it might be a false positive—something that could happen. She convinced you to take another test, maybe even a few more, just to be sure.

But before you had a chance to act on her advice, the situation escalated in the most unexpected way.

It was supposed to be just another casual night out, a rare chance for you to relax and spend time with William and some of his Swedish teammates before the season kicked into full gear. The group had decided to keep things low-key, gathering at a trendy but cosy bar in downtown Toronto. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and conversation, but you could barely focus on anything being said. Your mind was still reeling from the test you'd taken the day before, the faint blue lines that had turned your world upside down.

You still hadn’t told William, and every time you caught a glimpse of his carefree smile or heard his infectious laugh, a wave of guilt and anxiety would wash over you. How could you drop this bombshell on him now, just when everything seemed to be going so well?

The conversation among the group had drifted to lighter topics—upcoming games, vacation memories, the usual banter that you normally found comforting. But tonight, you felt like an outsider in your own body, barely able to engage as your thoughts swirled with the weight of your secret.

And then, it happened.

Calle, always the joker of the group, was mid-story, laughing as he recounted how their close friend David Pastrňák had not only tied the knot in a grand wedding this offseason but had also just welcomed a baby. And with a teasing grin, he added, “Seems like everyone’s catching baby fever these days. Who knows, maybe Willy’s next in line for some new adventures, eh?”

The words hit like a thunderclap. The laughter around the table died abruptly, leaving a thick, uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Only Sanna knew your secret—how your period was late, how you'd taken a test, and how the result had thrown your world into chaos. But now, with Calle’s offhand remark and your refusal to drink hard liquor—something that hadn’t gone unnoticed despite your excuse of a light headache—there was no more hiding.

You felt the blood drain from your face, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain everyone could hear it. Panic gripped you, your mind racing to find a way to defuse the situation, to explain the tension that was now painfully obvious. But the words stuck in your throat, refusing to come.

Meanwhile William’s eyes were on you, full of unspoken questions. The room, once filled with lighthearted chatter, now felt suffocatingly silent, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for what would happen next.

And when you finally mustered the courage to meet his eyes, the mixture of shock and concern in his expression was unmistakable. His easygoing smile had vanished, replaced by a furrowed brow and a tightness in his jaw that you’d rarely seen before. The realisation was there, clear as day. William wasn’t just piecing together the joke—he was piecing together the truth.

You could see it in the way his eyes searched yours, silently pleading for an explanation. This wasn’t like the minor pregnancy scare from months ago, when a false alarm had been met with nervous laughter and relief. This felt real, serious, and you both knew it.

“How about another drink?” Alex, William’s brother, casually suggested to defuse the tension. And fortunately, it seemed to work.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the conversation picking up again around you, but you and William were no longer part of it. You couldn’t focus on the jokes, the drinks, or even the concerned glances from the other guys. All you could think about was getting out of there, away from the probing eyes and the suffocating pressure.

When you finally left the bar, the walk back to your condo was filled with a tense silence. William’s hand was on the small of your back, guiding you through the city streets, but the usual warmth and comfort of his touch felt distant. Every step felt heavy, and the closer you got to the condo, the more the anxiety built up inside you.

As soon as you were inside, the tension that had been simmering between you finally erupted. In the middle of the living room, William turned to you, his voice low and controlled, but you could hear the edge of worry. “What was Calle talking about? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your hands were shaking, and the words felt stuck in your throat. You hadn’t meant for him to find out this way. This was supposed to be a conversation you had in private when you could both sit down and talk it through without the weight of an entire hockey season looming over you.

“I was going to tell you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to stress you out before I knew for sure.”

William’s expression softened, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes as he stepped closer, gently cupping your face. “Tell me what?”

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally let the truth out. “I took a test, and it was positive. But Sanna said it could be a false alarm, so I was going to take more tests before... before telling you.”

For a moment, the room was completely still, the air thick with tension. You could see the shock in William’s face, the way his eyes widened, then narrowed as he processed your words. His hands fell away from your face, and he ran them through his hair, a sign of his stress.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” William’s voice trembled slightly, though he was clearly trying to keep his emotions in check.

Your own voice wavered, heavy with the weight of your decision. “Because you’ve got so much on your mind already,” you admitted, the words almost catching in your throat. “I didn’t want to add to your stress if it turned out to be nothing.”

William exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping as he processed what you were saying. He looked down, running a hand through his hair again, clearly overwhelmed. “I just don’t get it… I mean, you’re on birth control, right?”

“Of course I am, Willy,” you responded quickly, the desperation in your voice evident. “But… as much as I hate to admit it, they aren’t always 100% safe… and we do have a lot of sex.”

He sighed again, the frustration evident on his face, but as his eyes met yours and he saw the tears that had started to spill, his expression softened.

You could see the conflict in his eyes—the frustration with the situation mixed with deep concern for you. He knew this was nowhere near your fault - if anything it was his, at least both of yours - and that you were just as scared and confused as he was.

So gently, he reached out and took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “We’re in this together, okay? No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, the tension that had been knotting in your chest easing just slightly at his words. The fear was still there, but William’s support made it feel a little less overwhelming. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t be,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug. You could feel his heart beating against your cheek, the steady rhythm calming you. “Let’s just take the other tests and see where we stand.”

In the bathroom, the minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you took the other tests, William pacing nervously outside. Finally, you emerged, holding the results in your hand, as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

“They’re negative,” you said, the relief flooding through you both. You could see the tension drain from William’s face as he pulled you into his arms once more, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

That night, as you lay in bed together, the fear and anxiety slowly gave way to a deeper conversation about your future, about the possibility of parenthood one day—but not now, not when life was already so full of challenges and new beginnings. And as you drifted off to sleep in William’s arms, you knew that whatever came your way, you’d face it together.

[nervousd]

Side story— Unexpected

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS- an unexpected outcome happens

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, implications of babytrapping, talks of abortion, implications of noncon/dubcon, unwanted pregnancy, talks of miscarriage, implications of physical abuse, talks of death(?), older man/younger woman, obsession, possessive, yandere, implications of platonic yandere

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch

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❝ Fuck— Fuck! ❞ countless items were scattered across the floor, you threw everything that was near— a vase with nice decorated flowers gifted by the man that had brought you down to situation. Clothes that were gifted by him— accessories that he gifted you. Your voice grew louder, pulse racing and breath labored— your muscles were tensed as you could feel your blood boiling. With nothing else near your reach you were left restlessly

Your fingers fidgeted, restless to distract your attention somewhere else. The taunting thin blue lines however seemed to be mocking you. Numerous pregnancy test were scattered across the floor, they weren’t easy to get either— your fingers crept up towards your hair pulling at the rots. You aren’t ready to be a mother— to have a child. Tears welled up in frustration— this wasn’t possible. You were careful— you were sure of it. Had taken the morning after pill religiously— even if you were reassured that a condom would be used. An ugly expression crept up your face, your fingers balled into a fist and slammed them down on the cement.

A profanity of curses escaped past your lips, ❝ That damn dog— That Bastard! ❞ it was no secret who the father of your unborn child is— or rather clump of cells. There was still time— to get rid of it. As cruel as it sounds it was reasonable wasn’t it? How can you bring a child into such a cruel world? This was no life and neither was earth. How can you even be pregnant? As much as you wanted to delude yourself into thinking all the pregnancy test were false there was no denying the truth. The morning sickness and lack of period was enough confirmation for you.

But even then— none of this made sense. You couldn’t be pregnant, you were careful— too careful. Hell maybe you could even call yourself paranoid. The Colonel— no Miles had done something. He had begun to act oddly one day. You knew him well— too well. He was up to something— at one point you had devised a plan to find out. Much to your horror— Miles had began dreaming of building a family with you. He whispered his desires and dreams when he thought you were asleep, hand caressing your stomach. You laid wide awake that night, unable to sleep. And now here you are pregnant— what a fuckin coincidence isn’t it? He did something— he is the reason why you were pregnant.

You held no feelings for this man— couldn’t even bear to think of having a child with him. You despised him— but there was a perk to this unique relationship with him. You would use his affections not only for you benefit but for the avatar program as well. If all you had to do was batt your eyelashes at him or whispering sweet nothings into his ear, you can get him to consent to a small favor for you— of course they were never small. There were even talks of regaining peace with the na’vi when the destruction and attacks were cut down by the RDA. So what if you were using him? In the end you were that one that was fulfilling his never ending lust.

You had relatively managed to clam yourself down, the pregnancy test weren’t false nor were they wrong. You were pregnant— that is a fact. Not once had you missed taking the pill— so how could this happen? Unless the pills were fake. You scrambled towards your room, searching aimlessly for the bottle of pills. Popping the cap bottle, the pills scattered across the floor. You analyzed each of the pills, nothing seemed wrong with them. Until the sweet sugary smell met your nose— they were placebos. They didn’t crumble with the slightest touch of pressure unless there was force applied. Sugar pills— they were sugar pills. You’ve been eating sugar pills for months.

Anger bubbled within your chest, how have you not noticed you’ve been eating sugar pills for months? You were an idiot— a fool— You had asked Miles for the pills seeing as you had no other way to get them. But for how long have you been a fool in his eyes? You trusted him— you never thought he would do something as vile as this. Either way, what’s done is done. There is no way to get out of this situation. It would be impossible to terminate this pregnancy— sure there were doctors stationed here in Pandora but they weren’t the type of doctor you needed. God knows they don’t have the necessary equipment either. Abortion isn’t possible— a miscarriage is possible but even than such a feat would be dangerous.

Tears blurred your vision, there was no way out of this scenario. You were stuck— and you refused to even entertain the thought of going to Miles. If anything he would be ecstatic of the news. It’s what he wanted— and he got it. He wanted a family and it’s now possible— he wants to be father. He is going to be father. But you can rob him of that experience— you can rob him of being present. And with that in mind you had decided there and than you would leave.

