#healing after miscarriage
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wisterianwoman · 7 months ago
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I had a miscarriage... & it wasn't what I expected
There are billions of women who've experienced the pain of miscarriage. Often alone, in silence, and in shame. We don't talk about it. We don't share our stories. I don't want to, but I will. For our grief, and for anyone who it helps to feel less alone.
There are billions of women all throughout time who have experienced the pain of miscarriage. Often alone, in silence, and in shame. We don’t talk about it. We don’t share our stories. We don’t want to. I don’t want to, but I will. For our grief, and for anyone who this helps to feel less alone. the fear It was April 30th, and I had a feeling I was pregnant. Something about the way my body…
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atouchofflourish · 9 months ago
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Grieving Levi
What was true then is still true now. I’ve thought about writing this many times but I haven’t been able to sit down and clearly express my thoughts, memories, emotions, and revelations until now. I’m currently 3 months postpartum after losing Levi at 6 months (24weeks) pregnant. Surprisingly, most days I’m in good spirits. Of course, there are other days and moments where grief hits like a huge…
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styleanhairinspy · 2 years ago
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cant have side effects when you're vaccine free 😎
Put in the tags how you felt if you did get side effects
For example all the times i got my vaccines the injection site was really sore and hurt to the touch for 2 days but my brother got knocked flat by the vaccine"
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a-chaotic-dumbass · 1 month ago
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Another thing I love about the books is that so many of the diseases and injuries characters sustain have real life counterparts... tyrion's nose taking a long time to heal the scab and lysa tully likely having bpd and her miscarriages being caused by her botched abortion and Jon's age.... hoster tully's illness being very similar to cancer and greyscale being very similar to FOP and lord rosby's coughing being so similar to lung cancer or tuberculosis. khal drogo's death being caused by an infection and jaime nearly getting sepsis after the loss of his hand and rodrick cassel getting an infection after the altercation with the mountain clans... canonical gout in walder frey and doran martell gregor clegane's gigantism and chronic headaches and sweetrobin's epilepsy tyrion's dwarfism and bran's paralysis... say what u will about grandpa but at least george let's his characters be ill
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babygaybenson · 6 months ago
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You know, Emily’s love life is the only love life we haven’t seen in Evolution.
We got the Penelope, Luke, Tyler love triangle.
We got Rossi healing from Krystal’s death.
We got Tara and Rebecca being disaster gays
We got JJ and Will’s marriage going South West.
But nothing from Emily.
Until:
“I didn’t quit on you with Paris and you didn’t quit on me after my miscarriage”
“The job gave me you.”
Right there^ this moment, we saw a glimpse into Emily’s love life. She fell in love all over again. Everything she boxed up and avoided, everything she tried to stop from flooding out - that look on her face, omg it flooded. Babygirl got it bad.
I dunno I took melatonin to go to sleep and woke up to pee 6 minutes ago.
I ain’t got glasses on.
If they kiss, if they finally fucking kiss, the Twilight song “I’ve loved you for a thousand years.” Better fucking play in the background I stg
The quotes aren’t word for word I’m half asleep
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iheartcoffeecakesm · 1 month ago
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"Anything" 💙 Curly x Anya
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art credit: seagummies on twitter
warnings: angst, topic of miscarriage
this is a good ending au of mouthwashing! if u are a hater, then dni🥰 this post aint for u, babe
Chapter 1
Jimmy had been dead for the past few months due to the crash. The crew has been slowly rotting. They have lost all hope, and for good reason. Daisuke and Swansea are unconscious because of hunger and exhaustion. Curly and Anya are slowly losing grip. Despite all this, the beautiful glowing screen still showcased the moon and stars. Curly's hair sticks to his face due to anxious sweat. "Well, we had a good run. Didn't we." Curly smiled. Anya laid beside him and she smiled despite the tears rolling down her face. "Yeah." Curly's breath hitches "Anya... I'm-”
Curly opened his eyes with a jolt. There he was, in the hospital. His whole body was aching. A nurse walked over to his bed, "How are you feeling, sir?" His eyes widened harshly. "Where is my crew?" He yelled. "Are they okay? Is Anya alive? I never got to tell her I'm sorry!" Curly's heart beat spiked. Thinking about Anya's distressed face made him feel nauseous from guilt. He placed his head in his hands, as if grappling with reality. The nurse spoke gently to try and to calm him down, "Everyone is okay. Some are still waking up." He sighed, feeling relieved. A doctor came into the room. "How did we survive? How are we home?" Curly was more than shocked. The doctor walked up to him, holding his papers. "Another space ship found you guys. Some astronomers were on an expedition in the area. You all were very lucky they were out there." The doctor said, cracking a smile. Curly looked down at his hands. "What room is Anya in? If you don't mind asking." Curly asked quietly. The nurse responded, "Room 25. And this is 24." After doing some basic checkups, and giving him some medicine for the pain, the doctor and the nurse left. Curly laid there, alone with his thoughts.
A few hours pass by, and unable to just sit and do nothing, Curly sneaks out of his room. He finds Anya sitting down in the lobby. The moon light shining on her in her hospital gown. She looked tired as usual, and mentally drained, but she still smiled faintly when she heard his voice. "Anya!" He cried out, limping towards her. She looks up at him and smiles with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and cried. She held his head gently. "Anya... I-I I'm so sorry. I should have done something. You already had told me that you felt uncomfortable around him. I felt like I was losing my mind. I didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry that I made it seem like I didn't care. I care so much. I will do anything you want to gain your forgiveness. We don't have to ever talk again if that's what you wish. I'm so sorry, Anya." The words came out almost pleadingly, and rushed. He couldn’t hold back a sob. "Captain-... Curly. Our worst moments don't define us. I don't blame you for what happened, we were in the middle of space. But it will still take me a long time to heal. Thank you." Anya was always the more quiet kind. She didn't know how to respond. After several quiet minutes spoke quietly, "I lost the baby." Curly looks up at her, his eyes slightly wide. To not offend her, he asked honestly, "How do you feel?" Tears rolled down her face, as she stared at the ground. "Empty.”
In the morning, Curly and Anya met up with Daisuke and Swansea. It seemed they were recovering well. The crew all sat together in the lobby. It was surreal, everything felt so much lighter. Almost happy. "How are you guys doing? What do you plan on doing after this?" Curly asked. Daisuke's face lights up, "That was totally crazy! I'm happy we survived. I can't wait to see my mom." Swansea pops in, "Heh, It will be nice to be with my family again. No more pony express. I get to be a retired lazy old man!" Swansea chuckles. Anya and Curly look at each other smiling. It felt like a dream.
A few days went by, and the crew slowly recovered. Everyone was released from the hospital once they were fully recovered. Getting back from the hospital was refreshing. The sterile white rooms grew to be nauseating. He could finally go home. Curly pulled up to his home, the sight of his big white house with blue shutters made him smile. That company never cared. Some random astronomers were the ones who cared enough to save them. He was free from that stupid job. He hated being glorified, he soon realized. Curly felt like a monster after everything that had happened. His loving pet guinea pig was waiting for him in his bedroom. Curly’s mother would take care of her every day while Curly was gone. Whenever anyone visits, they are surprised that he has such a small creature when he's such a big guy. Almost every time someone says the classic "Wow. I thought you would have a dog of some sort, captain." He sighed and flopped on the bed but gently held Daphne. He felt so relieved to be home, after all this time. But every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see Anya's crying face
sooo this is my first fan fic ever that im gonna actually commit to😭 plz be patient. also, im gonna try to write the miscarriage plot as realistic as possible. i have had multiple friends and family that have suffered from miscarriages
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myladysapphire · 5 months ago
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The Dragon and the Wolf (III)
You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.
word count: 2,291
CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, depression, mentions of miscarriages, stillbriths, love confessions, family reunion, marital difficulties, angst, not proofread!
Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader
Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part
dividers by @zaldritzosrose
authors note: the timeline does not follow the book so don't come for me for changing things. sorry if this seemed rush honesltyi dont like it but i think it works well and makes a good chapter to lead into the epilouge.
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In the year of 134AC, 3 years after the end of the dance of dragons, and three moons into your marriage with Cregan stark you finally made your way to kings landing after years apart from your beloved brothers.
Viserys and Aegon were no men almost grown, with Viserys a wife and child on the way and Aegon, now married to Daenaera Velaryon, though their marriage remained unconsummated.
The reunion had been a sad one, with many tears shed as you finally saw your brothers after years apart.
“Aegon! Viserys” you cried out as you ran out of the carriage to greet your brothers, your arms wrapping tightly around them, scared to let them go. Tears filled your eyes as you kissed their cheeks.
“I have missed you so dearly” you said to Aegon before looking over at Viserys, your mouth stuttering as you tried to find the right words “Vizzy, I have…oh gods-“ you cried out pulling him in for a hug once more “your all grown up!” you said, “a man grown” shaking your head as you hugged him closer.
He cried on your shoulder as you did, his arms never leaving you even as you introduced him to Cregan.
“This is Cregan…my husband, and the new lord hand.”  
“An honour to see you again” Aegon greeted, moving away from slightly from you to shake Cregan’s hand.
“As it is for me, my king” Cregan replied to Aegon head bowed.
And though Kings Landing had changed much, filled with new faces and on the rare occasions a familiar one, you still hated it.
You had thought seeing your brothers here, your sisters, it would feel like a home again,
But no.
You despised the viper pit.
There was more scheming and ploys than before and you were now at the centre of it.
with Cregan as hand and the death of your grandsire as regent, new faces took the role of councillors you had only just grown to trust.
Many of your mothers’ own advisers, advisers you had made Aegon promise to keep on his council had died in the winter fever the year before.
And perhaps that was why you hated Kingslanding, though a fifth of their population was taken, and 90% of that being the smallfolk, so many you had known, trusted and cared for had died and you never even knew.
The halls seemed more haunted now.
Not just haunted of by the faces of your family, of your uncles and brothers.
Of your mother.
But of them also.
You regretted coming with Cregan, and you hated yourself for it.
You had though and thought to stay here, arguing with him before the wedding for just this, to stay.
You know whished to take Silverwing and ride her to Winterfell and never return.
It was only the love you had for your brothers and Cregan that made you stay.
The memory of when first admitted your love for each other playing over and over again, as if it would somehow make you love this place once more.
“Cregan” you had sighed, now alone in your shred tent after a hard long day of ridding, the bath water doing little too sooth your joints.
He sighed your name in return, turning to face you as he undressed for bed.
“Do you love me?” you asked, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice, though you couldn’t hide the hope in your voice.
He smiled softly, moving towards you, taking your hand in his, “I have loved you since I first met you, and I do not think I ever will”.
You smiled, kissing his lips softly, “I love you, I have for so long, even when I hid behind my grief.”
“Really? I did not think you liked me much, after the war.”
“I did! And I hated it, I wanted to through myself into my grief and yet a part of me felt pained that I loved you and you did not know. I hated ignoring you, there always seemed to be a tether tying me to you.” You said shyly. “I hated that you were the reason I was pulled from my grief, I didn’t want my happiness to depend on you, but now…I am glad it is”.
She was glad to have him, he filled the whole left by her family’s deaths, though it was a different kind of love and wholeness she was glad for it.
But it did nought, not as you became and aunt, you fell back into the slow misery you felt before.
Feeling lost and haunted. Surrounded by ghosts talking to you day after day, ghosts you could not hear but faces haunted your dreams.
You didn’t tell anyone though.
Your family was happy, despite the death of Corlys or Baleas husband.
They all seemed happy here, laughing and enjoying the feasts.
The only person who could see your misery was Aegon, but even then, he didn’t understand.
It was clear he was haunted by your mother, of her death. But his was misery was he could push aside, and when with his family all he had was joy.
And yet you still felt that death followed you even more.
More as you felt the death of your child, spending hours, days on the birthing bed only to be greeted with a still born child.
More so as you felt the blood trickle down your legs time after time as you tried and tried to carry another pregnancy to term.
Your heart continued to break and Cregan could see your misery and so he insisted on you retuning to Winterfell, and you agreed.
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Being back in Winterfell made you lose the feelings you had in Kingslanding, made you feel safer.
Made you feel at home.
And you felt lighter here.
Then Cregan was called back to Kings Landing and the emptiness found you again.
But you forced it to the side, hoping if you ignored it long enough it would go away.
And gods were you wrong.
You had plunged yourself into work, trying to help the north recover, from its weakened state following the famine caused during the winter fever.
 A year passed, now 136AC, a year away from your husband, from your brothers.
You became a ghost once more; all healing had vanished and the person you said you would become if Cregan sent you here alone had come.
 “Without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…”
And it had, you were hollow, and you were sad. But instead of letting it spill out of you as it had before, you kept it hidden.
Putting on a strong front, you wanted to be the fierce lady of Winterfell no matter how much you were breaking inside, no matter how much you wished for Cregan to see through your flowered words on paper and to come back to you.
And though he did come back to you, it was not because of you, but of Sylas the Grim.
A wilding chieftain who led a large force of 3,000 south of the wall and was plundering the lands of the gift.
Cregan arrived soon after you sent news of Sylas attacks. You yourself had tried to scare them off, using Silverwing to burn their trail. But they continued their plundering.
And so Cregan led the rallied forces of the north and attacked the wildings, leading yet another victory.
You had watched from the sidelines, sat atop Silverwing awaiting Cregan’s signal. But he never gave it, never looked over to where you waited. Only greeting you as you made your way into the festivity’s hours later. Having taken Silverwing over the wall and burning down all trees beyond the wall, within a 100-mile radius.
He had been surprised but grateful for your actions. But his gratefulness was soon overlooked as the drunken men of the north started to sing.
And you once again sat in your seat and let the hollowness within you start to show.
Later that night, after going to bed hours before Cregan, you and him finally spoke.
“Cregan?” you muttered, lifting your head from the pillow as he tumbled into the room.
“Wife!” he replied, his tone joyful, “I have missed you” he sang, “you’re going to come back with me to kings landing!” he spoke, looking at you expectantly, as if expecting you to dance in joy.
“no” you said, sitting up.
“No?” he said, suddenly sobering up. “Why not? Do you not miss your brother? Or me?”
“Every second of everyday”
“Then come to kings landing”.
“no”
“Why not?” he said, his tone almost aggravated.
“It is haunted” you spoke, your voice in hushed whispers as if the ghosts would somehow appear in your chambers.
“Everywhere haunted, even Winterfell” he said, looking at you, truly looking at you.
He took note of your sunken eyes, your dead eyes.
You looked just as you had those first few years here, and he hated how what you had said would happen had come true.
“no” he muttered, moving towards you “no…my love my sweet wife…what has happened?”
You broke down in tears, telling him what you felt, a years’ worth of emotions spilling out of you and the tears never stopped.
You must have spent the night crying in his arms, begging him to stay and never leave you again.
“please” you begged, “I can’t…I can’t go back there, and I can’t be without you”.
“okay” he said, thinking hard, “I will give up my place as hand”.
“I can’t ask that of you- “
“You can, and I must” he shook his head, cradling you in his arms “I have neglected you for too long and I am so sorry, I love you, I hope you know that” he said, hand caressing your cheek.
“you’ll stay”.
“Yes…always”
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Giving up the position of hand of the king had been like a wight had lifted of his shoulders.
But seeing the state of his with had placed a heavier weight on him.
Feeling his heart break and his own betrayal fill him as you cried in his arms he felt he was a disappointment.
He had seen your loss, her grief and in his own he had pushed you away.
And though he had recovered, he should have known that you couldn’t, not by yourself, not when you still had so much grief left from the war still.
you had always been soft and gentle, always so Intune with your emotions that they overwhelmed you, and he had somehow overlooked that fact and sent you away.
And unlike last time he didn’t have the wedding or retuning to kings landing to look forward to. There was nothing really to look forward too, other than the one thing the gods had deprived you off.
A babe.
You had tried and tried, but three miscarriages and one still birth had wrecked you.
In truth had he not had the lords breathing down his neck once more for an heir then he would never have made you try in the first place and yet it was what you craved, despite the duty you wanted a babe.
And now as his cock filled you and hit all the right spots, this moment were their was no grief, no death no duty to fulfil, just you and Cregan.
“Cregan” you moaned, your face falling into the pillows as he pounded into you “please” you begged into the pillow, you felt your peak approaching as he entered you out, hitting your sweet spot again and again.
He held onto your hips, his cock focusing on that spot as his finger moved down to your clit, bringing you to your second peak of the night, as he filled you with his seed.
You collapsed on the bed, as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.
You relaxed into a comfortable silence, a silence you both often found yourself in.
‘I love you” he whispered, kissing your forehead.
And for the first time in a year you said it back, “I love you, too”
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You fell into your roles as lord and lady of Winterfell easily. Finding you rather enjoyed your duties even more when they were not used as a distraction.
And even though there was some tension between you and Cregan still, you found the love you felt for one another made everything easier, especially when you had spent nights crying in grief and regret at refusing your brothers request to return to Kingslanding even if only for a few days.