It wasn’t going to be easy— not with soldiers stationed at every corner of the building, being kept under his watchful eye was difficult to get out of. But that wouldn’t stop you from packing your bags. With your mind made up you had decided to flee— Grace was going to meet you at Site 26. But to get there you would need a chopper. Thankfully— Trudy had taken pity on your situation. She was someone you often confided in and was quick to realize the true colors of your relationship with the Colonel. Often— she would help in hiding you; away from his leering gaze. You were grateful for her help— knowing once the colonel caught wind of what you had done— and what she had done a punishment would be laid out for her ‘ insubordination ‘

Grace had welcomed you with open arms, ushering you inside as she rambled about her latest data collection. The place was in shambles to say the least— papers scattered across the floor and counters— it was Grace’s way of coping through her grief. Her wound was still fresh— unable to accepted what happened— the school was attacked by the RDA— ultimately resulting in the death of na’vi children. It was a difficult time for Grace— while you held no bonds with the na’vi you were still sympathetic towards them. But alas earth was dying and in need of resources fast— it was crue but it was to be done.

You settled down rather quickly, enjoying the beautiful scenery and the comforting presence Grace offered. You told her of your troubles; finding it difficult to keep it a secret. She was furious to say the least— insulted him with every curse she knew. A part of you was was overjoyed to see you weren’t alone in this situation; you had someone by your side — a part of you resented her for it after all none of this would of happened if it wasn’t for her

And she knew that— why else would she be so kind? The days had gone by quick— they were peaceful on your part. Morning sickness was a pain to get through— it left you exhausted and unable to cope with any other type of food that had a strong odor.

—

But the peace wouldn’t last for long— a chopper had landed near the site, a group of soldiers came rushing in with none other than Colonel Miles Quaritch leading his group of men. He had a mean look on his face, he stormed in; slamming doors against the walls. Grace was quick to stand up to your defense, a bubble of anger churning in her stomach. She despised him— oh how she hated him. She didn’t hold back on her curses, calling him every single profanity she could. She did anything to distract him from you— it’s the least she could

She was detained by his group of men, yelling her to calm down as she struggled against their cuffs. They dragged her off towards the chopper claiming Parker wanted to have a word with her due to her ‘ negligence’ You were alone now— with no one to protect you from the terrifying beast. A brief silence washed over, he kissed his teeth in annoyance ❝Found you— had me runnin’ around the base lookin for you ❞ his voice drawled out ❝— so, you what? Decided to run? Didn’t exactly think this through did you, Princess? ❞ his steps were menacing as he loomed over you. He cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone— an act of affection you were familiarized with. He gently coaxed your eyes to look up and meet his own— he looked relieved.

His other palm slid up your waist tugging you towards him. He tucked you underneath his chin, pressing against you— as if he was trying to mold your body to his. He relaxes for a brief moment of time, only able to calm himself feeling your warmth pressed up against his chest. His muscles loosen, eyes hazing; he wonders how things came to be like this— how he became like this. If you weren’t so supple and sweet— if you didn’t fit perfectly against him and make the prettiest of sounds for him— it wouldn’t of come to this. For a long time, there was a silence between you two. Then, he smiled, pearly white teeth shown, ❝ You know, for a while I thought it wasn’t gonna take, seeing as how many times my seed never took— but imagine my surprise when I find out you’re expecting— expecting my kid. My son— you didn’t exactly make it hard to find out ❞

His fingers pressed against your skin— bruising, almost, ❝you’re being an irresponsible mother to our son ❞ he hissed through his clenched teeth. ❝ Taken my son away from me— from his father ❞ You’re body trembled beneath his brushing holding, Miles notices it immediately; eyes softening in response. He releases a sigh; wary and tired— exhausted. A remorseful look crossed his face— but only a second; back to a stern cold look. He directly looks toward your protruding belly, his hand caresses your small bump— you have the urge to slap his hand away; to scream and yell. Do anything in your power to cause him harm, ❝ Things are going to change— starting with your attitude ❞

→ Tag List

@mechformers | @the-hufflebird-girl | @winxschester | @onlyreadz | @that-v03 | @dathomirian4 | @weasleytwinwheezes | @gatorgirl151 | @gryffinclawstuff | @drunkscientists | @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed | @misscaller06 | @dyingofcookies | @ornnhub | @blueberryera| @xoxotorri | @neytirisslave | @zeryodos | @gretesstuff | @netherklutz | @igakc | @whyyouhatemeeetmblr | @cavvedinn | @ok-boke | @avatarloversblog | @personaldemons-stuff | @buttercandy16 | @numarusworld | @smayhem | @heythere-06 | @sweetirilly | @starstruck-cowboy | @ducks118 | @neteyamsluvts | @anoungsoneandonly | @loveforfandomsstuff

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[lexirosewrites]

Slick Sunday ask-

I need more omega Eddie ask... Rejection sickness with Steve or Billy? Isolation sickness when Wayne has to go on a business trip and it gets extended and his heat hits? A false pregnancy(like the ones dogs go thru)?

I've been craving angst, I have no idea why...

ugh yes! omega eddie needs to be put through the ringer too!

personally love the idea that he’s more prone to isolation sickness because of his rough childhood. wayne may have nursed him back to health and gave him a pack to belong to, but eddie would still be more susceptible to getting it again later.

maybe wayne gets called away and it’s only supposed to be for a few days, but then they need him a little longer. wayne calls and asks if eddie can spend time with some friends and take care of himself and eddie lies and says yes.

most of his friends are away or busy, but he’ll figure it out!

only he ends up going into heat and he’s all alone and sad and in pain by himself.

but then maybe steve gets sent by the party to check on him when he doesn’t show up to DnD and he comes to the rescue as an alpha to take care of him and keep him safe and healthy💕

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 16

previous part | masterlist

synopsis: Baby Seresin-Kazansky decides to make her debut into the world. You tell Jake the reasoning behind getting the DNA test.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, CHILD BIRTH, blood, cursing, questions of paternity, mentions of infidelity, this is it. this is the end.

There was one thing that Jake hated being woken up by, and that was the sound of a barking dog. Herc hardly ever barked, unless it was at the mailman or at Fanboy (which they couldn’t figure out why). Jake had trained Herc to be a protector and knew that his barking was a sign of danger and trouble. Which was why Jake was confused when the dog burst into his room at 2AM and started barking up a storm. 

“Herc! Shut up!” Jake yelled, and grabbed a pillow to throw in his direction, but it didn’t deter the dog a bit. Instead, Herc jumped up on the guest bed and started nudging and licking Jake’s face, “No, Herc! Get down!” But Herc did not listen and continued to bother his owner until Jake completely sat up in bed, “What!? Do you need to go out!?” 

Herc jumped down from the bed and ran out the room, and Jake rolled his eyes. Of all days for Herc to wake Jake up early, it had to be on the one day he had off. Jake got out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt from the floor, throwing it on with just a pair of boxers on his lower half. He padded down the hall towards the stairs but instead of finding Herc waiting by the front door, he found him pacing around in the living room and you sitting on the couch. Jake quickly ran down the stairs, and over to you. 

“What’s going on?” Jake asked. 

You let out a low groan and Jake’s eyes widened. You leaned forward a bit and Jake grabbed your hands, giving you something to help ground you, until the contraction subsided, “I’m having contractions.” 

“Since when?” 

“Uh,” You looked at the large clock above the fireplace, “Two hours now.” 

“Two hours!?” You winced at the sound of Jake’s voice, “Why didn’t you get me sooner? Why did you send Herc?” 

“Didn’t want to bother you,” You said and Jake frowned. 

Things had still been plenty awkward between the two of you. Even though you two had the results of the paternity test, things still hadn’t patched over. You still hadn’t told Jake one hundred percent of why you had the test done behind his back, and Jake frankly could not find it in him to care. All that really mattered was the truth had been found. 

“Ah, fuck, Jake,” You cried again as the searing pain in your back returned. 

The whole night you had been feeling unimaginable pain in your back. You thought that it was just pregnancy pain, the general discomfort that came with being 40 weeks along. But then the pain started to radiate in your stomach, and you felt the skin get tight for about thirty seconds and subside. You knew then that this was just more than pregnancy pain, this was labor pain. You walked around your bedroom for probably an hour trying to think of what to do. You knew you should’ve woken Jake as soon as the pain started, but you didn’t want this to just be a false alarm, and he woke up cranky on his day off. Then you attempted to come downstairs and make yourself some tea, and that’s when the pain seemed to increase. You couldn’t make it back up the stairs, so you sent Herc to go get Jake instead. 

“Did you call the midwife?” Jake asked as you relaxed back into the couch after the contraction subsided. 

You shook your head, “The contractions aren’t regular enough to call her. It’s every twenty minutes or so. They need to be closer.” 

“Well then who do I call?” Jake was trying hard not to panic. No matter how many hours of those classes you and Jake attended, they can never fully prepare you for the real thing. He was usually mister calm, cool and collected in high stress situations but he was a bit out of his depth here. 

“No one, Jake, it’s two in the morning.” 

Jake chuckled a bit and shook his head, “Only our baby would start their descent into the world at two in the morning.” 

You looked up at Jake, a small smile on your face and he squeezed your hand. You opened your mouth to say something, probably to apologize, but you felt the sudden wave of nausea roll over you. Jake’s eyes widened, knowing exactly how to read your body language. He quickly jumped up from the floor and ran to the bathroom to grab the small trash can. Somehow by the grace of God, he made it back before you could vomit all over the floor. 

“I got you,” Jake rubbed your back as you got sick. He pushed your hair back behind your shoulders so it wouldn’t get puke on it. 

“You can go, I’ll be fine,” You groaned as you heaved again. 

“In sickness and in health,” Jake said and you glanced up at him for a moment. 

“People say that when they get married.” 

Jake nodded, “I’m aware. Do you want to lay down or keep sitting?” 

— — — 

The morning seemed to go by painstakingly slow. Neither one of you had gotten much sleep since being woken up. Your contractions were still far apart, which allowed you some time to relax and close your eyes, but the second the pain started up again, you were wide awake. Jake had waited until a later hour in the morning to call your mom and Alyssa, the two other people you wanted at the house when you gave birth. Sarah was a bit annoyed that Jake had waited so long, knowing that she wanted to be there with you to help you through the pain, but she could understand Jake’s logic. 

You were currently sitting on the exercise ball, Jake sitting on the couch behind you and massaging your shoulders. Alyssa had placed a box fan right in front of you, which was helping cool your overheated body. Your midwife, Connie, had arrived not that long ago to give you an exam and see how far dilated you were. Everyone thought you would be farther along than you were, but you were only three centimeters dilated and your water was completely intact. 

“Why is this taking so long?” You groaned and rested your head back against Jake’s chest. 

“I don’t know,” Jake said, and pushed some of the flyaways that fell from the braid your hair was in, “What do you need?” 