You hated saying no, but they seemed to understand. Your duty was to Winterfell now, and they understood.
Egg had understood your need to leave before, himself feeling the same as he told you he considered moving to Dragonstone but fearing hell find more hurt in those halls than that of the red keep.
And now with news of Aegon’s tour around Westeros you were excited to see him once more, too show him your home.
A home you did not regret him having no place in, and as the years passed with a few visits here and there form your brothers you found you rather liked the distance.
Finding that perhaps your grief weas in the guilt of only them and you surviving and not Jace, Luke or Joffrey. The boys who were truly your brothers before they were ever kings or princes.
authors note: next part is the epilouge!
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16woodsequ · 1 year ago
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100 Asexual Books Rec List
For this list the goal is fiction books with a main character or significant secondary character that is on the Asexual spectrum, or non-fiction books about being Aspec.
Junior Novels
1. Rick by Alex Gino An eleven year old boy starting middle school begins discovering his asexuality admist the school's rainbow spectrum club. Also features transgender and crossdressing side characters, as well as a LGBTQIAP+ supporting cast.
2. Sal & Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Alberto Pablo Hernandez In order to heal after his mother's death, Sal learned how to meditate. But no one expected him to be able to take it further and 'relax' things into existence. Turns out he can reach into time and space to retrieve things from other universes. Asexual Sal.
3. Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow Hazel knows a lot about the world. But even Hazel doesn't have answers for the questions awaiting her as she enters eighth grade. What if no one at her new school gets her, and she doesn't make any friends? What's going to happen to one of her moms, who's pregnant again after having two miscarriages? Why does everything have to change when life was already perfectly fine? Hazel (main character) is asexual and aromantic (it isn't said in the book, but it is specified in the author's note at the back of the book).
4. The Trouble with Robots by Michelle Mohrweis Evelyn strives for excellence. Allie couldn't care less. Together, these polar opposites must work together if they have any hope of saving their school's robotics program. Allie is asexual and/or aromantic. Junior graphic novel.
5. This is Our Rainbow by Editors Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby Featuring contributions from Eric Bell, Katherine Locke and A.J. Sass, this first LGBTQA+ anthology for middle-grade readers presents stories of queer fantasy, historical and contemporary stories for every letter of the acronym.
6. Every Bird a Prince by Jenn Reese After she saves the life of a bird prince and becomes their champion, seventh grader Eren Evers must defend a forest kingdom, save her mom, and keep the friendships she holds dear--if she is brave enough to embrace her inner truths. Eren is aromantic (and I'm guessing asexual, though that isn't discussed).
YA Fiction
7. When Villains Rise by Rebecca Schaeffer With her best friend, Kovit's, life in danger, Nita is determined to take down the black market once and for all. Latina asexual and aromantic main character (Nita).
8. The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee Henry "Monty" Montague was bred to be a gentleman. His passions for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men, have earned the disapproval of his father. His quest for pleasures and vices have led to one last hedonistic hurrah as Monty, his best friend and crush Percy, and Monty's sister Felicity begin a Grand Tour of Europe. When a reckless decision turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt, it calls into question everything Monty knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores. Aro/ace secondary character (prequel to a Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy).
9. The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee A year after an accidentally whirlwind grand tour with her brother Monty, Felicity Montague has returned to England with two goals in mind—avoid the marriage proposal of a lovestruck suitor from Edinburgh and enroll in medical school. A highly loved book in regards to asexual portrayal, Felicity’s journey does a fantastic job of exploring the struggle of navigating a world where marriage is expected of women in order to function in society. Even more refreshing is Felicity isn’t just avoiding getting married out of a sole rebellion against the patriarchy (though those themes are also present), but simply because she doesn’t have an interest in sexual or romantic relationships at all.
10. Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria Asexual Devlin has grown up in the shadow of her mother’s impressive spy network—and the shadow of the kingdom, too. A magical mist is eating away at their borders, weakening their magic and making them vulnerable to attacks. Devlin is tasked with infiltrating the royal court of the wealthier neighboring kingdom, but when she befriends their most powerful magic wielder, she discovers an ancient mystery that may hold the key to defeating the mists for good. Victoria prioritizes strong friendships between queer characters and an examination of wealth disparity in this fantasy full of twists and turns.
11. Not Good for Maidens by Tori Bovalino Beneath the streets of York, the goblin market calls to the Wickett women-the family of witches that tends to its victims. For generations, they have defended the old cobblestone streets with their magic. Knowing the dangers, they never entered the market-until May Wickett fell for a goblin girl, accepted her invitation, and became inextricably tied to the world her family tried to protect her from. Told through dual narratives in different timelines, the book essentially has two protagonists: Lou and May. Between these two characters, we have some great queer representation for both asexuality and bisexuality.
12. A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger Themes of magic, family, asexuality, and traditional storytelling dominate in Lipan Apache author Darcie Little Badger's delightful and uplifting second YA novel. A Lipan girl named Nina collides with Oli who is from the land of spirits and monsters. But some people will do anything to keep them apart. This is a wholesome, elegantly written read guaranteed to warm your heart! 
13. Arden Grey by Ray Stoeve Arden Grey is a novel about different kinds of abusive relationships, as well as the strength of family and friendships. Following her parents' separation, Arden is depressed and coming to accept herself as being on the asexual spectrum.
14. It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano Yasm Trevi didn't have much of a freshman year thanks to Hurricane Humphrey, but she's ready to take sophomore year by storm. That means mastering the marching side of marching band--fast!--so she can outshine her BFF Sofia as top of the flute section, earn first chair, and impress both her future college admission boards and her comfortably unattainable drum major crush Gilberto Reyes. But Yasm steps off on the wrong foot when she reports an anonymous gossip Instagram account harassing new band members and accidentally gets the entire low brass section suspended from extracurriculars. Rep: Biracial Latina fat asexual-questioning cis female MC, Jewish gray-aromantic gray-asexual male side character with ADHD and APD.
15. One for All by Lillie Lainoff In 1655 sixteen-year-old Tania is the daughter of a retired musketeer, but she is afflicted with extreme vertigo and subject to frequent falls; when her father is murdered she finds that he has arranged for her to attend Madame de Treville's newly formed Acadaemie des Mariées in Paris, which, it turns out, is less a school for would-be wives, than a fencing academy for girls--and so Tania begins her training to be a new kind of musketeer, and to get revenge for her father. Rep: disability, asexuality, sapphic side characters, POTS and PTSD.
16. The State of Us by Shaun David Hutchinson When Dean Arnault’s mother decided to run for president, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone, least of all her son. But still that doesn’t mean Dean wants to be part of the public spectacle that is the race for the White House—at least not until he meets Dre. The only problem is that Dre Rosario’s on the opposition; he’s the son of the Democratic nominee. In a moment of solidarity and high emotions, Dean tells Dre that he has been questioning his sexual orientation. He isn’t sure if he’s asexual or demisexual. Dre puts a messaging app on Dean’s phone so they can stay in touch.
17. Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim When Amaya rescues a mysterious stranger from drowning, she fears her rash actions have earned her a longer sentence on the debtor ship where she’s been held captive for years. Instead, the man she saved offers her unimaginable riches and a new identity, setting Amaya on a perilous course through the coastal city-state of Moray, where old-world opulence and desperate gamblers collide. Amaya wants one thing: revenge against the man who ruined her family and stole the life she once had. Desi, demisexual female protagonist. 
18. Camp by Lev AC Rosen It’s Randy’s fifth year at Camp Outland, a camp where queer teens get a chance to be themselves. Hoping to win over Hudson’s heart—who’s masc and straight passing and only seems to date other guys like himself—Randy has spent the past year reinventing himself: workout regimen, new haircut, new carefully curated wardrobe. His friends and camp counsellor all think it’s a terrible idea, but what can they do but support him anyways?
19. Little Thieves by Margaret Owen Once upon a time, the daughter of death and fortune was a teenage girl and she was the worst. Little Thieves is, as the dedication says, for the gremlin girls, never has there been a more gremlin girl than Vanja Schmidt. A brilliant and brazen swindler, Vanja could give Kaz Brekker a run for his money. But Vanja has bigger fish to fry. As her body rapidly turns into the gemstones she craves, Vanja must put things right and face her greed head on all while juggling her engagement to a terrible margrave, an investigator with his own magic, and the princess whose face she stole. Vanja’s relationship with junior prefect Emeric could not be more demisexual if it tried, with both sides of the romance experiencing asexual spectrum existence in different and complimentary ways. One part Germanic fairytale, one part ensemble heist, Little Thieves is an unhinged romp of a book.
20. Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland Rom-coms and the asexuality spectrum...two great things that go great together. Kelsie and Eric have been competing against each other their whole lives. But desperation forces them to work together. Kelsie’s best friend stopped talking to her and Eric wants to rekindle his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, and since both will be at UPenn at the same time, Eric and Kelsie decide to go on a road trip together. Sparks fly.
21. You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie Valentina "Vale" Castillo-Green's life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father's intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she's been working toward seems to disappear. Queer asexual biracial (Colombian, Irish) protagonist.
22. Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city. Rep: demisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese main character, Chinese trans woman main character, aromantic asexual side character; (Chinese-Kiwi author).
23. The Spy with the Red Ballon by Katherine Locke Siblings Ilse and Wolf hide a deep secret in their blood: with it, they can work magic. And the government just found out. Blackmailed into service during World War II, Ilse lends her magic to America’s newest weapon, the atom bomb, while Wolf goes behind enemy lines to sabotage Germany’s nuclear program. It’s a dangerous mission, but if Hitler were to create the bomb first, the results would be catastrophic. Gay demisexual Jewish protagonist.
24. Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, and friends Alys, Evander, and Newt, fight back against the high council of Eldra, which has ruled for centuries based solely on ancient prophesies. Alys, an apothecary-in-training and the level-headed one of the crew. She identifies as asexual.
25. Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia Eighteen-year-old Eliza Mirk is the anonymous creator of the wildly popular webcomic Monstrous Sea, but when a new boy at school tempts her to live a life offline, everything she's worked for begins to crumble. Asexual main character, not explicitly stated in the book.
26. Technically, You Started It by Lana Wood Johnson When a guy named Martin Nathaniel Munroe II texts you, it should be obvious who you're talking to. Except there's two of them (it's a long story), and Haley thinks she's talking to the one she doesn't hate. Demisexual main character.
27. Now Entering Addamsville by Francesca Zappia Zora Novak is framed for a crime she didn't commit--in a town obsessed with ghosts, will she be able to find the culprit and clear her name before it's too late? It's a brief mention, but Zora is ace.
28. Fully Disclosure by Camryn Garrett In a community that isn’t always understanding, an HIV-positive teen must navigate fear, disclosure, and radical self-acceptance when she falls in love–and lust–for the first time. One of Simone’s best friends in the book, Claudia, is an asexual lesbian. The unwavering support she gives to Simone is heartwarming, and she is also openly sex-positive—which flips the script on its head regarding what most people would assume of asexual people.
30. The Art of Saving the World by Corinne Duyvis When Hazel Stanczak was born, an interdimensional rift tore open near her family’s home, which prompted immediate government attention. They soon learned that if Hazel strayed too far, the rift would become volatile and fling things from other dimensions onto their front lawn—or it could swallow up their whole town. Hazel Stanczak identifies as asexual, though she spends time in the book questioning it. The book presents a unique way to show that there is not one single way to be asexual—that it exists on a spectrum and can look different for each person.
31. Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann Alice had her whole summer planned. Non-stop all-you-can-eat buffets while marathoning her favorite TV shows (best friends totally included) with the smallest dash of adulting–working at the library to pay her share of the rent. The only thing missing from her perfect plan? Her girlfriend (who ended things when Alice confessed she’s asexual). Alice is done with dating–no thank you, do not pass go, stick a fork in her, done. Alice is a biromantic and asexual black woman who starts off very confident in her identity as asexual, yet has experiences that have her questioning her orientation and how to talk about it.
32. In the Ravenous Dark by AdriAnne Strickland A pansexual blood mage reluctantly teams up with an undead spirit to start a rebellion among the living and the dead. This book features Japha, an asexual nonbinary character who serves as the best friend to the MC.
33. Seven Ways We Lie by Riley Redgate Life at Paloma High School is much like any other high school, with petty drama, judgmental assholes, and mind-numbing schoolwork. Until it isn’t. A scandal emerges: a student and teacher had an illicit affair. At the center of the scandal are seven teenagers, each with their own secrets, whose lives are transformed as a result of this scandal. One of the characters can be read as asexual (and possibly neurodiverse). He never explicitly labels himself as such, but the way he describes his experiences of [non-]attraction strongly point to him being on the ace spectrum.
34. Quicksilver by R. J. Anderson Tori thought she had left her past behind when she and her family started a new life in a new city. But then Sebastian Faraday reappears in her life to tell her that she’s not quite as safe as she thinks: the relay is still operating and a genetics lab is trying to track her down to figure out the secret behind her unusual biology. Tori is going to have to use all of her considerable technical expertise to escape her past and live the normal human life she’s always wanted to have. Asexual main character.
35. Hullmetal Girls by Emily Skrutskie Aisha Un-Haad, seventeen, and Key Tanaka, eighteen, have risked everything for new lives as mechanically enhanced soldiers, and when an insurrection forces dark secrets to surface, the fate of humanity is in their hands. In Hullmetal Girls, Aisha is not only ace/aro but she is also happy with her identity. Crucially, so is everyone else.
36. Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer Nita's mother hunts monsters and, after Nita dissects and packages them, sells them online, but when Nita follows her conscience to help a live monster escape, she is sold on the black market in his place. Aro/Ace main character
37. Before I Let Go by Marieke Nijkamp When Corey moves away from Lost Creek, Alaska, she makes her friend Kyra promise to stay strong during the long, dark winter, and wait for her return. Just days before Corey is to return home to visit, Kyra dies. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones, saying her death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she's a stranger. With every hour, Corey's suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets-- but piecing together the truth about what happened to her best friend may prove as difficult as lighting the sky in an Alaskan winter. Aro/Ace main character.
38. If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to the best place on earth. No, not Disneyland–her Granny’s diner, Goldeen’s, in the small town of Misty Haven. While there, she works in her fabulous 50’s inspired uniform, twirling around the diner floor and earning an obscene amount of tips. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall. …until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen in a highly anticipated matchmaking tradition that she wants absolutely nothing to do with. Aro/ace secondary character.
39. Dread Nation by Justina Ireland An alternate history where the Civil War was put on hold when zombies started to rise. Almost finished with her education at Miss Preston's School of Combat in Baltimore, Jane is set on returning to her Kentucky home and doesn't pay much mind to the politics of the eastern cities, with their talk of returning America to the glory of its days before the dead rose.But when families around Baltimore County begin to go missing, Jane is caught in the middle of a conspiracy, one that finds her in a desperate fight for her life against some powerful enemies. And the restless dead, it would seem, are the least of her problems. The word asexual is not used, but that fits with the setting, and the explanation goes into a fair amount of detail, also ruling out that she likes women instead.
40. Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson When her convent is attacked by possessed soldiers, Artemisia defends the Gray Sisters by awakening the revenant bound to a saint's relic, even though she runs the risk of being possessed permanently by the powerful ancient spirit. Non-explicit romantic asexual main character. Fantasy.
41. Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace A postapocalyptic ghosthunter escapes her dire fate by joining the ghost of a supersoldier on his quest to the underworld Aromantic asexual main character. Dark fantasy/dystopian.
42. Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno While anyone would love to have a bit of magic, what happens when magic turns dark? Georgina Fernweh will come into her magic someday soon. Before she does, Georgina faces a tragedy that tests the islanders' trust. In this book, Georgina’s best friend Vira is aroace, and it’s addressed somewhat in the story at different points. There is a sweet strength between Georgina and Vira, full of loyalty and support that is lovely to see.
43. The Summer of Bitter and Sweet by Jen Ferguson In this moving and complex narrative, Lou learns to draw boundaries, stand up for herself, all while coming to terms with her demisexuality.
44. The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow One-third of the human population has died and now the world is about to end. Ellie, a fat, Black, disabled, demisexual girl with access to an illegal library teams up with a music-loving alien to risk their lives to save the world.
45. The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl Pohl serves up a veritable smorgasbord of queer fairytale goodies in Grimrose Girls. This tale as old as time follows four students at the prestigious boarding school Grimrose Academy—Ella, Yuki, Rory, and newcomer Nani. When the former three’s best friend dies, all four girls are swept up in a dark and twisted mystery full of old fairytale magic. They must work together to unravel the secrets between them and break an ancient curse that dooms them to a fairytale ending (and not the fun kind). Yuki’s aromantic asexual identity is explored in her relationship to expectations, beauty, and friendship throughout the novel.
46. Radio Silence by Alice Oseman Frances has been a study machine with one goal. Nothing will stand in her way; not friends, not a guilty secret – not even the person she is on the inside. Then Frances meets Aled, and for the first time, she’s unafraid to be herself. So when the fragile trust between them is broken, Frances is caught between who she was and who she longs to be. In this book, Aled identifies as demisexual while Frances identifies as bisexual. The story really pays homage to the importance of friendship, and romantic storylines move to the background in a way we don’t often get in YA literature.
47. This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria Forced to serve her country’s ruling group, Karis wants nothing more than to find her brother. But family bonds don’t matter to the sole focus of unlocking the magic of an ancient automaton army. Karis is ace and other LGBTQ+ characters are introduced throughout.
48. Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand A horror novel centered around three girls facing off against an unseen monster that preys upon the young women of the island of Sawkill Rock. Features a black asexual girl fresh out of a romantic relationship, as well as a f/f relationship.
49. Love Letters for Joy by Melissa See Less than a year away from graduation, seventeen-year-old Joy is too busy overachieving to be worried about relationships. She’s determined to be Caldwell Prep’s first disabled valedictorian. And she only has one person to beat, her academic rival Nathaniel. But it’s senior year and everyone seems to be obsessed with pairing up. One of her best friends may be developing feelings for her and the other uses Caldwell’s anonymous love-letter writer to snag the girl of her dreams. Joy starts to wonder if she has missed out on a quintessential high school experience. She is asexual, but that’s no reason she can’t experience first love, right?
50. Not Your Backup by C. B. Lee Part 3 in the Sidekick Squad series by C.B. Lee. Follows a questioning aromantic asexual latinx superhero sidekick fighting to prove her worth on the team despite her lack of superpowers, all admist the team's battle against the corrupt League of Heroes.
51. Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller Noble-born Emilie des Marais, 16, wants to become a physician, a role usually forbidden women of her class because of the corruptive toll the magical "noonday arts" exact. Common-born Annette Boucher wants to escape her domineering parents and master the less physically costly "midnight arts" of illusions, divination, and scrying, normally reserved for those who can afford the expensive education. At Emilie's urging, each girl takes the other's place. Miller (Ruin of Stars) writes in lush, dense prose that can require a careful read, but her protagonists' awareness of privilege and desire to challenge the status quo shines through. LGBTQ representation--including gay, trans, and nonbinary characters (Annette identifies as asexual biromantic)--further widens this tale's appeal.
52. Tarnished Are the Stars by Rosiee Thor A secret beats inside Anna Thatcher's chest: an illegal clockwork heart. Anna works cog by cog -- donning the moniker Technician -- to supply black market medical technology to the sick and injured, against the Commissioner's tyrannical laws. Determined to earn his father's respect, Nathaniel sets out to capture the Technician. But the more he learns about the outlaw, the more he questions whether his father's elusive affection is worth chasing at all. This YA novel features an aroace character gradually coming to accept his orientation in the midst of everything else that is happening in his life. Perfect for older teens who also enjoy WLW representation and dark themes.
53. Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt An all-asexual online friend group attempts to break into a high-stakes gambling club and commit a heist together. Includes a male asexual character navigating what love looks like for him, an aromantic asexual Latinx gender-nonconforming boy, a Vietnamese American and German asexual nonbinary teen, and a black asexual girl.
54. Planning Perfect by Haley Neil Summer vacation quickly becomes complicated for Felicity Becker as she tries to plan a perfect wedding for her mom, figure out her feelings for her friend Nancy, and wonder what dating will look like for her as an asexual person.
55. Ace of Hearts by Myriad Augustine Everyone around Alvin seems to be obsessed with one thing-- sex. Alvin finds it uncomfortable to think and talk about it and he knows he isn't ready and may never be. His friends, however, think that all Alvin needs is to hook up with the right guy. But the closer Alvin gets to being physical with someone, the more he's uncertain that this is for him and he begins to wonder if he's asexual. Can Alvin find the love that's right for him?
56. Beyond the Black Door by AdriAnne Strickland Everyone has a soul. Some are beautiful gardens, others are frightening dungeons. Kamia comes to know more about her identity as she decides to battle the forces of evil, no matter the cost... Asexual and demi-romantic main characters. Dark fantasy. Kamai is asexual, but isn’t aromantic—she has an interest in relationships that isn’t always depicted for those who are ace.
57. Loveless by Alice Oseman A queer coming of age story featuring a romance obsessed aromantic asexual main character discovering her sexuality and coming to terms with what that means, and a variety of other queer characters that support her on her journey.
58. Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman Rumi Seto spends a lot of time worrying she doesn’t have the answers to everything. What to eat, where to go, whom to love. But there is one thing she is absolutely sure of—she wants to spend the rest of her life writing music with her younger sister, Lea. Then Lea dies in a car accident, and her mother sends her away to live with her aunt in Hawaii while she deals with her own grief. While not the main focal point of the book, Rumi does grapple throughout the story about where exactly she lands on the ace and aro spectrum—and whether she has to label herself at all.
59. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee In this queer rom-com, a transgender teen must decide if he's dedicated to romantic formulas or open to unpredictable love after an internet troll attack on his blog compels him and a fan to start fake-dating. Through an unlikely friendship with sweet, grounded Devin, who is Cuban American, asexual, and experimenting with pronouns, Noah--initially self-centered and standoffish--learns to value communication and empathy.
60. The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath In 1904 Norway, Asta runs away from her horrible fiancé to live with her two best friends. The three misfits set out to win the annual Christmas sleigh race to prove that they belong together. Queer asexual hard of hearing protagonist with heterochromia of Norwegian descent.
61. Forward March by Skye Quinlan How can band geek Harper have the chance of becoming the First Daughter with a fake dating profile? However, Harper does know that the drumline leader swiped right. Come along with Harper as she explores her truth during her last year of high school. Asexual-questioning cis female MC with anxiety and asthma.
62. Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger What if America had monsters, magic, and interdimensional beings? For Elatsoe, this is real, and she has to uncover her cousin's murder! She can do this with the help of her ghost dog, Kirby, but has to remember not to wake human ghosts. Aromantic ace main character. Paranormal mystery. Casual representation which extends to Ellie’s identity as Lipan Apache. This identity is asserted more often and firmly than her asexuality, and Little Badger drops in nuggets of education for us settlers about what Indigenous people, and the Lipan Apache in particular, suffered at the hands of settlers.
63. All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages by Editor Robin Talley A collection of short fantasy stories, featuring a variety of queer characters across multiple sexualities and genders. Features an asexual roller-skating girl from the 70s struggling to explain her identity to her crush.
64. Black Wings Beating by Alex London Twins Brysen and Kylee live in a world that revers the power of the falconers, but in a world where war approaches, they aren’t safe. Hunted for their power, they work together to trap the Ghost Eagle. Kylee is an ace character, focused on protecting her brother.
Graphic Novels
65. A-okay by Jarad Greene Eight grade can be tough, especially if you have acne and bullies, and lose friends. But our relatable asexual and aromantic protagonist, Jay, pulls through. This is a relatable memoir with colorful artwork.
66. How to Be Ace: A Memoir of Growing up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess A comic memoir detailing the author Rebecca Burgess's experience with growing up asexual in a world obsessed with sex. Also talks about her experiences with her own mental health and OCD.
67. Jughead, Volume 1 by Chip Zdarsky A comic book reboot of the Archie comics centered around Jughead Jones. Follows an aromantic asexual main character in typical Archie-style shenanigans. Part 1 of a 3 part series.
68. A Quick & Easy Guide to Asexuality by Molly Muldoon A charming introduction to asexuality, created to shed light on the misconceptions surrounding sex and being asexual. Told by writer Molly Muldoon and cartoonist Will Hernandez, both on the asexual spectrum.
69. Is Love the Answer? by Isaki Uta A poignant coming-of-age story about a young woman coming into her own as she discovers her identity as aromantic asexual. A complete story in a single volume, from the creator of "Mine-kun is Asexual."
Domestic Fiction
70. Have You Seen Luis Velez by Catherine Ryan Hyde Raymond Jaffe feels like he doesn't belong. Not with his mother's new family. Not as a weekend guest with his father and his father's wife. Not at school, where he's an outcast. After his best friend moves away, Raymond has only two real connections: to the feral cat he's tamed and to a blind ninety-two-year-old woman in his building who's introduced herself with a curious question: Have you seen Luis Velez? Mildred Gutermann, a German Jew who narrowly escaped the Holocaust, has been alone since her caretaker disappeared. She turns to Raymond for help, and as he tries to track Luis down, a deep and unexpected friendship blossoms between the two. Raymond is asexual (to be precise, he is aroace) And he is depicted as kind, loving, sensitive and realistic.
Fantasy
71. In the Lives of the Puppets by TJ Klune In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots--fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They're a family, hidden and safe. Protagonist: Vic, A curious, loving, & asexual human.
72. The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon In the mid-21st century major world cities are controlled by a formidable security force and clairvoyant underworld cell member Paige commits acts of psychic treason before being captured by an otherworldly race that would make her a part of their supernatural army. Demisexual main character.
73. The Perfect Assassin by K.A. Doore Divine justice is written in blood. Or so Amastan has been taught. As a new assassin in the Basbowen family, he's already having second thoughts about taking a life. A scarcity of contracts ends up being just what he needs. Until, unexpectedly, Amastan finds the body of a very important drum chief. Until, inevitably, Amastan is ordered to solve these murders, before the family gets blamed. Amastan is asexual and, as it turns out, homoromantic.
74. The Bruising of Quilwa by Naseem Jamnia Firuz-e Jafari was able to escape the slaughter of traditional blood magic practitioners by immigrating to the city-state of Qilwa. But now a terrible disease is spreading through the city, and Firuz believes it comes from ineptly performed blood magic. Now they must find a way to break a cycle of prejudice in order to survive. From the author: it's about an aroace nonbinary refugee healer who is trying to cure a magical plague in their new home while hiding their blood magic.
75. The Midnight Bargain by C. L. Polk The Midnight Bargain is a story "set in a world reminiscent of Regency England, where women's magic is taken from them when they marry. A sorceress must balance her desire to become the first great female magician against her duty to her family. Ysbeta has a clear goal for her life: to discover and share magic. Besides loving learning for its own sake, Ysbeta is asexual, and wealthy in her own right, so the bargaining season offers her literally nothing.
76. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire Set in a world where a group of children have the ability to find and enter doorways into magical worlds, and now must find who's targetting them for this ability. Lead by an female asexual main character, with a trans love interest. First book in a series of novellas.
Science Fiction
77. The First Sister by Linden A. Lewis She's a priestess of the Sisterhood, traveling the stars alongside the soldiers of Earth who own the rights to her body and soul. When her former captain abandons her, First Sister's hopes for freedom are dashed and she is forced to stay on her ship with no friends, no status, and a new captain she knows nothing about. When the Mother, leader of her order, asks her to spy on Captain Saito Ren, First Sister discovers that sacrificing for the war effort is so much harder to do when your loyalties are split. He climbed his way out of the slums to become an elite soldier of Venus, but now he's haunted by his failures and the loss of his partner Hiro. But when Lito learns that Hiro is alive, but a traitor, and he's assigned to hunt Hiro down, and kill them, Lito must decide what he is actually fighting for - the society that raised him, or himself. As the battle to control Ceres reaches a head, Lito and First Sister must decide what - and whom - they are willing to sacrifice in the name of duty, or for love. Hispanic panromantic asexual protagonist (Lito).
78. Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace Mal is one of many war survivors in the old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, one of which is her team's streaming video game play. The team lives with several other roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special non-player characters (NPCs) modeled after Stellaxis' twelve bioengineered operatives, the team pursues her inside the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they've secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. Aroace main character.
79. To be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers Four astronauts set out to explore the galaxy. This journey spans centuries and many worlds. A thought provoking read that explores the themes of loneliness and sense of purpose. Excellent cast of diverse characters and vivid world building. Chikondi is asexual and the text is careful to note that his relationship to the protagonist is no less emotional or vital than those she shares with people she is sexually involved with.
80. The Circus Infinite by Khan Wong What better person to take down a crime boss than a mixed-species fugitive! Join Jes on this exciting tale of espionage, torture, demolition. Sex-averse panromantic asexual lead character
Historical Fiction
81. Kaikeyi by Vasihnavi Patel The only daughter of the kingdom of Kekaya, she is raised on grand stories about the might and benevolence of the gods. Yet she watches as her father unceremoniously banishes her mother, her own worth measured by how great a marriage alliance she can secure. And when she calls upon the gods for help, they never seem to hear. Desperate for some measure of independence, she turns to the ancient texts she once read with her mother and discovers a magic that is hers alone. Kaikeyi is asexual and aromantic. Although the words "asexual" and "aromantic" aren't used in the book.
Western
82. The Complete Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone Chronicles by L. C. Mawson If you’re looking for steampunk magic, the Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone novellas are the place for you. Read them individually or all together in this compendium. Chapelstone is interested in her inventions, not love and romance.
Paranormal
83. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Homes by Joseph Fink Told in a series of eerie flashbacks, the story of The Faceless Old Woman goes back centuries to reveal an initially blissful and then tragic childhood on a Mediterranean Estate in the early nineteenth century, her rise in the criminal underworld of Europe, a nautical adventure with a mysterious organization of smugglers, her plot for revenge on the ones who betrayed her, and ultimately her death and its aftermath, as her spirit travels the world for decades until settling in modern-day Night Vale. Asexual secondary character.
Romance  
84. All the Wrong Places by Ann Gallagher After his three ex-girlfriends in a row leave Brennan because he's not fulfilling their sexual needs, he seeks out advice from Zafir, the owner of a sex shop. Zafir introduces Brennan to the concept of asexuality and slowly something more blossoms between them.
85. That Kind of Guy by Talia Hibbert Rae needs a fake date to take to her ex's wedding and convinces Zach, a close friend who has recently discovered that he is demisexual, to play along.
86. The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood In an attempt to convince her best friend that she really is over her ex-boyfriend, grad-student Olive panic kisses stern associate professor Adam in the hallway. (Olive is coded as demisexual/graysexual, but that label is never used in the book).
87. Far From Home by Lorelie Brown The oddest of odd couples finds unexpected joy in Brown’s warm, sweet contemporary romance. American citizen Rachel, a not-quite-asexual assistant film producer struggling to make a living in L.A., is drowning in student debt; Indian immigrant Pari Sadashiv, a lesbian logistics manager, needs a U.S. green card to advance her career. When Rachel offers to marry Pari in exchange for funds, it’s just party banter at first—but what’s to stop them from crafting a friendship with legal and financial benefits? Their platonic plans quickly go awry as Pari’s mother moves in to help plan the wedding, forcing them to live their lie. As Rachel feels herself awakening to an attraction she didn’t even know was possible, Pari has to decide whether she can live with the possible fallout of Rachel’s tentative first foray into same-sex love.
88. Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun Last Christmas, Ellie met Jack in Powell’s when they both went for a copy of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, and over a cute argument over “shared custody”, and Jack poking gentle fun at Ellie (who had been crying alone and talking to a footstool as if it were her friend) they start to bond. Jack asks Ellie for coffee, and then they end up spending the whole day together. This is a big deal for Ellie, who is demisexual, and rarely develops attractions to anyone. And then Jack breaks her heart. Fast-forward to this Christmas when Andrew, the landlord who owns the building she works in, asks her to fake-marry him so he can access his inheritance, and shenanigans lead to her agreeing to this and to going home with him for Christmas, and surprise! Jack is Andrew’s sister.
89. The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun Tech wunderkind Charlie has never really been interested in dating, but agrees to join the cast of reality show 'Ever After.' While there he finds himself charmed by his producer, Dev, and questioning his sexuality. The Charm Offensive includes a conversation discussing asexuality and its spectrum.
90. Never Been Kissed by Timothy Janovsky Wren Roland has never been kissed, but he wants that movie-perfect ending more than anything. Thanks to Mateo’s boyfriend, he learns about demisexuality and realizes that when he came out as gay, he had not finished realizing truths about himself and intimate relationships.
91. How to be a Normal Person by TJ Klune Before The House on the Cerulean Sea blew up, Klune wrote this quirky and delightful story of two asexual people finding each other and their happily ever after.
92. Soft on Soft by Mina Waheed This super sweet, low-angst romance centers on two fat, queer women of colour (one Black and one Persian-Arab) who fall in love and find their happy ending with hardly any drama. There’s also anxiety representation. It’s just pure fluffy romance goodness. Demisexual protagonist.
Non-Fiction
93. Ace and Aro Journeys: A Guide to Embracing your Asexual or Aromantic Identity by The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project What does it mean to be ace or aro? How should I approach the challenges that come with being ace or aro? How can I best support the ace and aro people in my life? Join the The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project (TAAAP) for a deep dive into the process of discovering and embracing your ace and aro identities. Empower yourself to explore the nuances of your identity, find and develop support networks, explore different kinds of partnership, come out to your communities and find real joy within. Combining a rigorous exploration of identity and sexuality models with hundreds of candid and poignant testimonials -- this companion vouches for your personal truth, wherever you lie on the aspec spectrum. You are not invisible! You are among friends.