“I need a fucking sandwich,” You said and Jake chuckled, “Spicy Chicken sandwich from Wendy’s.” 

“Very specific,” Jake said and then looked at Connie, “Can she have that?” 

“I would stick to something with more nutrition and carbs,” Connie said and looked at the heart monitor. You looked up at Jake and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you could muster up. “But if she wants a chicken sandwich, I can’t stop her.”  

“Please?” You begged, “Your daughter wants it.” 

“Mhm, sure she does,” Jake said and reached over to the coffee table to grab his phone. 

“Who are you texting?” 

“Bradshaw,” Jake answered and you furrowed your eyebrows, “You think I’m going to sit in a drive through and miss any of this? He was wanting an update anyway.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek before speaking up, “You’re talking to Bradley?” Jake nodded. You thought that their friendship had been destroyed after the whole paternity mess. But it made you happy that they could put their differences aside and remain friends. Just like how you hadn’t been talking to Jake, you hadn’t really been talking to Bradley either. 

“He said he’ll be here soon with food,” Jake said and placed his phone back down. You sat up and Jake bent down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I’m gonna go wait in the kitchen, if you need anything just yell,” Connie said and left the two of you alone. You were thankful for Connie, she seemed to care for exactly what you needed at this moment. You shifted a bit to get more comfortable on the floor, and let out a sigh. 

“You never told me why you did it,” Jake said, brushing his fingertips up and down your arms as they rested on his thighs, “Why did you do the test now when you knew there was a possi-” 

“I never knew there was a possibility,” You said, “It never crossed my mind until your dad said something to me.” 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “When did he talk to you?” Jake was pretty much by your side the whole time his parents were around. 

“He called the night you were in the hospital,” You said. 

“What!? Where was I?” 

“Sleeping,” You sighed and turned your body to face Jake. His face was unreadable as he tried to process the new information.

— — — 

You always thought Jake looked the most at peace when he was sleeping. He was naturally beautiful, but when he was asleep and his features were resting, he looked like the real snow white. A beautiful sleeping prince. You gently ran your hand over the bandage on his forehead. He had already made a comment about seeing a plastic surgeon so he didn’t have a ‘scar like Potter’ on his forehead. But you didn’t care if he had a scar on his forehead, he was still beautiful to you. 

The shrill ring of his phone snapped you out of your daze, and you rushed to answer it before Jake could wake up. Your eyebrows furrowed at the caller ID, but you stood up quietly from your chair and stepped into the hallway to answer it. 

“Hello Mr. Seresin, it’s Y/N,” You answered sweetly, using your best teacher voice. 

“Hello dear,” Mr. Seresin said and you had to stop yourself from gagging. George always talked down to you like you were a young girl who didn’t know any better. “Where is Jacob?” 

“He is currently asleep. What can I help you with?” 

“I need to talk to my son.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Seresin, I can’t do that. But you can talk to me, since I know this conversation is probably about my daughter.” You could only imagine the fury in his green eyes at your words. You swore you could hear him clenching his jaw, and knew that the vein in his forehead was probably popping out. 

There was a beat of silence before Mr. Seresin spoke, “If you think that you are going to pass that bastard child off as Jake’s, you are wrong.” 

“This baby is Jake’s,” You sneered.  

“Are you so sure about that?” Mr. Seresin said and you gripped the phone tighter in your hand. You knew about his scare tactics. He had been using them on you since you met Jake. He had a way of playing with your head, getting you to believe that you weren’t good enough for Jake, “You two have been broken up for sometime. You really think that he hasn’t found solace in another woman. He brought a lovely woman named Jennifer home not that long ago to his sister’s birthday party.” 

You tried to let his words bounce right off your skin, but it wasn’t helping. You knew that Jake probably reverted back to his old playboy ways when the two of you broke up, but you didn’t like to think about it. You liked to tell yourself that he was just as miserable as you were when you broke up. You had spent every single night crying into your pillow. When you moved home, you didn’t leave your room for two weeks. It took Stephanie, Alyssa and your mother to help you get up from your bed because your body was just so weak. You had lost a ridiculous amount of weight from not eating and crying. 

“What are you trying to get at, George?” You asked, and leaned your back up against the wall. 

“Don’t you think for one damn second that I won’t take this case to court. I will sue you for all that you got for trying to defame my family name and ruin my son’s life.” 

“This isn’t ruining his life!” You yelled. 

“It will if he finds out that the baby is not his. If you want this to go away, you will get the paternity test done. Or it’ll be a long battle in court. And let the results come back a match for my son, we’ll fight you for custody.” 

You thought your heart was going to stop right then and there in your chest. Your throat constricted in fear as tears welled up in your eyes. George Seresin was not a man that you wanted to hear the words “will fight you in court” come from his lips. Because he meant it. 

He was notorious for suing people and winning. He sued his own siblings right out of their shares of the Seresin Ranch. He had high class lawyers, who would dig up and find any information they possibly could on you to use it against you. George had the power to swing the judges, to get in their ears and make them a friend for his side. And Jake was too scared of his father to be able to protect you. Your parents would do what they could, offer you their family lawyer and probably pay for it all. But you couldn’t risk them losing everything they had worked for. 

You swallowed hard and said barely above a whisper, “I’ll get the test done.” 

You could basically hear the sinister smile that stretched across George’s mouth through the receiver. You could only picture him snapping his fingers at some assistant of his to grab him a cigar and a glass of whiskey, as if he was celebrating some big win or stock investment. 

“Good, I know you weren’t that stupid,” George said, “Get the test done immediately and send us the results.” 

“Yeah,” You responded. 

“It is not ‘yeah’, it is ‘yes, sir’,” George yelled and you jumped at the sound of his voice, “Didn’t that flyboy father of yours teach you any sort of respect!” 

Your back straightened as you had tears rolling down your cheeks, “Yes sir,” You answered, “He did teach me respect. You will get the results as soon as I have them.” 

“Don’t fuck this up. Or you will never raise your child.” 

— — — 

Jake’s jaw was dropped as you leaned forward to throw up into the bucket again. He knew his dad was evil and vile, but he didn’t know that he was this evil and vile. The one time Jake made the comment about taking you to court for custody, he immediately felt guilty. The last thing he’d ever want to do is take a child away from their mother. He knew damn well he couldn’t raise a child on his own, his career aside, Jake didn’t know the first thing about babies. He blinked a couple times as the sound of you retching met his ears and he snapped out of his repertoire and rubbed your back. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jake whispered, and all you could do was nod as you waited for the nausea and the contraction to subside. 

“I need to stand,” Your voice was gravely from the acid you just spit-up. Jake moved from his spot on the couch, so you could turn on your hands and knees to stand up. However, you found the spot of laying your upper body on the couch very comfortable, “Nevermind, I’m staying here.” 

Jake chuckled, “Pretty sure that’s the position in how we got here.” 

“Jacob Thomas,” You gasped and looked over your shoulder at him. Jake laughed a bit louder as he came to kneel behind you. He gently grabbed your hips and pressed his hands to your lower back, applying counter pressure, “Fuck, that feels amazing.” 

“Yeah, you said that-” 

“Enough!” You giggled. 

“Sorry,” Jake said, and leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder. You had stripped off your shirt ages ago, and it lay somewhere in the living room. The only thing you were wearing was a sports bra and a pair of Jake’s boxers. 

You looked back at him, “Thank you for all this.” 

“Hey, I helped create her,” His large hands went to your bump, gently lifting it up relieving some of the pressure in your hips, “The least I can do is help you get through this.” 

— — — 

Bradley looked slightly confused as he leaned against the doorway. “Is she even human? I thought labor was supposed to be the most painful experience known to human history. . .how the hell is she asleep?” He looked at your sleeping body from the otherside of the living room. It was going on hour 10 of labor and you were exhausted. He and Ice brought food for everyone at the house, and the spicy chicken sandwich you had requested. 

When Rooster heard the news that you were going into labor, he had a hard time calming his nerves. He paced around his house for hours, waiting for an update. He got so antsy he decided to drive to Ice’s house. He was surprised to see Maverick there, but much like his godson, he was having a hard time keeping his nerves in check. Ice put the two of them to work, helping him fix up the backyard for the summer. 

“There’s a point during birth where the body and mind just get so tired that they shut down,” Connie explained, “It’s like a computer crashing when it gets overworked. She’s not in a deep REM sleep, but she’s resting. It’s good, saves her energy for active labor.” 

“I’m gonna go switch him spots,” Rooster said, and looked back towards the couch. Jake was watching the rise and fall of your chest, still holding your hand as you slept, “Give him a chance to eat.” 

Sarah nodded as Bradley walked into the room, and tapped Jake’s shoulder. Wordlessly, Jake stood up from his chair and hugged Bradley, before going into the kitchen to eat. Rooster sighed as he sat down next to your sleeping frame, and gently ran a hand over your belly. He was going to miss the sight of your growing bump, but he was going to love the sight of seeing your daughter even more. You started to stir, and Rooster sat up a bit straighter. A small whimper left your mouth and his eyes widened at the sight of your belly moving. 

“Ow,” You cried. Your eyes were still shut, but you reached a hand out towards whoever was sitting next to you. Rooster grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Breath, Bug,” Rooster said, “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” You nodded, eyes still closed as you took a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips. You took a couple deep breaths as you squeezed Rooster’s hand tightly. He wasn’t sure when you got so strong, but he thought you might break his hand. When the contraction subsided, you slowly fluttered your eyes open and looked at Rooster. 

“You’re here,” You said softly, and he smiled at you, “Did you-” 

“Your sandwich is in the fridge,” Rooster answered and you laughed, “In the most pain of your life and you still want food.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hungry girl,” You shrugged. There was a beat of silence between the two of you before you spoke up, “I’m sorry, Rooster. For everything.” 

“You don’t need to be apologizing,” Rooster said, “I should be apologizing to you. I haven’t made this easy on you at all. I love you Bug, I’m always going to love you no matter what.” 

“I know, Rooster,” You smiled and he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead, “Can you get me my sandwich now?” 

Rooster laughed and helped you sit up on the couch. Sarah brought in your sandwich, so you and Rooster can still have some time alone. Jake watched the two of you as you happily ate your sandwich. Over the past couple weeks Jake had come to the realization that nothing was going to take Rooster away from you and vice versa. Jake had once before learned to live with Rooster, and he was prepared to do it again if that was going to make you happy. That’s what he cared about more than anything, it was your overall happiness. 