94. Being Ace: An Anthology of Queer, Trans, Femme, and Disabled Stories of Asexual Love and Connection by Editor Madeline Dyer Discover the infinite realms of asexual love across sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary stories From a wheelchair user racing to save her kidnapped girlfriend and a little mermaid who loves her sisters more than suitors, to a slayer whose virgin blood keeps attracting monsters, the stories of this anthology are anything but conventional. Whether adventuring through space, outsmarting a vengeful water spirit, or surviving haunted cemeteries, no two aces are the same in these 14 unique works that highlight asexual romance, aromantic love, and identities across the asexual spectrum
95. Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen A non-fiction research book about the asexual perspective on society's facinations with love and sex, and the misconceptions about what being asexual really is and what it means to a person.
96. The Invisible Orientation: an Introduction to Asexuality by Julia Sondra Decker An introduction to what asexuality is, both for people who don't know what that means and for people that may be questioning their own sexuality. It aims to puts asexual people's experiences in context, as they move through a very sexualized world.
97. Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe A graphic memoir about author Kobabe's growing from adolescence to adulthood, as e explores eir gender identity and sexuality. Features a gender queer and asexual main character that uses e/eir pronouns.
98. Ace Voices What it Means to Be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace by Eris Young This is the ace community in their own words. Drawing upon interviews with a wide range of people across the asexual spectrum, Eris Young is here to take you on an empowering, enriching journey through the rich multitudes of asexual life.
99. I Am Ace: Adice on Living Your Best Asexual Life by Cody Daigle-Orians Tackling everything from what asexuality is, the asexual spectrum and tips on coming out, to intimacy, relationships, acephobia and finding joy, this guide will help you better understand your asexual identity alongside deeply relatable anecdotes drawn from Cody's personal experience.
100. Sounds Fake But Okay: An Asexual and Aromantic Perspective on Love, Relationships, Sex, and Pretty Much Anything Else by Sarah Costello and Kayla Kaszyca Drawing on their personal stories, and those of aspec friends all over the world, prepare to explore your microlabels, investigate different models of partnership, delve into the intersection of gender norms and compulsory sexuality and reconsider the meaning of sex - when allosexual attraction is out of the equation.
I haven't read all of these books, so I can't guarantee all of them. But I did my best researching all of them. I was making this list on my own and I was amazed that I could find over 100 books with asexual characters and I wanted to share it!
The Aromantic Book List is now out!
Tagging some people who were excited about this list: @sweetspiderstew @majorgenerally @shayberri789 @53rdcenturyhero @knightoflodis @neonghost39 @rosaazulina
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lizzyiii · 3 months ago
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His Lady Love (8)
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pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson! reader
taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC
word count | 5.2k words
summary | chapter title: The Side Quests of Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys Targaryen. Flashback, flashback. Flashback, flashback. Flashback!!! (backpack song from dora playing)
tags | uhh, child sickness? creepy man, death, blood, miscarriage, reminder: reader is mentally and physically a teenage girl, with the knowledge and memories of a five-hundred year old vampire.
note | My heart will always be soft for viserys iii and the boy he was (before becoming angry and abusive). I always thought Dany was the prince that was promised, now I realise it was Jaehaerys all along. Jaejae the 2nd, you will always be famous to me. Alsooooo can we talk about CrazyTom's artwork of Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, Aegon and Viserys. I'm obsessed!!!
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨
𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫
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The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the landscape, yet it felt as if you had been riding for an eternity. Your heart ached for Jaehaerys; the boy had gone from being flushed with fever to trembling like a fragile leaf in your arms. The relentless chill of night seeped through the sky as you desperately sought refuge, knowing that time was slipping through your fingers.
A troubling notion flickered at the back of your mind, persistent and unwelcome: vampire blood possessed remarkable healing properties. You understood its power all too well—but administering it to a child? The thought sent a shudder through you, compelling you to cast it aside.
At last, a flicker of hope emerged on the horizon, a humble farm materializing in the fading light. You encouraged your steed to quicken its pace, each stride bringing with it the promise of sanctuary.
Yet, as you approached the entrance, a gnawing doubt took root in your mind. The farm was eerily silent; no animals roamed the barren fields, and the grass grew wild, reclaiming the land it once served. Rusty gates hung crookedly on their hinges, their broken visage painting a grim picture of neglect. Though the place bore the marks of despair, it was shelter you so desperately needed.
In the heart of the farm stood a dilapidated house, its once-inviting facade now obscured by age and wear. Your brow knitted in concern as you noted the boarded windows, their splintered frames, while shattered glass glimmered ominously like shards of a lost past.
Dismounting the horse with careful precision, you cradled Jaehaerys in your arms, his small frame feeling impossibly fragile against you. His small head rested against your shoulder, and with tender care, you drew the blanket around him, eager to shield his silvery hair from sight.
With a determined stride, you approached the door, Jaehaerys nestled protectively against you. You wrapped your knuckles against the weathered wood, the sound echoing in the stillness. After a brief, agonizing wait, you knocked again, more forcefully this time, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Your patience, a rare commodity in such dire moments, teetered on the brink of exhaustion. Just as you reached for the handle, ready to force your way in, the door creaked open violently.
A man stood there, his expression a mask of suspicion that softened upon recognizing you—a mere girl holding a babe. He appeared to be in his late twenties, towering over you with a lean frame, almost ghostly in his thinness. Dark hollows etched into his cheeks and sunken eyes spoke of sleepless nights and countless burdens, aging him far beyond his years.
You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of your urgency. "Forgive me, sir," you began, your voice a blend of desperation and resolve. "My son is gravely ill, and I implore you to grant us shelter from the weather."
His dark brown eyes flicked over your form, lingering on the boy before darting past you to survey the evening sky. "Seems fine to me," he remarked, a hint of sarcasm threading through his tone.
A sigh escaped your lips, a mingling of frustration and exasperation. You understood the rules of invitation all too well; only through his willingness would you find sanctuary. "I assure you, he has taken ill. A fever seizes him, and I fear he won't make it till sunrise if we remain out here. Please, I beg you—let us come inside."
The man scrutinized you, searching for hidden truths behind your wide, beseeching eyes. Then came the question that sent a ripple of caution through your veins: "Are you alone?"
A warning echoed in your mind, a primal instinct urging you to tread carefully. Yet, you were not merely a helpless girl; you were an Original, a creature of the night with immortality coursing through your veins. Steeling your resolve, you responded with a nod, your eyes wide to convey innocence, "Yes, I am."
He stared at you for a moment more, then stepped aside, inviting you to enter. “Come inside, then,” he murmured, granting you passage across the threshold.
As you ventured into his dwelling, it mirrored the desolation that lingered beyond its walls. The atmosphere was devoid of warmth, wrapped in a shroud of emptiness that seemed to echo the chill of the wintry night outside.
“How do you survive in winter?” you couldn’t help but ask, curiosity leaking into your voice.
He moved ahead of you, shrugging dismissively as if the question were an afterthought. “I get by.”
You followed him through the dimly lit corridors, ending up in what you surmised was his bedroom. With a gesture towards a ghastly contraption that barely resembled a bed, he said, “You can put him here.”
Grateful, you nodded and brushed past him, gently placing Jaehaerys down on the makeshift bed. With tender care, you swept the strands of hair from his face, attempting to obscure the telltale glimmer of his silver locks.
“You look a bit young to have a child,” the man remarked from his position behind you, his gaze trailing over you with an intensity that unsettled your very core.
"Aren't all girls?" you replied softly, allowing a hint of bite to creep into your tone as you turned your attention back to Jaehaerys.
"Fancy clothes you've got on," came his voice again, laced with curiosity and something more insidious. You sighed inwardly, frustrated by his relentless inquisition, feeling the heat of his gaze like a noose tightening around your throat. "You a lady or something?"
Your eyes drifted down to your attire — a simple green dress, elegantly cut but unpretentious by your standards. To you, it was nothing but fabric; to the eyes of the common folk, however, it gleamed with the opulence of fine material and intricate embroidery that bespoke of you standing.
"Or something," you replied vaguely, then spun to meet his gaze head-on, a noncommittal smile painting your lips as you turned to face him. "You've been so kind, yet I realize I have yet to learn your name. My name is Rebekah and this is my son, Jayme," you said.
A sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, an expression that held secrets of its own. "Hello, Rebekah. I’m Tym," he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise—or perhaps a threat, you couldn't discern yet.
The air thickened with a momentary silence, as your attention remained fixed on Jaehaerys, who stirred restlessly upon the rickety bed. With a subtle clearing of his throat, Tym broke the stillness. “Got some stew simmering over a pot. Care for some?”
His intentions appeared benign, yet a cautious wariness lingered beneath your polite smile. “That would be lovely, Tym,” you replied.
As he turned to fetch the stew, you cradled Jaehaerys, your fingertips brushing against his fevered brow. You planted a gentle kiss atop his head, whispering a quiet prayer for his recovery, your thoughts drifting back to a distant, haunting memory of the only time illness dared to lay its claim upon you.
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You laid in your small makeshift bed, your frail form draped beneath layers of faded linen. It was a peculiar day, the air thick with the scent of impending rain, yet it did nothing to soothe the searing discomfort that coursed through her. At the tender age of eight, you found herself ensnared by a relentless cough, the kind that rattled your small chest and left you gasping for respite.
Your mother, Esther, hovered close, a blend of nurturing instinct and divine desperation etched upon her face. With deft hands, she anointed your forehead with fragrant oils, whispering incantations as if the very words could weave a protective barrier against the illness that sought to ravage her youngest child. Dreamcatchers, crafted from woven twigs and adorned with feathers, hung limply around the bed, enchanting the air with their promise of sweet, undisturbed slumber.
Though young and naïve, you could sense the depths of your mother’s magic, a language that danced just out of reach of your understanding. As your body quaked with another fit of coughs, you felt an unwelcome chill enveloping you, a stark contrast to the fever that scorched your skin.
“Shh, my sweet,” Esther cooed, her voice a soft balm against the storm of her anxiety swirling within the room. She gently stroked your flushed cheek, her eyes—usually so fierce and commanding—now wide with concern, scanning every inch of her child for signs of relief.
Suddenly, the sun’s warmth spilled through the hut as the flap was pushed aside with an abruptness that startled you. With great effort, you turned your head, your heart fluttering at the sight of your father's imposing figure silhouetted in the doorway. For the briefest moment, joy sparked within you—your father had come to check on you.
Yet that joy was extinguished instantly as you watched him barely acknowledge your presence, his gaze locked onto your mother like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. “Wife,” he rumbled, his voice rough and unyielding, “Hendrik calls for you.”
Without a glance in Mikael’s direction, Esther continued her tending, damp cloth in hand as she wiped away the sweat that clung to your overheated skin. “I am busy, Mikael,” she replied, her tone firm, unyielding against her husband.
Your small frame tensed as the tension in the air thickened. Your father’s eyes darkened, annoyance flashing across his face. “He is in distress,” he pressed, his voice low, “he needs his mother.”
Fleeting uncertainty crossed your gaze as you stole a glance at your mother. Esther's lips pursed, a familiar sign of her frustration simmering just below the surface. “And she needs me more,” Esther countered defiantly.
“I will not ask you again, Esther,” Mikael’s voice was dangerous now, a rumble that hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface.
With a resigned sigh, Esther’s gaze softened as it met yours, a flicker of pain reflected within, as she acquiesced. “I will be out in a moment.”
After a tense moment that felt like an eternity, Mikael strode from the hut, leaving a cold breeze in his wake. You could almost see your mother’s shoulders sag, the weight of contention that had filled the air lifting slightly.
Esther returned to her ministrations, fussing over you as if her very life depended on it, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your hot forehead. “Rest, my sweet. I promise, I will return.”
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The present moment snapped into focus as the soft creak of the door announced Tym's return, his hands cradling a small bowl of steaming stew that filled the air with an enticing aroma.
You offered a grateful smile as he approached, accepting the bowl with a sense of warmth that contrasted with the chill of Jaehaerys's feverish skin. Though you had no need for sustenance— in all honesty, you had no need for human food, whatsoever—it was Jaehaerys who was truly in need of nourishment. Yet the delicate strands of his silver hair were a secret you dared not expose.
With wide, innocent eyes and a pleading smile, you turned your gaze to Tym, your voice a gentle lilt. “You’ve been so gracious and accommodating, Tym. Might I trouble you for a glass of water to soothe my parched throat?”
His expression faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across his face, before it transformed into a smirk that danced across his lips, revealing a charming dimple. With a nod of understanding, he lifted himself from his seat and made for the door, ready to fulfill your request.
The moment he stepped beyond the threshold, you seized the opportunity. Raising your wrist to your mouth, you punctured a vein with your sharp fangs, allowing a few precious droplets of your vampire blood to trickle into the simmering stew. The rich, coppery liquid blended seamlessly with the bubbling broth, and just as swiftly, your wrist healed, the wound disappearing as if it had never existed.
You leaned over the sleeping form of Jaehaerys, your voice a delicate whisper entwined with the warmth of your concern. "Jaehaerys, my sweet," you murmured softly, gently brushing tousled silver strands from his forehead. "You must wake and eat."
The boy’s lips pouted, instinctively shaking his head in protest, prompting you to coo in a soothing tone as you gave him a gentle shake. "Just a few bites, darling, then you can drift back into slumber. I promise it will help."
Slowly, his violet eyes began to flutter open, blurriness giving way to confused recognition. "Munās," he murmured, the word escaping his lips like a soft caress. A tender smile graced your face at the endearing term, encouraging him along as you lifted a spoonful of the stew to his mouth. (Aunt)
As he slowly sat up, the blanket slid away, unveiling his Targaryen silver hair glistening in the soft light. With a cautious lean, he accepted the offering, his tiny bites deliberate and slow, while you continued to weave sweet encouragements into the air.
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Another harrowing cough wracked your small frame as you lay ensconced in the shadowy confines of your hut. Tears welled in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as the weight of despair pressed upon your fragile heart, specter of death lurking ever closer.
Your head turned slightly, drawn by the soft patter of footsteps crossing the threshold of your sanctuary. Hope flared within you as you believed it might be your mother returning. Slowly, you blinked open your weary eyes to behold a small boy with bright, golden hair and piercing blue eyes, peering hesitantly around the dim room.
“Nik,” you croaked, a wan smile flickering to life despite your ailment.
Niklaus met your gaze, his own lips curving into a smile that illuminated the gloom. “Baby sister,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “You’ll catch my sickness too.”
With a puff of bravado, Niklaus drew up his chest. “It’s quite all right. I was chosen as the sacrifice.”
Your small brows knit in confusion, the gravity of his words lost on your young mind. “What?”
He began to explain with a playful glint in his eyes, “Initially, Elijah offered himself but Rebekah, Kol, and Henrik voted, and I was chosen to come instead.”
“Why?” you asked, a small pout forming on your lips.
A mischievous grin danced across your brother’s face as he playfully drew out a small box he had been clutching. "Because, dear sister, I've brought gifts."
With that revelation, your sickened facade brightened, and hope rekindled within you. “Really?” you gasped.
“Indeed,” Klaus said, settling beside you, the box nestled comfortably in his lap. He opened it with care, revealing its treasures to you.
"Rebekah crafted this lovely flower crown just for you,” he announced, lifting out a quaint yet ruffled circlet made of daisies. A tender smile spread across your lips as Niklaus gently raised your head to place the crown upon it.
“Now, this is from Elijah,” he continued, holding up a delicate bracelet of tiny beads before sliding it onto your wrist. “He thought it would add a touch of color to your day.”
A frown grew on his face as he reached for yet another item. “Henrik was at a loss for what to offer, and Kol…” he hesitated, clearly exasperated, “Kol handed you an acorn.”
A delighted giggle escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all. “An acorn? Why on earth would he do that?”
“He thought it would be amusing,” Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, while you giggled in actual amusement, as he placed the acorn in your palm.
You gazed up at Niklaus with the purest adoration, your voice softening as you asked, “Now, what did you bring me?”
He hesitated for a moment, a shy smile creeping onto his face as he rummaged through the box once more. Finally, he withdrew a small wooden figurine, expertly carved into the likeness of a girl with delicate wings. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the beauty before you. “A fairy,” you gasped, snatching it from his hands with reverence.
“It took quite a bit of time to craft her,” your brother admitted, a hint of bashfulness coloring his cheeks.
Cradling the wooden figurine as if it were spun from glass, you murmured in awe, “I love her. I shall name her Nikola, after you.”
“I’m honored, baby sister,” Klaus replied, his smile brightening, though a shadow of concern lingered in his azure gaze as it wandered over your frail form.
A shadow fell upon the moment as a voice broke through, startling you both. “Niklaus,” came Finn’s stern tone from the entrance, his figure half-illuminated in the dim light, his gaze aflame with concern. “You ought not to be here.”
“I was merely—”
“It’s far too dangerous,” Finn interjected, his tone unyielding. “You must leave at once.”
Niklaus huffed, frustration laced in his voice. “Very well, I’ll take my leave.”
With a final, gentle squeeze of your hand, he cast a glare at Finn as he slipped out of the hut.
“He was only bringing me gifts,” you murmured to your brother softly, seeking to defend Klaus.
Finn turned his gaze upon you, his features softening entirely. “He is but a boy, sister, which means his body is more susceptible to the fever.”
“Oh,” you replied, frowning in understanding. Your eyes flickered to him, a hopeful smile gracing your lips. “But you have a gift for me as well, yes?”
A roguish grin unfurled on Finn’s lips as he lowered himself beside you, leaning in conspiratorially. “Indeed... my delightful company."
You pouted, feigning dissatisfaction at his answer. Finn relented swiftly, his eyes twinkling. “Fear not, sweet sister, for I come bearing treasures.”
From behind his back, he revealed your favorite flower—a rare middlemist bloom—its delicate petals unfurled like secrets waiting to be whispered. “But this doesn’t grow in our region,” you gasped, voice cracking yet lilting with awe.
“Indeed,” Finn replied, his expression warm as he regarded the flower. “I traveled great distances to find it, and what’s more, there’s something undeniably special about this one.”
“What is it?” you inquired, your heart racing with excitement.
“I’ve been practicing magic with Ayana,” he confessed, pride lighting his features. “And I have successfully cast a spell to ensure this flower shall never wilt.”
Your eyes widened in wonder, absorbing his words. “You mean it will remain this way forever?”
“Yes,” he affirmed gently, placing the flower delicately within your small hands. “Let it symbolize my eternal love for you.”
Your youthful heart raced at his declaration, a radiant smile gracing your lips. “Eternal, truly?”
“Indeed, my flower,” Finn replied softly.
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As that memory enveloped you, a bittersweet thought gnawed at your heart. Finn's ‘eternal love’ had faltered in the wake of your misstep, a fleeting mistake that had cast a long shadow over your bond. The pain lingered like a specter, even as you tended to Jaehaerys, carefully guiding him to sip the savory stew infused with your healing blood. Each gentle caress of your hand across his fevered brow was filled with an unspoken hope.
The tranquility was shattered, a sound like breaking glass slicing through the air, pulling you from your reverie. You whipped around, your heart racing as you caught sight of Tym, his gaze locked onto the boy child. “Tym,” you breathed, feeling a prickle of dread.
“The boy’s hair,” he spat, voice laden with accusation. “It’s silver!” You flinched at the loudness of his words, your eyes darting to Jaehaerys, who, to your relief, appeared to be deep in slumber once again.
You felt a wave of dread wash over you, the boy nestled against you oblivious to the chaos. “He’s a Targaryen bastard,” you countered, your wide eyes feigning innocence, your voice a whisper of urgency.
Tym shook his head vehemently, his once warm expression now twisted by suspicion. “No, no! You called him Jaehaerys,” he exclaimed, his finger jabbing toward you like a dagger. “Today was the prince's funeral! Did ya kidnap him?”
Your heart sank, frustration simmering beneath your composed exterior. You raised your hands, palms facing him in an attempt to calm the brewing tempest, as if easing a wild beast. “No, please. Just calm down,” you urged, your tone laced with reason.
Yet a spark ignited within Tym’s gaze, transforming his concern into something darker. “Perhaps there’s a reward out for the two of you,” he sneered, the words dripping with malice. With that, he turned to leave.
But before he could take a step, you appeared before him with a feral grace that startled him. He stumbled backward, landing abruptly on his rear as shock flared in his eyes. “What the fuck are you?”
With a soothing tone, you replied, “I need you to calm down, Tym.” You tried, almost desperately, to appeal to a semblance of mercy within him.
In a frantic attempt to escape, he began to crawl away, but you were far too quick. Swiftly, you seized his chin in a gentle yet firm grip, directing his gaze to meet yours, channeling your compulsion. “Calm down,” you urged, feeling the power of your words weave through the air like tendrils of shadow.
Gradually, you noticed the tension in his shoulders ease, yet a gnawing uncertainty tugged at your mind. Yes, you were a stranger to him, but the haste with which he spoke of rewards for both you and Jaehaerys left a bitter taste on your tongue.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, you whispered, “What were your intentions with me?”
The compulsion settled over him like a shroud, and he answered without hesitation, the words spilling forth in a smooth, almost languid cadence. “A pretty girl comes to a lonely man's door. It’s practically a gift from the gods.”
“And what if I did not reciprocate those feelings?” The question escaped your lips with a pang of trepidation. Deep down, you feared you already knew the answer.
Tym shrugged, his gaze locked with yours, a reckless glimmer in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a girl, and I'm a man.”
A weary sigh escaped you, disappointment settling like a stone in your chest. You dropped back onto your heels, your mind swirling with the implications of his words. In a world where predators lurked in shadows, your thoughts danced with the darkest possibilities—his intent to claim you while you slept, disregarding your will and robbing you of your decency, mere steps away from a child.
Deep sorrow enveloped you, thick and suffocating. With men like this, the glimmer of hope for any kind man felt like a cruel joke. “I genuinely believed you to be different—a bit strange, yes, but kind.” Your voice softened, laced with disbelief. “And now I see you possess the same animalistic traits as the rest.”
You paused, considering your next words with the weight they carried. “But I am not just any girl. And because of that I have the power and strength to protect other girls that cannot protect themselves.”
“And to do that,” you murmured, a chilling intensity igniting your gaze as your veins darkened beneath your skin, your pupils transformed into hungry slits, your fangs stretching long and sharp as moonlight kissed your features, “I must rid the world of men like you.”
Panic flared in his eyes, tangible and raw, yet your compulsion anchored him in place, keeping him eerily calm as you leaned closer, your breath a whisper of silk. “I haven’t fed in days. Soothe your mind by knowing that I shall savor every drop.”
With that, you descended, your fangs finding purchase in the soft flesh of his neck. His warm blood surged into your mouth, hot and intoxicating, even as he struggled against the inevitability of his fate, the frantic thumps of his heart echoing the finality of the moment, while his protests faded into a desperate silence — knowing it was a battle he could not win.
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You lay in a restless slumber, your breaths ragged and shaky, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on your brow like dewdrops in the pale light of morning. Once again, Esther softly dabbed a cool, damp cloth over your forehead, worries etched deep in her face as she watched her youngest child struggle to summon the strength to open her weary eyes.
“Mama,” Your voice emerged, frail and whispered, like the rustle of leaves in a faint breeze.
Esther’s warm, deep-brown eyes locked onto her daughter’s, and a bittersweet smile graced her lips, tinged with sadness. “Hush, my love, I am here.”
The young girl gaze held Esther’s, filled with a mixture of trust and fear, as your mother’s tender hands continued to soothe your frail, sickly form. Yet, as the heat surged through your small body, you could not suppress the trembling words that slipped from your lips, “Am I going to die?”
For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze in the hut. Esther’s hand stilled, her heart clenched tightly in her chest. She diverted her gaze, struggling to conceal the tears that threatened to spill, the weight of her daughter’s words echoing in the silence. After a brief struggle for composure, she raised her hand to wipe away the dampness from her cheeks, looking down at the precious girl before her with fierce determination. “No, my sweet. You shall be just fine.”
A heavy stillness enveloped the hut, the world outside a distant murmur as your small voice broke through it once more, tremulous yet bold, “Will Father be sad if I die?”
Esther felt her heart shatter at those words, each syllable a dagger to her already broken spirit. Mikael harbored disdain for you, a constant reminder of his wife's unforgivable betrayal. Fortunate that he remained unaware of Niklaus’s lineage, yet Esther’s sweet daughter nevertheless yearned for her father’s love, seeking any semblance of affection in a heart hardened by resentment.
In that moment, Esther summoned what remained of her resolve, donning the familiar mask of tenderness, “Of course, he shall be, my star.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, yet she couldn’t bear to shatter the fragile threads of hope that clung to her daughter.
As your eyes fluttered shut once more, the lull of despair washed over Esther. She turned away, struggling to disguise the stark truth that loomed ever closer: her precious child hung at death's door. She could not bear the loss of another—never again, not after Freya.
Flaws ran deep in Esther, but they were borne of circumstances beyond her control; the bond she shared with you was a force unto itself. Perhaps it was the innocence of her youngest that drew Esther in, or perhaps it was the stark contrast to her other children. The warmth of your light was undeniable, a glow that illuminated the fears she dared not confront. Still, she would love them all—though deep down her heart loved you most.
With a surge of fierce determination, she pressed her hand to her abdomen, feeling the promise of new life stirring within her—a babe that once again grew. Yet the sacrifice loomed before her.
Night had cast its velvety cloak over the world; the moon watched solemnly as her family succumbed to slumber. Gathering the materials for her desperate ritual, Esther prepared with practiced hands. The moment felt both heavy and sacred. With a steady resolve, she sliced her palm, crimson droplets spilling forth to dance upon your fevered brow. Then, she cradled her daughter’s head, her other hand resting over her own womb.
With a whisper that quivered in the air like a prayer, Esther began to murmur the spell—repeating it like a mantra, “Hanc vitam in eam.”
"Hanc vitam in eam."
"Hanc vitam in eam."
Each iteration grew more fervent, woven with her love and desperation, a last thread of hope tethering her spirit to your fading vitality.
When she finally opened her eyes, a wave of relief washed over her like the dawn breaking through the darkest night. Your strained features had eased, the pallor giving way to the flush of life. A sob escaped Esther, raw and unrestrained, as she sank beside her precious child, lifting the fragile frame into her arms.
All that mattered now was the warmth of your body against her own, even as blood seeped unnoticed from between her legs, the physical price of her choice.
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A/N — actually confirmation that reader is esther's fav. also to go in more detail of reader's infatuation with finn, it's mostly because in her time, you were raised to become the perfect wife, and her mother always used to tell her, "when looking for the right husband, he should be like finn." obviously she took that too literally.
Next up, Reader returns to King's Landing...
Anywayyy
ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪ���ᴀᴇʟsᴏɴs
(can you tell I made this within an hour ;) )
Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(
@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear
@lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @ln8118 @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids @Lokisgoddessofpower
@anakilusmos @spacexdrago @strawberymilktea @snowtargaryen @fiction-fanfic-reader @feelingfaye @sxlsvv @crystal-siren @no-one0804 @tojisprincess @meraxesruin @supernaturalstilinski @talilosha@emerald-error20 @athanasia-day @mynameisbaby9 @lexi-anastastia-astra-luna @siriusblackrunmeover @shilphy87 @moonstruksandco
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atouchofflourish · 1 year ago
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I can still feel the steamy breeze on that hot July summer morning as I was watering our wildflowers. I was admiring new seedlings among flourishing flowers, and I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “Levi is here.” In that moment, I could feel God’s wraparound presence and peace. The following day, I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive. This positive test came four weeks after the Cottons…
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cntloup · 9 months ago
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teeny tiny mention of miscarriage and injuries, fluffy fluff
Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
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His eyes sparkle with utter adoration, locked on her adorable chubby face as she babbles and thrashes her arms around. 
He cradles your baby against his chest and softly coos into her ear, slowly lulling her to sleep as you rest after you got back home from the hospital despite your insisting that you can take care of her while he rests, not straining his shoulder too much.
But he persisted that you still need time to heal, and he's right, physically and mentally after what happened to you and the near loss of your child. 
The image of you holding your baby while shedding tears of pure joy replays in his mind and before he knows it, his own tears start to run down his cheeks. 
He feels overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through him, the love he feels for both of you engulfing his whole being. 
And he promises that he will love her as his own child. 
He gently lowers her tiny form in the crib and tucks her in, whispering ‘good night’ to her. 
He makes his way to the bed where you’re sleeping, or so he thinks. 
He sits on the edge of the bed and softly caresses your cheek with the pad of his fingers. 
“I love you.” he murmurs quietly. It took all his might to keep his feelings hidden all this time. And he finally feels the leaden weight of the words lift off his heart. 
A loving smile forms on your lips and you open your eyes, slowly turning to him. 
“I love you too, Simon.” you respond, your voice so tender as a soft caress, making a sense of relief wash over him. 
You sit up on the bed and cup his face in your hand, gazing into each other’s eyes with the new blooming emotion between you. 
He slowly leans in, waiting for you to make the final move and you don’t hesitate to lock your lips together, kissing him ardently while all the love and devotion you feel for one another radiating off you, your souls dancing together as you embrace each other. 
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drewsbuzzcut · 6 months ago
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Moving On and On, So Very Bittersweet
Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader
A visceral in doses fic
Warnings: mentions miscarriage, anxiety, nerves, slight angst, and SMUT
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Today has been a bit of a haze and you’re not even close to putting your plan in motion yet. You’re finally ready to have sex again after a long, grueling 5 months. The healing process after your miscarriage has been one of the hardest things ever, and it’s still rough sometimes. However, time has healed you mentally and you feel ready to rekindle that spark between yourself and Mat. This morning you made a phone call to your best friend, Beverly, asking if she’d do you the grace of taking care of your babies for the night. Luckily she agreed. You had to run around the house to pack their bags and feed them before they were picked up. Now you’re setting up for tonight, impatiently waiting for Mat to walk through the front door.
The familiar beep of Mat’s car doors locking alerts you instantly. You feel nerves of anticipation and excitement fill you up as you trot over to the front door. You throw it open before he can even insert the key into the keyhole. You’re greeted with his shocked expression and his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest.
“Hi, baby,” you mutter, words muffled by the material of his button up.
You practically cuddle into his body as warmth emanates from all around him.
“Hi, pretty girl. I missed you today,” he says back, looking down into your eyes.
An overwhelming swell of love pumps through your veins while you stare at the man you’re insanely in love with.
“The kids are awfully quiet today,” Mat concludes, so used to the bustling sound of his kids coming to greet him when he first gets home.
“They actually aren’t here. They’re with Beverly for the night. We’ll go pick them up tomorrow morning,” you explain.
You fiddle with the hairs at the nape of his neck to distract yourself from feeling any type of anxiety. You’re trying not to let any of your fears get to you. You know you’re ready to move forward with Mat, but you can’t help but feel jittery. It’s almost like it’s your first time all over again.
“That’s nice. What’s the occasion?” Your husband’s hands wander along your back, his fingertips pressing into any knots you may have.
“No occasion, I just want some quality time with my husband,” you murmur and press a kiss onto the side of his neck.
For a moment you feel him freeze because he’s not used to you being affectionate as of late, but then you feel him melt into you. He doesn’t know that it eases your anxiety.
“I can definitely get behind that. I missed being able to be with my wife without the babies crawling all over us. Don’t get me wrong, I love our children, but I love having some time for just you and me,” Mat grins, tugging you further into him.
“Me too, baby. How about we order some takeout?” You ask.
“Deal.”
-
“That was so good,” you comment as you relax into the cushions of the couch.
“Sushi is always good,” Mat agrees, welcoming you into his arms.
You pepper kisses along his collarbones and all the way up to his jaw. Your hands press into his chest and you smirk when you feel his heartbeat start to pick up. After your soft attack is over, you pull him into a hug. You feel so thankful for your husband, and you hate that you haven’t been showing it as often.
“It’s so nice to be able to enjoy a meal with you, baby. We haven’t had a date this week, so I’m glad we were able to do this,” Mat expresses his gratitude.
“Maybe we should cap this over with a nice bath and maybe a glass of wine,” you suggest, eyes peering into his innocently.
“I like that idea very much,” he responds and leads you to your bathroom.
After setting up a warm bubble bath and grabbing some wine, you finally sink into the water. You welcome the liquid to soothe your muscles and you’re sure that Mat welcomes the same feeling. You melt into his chest, feeling the comfort of having him wrapped around you.
“Mat,” you mutter so quietly that he almost doesn’t catch it.
“Yeah, babe?” He leans up, so he’s flushed against your back and his hands wrap around your stomach.
You fight the chill that dares to roll through your spine and try to calm the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You clear your throat and say, “these past months have been so hard on us. I’m still a little sad, but I miss feeling connected to you-“
“We're always connected, even if it's not sexually. You're my wife, my soulmate, and my everything," Mat adds in. His eyes are filled with sincerity, making you relax a bit.
“I know, baby. In this case, I mean I miss being sexually connected. Seeing you be the best daddy, picking up my slack, and just being the best husband, has made me insanely horny for you,” you finish with a giggle, feeling awfully shy. Your cheeks simmer under Mat’s smirk.
There are no words to express how grateful you are for your husband. While you’ve been dealing with your grief, Mat has been the ultimate partner. Not that he wasn’t before the miscarriage, but he’s definitely made things easier for you during your fragile state. That’s not to mention that he’s been so patient with you. He didn’t push you to get better, nor did he push you to have sex before you were ready. Mat’s the definition of the perfect husband, perfect father.
"Are you 100% sure you're ready for me?" Your husband asks, wanting to be completely certain that you're not feeling any hesitation.
“I’m sure. I want you,” you state firmly, pushing yourself as close as humanly possible to him.
His hands fall from the small of your back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you.