Ice walked over to Jake, as he leaned against the door and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Jake looked up at him. 

“You’re a good man, Jake,” Ice said. 

Jake scoffed and shook his head, “I’m not a good man, Ice.” 

“Well, what do you call a man who stands by the woman who is carrying your child?” Ice asked. 

“A man,” Jake said, and finished off his cup of coffee, “Don’t have to be a good man to stand by the woman you love. Just gotta be a man.” 

Ice smiled to himself as Jake walked into the living room, and sat down on the other side of you. It was like deja vu, seeing the three of you sitting on the couch, fighting over the carton of fries. Sarah walked over to her husband and put her arms around his waist, and leaned into his side. Ice put his arm around his wife and pulled her in close. They were enjoying their last moments as parents before they became grandparents. 

— — — 

It was as if everything started moving at super speed. You guessed that the spicy chicken sandwich had done the trick, and your water had broken. And just as Connie had told you, everything started to pick up speed. One moment, you're laying on your side having Jake run his fingers through your hair, and the next you are starting to transition to get ready to push. Your water had broken all over poor Bradley’s shoes and he took that as his que to leave.

“Oh my god!” You groaned. You were on your hands and knees, Jake applying counterpressure to your back. Alyssa was helping Connie get the tub set up in the living room for you to get in. Jake was trying his best not to panic. 

“I know Y/N, but you gotta breathe through it,” Connie said, testing the temperature of the water, “Are you ready to move or do you want to stay where you are?” 

“I can’t fucking move!” You yelled, which was followed by a loud wail. Jake felt his heart breaking in his chest at the sounds of your cries. He never ever wanted to see you in any sort of pain, “Make it stop! Make it stop, please!” 

“Do you want to get in the tub?” Jake asked you, and you nodded letting out a shuddering breath, “Okay, let’s get you moved.” 

Jake helped you sit back on your knees as Alyssa stood in front of you and helped pull you to your feet. It felt like the baby had dropped even further into your pelvis as you stood. Jake helped pull the boxers down your legs and then you stepped into the warm water of the tub. You laid back against the side, feeling some relief from being in the water. Jake grabbed the bottom of his shirt to strip it off, when there was a knock at the door. 

“Who the fuck is at the goddamn door!” You cursed and Alyssa grabbed your hand, and placed a cool washcloth on your head. 

Jake ran to the door and opened it, his jaw dropping in shock. 

“Now is not a good fucking time, Margaret,” Jake cursed at his mother. 

“I-I know,” Margaret said, her voice shaky and unsteady. In his whole lifetime, Jake had never heard his mother’s voice be so unsure of herself, “Sarah texted me and told me that Y/N was in labor and I. . . I wanted to be here.” 

Jake looked over at you as Alyssa fixed your hair into a bun, and helped you adjust in the tub, “She doesn’t need you here. She doesn’t need the added-” 

“Jake,” You cried out, “Let her in.” 

You made eye contact with Margaret, and the woman looked like she was near tears. Jake looked from you to his mother, and stepped out of the way to let her in. 

“Don’t fucking say a word, or I’ll kick you out myself,” Jake threatned, stopping his mom in the doorway. 

“I won’t,” Margaret promised. 

“Jake! Get in here!” Connie yelled and Jake sprinted towards the tub, taking his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room. Alyssa and Connie helped you sit up, so Jake could climb into the water behind you. Margaret found a spot on the other side of the tub by Sarah. Your mother gave Margaret a small smile as she kneeled down next to her. 

“Alright, Y/N when you feel a contraction I want you to push and I’ll count to ten,” Connie answered, and you nodded. 

You took a deep breath as you felt a contraction ripple through your body, “Fuck!” You yelled, gripping Jake’s hands tightly. He helped you curl forward as you pushed. 

“-Nine, ten!” Connie said and you leaned back against Jake, already completely spent. 

You took a couple quick breaths as you prepared to push again. It felt like being ripped apart, as the baby’s head dropped lower and lower. You couldn’t even hear Connie’s encouragement, or Jake’s who was right in your ear the whole time. The blinding pain caused white spots in your vision. 

“I can’t. . .” You panted, as your mother wiped the sweat from your forehead. Jake kissed your temple and readjusted your grip on his hands. 

“You got this baby,” Jake encouraged as you felt another contraction. He helped you curl forward to push. A scream left your lips as you held his hands tightly. He buried his face in your hair, feeling tears in his eyes at hearing you scream in pain. 

“You’re crowning,” Connie said, “Do not push. You’re going to feel the need to push, but do not. You’ll tear.” 

“That’s fucking great, Connie,” You sassed, and you felt the rumbling of laughter from Jake, “Sorry.” 

“I’ve heard worse,” Connie smiled, “Just take deep breaths and let your body push the baby out. You’ll feel when her head is out.” 

“Mom, is she bald?” Jake asked and Margaret looked up at him in shock, “You said I was bald until I was two. Does she have hair or not?” 

Margaret looked at you and you nodded, before taking a quick glance and smiled, “She didn’t get your genes, that’s for sure.” 

You groaned, feeling a contraction, “Beg to differ, got his big ass head.” The pain was worse than when you were actively pushing. It felt like your body was on fire, and you couldn’t do anything but breathe through it. 

“Alright, next contraction, Y/N, you need to push,” Connie said and adjusted her position, sitting up a bit more. 

You looked up at Jake, and he nodded, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, “Bring our girl into the world. C’mon mama,” Jake helped you curl forward as you felt a contraction. 

“You’re doing good, sweetheart, keep pushing,” Connie said and you closed your eyes tightly. 

You were clenching your jaw so hard you were surprised you weren’t breaking your teeth. You had tears rolling down your cheeks as you pushed with all the strength you had left. You felt your blood rushing past your ears, the only thing helping ground you was Jake’s hands on your own. But then came a rush of relief, as you felt a small body being placed on your chest. You gasped, as if you had been holding your breath underwater, and leaned back against Jake, his large hands covering yours. Your mind was so overclouded with stimulation, that you couldn’t think of words to say, instead you turned your head to Jake, whose eyes were filled with love as he looked at the baby in front of him. 

“Did I just have a baby?” You asked and Jake chuckled. 

“Yeah, you did,” Jake said, tears in his own eyes. Your baby’s lungs were clearly working as her cries filled the room. You let out an airy laugh as you looked at her, seeing that she had a head full of hair and green eyes. Jake didn’t know that you could feel love at first sight twice in your life, but here he was, being proven wrong. 

Alyssa was in total awe seeing her best friend give birth to her goddaughter, and was already thinking of all the ways to spoil her. Sarah put his arm around Margaret pulling her into a hug, having shared the joy in watching their first grandchild being born. 

“Wren,” Jake said, and you looked over at him, “Wren Montgomery Kazansky.” 

“Seresin,” You added. 

“Now that’s a mouthful,” Alyssa said and you chuckled, and you looked down at your little girl. 

“But it fits,” You sniffled and ran your fingers over the dark hair on her head, “Wren Montgomery Seresin-Kazansky.” 

— — — 

You didn’t remember falling asleep, or much of what happened after giving birth. Your brain sort of turned it all off as you watched Connie give Wren her newborn exam, your mother helped clean you up a bit, and you fed Wren for the first time. Somehow you got upstairs to your bed, the soft glow of the lamp filling the darkened room. You groaned a bit, and looked around the room, spotting Jake sitting in the rocking chair. He was shirtless, holding Wren’s tiny body to his chest. You didn’t think she was little when you were delivering but seeing her in Jake’s arms she didn’t look real. She looked like a little babydoll with a cute button nose and chubby cheeks. Jake leaned his head down to kiss her soft head. 

“Is that Blackbird?” You asked and Jake looked up at you. 

He nodded, “Remember when you tried teaching me it on the guitar. You said it was one of the easiest songs to play.” 

“It is,” You smiled. Jake stood up from the rocking chair and walked over to you, sitting on the other side of the bed. Wren was sleeping, her beautiful little face completely relaxed, her little lips slightly parted. You didn’t know that you could fall in love with the noises a newborn made, but it was the best thing you had ever heard in your life. 

Jake had let everyone know that Wren was born and told them that he would let them know when they could come visit. You had a very strict rule that there would be no stopping by unannounced, and everyone respected that. Though you know that the dagger squad was itching with excitement to come see her, especially Bob, he loved babies. Your mother, Margaret and Alyssa only stayed for a little bit after the birth, all of them wanting to give you and Jake time to relax with your baby. Your mom was going to stay for a couple days as you and Jake adjusted to being parents. 

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked and you glanced up at him for a second too distracted by your little girl. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Y/N,” Jake gave you a warning and you looked up at him again, “How are you feeling?” 

“Still sore, incredibly freaking tired,” You groaned, “I’m also wearing a diaper so that’s super sexy.” 

“Matching with Wren,” Jake joked and you gently nudged him, “Are you in pain?” 

“Yeah, kinda. Connie said I'll feel cramping as my uterus shrinks. But right now, I’m hungry.” 

Jake nodded, “I can go fix you something to eat.You okay with Wren by yourself?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. She needs to feed soon,” Jake handed you the baby, making sure you were both secure before kissing your forehead and climbing down from the bed. 

Wren cooed in your arms, probably smelling the scent of your milk. You weren’t sure if there was a more perfect baby in the world than Wren Seresin-Kazansky. You gently ran the tip of your finger over her soft face, her eyelashes were fanned out over her cheeks. She looked so much like Jake. Margaret showed you a picture of Jake after he was born, and the similarity was uncanny. You watched as Wren’s face scrunched up and a small cry left her lips. 

“Oh baby, are you hungry?” You cooed and pulled the strap of your bra down so you could nurse her. Wren latched easily, her cries ceasing. Jake had made a comment the first time Wren latched about her being like her father, which earned him an eye roll. You gently patted Wren’s back as she nursed, “Blackbird, huh? Is that your nickname? Birdie?” Her eyes opened and looked at you for a moment, before they went closed again. 

“Please let it only be a nickname, I’m not sure if I can handle you being a pilot. But, you come from a long line of pilots. Your daddy, your granddaddy, your uncles. I might be outnumbered on that one.” You bent down to place a kiss on Wren’s forehead, “But whatever you want to be, I’ll be proud of you.” 