You kiss up his throat, licking a line up one of his veins.
“On our bed,” you make sure that he knows he can’t have you until you’re in the comfort of your bed.
-
“Wait here,” Mat says, rubbing your arms and leaving you in your ensuite while he disappears into the master bedroom.
You finish off your skincare and body care routine. You feel so giddy, like you can jump and run around. You’re not sure what your husband is doing and it makes you excited. The lust has already started to pool in your core, waiting for Mat to ignite the fire within you.
You can’t wait to get your hands on him and feel his muscles flex underneath your palms. You yearn to hear his moans close to your ear and feel him hard and thick inside of you.
“You can come out now,” his words break you out of your daydream.
You slip your robe on and anxiously open the door. Your jaw drops to the floor and your heart grows three sizes upon seeing candles set up around your room. The comforter and pillows on the bed are fluffed up. Your shared bedroom has never felt so intimate and safe.
“I love you and I’m proud of you for everything. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m glad you’re my wife as well as the mother of our children,” he whispers in your ear with his arms wrapped around you.
“I love you more,” your response is tearful, but so thankful at the same time.
When Mat lets go, he waits for you to make the first move. He doesn’t want to rush you, or make you feel like things have to progress quickly. He’d be fine with kissing you in bed if that’s all you wanted.
You let your silk robe slink down your body, the intimidating bed right in front of you. With a deep inhale and exhale of air, you settle in the plush of your blankets and pillows. The candlelight breaks through the dim lighting of the room, highlighting the intimacy of the atmosphere.
When you take a glance at your husband, his eyes are already on you, taking in the sight of you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. Your breath hitches in your throat and you subconsciously clutch the sheets and tightly close your legs. Mat’s eyes soften at your rigid form, not used to seeing you so timid.
You’re left in silence while you watch your husband drop the towel from around his waist. Finally kneeling on the bed and scooting closer to you, he reaches out to your legs. You unintentionally jump at the touch of his hand, but quickly will yourself to calm down.
It’s Mat, your husband, he’s in love with you and will always take care of you.
He gently pries your legs apart, eyes on your reaction as he slots himself between your legs. He takes in your naked form, one he’s seen a million times and one he’ll never get tired of. He catches sight of your tattoo on your lower abdomen. “Baby,” sits there proudly, remembering your baby that you never had the opportunity to meet. He traces the black ink, letter for letter. Tears start to form in your eyes, but you don’t let them slip. You know it’s okay to be sad, but you don’t want to dampen the moment.
“Are you doing okay?” Your husband asks. The gentle drag of his fingertips make goosebumps prickle at your skin.
“Yes, baby,” you respond and grab onto his wrist, moving his hand over your heart.
You both stay still for a minute, letting him feel the beat of your heart under his palm while you caress his jaw.
“Tell me if you don’t want to do this,” Mat makes sure you’re completely ready to get intimate again.
This time you have no hesitation.
“I want you.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips while he spreads your arousal around your waiting core. After telling him that you were ready in the bathtub, things got a little touchy and it was basically your foreplay.
He grabs his length, dragging the tip through your folds in a small tease. He nudges it against your clit, making your body already feel fluttery.
After coating himself in your wetness, he slowly starts to push into you. Your hole clenches down on his angry, leaking head and your body lurches forward.
“Wait, don’t move. I- I need some time to adjust,” you say, halting his movement with a hand on his torso.
“Take however much time you need, baby. I don’t want to hurt you,” he assures you, his hands rubbing at your long legs.
After a long pause, you start to get antsy. The feeling of pleasure lingers in the forefront of your mind and you want nothing but to feel all of him.
“I want you closer,” you demand, your arms going around his neck and pulling him closer to you.
You need the press of his body on yours, feeling his heartbeat thud against yours. It makes all your worries dissipate.
“I need you, Maty. Please make me feel good,” you whimper and it’s all he needs to hear to start his movements.
He pulls out slowly and gently pushes back in, effectively pulling soft moans from your mouth.
His pace only increases a tad bit, but each thrust is deep and punctuated with a passionate roughness that makes your insides all gooey. You hold onto him firmly, your fingers leaving imprints in his skin. Your legs wrap around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into the small of his back, keeping him sheathed inside of you.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re so wet for me,” Mat moans in your ear before burying his face in the crook of your neck.
His lips tenderly peck at your pulse point, but eventually it leads to him sucking your skin into his mouth.
“Oh my god,” you shriek and your body arches off the bed.
His cock hits all the right spots and repeatedly prods into your sweet spot. The veins on his length feel so good gliding along your slick walls. Each time your greedy pussy sucks him back in, you’re met with fire surging through your veins.
It’s been so long since you’ve felt such euphoria.
“More,” you beg, pulling your husband away from your neck so you can look at him.
His forehead is lined with sweat, curls sticking around his face. His eyes shine with pleasure, and saccharine moans fall from his lips.
“More,” you repeat.
His large paws grip your thighs and spread your legs open. His hips rut into you, allowing your orgasm to bubble up. You claw your nails into the skin of his back, barreling down as you take his long strokes. His strong body moves with yours in perfect synchrony because you won’t let him do all the work. No, you rock your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.
You smash your lips on his, letting him stick his tongue down your throat. Once your pussy starts to clamp down on Mat’s length, he knows you’re close. He pushes your spread legs closer to your chest, so you can take him deeper and so your orgasm can rip through your body.
“Yes! Just like that,” you scream, eyes shut and hands still attached to Mat.
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he says hotly.
The knot in your stomach snaps and you throw your head back, mouth falling open in the form of a silent moan. Your body quivers as you release around him. He lets go of your limbs and returns to his softer thrusts, working you through your orgasm.
“I love you,” your husband whispers against your lips before pecking them.
“I love you,” you moan, body still tingling.
The pulsing of your walls signals his own release and soon he’s pumping you full. Usually Mat’s hips will move crazily as he works through his orgasm, but this time his movements are slow and sensual. He kisses your cheek, mumbling incoherently into your skin.
“You’re so perfect,” Mat whispers, leaning on his forearms so he can stare at you.
You’re doused in a post-coital glow and you’re sporting the most perfect smile.
Mat traces the slope of your nose and the cupid’s bow of your lips.
“You’re my everything,” you say back, giggling when he nudges his nose against yours.
“You know, I still can’t believe you’re my wife,” he hums and lays his forehead on yours.
Your eyelashes flutter against each other as you both meld together. You’ve missed everything that’s involved with being intimate with the love of your life.
“You’re so lucky,” you joke and poke at his ribs, making him drop his body on top of yours. You let out a dramatic grunt, but you welcome his weight.
Silence fills the room as you massage your husband’s scalp and softly glide your hands up and down his back. You actually thought he fell asleep until you heard his sniffles.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask, voice full of concern.
Softly you nudge him off of you, so you can face him. There’s nothing clearer than having a conversation and seeing their expressions.
“I don’t know how to move past this. I keep thinking about the baby you could be pregnant with right now. I’d be able to feel them kick and we’d be able to hear their heartbeat. Instead we never got to know them,” Mat sobs and you pull him into your chest.
You kiss the top of his head and try to wrap yourself around him, hoping to help him calm down.
You know Mat has been hurting, you just didn’t know it was this bad. A big chunk of you feels terrible for not being able to be there for him the way he was there for you.
“It’s hard and it sucks. There’s not much that we can do, but try to enjoy the babies we do have. It’s okay to be sad and cry. I’m sorry that I haven’t picked up on your true feelings. You can talk to me. I don’t care what state I’m in, you can talk to me. We’re a team and we’ll have to work through it together,” you try your best to comfort him.
You know words don’t offer much, because it’s difficult to process losing something you’ve never known you had. You do hope that your love can help him the way his love has done wonders for you.
“I mean I’m fine most of the time. Then I start to think about what they’d look like and it just ruins me,” he continues.
“I think about it, too. We’re going to be okay, though. It’ll take some time, but we’ll heal. We’ve already come a long way since it happened. I love you so much, Mathew. I’m so sorry that this is happening to us,” you mutter through the lump in your throat and the tears falling from your eyes.
“I love you.” He kisses your lips desperately as if you’re his only source of air. As of right now, you’re each other’s guiding light. The miscarriage has been one of the hardest things you’ve had to experience, but it brought you and Mat closer together in ways you would’ve never expected.
a/n: This took me so long, but I hope you enjoy it. I loved writing it🫶
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pedrospatch · 2 years ago
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a safe haven l five
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist
summary: You and Ellie have a talk outside your house in the middle of the night and you discover her secret; Joel asks you one more time to tell him to back off and you don’t comply.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) mention of reader’s injuries from the previous chapter (very minimal use of color description, i try to keep it was vague as possible), mentions of domestic violence, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy loss, reader describes her miscarriage (mention of cramping/bleeding), infedility. SMUT. fingering, oral sex (f receiving).
Word Count: 7.5k
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You stare up blankly into the pitch black darkness of your bedroom—at Luke’s request, you’d drawn the linen curtains over the window, keeping out the moonlight so it wouldn’t disturb his slumber. Unable to see the hour on your watch, you can’t be too sure as to what time it is, but you’re fairly certain it’s well past the middle of the night, possibly even past the earlier hours of the morning. The harder that you try forcing yourself to fall asleep, the more you find yourself tossing and turning under the covers in frustration. It’s beginning to break what little sanity you have left and eventually, you realize it’s better just to give up on sleep altogether.
Luke is laying beside you, although he’d rolled over onto his side with his back to you. He had gone straight to bed after dinner while you’d been washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You often have very little choice but to fulfill your wifely duties in the bedroom, but lately, Luke had been so tired that he hadn’t even bothered with you, and for that, you’d also been grateful. You had grown to loathe whenever he touched you, it disgusted you whenever he would kiss you or put his hands on you in an intimate manner—you couldn’t even stand it when he so much as breathed in your direction.
Being careful not to wake him, you swing your legs over the side of the mattress and climb out of bed, quietly padding your way over into the bathroom. Closing the door, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging on the wall above the porcelain sink. You begin to silently inspect your reflection, silently praying that you’d somehow made it through another incident with Luke unscathed. Though your face still stings, thankfully no mark from the blow had been left behind—the same can’t be said for your upper arm. Your skin is blemished, soft flesh tender and irritated from the iron grip he’d had on you earlier in the kitchen. It’s splotched, and the harder you stare at it, the easier it is to make out the shape of his fingerprints, an injury you can’t exactly blame on running into the door or an accidental kick from a horse.
It would be hell having to wear a shirt with longer sleeves to cover yourself up in this heat while working outside in the paddock and inside the stables—the mere thought of it alone makes you sweat. Either that or you can hide away at home for a few days until the marks heal, or at least start to fade. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d have to pretend to be sick and miss your work duties long enough for an injury to heal.
You take the thin, cotton gray robe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door and tug it on over your sleepwear before turning off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. Brushing past your bed, you slip out of the bedroom. You’re careful to be quiet as you swiftly make your way downstairs and dip out through the front door and onto the porch. During the day, the weather is scorching, but evenings aren’t quite as bad—you wrap the billowy fabric of your robe around yourself as you sink down, taking a seat on the top step of the porch.
“Fuck,” you mutter softly.
Covering your face with both hands, you shake your head as you will yourself to keep it together—you fail at holding back the incoming tears. You curse again, angry at yourself for crying over Luke. Bastard doesn’t deserve a single tear, and yet, the number of them you’d shed over him in the last couple of years would be enough to power the hydroelectric dam outside the town’s walls.
You lift a hand to your mouth and muffle your sobs, but one or two slip out into the silence of the night. Not that it matters, because no one’s around to hear them. Besides the patrolmen working the wall on the opposite end of the settlement, everyone is at home, fast asleep in their beds. No one in their right mind was up at this hour if they didn’t have to be. Or so you’d thought.
The familiar sound of Ellie’s voice saying your name startles you, prompting you to let out a loud, audible gasp as your head snaps up and whips to the side. Instinctively, you reach up and quickly, almost furiously, wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your robe. “Ellie?” you say her name in a confused, questioning manner as she approaches. Though your voice is thick with your emotions, your concern for her is still evident in your tone. “What are you doing outside at this time of night? What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”
“I couldn’t really sleep, so I decided to take a stroll. Wanted to get some fresh air,” she says. She draws closer to you and in the soft, dim glow of the porch light, she notices the tear stains that streak the sides of your face. “You know, I thought I heard someone crying and for a minute, I could’ve sworn I was losing my fucking shit or something. But I guess not.” Pausing, she shoves her hands into the packets of her plaid pajama pants. “You okay? And before you lie to me and say that you’re fine, just know that I’m not blind and I’m as hell not fucking stupid, either.”
You could have laughed—you actually almost do.
The girl’s too smart for her own good.
“Mind if I sit with you?” Ellie asks, gesturing with a nod of her head to the spot beside you.  
You nod and as she sits down, your hand wraps itself around your sore arm. It’s not like she can see it through the sleeve of your robe, but it’s a force of habit. Hiding this, concealing that—covering it all up.
It’s wired into your brain.
Ellie pulls her hands out of her pockets and brings one of them onto your bare knee in a soft, light slap. “Alright, princess. Fess up.” She’d pinned you with that nickname since the night she had seen you in a dress at the party. Nudging your side with her elbow, she continues to say, “Talk to me. What happened?”
“Ellie—” You abruptly stop, realizing it’s a waste of breath trying to convince her that nothing is wrong. You’d gotten to know just how stubborn that she could be. Exhaling a sigh of defeat, you confess, “I had a fight with Luke.”
“What did he do?”
Perplexed, you turn and raise an eyebrow at her. Ellie still hadn’t had the chance to meet Luke, and after what he’d said about her, you had every intention of keeping it that way—you want him to stay far, far away from her. Still, her assumption about him being the one at fault catches you off guard. It makes you wonder just how observant the teenager really is and whether or not she has any preconceived notions about your marriage. “What makes you think that it was him? How do you know it wasn’t my fault?”
Ellie scoffs, “Please. What on earth could little miss perfect possibly do wrong?”
Another one of her silly nicknames for you.
Unable to help yourself, you crack a small smile.
You release a breathy little laugh and feel another tear slide down the side of your face. Reaching up, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “I’m not perfect, Ellie. I’m far from it, actually,” you tell her, quietly. “I haven’t always been the best wife—definitely not a perfect one, that’s for damn sure. You might not believe me, but I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the past, and those mistakes really caused a rift between us that we were never quite able to repair.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Aw, come on. What could you have done that was so fucking terrible?”
You sigh.
“When my father got sick, I let myself drift away. I just had so much on my plate between learning how to take care of the horses and looking after my father as his health deteriorated. It was so overwhelming and I just—I shut Luke out.” You don’t have the slightest clue as to why you’re confessing any of this to a fifteen year old, but it eases the heaviness, lifts a weight that you’d been carrying on your shoulders for far, far too long. “I neglected him, Ellie. I neglected him, and I neglected my marriage.” Your voice breaks off into a trembling whisper, prompting her to nudge you with her elbow once more. Though she hadn’t said anything, it was her way of encouraging you to let it out and god only knew that you needed to get the guilt off your chest and out into the open. Luke is an awful man and you don’t want to justify the terrible things he’s done to you, but you still feel partially responsible for how badly things had fallen apart, how they began crumbling long before the first time he’d ever put his hands on you. “I know Luke never forgave me for that, Ellie. In fact, I would say he fucking hates me for it.”
“Your dad was fucking dying! You had to learn how to be a veterinarian in what—a year or two?” Ellie sounds angry and it doesn’t surprise you. You know she’s grown to love you over the last couple of months—you two spend more time with one another than with anyone else and have become incredibly close. Ellie takes a moment to calm herself down before asking, “How long have you and Luke been married to each other, anyway?”
“For about a few years now. We’ve been together since I got to Jackson,” you explain. “A few months after we met, we exchanged vows in the old church that’s just up the road.”
Ellie brings her knees up and hugs them against her chest. “Can I ask you something? It’s really fucking personal, though.” She notices the amused look you toss at her and rolls her eyes. “More personal than what I’ve asked you up until now.”
“Depends. How personal are we talking?” Though you’re mostly joking, part of you is worried about what’s going to come out of the brazen teenager’s mouth. 
“How come you and Luke don’t have any kids?”
Your eyes fall down to your hands, which you’re subconsciously wringing together anxiously in your lap. “I don’t know, Ellie.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Exactly that. I don’t know.” You shrug and feel her lean against you as you elaborate on it a little further. “Once we’d realized that Jackson was just about as safe and secure as we could hope for, we tried starting a family. We wanted to have children like the other couples here in the community, but it never happened for us. I did get pregnant once. It was right before my dad got sick. I miscarried just a couple of days after taking one of those home pregnancy tests. I had just told Maria about the positive result—I was at her place when I started cramping, and then I started bleeding a little bit. Luke said it was normal for some women to experience that, but the next morning, I used the bathroom and—” You trail off, letting her piece together the last piece of the puzzle.