Jake returned back to the room with a plate of snacks and your water cup. You were placing Wren down in her bassinet, the little girl with a full belly and a clean diaper, all content in her swaddle. Jake wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get tired of the sight of you and Wren. He had already changed the background on his phone to a picture of you and her. Though, he was certain that if you found the picture you would tell him to delete it, but you looked amazing for just giving birth to a child. 

“How are my girls?” Jake asked, setting the plate of snacks on the bedside table. He gently helped you lay back in bed and adjusted the blankets around you, “Connie said that a heating pad might help you feel better with the cramp, and I got you tylenol. What time did Wren get done feeding? Do you need- why are you looking at me like that?” 

You were biting back a bright smile, “Your girls, huh?” 

Jake nodded, a smile on his own face, “Yeah, my girls. No matter what, you two will always be my girls.”

tag list: @materialgirl01 @cherrycola27 @love2write2626 @averyhotchner @xoxabs88xox @nagygreta @bioodforbiood @violyn20 @abaker74 @misshoneypaper @callsign-joyride @auroraboreallisfine @thedroneranger @rosewritesitout @nobody7102 @bradleybeachbabe @wildxwidow @cm27078 @caitsymichelle13 @whisperofsong @bonitanightmxres @maverooster @mizzzpink @khaylin27 @shawnsblue @shelbycillian @sexualparkour @thenewdaysalreadyhere @fandom-princess-forevermore @double-j @momc95 @buxkybarnez @paige-alexandra-may @coffeebooksandfandom @86laura11 @some-lovely-day @ohemgeewhat @itsmytimetoodream @emmaelix @springholland @atarmychick007 @okiegirl24 @i3k2ts @happierbelle @celestialeviereads @kandierteveilchen

note: there will be an epilogue. . . eventually. but like the rest of my characters I can't say goodbye to Lil Kazansky, Jake and Wren quite yet and I love the asks about their dynamics so keep sending them in! thanks for all the love <3

[riley-coyotl]

Hello! I saw a post about your dog recovering from ovary-sparing spay and as someone else interested in this route, I am curious what made you choose it.

Sure, I'm happy to explain! :)

So, especially if it is done earlier in life, there are a lot of health concerns associated with traditional spaying (orthopedic issues, urinary incontinence, even certain cancers,) as well as behavioral ones. Of particular concern to me, more and more data is showing an association between spaying and increased anxiety-related behaviors... Which, for Juniper in particular as an already anxious dog, I really did not want to risk making that worse for her.

The timing of spaying is however a balancing act with the increased risk of mammary tumors (early spay reduces the risk for this.) So it's kind of a tough balancing act and a really personal decision, but for me, I feel it's better to wait to spay until maturity, for both physical health and mental maturity/behavioral issues. For most breeds of dog this would be around at least 1.5 to 2 years of age.

That said, the increased risk of mammary tumors seems to rise quickly with the first and second heat cycles, but then pretty much plateaus around that point. In other words, doing a traditional spay on a dog 2+ years old is unlikely to reduce their risk of mammary tumors. (During my research I also found a bit of conflicting data about the conventionally accepted information on mammary tumor risk, which gave me even further pause in accepting that keeping a dog intact increases risk as much as we've assumed it does.)

So, since my only real remaining health concern with a completely intact female dog is first and foremost pyometra (infection of the uterus, which is not an uncommon condition and scares the crap out of me,) and of course, risk of pregnancy (I feel confident in my own management and don't even have any male dogs living here anymore, much less intact ones, but crazy accidents can always happen, male dogs can be VERY determined...) Ovary sparing spay takes care of both these concerns (a proper OSS that removes all uterine tissue + cervix should carry no risk of "stump pyometra") while avoiding any of my concerns with traditional spay.

Also, some dogs do seem to struggle/not feel well during heat cycles (which, since Juni still has her ovaries, her body will still go through heat cycles, she just can't get pregnant and will probably not have any bloody discharge, but if she does it will be reduced,) or have distressing false pregnancies etc. But Juni has none of these issues and her heat cycles are easy on her and not stressful. So I wasn't concerned about that either.

So that was our logic for the decision! Personally, unless and until there is further research definitively conflicting with the conclusions I've drawn about this, I intend for all of my future dogs to have an ovary sparing spay vs. traditional spay (full ovariohysterectomy) done.

(In addition, ethically I just don't jive well with the idea of surgically altering an animal if it's not necessary/not to their benefit (e.g. things done purely for aesthetic, or done largely for human convenience, etc.) In many countries, routine spay/neuter is practically unheard of--it's really only here in the United States that the general consensus is that spay/neuter is the objectively correct and responsible choice... And, while this is a bit more personal and emotionally driven, I have had an ovary sparing spay done on myself and have had a really great experience with it and the outcome for my own body, and I feel like it is intuitively correct that keeping our bodies working hormonally as naturally as possible is just...typically healthier and better for us. I wasn't going to remove my own ovaries for the health risks and other effects that would have on me, so I didn't want to do that to my dog either. I wanted to give my dog the same healthy outcome I wanted for myself.)

I hope that helps! :) And if you are interested, here are a few studies that I read during my research that helped me reach my decision: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

[cluz1babe]

"Open My Eyes..." Chapter Three

🌶️ = Smut | 🍭 = Fluff

(very limited use of ‘Y/N’) 3,881 words Beta Read and co-written by my husband.

Comments are very appreciated!

Recipe is mine.

PLOT

You were a Belaerys, with the Blood of Old Valyria in your veins, future Queen of Sothoryos. Up until eight years before the Dance of Dragons, everyone thought the Belaerys family was gone after the Doom. You were well-respected by everyone except most of the greens. Despite that, you were officially given a seat on the new High Council. The Hand, Otto Hightower, was trying to bring more countries to their aid, but his excuse was to bring peace between countries. Planning to wed you to Daeron, the Small Council of the Greens are shocked when Aemond refuses to offer you Daeron in order to take you for himself.

TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 129-133+ AC (a mix of show & book timeline & canon, plus my own)

TRIGGER WARNINGS (full story) : Talk of Abortion, Emotionally Abusive Relationships (Aegon / Criston / Otto x Everyone), Alcohol, Blood, Blowjob, Branding, Bullying, Childbirth, Mentions of Rape (no rape of reader) , Death, Drugs, Fire, Hallucinations, Incest, Marriage, Misogyny, Pregnancy, Profanity, Sexism, Slut Shaming, Smut, Violence, War, P in V, Sex, Fingering, No Cheating, MDNI, 18+ , ENM (Ethical Non-Monogamy), Slight Breeding Kink, Dub-Con (in the Aegon Bonus Chapter) if you squint

From what I can remember about how to pronounce Nahuatl, you pronounce ‘X’ as ‘SH’, and pronounce every letter except ‘H’.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Aemond spent the next few weeks following you around like a puppy, though he tried to hide it and his natural swagger helped. That and his actual dog which followed him everywhere. That isn’t how he saw it, but Aegon frequently teased him about his newest interest. You, on the other hand, were still unsure of his intentions since you still hadn’t talked about the kiss.

You and Aemond were walking to the library together. You had just finished training and Aemond was teasing you about your fighting style. “I wouldn’t say you fight in a…conventional way.”

You knew what he was really saying, which made you sigh. “You can fight to live or you can die honourably. At least I’m ethical.”

“Hmm. How’s that?”

“I give my enemy a quick death.”

“I haven’t killed anyone, yet.”

“Try not to look forward to it.” You looked at him, “It isn’t what the songs and stories make it out to be.”

Later, you were both sitting and reading when Aemond suddenly broke the silence. “What age did you first ride?”

“I was eight when I rode my first dragon, Gaelithox.”

You traded stories. Your favourite was how and why Aemond got the sapphire for a false eye. You frequently rode your dragons together. He was only soft and gentle with you, not counting when you trained together. His tenderness towards you was evident to everyone. Soft whispers and stolen glances at meal times did not go unnoticed by Otto.

You didn’t see Aemond that next night at supper, but you had made some soup because you were feeling homesick. You needed to see Aemond and talk about the kiss, so you came up with the excuse to bring Aemond some food, as he’d not come to supper nor did he request anything to eat. You stood staring at his door as though you’d lost your wits. What were you going to say? It was a mistake? Should you apologize again? You knocked and waited, hearing a shuffle and a muffled, ‘Come in.’ You walked into Aemond’s quarters and sat down the tray at his table. It had a bowl of soup, along with bread, cheese, and a fruit.

He perked at your presence. “What is this?”

“It’s cactus soup.”

“Really?”

“It’s edible, I promise. I made it myself. It’s from the prickly pear cactus. There are two of the pears, right here.”

Aemond straightened at that, tossing one of the many scrolls on his desk aside. You had cooked?

“It’s not much, but you didn’t come to dinner—“

“No, it’s great.” He sat at the table and pulled up an extra chair. “Sit? Please.”

You did as he asked. He loved your soup and ate every bit. He hadn’t eaten all day and your meal hit the spot. You traded stories and bonded while he ate, but it was an hour later and you knew your friend Jaera would like to get her rest. You had completely forgotten why you wanted to talk to him. “I’m afraid I’ve been keeping you from something important that you would like to get back to.”

“Not at all, really. Just reading announcements.”

“Still,” you stood up to leave. Aemond softly took your hand, but you worried. “The hour grows late.”

Though Aemond wished you would stay, he knew you were right. It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to be visiting privately so late. “Have a good evening.” He let you have your hand back and you continued on your way.

CACTUS SOUP W/ CHICKEN

INGREDIENTS

1 large soup pot

1 1/4 cups chopped white onion

1 cup diced bell peppers

1 tablespoon oil

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 habanero chili, seeded and minced

1 pound tomatoes (2 large), cored, peeled, and chopped (or 15oz of canned crushed tomatoes)

1 1/2 cup Nopalitos (cactus)

2 quarts chicken stock

1 teaspoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican oregano if you have it)

1 teaspoon salt, more to taste

1 1/2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken thighs

1/3 cup lime juice (from 2 to 4 limes, depending on the size)

1/2 bunch cilantro, roughly chopped

——————

1 1/4 cups chopped white onion

1 cup diced bell peppers 

1 tablespoon oil

Sauté. Cook until peppers are soft and onions are translucent, about 8 minutes. 

——————

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 habanero chili, seeded and minced

Add the garlic, minced habanero, and cook 2 minutes longer.

——————

1 pound tomatoes (2 large), cored, peeled, and chopped (or 1 cup of canned crushed tomatoes)

Add the canned (or  peeled chopped tomatoes) to the onions. 

——————

1 1/2 cup Nopalitos (cactus)

2 quarts chicken stock

1 teaspoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican oregano if you have it)

1 teaspoon salt, more to taste

Add the stock, oregano, Nopalitos, and one teaspoon of salt.

——————

1 1/2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken thighs 

After simmering 15 minutes, adde Chicken and cook 10-15 minutes.

——————

  1/3 cup lime juice (from 2 to 4 limes, depending on the size)

  1/2 bunch cilantro, roughly chopped

After removing pot from heat, add the lime juice and cilantro.

Aemond stirred as you snuck into his room through a secret passage. Jaera had told you about this one in particular, with a wink. He sat up and watched as the tiny flame danced around the room. “Who is it?”

You moved the light to show your face clearly. “It’s me.” You set the candle down on his desk. Then you turned to him in bed and began to pull your nightclothes down, but you paused because it looked like his one remaining eye was going to pop out of his head. “Is this okay?”

“Princess… What about your virtue?”

“I haven’t been a maid since I was fifteen.”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed at your confession. He was happy the room was dark so you couldn’t see. “Princess…” He couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t a virgin, but the sight of the woman who had been on his mind, standing in front of him, asking if she can fuck him? Was it another dream like the other he’d had of you? “Princess, the small council has decided to offer you an engagement to Daeron.”

You giggled at the way he sounded when he told you. As though he needed to get it out of the way. “I know.”

You were really offering yourself to him. Not because he was paying, he hates paying for it. It wasn’t because he was a prince; you were a princess and would most likely marry a prince or a king. “Say that you want me and not my brother.”

“I want you. Not your brother. Either of them.”

Aemond silently nodded, so you continued until you were fully exposed in front of him. He swallowed thickly and already felt himself growing hard. Could he really be this lucky? Was he soon to be inside of you?

You pulled his sheets away (of course he slept in the nude) and you straddled his lap. He had forgotten about his eye patch and covered his sapphire eye with his hand, but you put your hand on top of his. “Let me see.” You kissed his face, where you could see his scar still.

“You’re not disgusted?”

You gave him a gentle smile, “You can see my scars.” Indeed, you had battle scars along the front of your body and on your arms. You kissed the hand covering his eye, then you sat back. “I didn’t think you were so uncomfortable with it. I’ve heard stories about you showing it off—“

“Oh, you’ve heard stories, have you?” He removed his hand. His body was tense, teeth clenched. He was defensive as you looked at his beautiful sapphire. “I’ve heard stories about your people, too. Whores, the lot of you. Taking multiple lovers. Interbreeding with the savage natives of Sothoryos—“

You pushed him down. “Never,” your nails dug into his chest. “Speak of me or my people or my famly that way again.” You pulled your hands away, slowly. “The natives aren’t what everyone says they are. Not all of them.” When you felt him relax, you noticed his hardening cock under you. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’ve seen lots of things on the battlefield, and before, and after.” You kissed him, “But…” You touched your cheek to his. “I have never seen anything more beautiful than your face. All of it.” You slowly lifted your hand, long enough for him to stop you, but he didn’t. First, following the scar from top to bottom, then you kissed under his false eye. “Ketsaltik.” (‘Handsome.’)

His finger followed a scar on your shoulder.

“I didn’t come in here to start an argument.” You kissed him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth. “I came here because I want you inside of me. Mitsnikneki nechiitik.” (‘I want you.’) You ran your fingers over his nipples, causing him to shudder. 

Aemond sat up again. His hands grazed up your thighs, “And you appear to know exactly what you want.” He squeezed the globes of your ass when he reached them. “And how to get it.”

“I only hoped you wanted me. I wasn’t sure after the day I was showing you the map.”

He held on to your hips, moving you to grind against him. “What would possibly give you that idea?” 

“The way you completely changed the subject after I kissed you. And before that, when you pulled away from me.”

“I wanted to kiss you too, but the small council decid—“

“Otherwise known as your family.”

Aemond sighed. “They wanted you with Daeron, and I was only doing what I thought was right for my family.”

“What’s right for you?”

“This.” He pulled you down and kissed you. Aemond bit at your earlobe and whispered, “Use me the way you envisioned when you thought of this moment.”

“My Prince.”

“Call me Aemond. Call me whatever you wish.”

“Okay.” You smiled and gently pinched his chin, keeping your fingers there as you spoke. “But I want you to keep calling me Princess.” Your hand traveled from his chin down to his groin. He was fully hard now, ready to be fucked, his one eye was dark & half-lidded. He laid back again and that eye closed when your hand wrapped around him firmly and you started pumping. When he finally looked at you again, you positioned yourself over him and you both watched as you sank down onto his length. His deep exhale told you how pent up he was. “Has it been such a long time?”

“I’m very particular. A woman has to pique my interest; keep my attention.” His grip on your waist tightened while you rubbed your clit. He watched as you pleasured yourself with him inside you, but not for long. He started by encouraging you up and down his length. You slowly ground into him and he grunted, “I’ve tried relieving myself, fighting, drinking, training, and nothing has felt as good as this.”

You whimpered as he sped you up. “You almost make it sound like it’s your first time.” He latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. Your fingers carded through his loose strands then you lightly pinched your pearl. “Mmm… But I can tell it’s not.” You moved your hips up & down, and he groaned. You looked into his eye as you sped up. Eventually, you were fucking him as hard as you could, your hips slammed into his. He thought he might explode when your hand went around his neck and you squeezed just enough to let him know who was currently in charge. “Who am I?”

He moaned as you slammed down on him. 

You were so close. “Tell me who I am,” you whined.

“My Princess.” He fucked up into you with the same ferocity.

While keeping eye contact with him, you gripped onto his shoulders and you cried out, “Fuck! Aemond!” It was like connecting to his soul. You were in a daze as you came and Aemond continued fucking you through your climax. He slowed down temporarily, while you came to your senses. You tried to help Aemond achieve the same end by speeding up again.

He pulled you in by your neck to kiss you passionately. “My Princess has a mouth on her.” He took over then, fucking up into you to chase his own high, but when he was close, he slowed down. “What about…” He could barely form any thoughts. “Baby…”

You slowed almost to a still. “I’m protected, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, I can finish you in other ways.”

“That’s best for now.”

You smiled and got off of him, crawling down his body. He looked down at you as you licked up the length of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head. “Princess…” His grip tightened as your mouth completely enveloped him and you started sucking. It didn’t take long to bring him his release. You swallowed his seed, making a show of it to tease him.

There was a comfortable silence  while you both caught your breath. He held you close to him and you both laid like that for ten minutes, cuddling. That was until you quietly got off of the bed. He watched as you picked up your shift and started dressing. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my apartments.” 

Aemond almost panicked for a minute. Had he done something to offend you? Should he have finished inside of you? “You don’t want to stay?”

You finished dressing then you kissed him again, making sure to linger at his lips. “In Westeros, it is already improper of us to do what we just did. I don’t want to press my luck.”

He kissed you again. Honestly, he meant for it to be quick, but it was as though the second his lips connected to yours, he was under some spell and it was 18 seconds later that you finally ended the kiss and parted from him. You left him satiated and sleepy, so he fell asleep quickly after your encounter. His worries over what would happen next could wait until the next day.

You stared at the ceiling of Aemond’s bedroom. It was the third such time you had done so, though you lost count of the times you’d been with Aemond. You stopped counting after five. You hadn’t planned to fall in love. You were lost in thought and worry about the future. Every day was busy, but most nights were for you and Aemond. Talking, cuddling, laughing, fucking… The two of you had created your own world inside of either of your bedchambers. Nothing else mattered. Not Aegon’s teasing of Aemond, not the politics that brought you to the table in the first place. You could get lost in each other and you grew even closer by sharing stories and secrets, and wishes for the future. The only problem was this: When you became Queen, you would have to marry to strengthen your alliances.

The tips of Aemond’s fingers grazed over your hip and up to your neck, then your chin. He turned you to look at him, “Marry me, Princess.”

“Hmm. Don’t get ahead of yourself, my Prince.”

It was silent for a moment then he spoke again, “May I ask how many lovers you’ve had?”

“Why do you want to know? Something been on your mind?”

“I’m just curious. It doesn’t bother me if I’m the fifth or 72nd, but I know I’m not your first.”

“Seven, now.” You looked at him. His face was unreadable. “Does that shock you, My Prince?”

Aemond dipped his head. There was a blush on his cheeks and across his nose. “I’ve only ever been with two women before you.”

“Why not more?”

“Interesting question.” He smiled at you. “It always felt wrong.”

“In what way?” You sat up. “Do you feel that way with me?”

“No, Sweetling.” He held your hand. “I don’t feel that way with you. Not at all. I can’t explain it, really. I just felt nothing with them, but with you…” He took your hands, “With you… I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”

“Careful. You’re awfully close to saying that you love me.”

He smiled at that, “Perhaps I do.”

“Aemond…”

“What would you say if I said I loved you?”

“I would say it back.”

“Avy jorrāelan.” (‘I love you.’)

You kissed him. “Nimitstlasohtla.” (‘I love you.’) 

He understood you. He kissed you so passionately that you started whimpering. You felt heat in your chest and groin. Then he stopped and you nearly pouted.

“Show me your home. Take me to Sothoryos.”

“I will.” You kissed him.

“Let’s have children together.”

“My Prince!” You playfully hit his chest, then you got close enough for his lips to ghost yours. “Convince me.”

Aemond got on top of you and nuzzled your neck. He knew you already had your answer, so he decided to tease you instead. “Say yes.” He bit at your flesh, causing goosebumps. “Say yes.” His fingers dipped into your seam, feeling his leftover spend and your wetness between your folds. He rubbed your pearl in torturously slow circles. “Say yes.”

“Y—yes. I will marry you—“ You keened as his finger sped up. “A—and have your ch—children, Aemond Targaryen.” You kissed him and wrapped your legs around his waist. “Avy jorrāelan.” You hadn’t noticed he was already hard, so when he started entering you again after finishing 20 minutes before, it took you by surprise. You gasped, “Aemond.”

He retracted his hips. “Did I hurt you?”