“Shit, I’m sorry—”
“It’s alright,” you reassure her, not wanting her to feel bad for having asked. “Anyway, after a couple of months, we decided to try for another baby, but I never got pregnant again.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the expression on her face and beat her to the punch. “And before you ask me, we don’t know who the problem is. It could be me, it could be Luke—it could be both of us for all we know. But without proper medical testing, there’s no way we can know for sure what’s going on. It’s something that we’re probably never going to figure out.”
For a moment, Ellie’s silent. 
You can feel she’s itching to ask another question, tell that it’s right there on the tip of her tongue.
“Go ahead,” you encourage her. “It’s okay.”
“Are you happy with Luke?”
You hadn’t known what to expect.
But you certainly hadn’t expected that.  
Maybe you should have. 
Masking the shock on your expression, you turn to her and say, “He’s my husband, Ellie.”
She blinks. “You didn’t answer the question.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fail you, and you quickly clamp it shut.
She’d stumped you. Hard.
After a minute, Ellie laughs, “Well, your silence answered the question a hell of a lot better than you fucking did, princess.” She sees you wring your hands together again and her grin fades. She speaks again, her tone going serious. “I don’t get it. If you’re not happy with him, then why not leave and find someone you can actually be happy with?”
“Ellie—”
“Come on, I see how all the men around here look at you,” she scoffs, shaking her head. 
“Elle, please,” you sigh in exasperation. “That’s not true.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and peers at you.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I know Joel’s definitely got a thing for you—he’s got a thing for you big time.”
You stiffen beside her. 
Fuck. 
“And I know you’ve got a thing for him too.” Ellie’s eyes glimmer mischievously, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smirk as she watches the color drain from your face.
Say something, you silently urge yourself. Anything. 
“Ellie, I’m married,” you manage to stammer out.
Ellie snorts and shoots you a knowing look. “Listen, princess. It’s like I told you. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid. I know something happened between you two in Ranger’s stall right before me and Dina walked in.”
Again, she has you at a complete loss for words.
“So,” she prompts. “Who kissed who first?”
“Fuck,” you mumble. Embarrassed, you drop your head into your hands, unable to look at her. “I can’t even imagine what you must think of me—”
She touches your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Surprised, you lift your head and turn to meet her gaze. 
“I think you’re someone who just wants to be happy,” she states. “And for some fucking reason I don’t think I will ever understand, I’m guessing that Joel makes you happy?”
“I like him a lot, Ellie. Since the moment I first saw him back during the winter, there was something that drew me to him,” you admit, feeling your cheeks grow warm. After a minute, you squint at her and chuckle. “You probably find that pretty weird, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Really fucking weird,” Ellie replies, causing you to laugh again. “Joel’s a different breed, man. Joel is—well, Joel is Joel. I didn’t see that asshole crack a smile until weeks after I first met him. We come here and not only do you have smiling—you got him to fucking dance at a party in front of a bunch of people. You might not think anything of it, but if you knew the Joel that I met a year ago, the Joel who hated the whole world and every motherfucker in it, you’d be shocked.”
You blurt the question before you can stop yourself. “How exactly did you and Joel wind up together, anyway?”
Ellie’s eyes widen slightly. “Um, I met him back in the Boston QZ.”
Suddenly, she seems nervous. Afraid, even.  
Whatever secrets Ellie carries, she can’t speak of them—and you respect that.
“It’s okay,” you assure her, shaking your head. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, alright?”
She nibbles the inside of her cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—I do. I haven’t been able to tell anyone and it’s been weighing down on me for months now. It’s the reason I can’t fucking sleep at night. It’s on my mind almost all day, every fucking day,” she confesses with an exhausted sigh. “I know if there’s one person that I can trust to tell, it’s gonna be you and only you.”
Patiently, you wait for her to make her choice.
Ellie sighs again.
“If I do tell you, I need you to promise me a couple things—the first is that you won’t fucking freak out on me.”
“I won’t freak out on you,” you swear. 
“And the second is that you can’t tell Romeo that I told you anything about what I’m about to tell you, no matter what,” she warns you. “Got it?”
“Oh, please don’t call him that,” you mutter with a small shake of your head. She narrows her eyes at you and you hold your hands up. “Don’t worry, Ellie. Whatever we talk about tonight, it stays between the two of us. I promise.”
“Okay.” Ellie inhales a deep breath, then exhales it slowly before she lifts her arm. Slowly, she peels back the sleeve of her shirt and holds her arm out for you to see.
“Ellie,” you gasp her name softly. Taking it into your hands, your eyes glaze over what appears to be a large, healed bite wound. After a moment, you look back up at her in complete disbelief. “Is this from—?”
She nods. “Yeah. I got bit a year ago, but I never got sick.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I’m immune.” Ellie withdraws her arm, tugging her sleeve back down into place. That’s when she finally begins to tell you the entire story, beginning to end. She spends the next hour sparing absolutely no details as she recounts each and every one of the events from the abandoned mall in the Boston QZ right down to the Firefly hospital in Salt Lake City.
She tells you about her best friend, Riley. She tells you about Marlene and the Fireflies. She tells you about Joel and his former smuggling partner, Tess, and how Marlene had entrusted them to smuggle Ellie out of Boston. She tells you all about how she and Joel had spent several months traveling on foot halfway across the country to get her to where she needed to be. Losses, near fatal injuries, failures—Ellie spills it all right into your lap, leaving you speechless.
“Joel told me there’s a bunch more people like me who are immune. He said they’ve stopped looking for a cure.” Ellie’s eyes glaze over with tears, but she furiously blinks them back. “I shouldn’t even be here. I should be dead. But I’m not. I’m living in an actual fucking town, living a decent life. I’m going to fucking parties when I should really be dead.”
Finally, you find your voice.
“Ellie, don’t say that,” you say, softly. “That’s not true.”
“It is. I should be fucking dead, just like Riley. Like Tess. Like Sam—”
You turn, angling your body towards hers. You want to reassure her—but you don’t want to dismiss her feelings, either. “Ellie, I can’t even imagine how you must feel after everything you’ve been through, so I won’t sit here and pretend that I can.” Lifting your hands, you take her face between your palms and hold it gingerly, your thumb brushing a stray tear that had slipped and rolled down her cheek. “But if you’re still alive, it’s for a reason.”
“I thought I had a reason,” she mumbles. “But it’s gone now. I thought I had a purpose, but turns out I fucking don’t. My immunity, it means nothing. It meant nothing, all the fucking shit that I had to go through, that Joel had to go through—it was all for fucking nothing.”
Dropping your hands from her face, you place an arm around her and pull her close. “It might not have worked out the way you wanted it to and for that, I’m sorry,” you say, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I know nothing I say is going to make what you’re feeling just go away. But one thing is for sure, Ellie. You don’t deserve to be dead. None of what happened out there is on you. None of it is your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you’re still alive. It’s like I told you—if you’re still here, it’s for a reason.”
She sniffs. “Maybe the reason is being a thorn in your side.”
Grinning, you reach up and lightly pinch her flushed cheek, prompting her to laugh and slap your hand away. “For the record, you could never be a thorn in my side, Ellie. Not even if you tried.” You wait until her giggles subside before adding, “And just so you know, you have my word about this staying between the two of us.”
“Swear it?”
“I swear it,” you promise her with confidence. 
She flashes you a tiny, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”
A comfortable silence settles over the both of you. You take in the sounds of the night—crickets chirping, owls cooing, and you can even hear a coyote howling in the distance.
“It’s pretty late,” you say, breaking it a few minutes later when you realize how long she’d been out of bed. “You should get home now.” You stand up and hold a hand out to her, helping her up to her feet. “Come on, I’ll take you to the door.”
You walk her back over to her and Joel’s unit and stand at the foot of the porch with her.
“Hey.” Ellie turns to you. “Is it alright if I like—give you a hug or something?”
Her request takes you by slight surprise, but you nod. “Of course.”
She hesitates, at first. But then she takes a step towards you and slips her arms around your waist.
As you wrap your own around her shoulders, it suddenly dawns on you that Ellie hadn’t asked for a hug because she needed one—but because she realized that you needed one.
A minute or two passes and Ellie doesn’t let you go.
An emotional lump rises to the back of your throat and you bury your face into her soft brown hair, warm tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall.
“Ellie,” you croak her name, trying to warn her. 
“It’s okay,” she assures you. She rests her head on your chest over your heartbeat. She hears it pounding, feels it thrumming against her cheekbone.
She holds you tightly and you finally break, choking a sob into her hair. As your body shudders in her arms, she squeezes you harder, almost as if she’s trying to somehow hug your pain away.
For the first time in two years, you’re finally allowing yourself to cry in front of someone else—for the first time in two years, you don’t feel completely alone.
Suddenly, the front door of the house swings open in such an aggressive manner that it startles you apart from one another.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathes, letting out a sigh of relief as he descends the porch steps. “Ellie, what the hell are you doin’ out of bed at two o’ clock in the goddamn mornin’? I went to check up on you and you were gone! Scared the fuckn’ shit outta me—” He stops abruptly when he finally realizes she’s not alone. He steps closer and even in the darkness, he sees the tears you’re trying to wipe away. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
“Nothing,” you say, quickly. “Sorry, Joel. She was with me. We were just at my house talking out on my front porch and we lost track of time—”
He cuts you off. “Why are you cryin’?”
Ellie’s eyes helplessly bounce between the two of you.
“Joel, it’s nothing. I promise it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“The hell you are.” Joel turns to Ellie. “Go inside and get to bed. Go on now.”
“But Joel—”
He pins her with a stern look and she sighs. She gives you one more hug, a quick one, before disappearing inside the house, closing the door behind her.
“C’mere darlin’,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He leads you up the steps of his porch. The light is off, but the moon and stars light up the night sky bright enough that you’re able to make out the concern written all over his face. Joel keeps your hand in his own as he guides you to sit down on the porch swing he’d built and hung for Ellie. He sits down beside you. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you fib again. 
“Really?” He hums. “‘Cause those tears are tellin’ me a whole different story.”
You can’t help but wonder if Ellie had always been stubborn—or if she’d picked it up from Joel. The latter wouldn’t surprise you.
“I had a fight with Luke. It was on my mind and I couldn’t sleep, so I stepped outside to try and clear my head a little bit,” you explain to him, keeping everything as vague as possible. “I was sitting on my porch—Ellie couldn’t sleep either and was taking a walk when she saw me. She noticed I’d been crying and offered to keep me company for a while.”
“You had a fight with Luke,” he repeats.
“Joel—”
“Why did you two fight? He do somethin’ to you?”
You sigh. “He said something to me he knew would hit a nerve,” you tell him, hoping it’s enough of an explanation for him. “I got upset and said something stupid to him that I really shouldn’t have and we got into an argument.”
Joel squeezes your hand, momentarily hesitating.
You’re almost afraid to ask, but you do anyway. “What?”
“Are you happy with him?”
You stare at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t think I stuttered, peach. I asked if you’re happy with him.”
Pulling your hand out of Joel’s, you stand up and walk over to the wooden railing that circles his porch. You look across the road, fixing your eyes on the front door of a neighboring house.
When Ellie had asked you that question, it’d been fairly innocent.
But now that it’s Joel asking you, it’s different.
You hear the sound of his footsteps coming up behind you and swallow harshly. Slowly, you turn around to face him, though you hadn’t realized he had been so close. Your eyes meet his chest, clad in the same navy blue shirt he’d been wearing when you had dropped off your father’s guitar.
Nervously, they flicker up to meet his. “Luke is my husband, Joel.”
Joel echoes Ellie’s words. “You didn’t answer the question.”
Like father, like daughter. 
“We’re fine, Joel. Our marriage is fine. Alright?”
Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Still didn’t answer the question.”
“What does it matter to you?” you challenge him. You’re certain you know the answer to your own question. Still, part of you, the part that lacks all common sense, wants to hear it from his own mouth. You need to hear it from him. 
“I think you know why, darlin’.” He takes a step closer. He’s now standing so close that his chest touches yours.
“Joel—” You stop, unsure of what to say.
“Tell me to back off,” Joel utters the same words he’d said to you back at the stables. He leans down, inching closer and closer to you. “Please. I need you to tell me to back off right now before I do somethin’ stupid.”
You try to oblige—you really, really try to do what he’s asking of you. But you can’t.
You don’t want to.
Your heart pounds and you can hear the roar of your own blood rushing in your ears as the adrenaline shoots through your veins.
He hasn’t even touched you yet. 
“Please,” Joel nearly pleads. “Tell me to back off.”
“I can’t,” you admit, sounding as weak as you feel. “I can’t do that, Joel.”
“Why not?”
“I think you know why,” you reply, parroting his own words back to him.
He inches closer and your breaths fall from your lips in tiny, pathetic little pants. Your chest heaves as you try to steady them, but it’s useless. There’s no masking the effect he has on you, no hiding how he’s making you feel.
Joel gingerly takes the side of your face and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Baby.”
It’s ironic. Just hours ago, Luke had struck you there in a painful slap and now here is Joel, holding it so softly and so gently in his hand. His touch is comforting, it’s soothing—somehow you already know it has the power to heal the wounds you thought you’d have to live with for the rest of your life.
His other hand moves to your hip and he pulls you in even closer to him. He leans in and presses his lips to yours lightly, carefully, as if he’s testing the waters before allowing himself to take the plunge into the deep end. The moment he feels you melt right into his hands, his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, silently asking you permission for more.
Eager, your mouth parts for him and he backs you into the wooden railing as he kisses you deeper, with fervor. Your hands slide up his chest, past his wide shoulders, and tangle themselves in his soft, graying curls.
Groaning, Joel tears his mouth away from yours and pins you between himself and the railing, his lips meeting the sensitive flesh of your neck and latching on in desperation. He pushes your robe off your shoulders and it falls to the ground with a soft thud. Your breath catches in your throat as his warm, calloused hands slide up the hem of your shirt and up the length of your sides, his fingers gliding across your smooth skin.
“Joel,” you faintly whimper his name, your hands falling back down onto his shoulders. You grasp them, holding on as if you’re holding onto dear life itself.
You can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel those hands roam and explore the entirety of your body, touching every last inch of skin you have to offer him. Your mind wanders even further and you wonder how your name would sound rolling off of his tongue while he’s buried inside of you, making you his own.
“You really ain’t gonna tell me to back off,” he mumbles the realization into the hollow of your neck. Inhaling deeply, he commits your scent to memory—the sweet, subtle, fragrance of homemade milk and honey bath soap blends together with the delicate lavender from the calming salve you smother yourself in every night before bed. 
“No,” you exhale the world shakily. “I’m not. Because I don’t want you to back off.”
Joel pushes one of his hands further up your shirt, cupping one of your breasts and eliciting another whimper as he kneads the soft mound of flesh, a thumb brushing over your hard nipple. His other hand moves around your waist and he holds you close as his teeth scrape across your collarbone, nipping at it lightly.
He silently reminds himself to be careful not to leave behind marks. He can’t send you home to your husband covered in evidence.
Withdrawing his hand from underneath your shirt, he drags it down to the waistband of your thin, cotton blue shorts. His index finger skims along the elastic. 
“Joel,” you mewl his name into his chest, thighs clenching together as the arousal pools between them, drenching your panties.
Surely he has to know what he’s doing to you by now.
“What is it, my little peach?” he asks, humming against your collarbone. “What do you what?”
You dig your fingernails into his shoulders in a silent plea.
“Y’gotta tell me what you want, baby,” Joel murmurs quietly. “Ain’t doin’ anythin’ unless you tell me you want me to. Use your words, sweet girl.”
“Touch me, Joel. Please, I need you to touch me. I need you to fucking touch me,” you beg him in a low, husky voice you don’t even recognize.
Slotting his lips against yours, he does as you ask him and slips his hand down the front of your bottoms. He groans into the kiss the second he makes contact with your heat. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he curses quietly, his eyes snapping open and meeting yours in the moonlight. “Baby, you’re soakin’ wet. This all for me, sweetheart?”
You exhale sharply as he drags his index finger along your entrance—it’s then followed by a loud, audible gasp when he pushes it into your throbbing cunt.
“Joel,” you moan, prompting him to quickly cover your mouth with his once again, swallowing the noise. 
After a moment, Joel pulls away slightly and warns, “Can’t be too loud, darlin’. Kid can’t see us, but I’m willin’ to bet she’s got her ear pressed against the door tryin’ to eavesdrop. Gonna need you to be a real good girl and stay quiet for me, alright?”
You nod, biting down on your lip.
“Good.” He pushes a second finger into your pussy, relishing in how deliciously tight you feel around his digits. He can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around something else of his.
You sink your teeth harder into your lip and swallow back a moan as he curls his fingers inside of you in an upward, come hither motion, brushing against a spot in your body you didn’t even know existed. Joel withdraws them ever so slightly, then thrusts them back into you, intensifying the flames deep in your lower belly.
“Fuck, peach. Gotta fuckin’ taste you, darlin’,” he mutters as he pulls his hand away from you and takes a step backwards, giving himself enough space to sink down onto his knees.