You smiled, “It’s not that easy to hurt me.” Your hands found his ass and pressed him further into you.

You talked about one of your ex lovers, someone you thought you might marry one day. “She sang to me.”

“If I knew singing to you would make you fall in love with me, I would have done it sooner.”

You laughed, “That’s not why I fell in love with either of you.”

“What, then?”

“With her we… It was her elegance and kindness. She used to be supportive, patient, and funny…“

“Hmm. You love her, still. I can tell by the light in your eyes when you talk about her.”

“I love who she used to be. I don’t love who she is now.” You took his hand. “Avy jorrāelan. (‘I love you.’)”

“Why did you leave her?” You were about to cry and Aemond saw it on your face. “What is it, sweetling?”

“I’ve been afraid to tell you from the beginning that, as Queen, I may need to take three husbands in order you produce enough heirs who may sit on the Camopaltic Throne from any alliances made. Because I still need to create alliances. Sothoryos is less peaceful than Westeros.” As usual, Aemond’s face was unreadable. “I will do everything in my power to make sure that I don’t need to take another spouse, because I only want you.”

“No, Princess…” He calmed you down before you started crying. “If it’s something that you need to do, you should still marry and produce heirs.”

“I can have heirs with you.”

He gave a gentle smile at your insistence and took your hands in his. “We will be okay, my love.” He kissed you. “I love you and I know you love me. Nothing can take away from what we have.”

“Are you sure?”

“I cannot lie to my betrothed… I may get a little jealous, but it would be difficult not to.”

“This does mean that you can have other wives.”

“Why would I want someone else?” He kissed your neck. “I have you.”

“When you can’t have me.”

He looked at you, “Do you plan on being away from me for long periods of time?”

“Sometimes. Is a few moons long to you?”

He shook his head. “We can discuss that if it ever happens that I find someone I am interested in.” You laid together in silence for a bit before he spoke again. “How does the Sothoryi kingdom work, exactly?”

“It’s similar to Westeros, except the people are more involved. There is the Crown and the thrones of kingdoms that we bring into the fold. There is a peace between the Crown and everyone else, but there is a lot of fighting between thrones. If we bring them into our family, they become an extension of the Crown. The King or Queen makes the final decision in all matters, but we have what we call ‘Kuautitlahtokalistli’ (‘Great Council’) with 138 members, currently. There are the base members of our own Great Council, followed by representatives of each throne. Those are the basics of our government. ‘Exactly’, is a little complicated. Loicato is the King’s Landing of Sothoryos.”

“You’re on this council?”

“Yes. As the heir, I have to be on the council. I was chosen when I was seventeen.”

“What about your siblings?”

“I didn’t ask for it. My father was ill for a while, so there was a meeting of the Great Council. I was chosen to be the next Sothoryi Queen and my father is the one who convinced me to accept.”

“What if none of the children want to be the leader?”

“It’s a similar process.”

“What made you fall in love with me?” He returned to the subject.

“Well…” You scooted closer and kissed one of his calluses. “I love that you’ve been very generous with your time.” You kissed his palm. “And that you’ve been very generous in bed.”

He knew you were being purposely joking with that comment, but he had hoped for more than that, too. “That’s what you’re concerned about as far as love goes?” 

“No, my sweet summer child.” You turned onto your stomach and kissed his shoulder. “I love how devoted you are to your family, even though sometimes that makes me feel like I’m coming in between you. I don’t want to come in between you and your family. It doesn’t end well, and I’m speaking from experience on your side of things.” Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him. “Let me finish.” He closed his mouth, so you continued. “I love the way you fight, not how good you are, but how well you assess an opponent. You match them, almost perfectly, because of the way you dedicate so much of your time learning and practicing your skills. It’s magnificent and I’ve never seen anything like it. And, speaking of learning… I love your mind. You read all the time, and your mind seems to absorb the information on those pages like a cloth. I would have to study for hours to know what you know. Sometimes I wish I could see what’s in there.”

He looked away from you. “Trust me, you don’t what to see what’s in here.”

“Yes, I do.” You turned his face to you. “I want to know everything about you.”

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EPILOGUE

TAGLIST

@ilikechocolatemilkh

SERIES MASTERLIST

[crowtrobotx]

Happy Father's Day only to Karl Heisenberg. I wrote a little oc x canon ficlet this morning to deal with some ~feelings~ and I thought maybe someone might also enjoy it. This can be considered a Check Engine-AU-AU, lol, otherwise known as "Mechanic!Karl no Village." Word Count: 2166 Warnings: Nothing significant but if the subject of pregnancy isn't your thing you probably won't have a good time. ~~~~~~~~ Come on. Where are you, jackass? Kris’s fingers fidgeted nervously with a loose thread at the hem of her dress, eyes laser focused on the empty driveway from her perch on the living room couch. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck beneath the wild tangle of curls in spite of the air conditioning, cranked a rebellious one degree lower than normal out of desperation. She winced. That singular digit might have been the only thing that was preventing her from hurling onto the freshly cleaned hardwood floor.

It was a deceptively lovely summer day outside, the only hint of how truly unpleasant the weather was buried somewhere in the incessant screaming of the cicadas crawling all over the trees that enveloped their property. The heat waves radiating from the asphalt made her feel lightheaded just looking at it - how Karl worked in that stuffy garage all day, in those frustratingly attractive coveralls, without passing out was a mystery to her even after all these years. Maybe he finally did die of heatstroke. Would explain why he’s late, today of all days. Her stomach churned miserably.

She knew she was taking this all far too seriously. It didn’t have to be perfect - she could just tell him outright, like a sane person, but unfortunately she’d gone on Pinterest one too many times over the last couple of days in an attempt to quell her bubbling anxiety and it had all gone to shit from there.

Maybe it was how unexpectedly long it had taken. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d finally convinced herself it wasn’t actually a dream, that it was really happening and she wasn’t going to wake up in a cold sweat. Regardless, she’d put a silly amount of effort into this already - and spent her coffee money at the dollar store - so dammit, it had to turn out cute at the very least. She smoothed out the black linen fabric over her belly, hand lingering a moment longer than normal.

The glint of a windshield from the road had her sitting up like an excited dog. Sturm, snoring away on his well-chewed pet bed to her side, didn’t react at all. She’d been faked out by a school bus once already, but the harsh rattle of the perpetually fucked muffler on Karl’s impossibly old pick-up was, for once, like music to her ears. The truck rolled into view, prompting Kris to shakily rise to her feet and make for the kitchen.

“Okay,” she exhaled slowly, trying to steady the flutter in her chest. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s going to be fine.”

The outfit: adorable. The setup: in place. The lines she’d rehearsed in the lukewarm bath this morning until she’d gone hoarse: memorized. She could not fuck this up - if she did, she might simply melt into a puddle with all that remained of her being a pair of cartoon blinking eyes.

Get your shit together. These things never go as planned. He’s going to know something is up because you’ve been home alone all day and you did your hair and makeup instead of embracing the slug girl aesthetic, anyway.

Kris grimaced at her own inner voice, ceding that perhaps it was correct. She awkwardly milled about the room: leaning on the counter, deciding it looked too suspicious, picking up a knife, deciding it looked too insane. Footfalls growing louder toward the side door had her panicked and she at last decided to busy herself washing out an already cleaned coffee mug over the sink.

You can do this. What did Linda call you last time you were in office? A boss bitch? Lull him into a false sense of security. Pretend like you’re a respectable housewife and not a foul-mouthed nasty bitch someone was stupid enough to marry.

The screen door banged open, its rusty hinges surviving yet another assault from her careless husband’s grip. The man himself finally appeared, his outgrown beard and wiry silver waves a total mess from the heat and his work. Still, he didn’t seem agitated - a good sign. Otherwise Kris would have put off her little plan until later, unwilling to take unnecessary risks with something so precious. This would be her Instagram-worthy moment, dammit.

“Honey,” Karl’s loud croon shattered the peaceful silence that had reigned all day, “I’m home!”

God, he was revolting. Kris couldn’t help but to set the cup down and nearly dash to his waiting arms. He caught her in a near crushing bear hug, looking quite pleased with her reaction. She saved the ooey-gooey greetings for special occasions - she couldn’t let the man get even cockier, after all, and she had a reputation to uphold.

“You’re sweaty,” she observed, head finding purchase on his chest all the same, finding comfort in the familiar. “And you stink.”

“Sure do,” he said with a little too much pride. He ran a hand - probably grease-covered, by the looks of it; thank God I’m wearing black - down her back and hummed thoughtfully. “But you, on the other hand, look cute as a button. What’s the occasion? Did I do something nice and not remember?”

Kris untangled herself from his grasp, trying her best to look disinterested and unaffected. With a wave of her hand she returned to the kitchen sink, this time feigning interest in putting away the dishes, and cast a lidded look at him over her shoulder. She hoped her concealer was hiding her heat in her cheeks and making her act more believable. “It’s hot and I got bored,” she lied. Why do I feel like dragging his smelly ass to the floor with me right now?

Karl’s toolbelt hit the linoleum with a loud clang. In a couple of confident strides he was at her back, hands shamelessly trying to find purchase at her hips again. “Aww, did my girl get lonely without me? I can fix that for you, y’know… I don’t mind.” His fuzzy jaw nuzzled into her neck, the edges of his lips curling into a smarmy grin.

Of course - if one thing was going to ruin this, it would be the thing that had caused the situation to begin with: Karl’s dick.

Kris thwacked him playfully on the thigh with the nearest tea towel and rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the traitorous warmth pooling deep in her abdomen. “You know the rules. Not until you’re not going to stain my poor clothes with all those oil splotches. Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. She’d known him long enough to recognize false exasperation - he didn’t like messing up her pretty outfits, either. Karl turned to make his way to the bedroom when Kris caught his arm, putting on her best surprised face and tone.

“Oh! I almost forgot, can you help me out really quick? There’s something that needs to come out of the oven and I’ve got to finish this.”

“It’s ten steps away, doll- OUCH! You and that damn towel. Yeah, sure. One sec.”

Kris held her breath as he stomped across the room, rubbing his leg where she’d nailed him yet again. This was it. Her picture perfect moment. Even Sturm had managed to lift his greying head to peer curiously from the living room.

Karl opened the range. The singular honey bun sitting on the pain looked comically out of place, but that was the point - there was absolutely no way he could ignore it. Kris nearly shattered the dish in her hands, so tight did her fraying nerves make her grip.

“Oh, sweet,” Karl said, before picking the pastry up and taking a bite. “I was starvin’ after all those tire rotations today. Thanks!”

He resumed his trek upstairs, whistling contentedly. Sturm stared at her with a look that conveyed a sort of pity before resuming his daily 18 hours of beauty rest. Even the shriek of insects outside seemed to have dulled to a quiet hum out of respect for whatever remained of Kris’s dignity. She wordlessly placed the plate onto the counter, a mixture of resignation, rage, and outright bewilderment swirling in her chest.

He did not just do that. You hallucinated it in a hormonal fugue. There’s no way.

She had accounted for what she thought was every likely outcome. Unbridled excitement, tears, perhaps disbelief. Even that he would be angry - not truly angry, of course, but it was the emotion he defaulted to whenever he wasn’t sure how to handle whatever feelings were rushing through him, however positive.

She had not, however, considered the possibility that he was more stupid than the bag of hammers hanging above his workbench.

“Karl,” she croaked out just as he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

He paused and peeked his head around to face her, crumbs somehow already decorating his beard. “What?”

Kris flexed her fingers and inhaled slowly to steady her voice. “Could you come here again please?”

When Karl returned to the kitchen, it took everything in her not to throat-punch him. He was simultaneously the smartest and dumbest man she had ever met - in spite of his horrific personality, everyone in town came to him for their mechanical needs because absolutely no one knew their way around an engine like he did. And yet here she was, trying to convey an extremely obvious plot twist to absolutely no avail while he stuffed his face.

“Can you tell me what you’re holding?” she asked, the strain in her tone causing her voice to sound unnaturally high.

Karl swallowed. He rotated the bread, eyeing it somewhat nervously as if he feared it might now explode. “It’s… a roll?”

“Well… some might say a bun.” Kris was getting desperate. Her new favorite hobby of vomiting was feeling like more and more of a possibility with every passing second. At least it would get her out of this situation.

“A bun,” Karl repeated.

She waited for him to do the math before giving in to his helpless, slightly annoyed look.

“Yes. A bun. From the oven.”

“That’s usually where they come from, babe. Did you hit that pretty little head of yours while I was at work today or what?”

Another silence. Kris swore to herself that she was going to throw this man through the second floor window.

“You found the bun…” Kris gestured, indicating that she intended him to finish her sentence.

“In the oven,” they both said at once. For a brief, tantalizing moment, Kris thought it had finally worked. She had been fully prepared to snatch the little wrapped test hidden in the utensils drawer and gift it to him in a sickeningly sweet gesture worthy of a Hallmark movie, until she noticed the completely clueless look on his face hadn’t yet retreated.

Are you fucking-

“Was it not for me?” Karl ventured at last. “Uh, s-sorry. Guess I shoulda asked. I can get you another one at the corner mart on my way home tomorrow if you want.”

“I do not want a gas station dessert, thankyouverymuch,” Kris hissed. The thought of what Karl-tier food might do to her already compromised digestive system sent a shiver down her spine. “I am trying to- you know what, never mind. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Ohhhhh,” Karl suddenly cooed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to peck the tip of her nose. “Wait. I get it now.”

Cautious relief relaxed Kris’s shoulders. She batted her lashes at him and made a soft questioning sound, feigning innocence.

“You want a new oven. Why didn’t you say so? I got enough parts in that shed out back to make you ten if you want. Anything for my gal!” Karl’s grin was begging to be slapped right off his stupid, handsome face.

Instead, and with all the strength she had in reserve, Kris simply shut her eyes and lightly patted her husband’s chest. We’re going to call this a practice run. That’s all. “A new oven would be lovely. You’re the best, Heisy-bear.”

Karl winked before happily popping the rest of the bun in his mouth and reclaiming his usual air of off-putting flirtatiousness. 

“You know it is kinda weird that you just made one,” he spat around the mouthful as he patted her cheek. “But I know you don’t like summers, pumpkin. Fries your brain and makes you do weird shit. ‘S okay, I still love you”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Kris waited until he was out of sight before allowing herself a brief, silent scream into her palms. Sturm hobbled into the kitchen at last, his three paws tapping rhythmically as he presented her one of his well-loved chew toys as a kind of consolation prize. She sighed, and at last allowed herself a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Thanks, boy,” she whispered, bending to scratch the dog’s velvety ears. “Well, time for plan B, I suppose. Do you know where I can buy a mini toolkit?”

[delicate-luv]

Two Become One ~ Chapter Two

Summary: The morning after a night spent with Eddie, your suspicions begin to rise on who he really is.

CW: 18+, MDNI, one night stands, cheating, mention of miscarriage, mention of pregnancy, home wrecking, minimal use of Y/N, fem!reader,

Masterlist

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You rubbed your eyes that morning, not recognizing where you were. You had a pounding headache and never felt more like a zombie in your life. You let out a loud groan as you flipped onto your other side, making the whole bed shake.

'Shit. I should not have done that.'

You regretted doing that as soon as you heard the man next to you yawn and slowly sit up.

"Woah. Who the fuck are you?" He jumped up, seeing a mysterious woman in his bed.

"I'm y/n. I was at your show last night. You invited me here.”

He put his palms over his face. "Oh, shit."

You could tell he suddenly remembered what happened by the way his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and he sighed. "You should leave. I should have never brought you here."

"Huh?"

"You can't be in here? I have- never mind. Anyway, you have to leave, now." His tone becoming more of an alarmed one.

He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. You chased after him. "What are you talking about? You gave me a cigarette with your number on it." What was so urgent? What is he hiding? Your hangover could wait.

"Wait, what? I only give those out to fans who think they'll have a chance with me. They call me, and I never answer. It's only to instill false hope that I'll sleep with them. I never actually sleep with them!" He became frantic, shoving a pair of black skinny jeans on, whispering yelling "shit!" and "fuck!" amongst mumbling other obscenities that you couldn't quite make out.

"What time is it?" He asked in a panic, slipping on a black tank top.

You looked at a nearby clock on the wall. "Just about 10 a.m."

"Son of a bitch! I have to go. You can find your own way out." He ran out the door, grabbing his keys and wallet.

The fuck was that for?

Before you wanted to even process that fact that you cheated on Ezra last night, you decided to do something even more morally wrong. You snooped around his apartment, trying to find pieces of his life. You needed to know more. He seemed too perfect. Not a single rockstar lives a perfect life and isn't hiding something deep.

The first place you looked was his nightstand. He had guitar pics lined up, a pair of die, some old photographs, a pack of condoms, nothing out of the ordinary. You then walked over to his closet. There was a shoe box filled with things that had 'Otis' written on the front in black sharpie. There was a hand drawn heart that was also on the front.

Your heart was telling you to rip open that box, and dig through the belongings. Your brain was telling you no, to give him privacy. You were always the person who did what your brain wanted, but in this case, you followed your heart.

The first thing you saw was a sonogram picture. You let out a loud gasp and immediately regretted your decision. You closed the box up quickly and ran out of his house. You called Scarlett to pick you up down the road.

You couldn't believe what you had done.

Half of the car ride home was spent with you staring out the window, rethinking the recent events.

"What's so bad? You were gonna cut things off with Ezra soon anyways."

"Scarlett, it's different." You groaned.

"How, exactly?"

"I snooped through his things." You said quietly, full of shame. It was just loud enough for her to hear.

"Oh my god!" She gasped. "You know that's top 10 things not to do during a hookup."

"I couldn't help it. There's just something that I saw in him."

"Yeah yeah, if I got a penny for every time you said that, I'd be rich right now."

"So, do you want to know what I saw?"

"Lay it on me. I don't think this story could get any worse."

"I opened a shoebox that has 'Otis' written on it. I just thought it would be like a box for a dog, because Otis is, like, a dog name. But no, there was a sonogram picture. I didn't take a good look at anything else but I could tell it was bad. There was a lot of light blue, which I'm assuming could be baby clothes, maybe a baby blanket?"

Scarlett slammed on the breaks, "Jesus Christ! y/n l/n is a home wrecker!" She broke out into laughter.

"Scarlett! It's not funny! I think I just had a one night stand with a man with a baby! He could even be married!"

"Was he wearing a ring?"

"He was wearing a lot of rings. I didn't get a good glance at his ring finger." You started to bite your nails anxiously. You knew you had to call the number on the cigarette.

You thought about Eddie and his situation for the remainder of the day. 'Was he married? Was Otis even his baby? Why didn't you see or hear a baby the entire night? Maybe he and his partner had a miscarriage? Is his partner pregnant right now? Why didn't he say something?' The many possibilities roamed your head and kept you up that night. You knew you had to do something to fix this mess you've created.

You were the girl all of the people in your town knew and loved. Your life was always the talk of the town. You had the perfect life, perfect boyfriend, perfect house, perfect friends, perfect clothes, perfect job. Who knew you would be the one to break up a family?

After a week of the thoughts eating you alive, you couldn't take it anymore. You dialed the number on the cigarette, but there was no answer. You knew what was coming, there was no other choice.

You drove over to Eddie's home. You needed answers. Luckily, you could easily find where he lived since it was the only trailer park in town.

When you arrived at his trailer, you slammed the car door shut. Anger fueled your walk to his front door. You were finally going to get the answer you deserved.

You banged on the front door multiple times until a voice could be heard from the inside.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, relax!"

He slightly opened the door, sighing in disappointment when he saw it was you, and slamming it back shut. Before he could get the door all the way closed, you stopped it with your foot.

"Eddie, we need to talk." You opened the door wider to reveal Eddie shirtless, and he was bouncing a 2 year old on his hip. You gasped. "Is this your-"

"Yep. Now what do you want?"

"Are you married? What was that one night stand to you?"

He shrugged. "Well, that one night stand to me, was a one night stand. I don't know what you mean."

"Are you married?"

"Not anymore."

Your mouth fell open. You immediately jumped to conclusions, thinking you were the reason they are no longer married. "Did I possibly...have anything to do with the fact that you are no longer married?"

He quickly denied. "No....I don't get it. Is there something important or...?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a son?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to tell complete strangers about my son." He said in his classic, sarcastic tone.

You were admiring his tattoos and his muscles for so long that you jumped out of the trance when his son started to cry.

"Are we done here? My son is hungry."

"Answer your phone next time and we won't have this problem." You said before letting the door close on him and walking away.