Realizing what he means, you open your eyes and quickly stop him, pulling him back up his feet. “Joel. Wait.”
He frowns—had you changed your mind? 
“What’s the matter?”
“No one’s ever—I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.” Blazing heat scorches your cheeks as you make the admission.
Joel scoffs in disbelief. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?”
Embarrassed, you shake your head. “No. I’m not.”
He leans forward and his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making you shiver as he whispers lustfully, “Will you let me make you feel good, sweetheart?”
Your insecurities make you hesitate—but your need for him is bigger than your fears, it’s bigger than the anxieties that stem from your lack of experience. Pulling away, you meet his gaze and nod. “Please.”
Joel drops down to one knee in front of you. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic band of your shorts and slides them down your legs along with your cotton panties. He carefully frees one of your ankles from the articles of clothing and proceeds to drape your leg over his shoulder. He peppers a trail of soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching at the tender flesh there. As he draws closer and closer to where where he’s aching to be, the tip of his nose brushes lightly against your cunt and he groans your name quietly underneath his breath. He’s already intoxicated—if the scent of your sex is this fucking sweet, he’s willing to bet his life that the taste of you is going to be something beyond his wildest imagination.
You don’t trust yourself not to collapse on top of him. Reaching behind yourself, you grip the railing and your fingers claw at the wood, running the risk of painful splinters. But you don’t even think about that. You can’t think about anything except Joel Miller being on his knees in front of you.
He glances up at you and asks, “You sure ‘bout this, baby?”
“Yes,” you reply, already breathless. “I’m sure.”
He spreads your legs further and moves his head to the apex of your thighs, his mouth, hungry and searing, meeting your cunt. Nose buried in tufts of damp, silky soft curls, Joel slips his tongue between your glistening folds, flattening it out as he slowly drags it forward, savoring the taste of your slick. One of your hands abandons the railing and buries itself into his hair, your fingernails lighty scraping at his scalp. Your knee shakes and you fight to keep yourself upright, but with the way Joel’s ravishing your pussy, it’s only a matter of time before he brings you down. He moans into you, devours you like a man starved—a man who wouldn’t dare leave any part of you not licked, not sucked, not kissed. He swallows everything you have to offer him, drinks it down like it’s water.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, hearing the audible slurping coming from underneath you. It’s a sheer pleasure you’ve never experienced before—a pleasure you didn’t even know was possible. You’d never been touched like this before. Tasted like this before. 
Joel wraps his lips around your clit, taking extra care to give plenty of his attention to the swollen bundle of nerves as he slides two thick fingers into your pussy, stretching your walls.
“Fuck—Joel,” you whisper, willing yourself not to be too loud. He begins thrusting them in and out of you, gradually increasing his pace until the squelching sound of him finger fucking you breaks the calm, quiet silence of the night. All the while, his mouth remains latched onto your clit. Combined with the strokes of his fingers, the way they hit that soft, sensitive spongy spot inside your cunt, you’re approaching a release you’ve only ever give yourself when you were home alone. “God, that feels so fucking good, Joel. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop—”
And he doesn’t.
As desperate as you are, his own desperation tops it.
You’re dripping around his fingers, wetness slowly trickling down the palm of his hand, dribbling down to his wrist. Joel keeps his pace, but his tongue flattens over your clit in firm, broad strokes. He lifts his other arm and hooks it around your trembling thigh, holding you firmly in place as your body involuntarily tries squirming away from him. He keeps you right where he needs you, his face still buried in your cunt.
The pressure that’s been building between your hips nears its peak—there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching for that sweet, sweet release. “Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”
He tears his mouth away from you and looks up, whispering, “C’mon, baby. C’mon. Come for me,” he whispers hoarsely. “Wanna feel this sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers.”
You sink your teeth hard into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out his name. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, feels different than the orgasms you’d give yourself, better than the orgasms you would give yourself—after coming on his fingers, coming on your own won’t ever be the same. The muscles in your stomach tense, and then an explosion follows, sending you tumbling over the edge as you fall apart right in the palm of his hand. He slows his pace as he helps you right through the tumultuous wave of pleasure that crashes over you.
Unable to hold yourself steady any longer, you feel the leg that’s supporting your weight buckle and if it wasn’t for Joel’s hands flying to your hips, you would have collapsed to the floor.
“S’alright baby, I got you,” he reassures as he holds you up. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Joel feathers his last few kisses on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of burning fire behind in his wake. He then pulls your underwear and shorts up your legs back into place before rising to his feet with a small, labored grunt. Taking you in his arms, he pulls your body flush against his as he kisses you, allowing you to get a taste of yourself on his lips. It’s foreign but intoxicating, and it makes you drip for him all over again.
As he holds you even closer, you feel his cock brush against your hip and you moan. You squeeze an arm between your bodies and eagerly cup him in the palm of your hand through his gray sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him as he licks into your mouth. He’s hard for you and all you want is to see him, taste him, feel him. 
Breaking away from his embrace, you start to sink down to your knees when his hands catch your shoulders and pull you back up to your feet.
“You ain’t gotta do that,” he whispers, tucking a loose lock of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t owe me anythin’ back, alright?”
“I know I don’t, but I want to,” you insist, batting your eyelashes. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you give him an innocent face that almost makes him come on on the spot. “I really, really want to.”
Joel takes your hands in his. “I believe you, peach. I do. But tonight, all I wanted—all I needed was to take care of you. Make you feel good. That’s it. We can worry ‘bout me another night.”
Another night. It takes you a minute to realize what he means. 
He wants to keep seeing you. Like this.
In secret. In the dead of night, when nobody else is around.
You glance up at him, lips parted slightly in surprise. Then, your eyes flicker down to your hands, still in his, your stomach sinking when your wedding band gleams in the moonlight, garnering your attention. It’s not because you feel guilty, but rather, it’s only a frustrating reminder that you belong to Luke. He would never set you free, not in this lifetime. He’d rather see you six feet under the ground than allow you to end your marriage.
Stolen moments and clandestine meetings in the middle of the night were all you could ever have with Joel Miller.
The man you’re falling for too hard, too fast.
Joel’s thinking the same. He’s not an idiot. He knows that you’re not happy in your marriage, but even so, there’s not a chance in hell Luke’s going to be willing to let you go—much less to be with another man. He remembers the night at the party, the way Luke held you possessively, marked his territory and made it known you’re his. Not his wife, but his property.
He hooks an index finger underneath your chin, bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “Need to ask you somethin’ and I’m gonna need you to be real honest with me, darlin’. Alright?”
Nervously, you nod. “Okay,” you reply, tentatively. “What is it?”
“He ever hurt you, sweet girl?”
A chill runs down the length of your spine. In the steadiest voice you can muster, you ask, “What are you talking about, Joel?”
He clocks the way you stiffen, feels your discomfort. “Luke. He ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”
Your throat goes dry like sandpaper.
Does he know something? 
No, that’s impossible. 
He’d only ever seen you with Luke once.
“No, of course not,” you lie to him, furiously shaking your head. “We do fight a lot, but he’s never gotten physical with me.”
Suspicious, Joel peers at you. “You tellin’ me the truth, peach?”
No, I’m not! I’m trapped in a fucking nightmare of a marriage and I can’t do anything about it.
You want to take him by his shirt, curl it in your fists and shout it in his face. There isn’t a single part of you that doesn’t want to confess everything to him, tell him about the hell Luke’s been putting you through since your father passed away. But you know better than that. You know that if Joel ever finds out, he’ll go straight to Tommy and Maria
Or worse.
He’ll go straight to Luke himself.
After everything Ellie had told you about him from their journey across the country, you now have a clear idea of just what Joel Miller is capable of, the lengths he would go to just to protect the people he cares about.
“I am,” you finally answer, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m telling the truth. I swear.”
You can see it. Feel it. 
Joel doesn’t believe you.
Without an admission, though, he doesn’t have much choice but to nod his head, accepting the lie. “Alright.”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” you mumble, taking your hands out of his. You place them on his chest and look up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes. “We might not always get a lot of alone time together, Joel. So what little time we do get together, I don’t want to waste a single second of it by talking about him. Okay?”
Joel wraps his arms around your waist. “Okay,” he agrees with another nod. 
Something tells him that you’re protecting Luke and he doesn’t know why. 
But there is one thing that he does know. 
If he ever catches wind of what Luke is doing to you behind closed door, Joel’s going to fucking kill him. 
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the20thangel · 6 months ago
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The Dragon and The Raven Chapter 9 (Seasmoke)
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Chapter Summary: Aemma discovers her mother is letting Dragonseeds start claiming dragons. She and Benjicot fly to Dragonstone. If someone is going to claim her father's dragon, she should try to see the person she thinks is worthy of Seasmoke. As they go to witness the people, Seasmoke decides to surprise them all.
Taglist: @callsignwidow @whimsicalmystic02 @mercedesdecorazon @rhaenyrathecruelwithteats
Tags: NSFW words, mentions of potential miscarriage.
Keep track of the story: masterlist
Aemma and Benji’s relationship slowly started to heal after their fight. Aemma always took the time to assure her husband of how attractive and loving he was towards her. Of course, Benjicot also took the initiative to reciprocate those actions. He missed her so much from their time separate. Every day, he would wake her with a kiss on her brow before getting ready for the day. Per the healer's orders, he would allow the princess to sleep in to ensure the princess would get enough rest to help their babe. 
Aemma was finally introduced to Kermit and Oscar Tully. The Tully brothers were awed by meeting the princess; words that described her beauty were unmatched by the real picture. As they expressed loyalty to her mother, Aemma noticed how the two young men tried but kept failing to ogle her. Benji also saw this, sending a glare to his friends, causing the boys to flush, stammer, apologize, and quickly leave. No one wanted to be the cause of Benjicot’s ire. 
“They are your friends, Ben,” whispered Aemma as she tried to console her husband. 
“Which is worse because they know I do not like it,” stated Benjicot, growing to hate how easily it was for him to get jealous. He knew his wife was gorgeous, and men would always stare, but that never meant he had to like it. 
Aemma sighed, knowing his feelings were valid, “Yes, in your defense, they probably should know better, but in their defense, they have no chance. Why would I want the attention of some other man when I have yours? Why should I care for another person’s attention when you provide all the attention I want? I carry your babe, not theirs, and you are the only one who makes my body and soul burn for you.” 
Feeling devious, she walked closer to her husband, pressing her body to him and whispering to his ear, “You are the only man who can make my thighs ache and wet for your cock. You are the only man who can satisfy a dragon, making her scream and shout your name. This whole camp knows my body belongs to you. Even now, my body wishes you would take me..” 
Aemma gasped as Benji's hungry kiss cut her off. As he raised her in his arms, he walked back into their tent, wishing to show the princess how much her pretty words had affected him. Aemma giggled and sighed, feeling his kisses on her neck; oh, how much she missed this. 
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As Benjicot left a satisfied princess sleeping, he walked towards the training ground, where he found Cregan Stark and his Aunt dueling. Benjicot could not help but notice how much time the two were spending together, wondering if he soon would have to speak with Lord Stark about doweries, knowing that he was technically in charge of any potential marriage regarding his aunt. As the pair noticed the young lord, they stopped and walked towards him. Aly asked for Aemma, to which Benjicot said the princess was sleeping. Aly nodded, stating that she would bathe before checking on her. Aly became very overprotective of the princess since their fight. 
As both men watched Aly Blackwood leave, Cregan glanced at Benjicot. 
“How is Aemma truly?” pondered Cregan as he began to polish his sword, not once removing his eyes from Benjicot. 
“She is getting better; her illness is finally relieved from her. Thank the gods,” stated Benji, feeling slightly nervous after seeing the piercing gaze the Wolf Lord gave to the lord of Raventree Hall.
Cregan nodded, “That’s good; she was looking a little frail, which worried me…” Cregan notices the slight frown on Benjicot’s face. 
He sighed. Hearing from Aly that Benjicot tended to be easily jealous, he needed to clarify before the lad thought anything. 
“I love Aemma as a sister. Jace and she endeared themselves to me when they went to the north, and they often reminded me of my own siblings. Seeing someone so fierce and happy as Aemma to be knocked down over a sudden illness just worried me. She barely had enough time to mourn Prince Lucerys, who I know was close to Aemma; I felt everything was going too fast. Nevertheless, I vouched for you when Jace was adamant not to accept you, so I was worried the “illness” was just an excuse and you two were having troubles.” explained Cregan Stark, trying to see any cracks in Benjicot’s face, but the young lord had a good poker face. 
In reality, on the inside, Benji wanted to scream, his guilt returning to him with the troubles he and Aemma were going through.  Benjicot pondered if he should tell Stark what happened or not. After a while, he decided to give some information, knowing the Stark lord would appreciate it. 
“In truth, we just found out that Aemma is expecting, but many of the foods have so far not sat well with her, so she was feeling frail, which caused more worry once the healer stated that Aemma was at risk of losing the babe. She felt she was failing at her duty, which I had to assure her she was not. Another babe can come if the gods wish to bless us, but the gods can’t give us another Aemma Velayron.” explained Benjioct, staring up at the sky and seeing two dragons dancing in the air, Caraxes and Sliverwing. 
Cregan exhaled as he stood clasping Benji’s arms and clapping him on the back, “Congratulations, but truly, are she and the babe doing better?” 
Benjicot slightly smiled, “Yes, with each day, both are getting stronger, but the healer has asked us not to share anything until her fourth moon, just to be sure. So Please, only you and my aunt know outside of Aemma and me; please don’t share the news until we feel ready.” asked Benjicot, feeling more at ease. 
Cregan nodded, overjoyed that this surrogate sister was having a baby. After dealing with their house losses, Houses Targaryen and Blackwood were receiving a new life. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Aly reached the tent, she was met by a few handmaidens running through it, preparing the princess for the rest of the day. Noticing one holding a letter, Aly went to her, asking if she wanted to give it to the princess, as the maiden nodded and left. Aemma saw Aly and grinned at her, finding how much they enjoyed each other’s company. 
“May I ask the princess what tired her out in the middle of the day to warrant a nap? Hmm?” teased Alysanne, grinning more as she saw Aemma blush and turned away. 
“All I will say is your nephew, and that should be enough,” Aemma said as her handmaiden giggled, finishing putting the princess together. 
Alyssane rolled her eyes but was secretly glad to hear that Ben and Aemma were coming back together like before the whole Aegon debacle. 
While waiting for the last Handmaiden to leave, Aly went to Aemma, looking at the girl leave and placing a hand on the princess’s ever-growing stomach. “How are you both dwelling today?” she whispered. 
Aemma smiled, placing her hand on Aly, “We are doing well. I don’t get as sick anymore, but I crave lemon cakes. But I don’t want to make it too obvious by asking for them. Those were the tall-tale signs in my mother’s pregnancies.” stated Aemma, flushing in embarrassment as Alyssane laughed. 
“Just let me know; Ben and I will sneak all the lemon cakes our princess commands us to take.” 
Aemma laughed, hitting Aly on her shoulder playfully. She was glad to make a friend. Moving to Raventree Hall after the war would be easier. 
Before Aly forgot, she handed Aemma the letter she held in her other hand. Aemma opened the letter, reading that her father wished for her and Benji to speak with him. Frowning, she asked Aly if she could do the favor and asked Benji to meet her at the hall in Harrenhal. Aly worried and asked if everything was fine, but Aemma shrugged, not knowing what her father wanted. 
As Aemma and Benjicot entered, they saw her father sitting at the table, drinking wine and looking at papers before him. Looking up, he saw his daughter and good-son walking hand in hand, better than a few weeks ago when they would barely touch each other. 
“Good afternoon, Kepa . Has something happened? Is mother well?” Aemma questioned her father. 
“Good afternoon, My Sea Dragon, has your ailment finally felt you …hmm?” raised a brow the Rouge Prince, seeing both freeze for a second before relaxing. 
“Yes, it was just the food that wasn’t sitting with me quite right, and with the worries of grandmother, I fear it was all too much too quickly,” smoothly lied Aemma. Her father had no right to judge the events that transpired in her marriage, not when he had his own problems with her mother. 
“You did not answer my second question. Is everything alright in Dragonstone?” pondered Aemma. 
“I received two letters from Dragonstone. Your mother has found a few Dragonseeds willing to claim any unmounted dragons on Dragomount… She only wanted to notify us to keep it looped, but… Your brother Jacaerys sent one as well. He is urging you to come to Dragonstone.” Explained Daemon, seeing Aemma’s face scrunched with confusion. 
“Why does Jace want me back home… I’m sure he could handle the situation regarding the dragon seeds. What could worry him about them and the drag-” Then Aemma paled as she quietly gasped. 
Hearing his wife, Benji quickly turned and steadied her, growing worried, looking back at Daemon. 
Daemon turned to Benji and nodded at the boy, a silent thank you for being there for her. 
“That is why I am asking about your ailment… do you think you are strong enough to ride with your husband to Dragonstone? Jace is asking for you to come, per the chance one of them tries to claim Seasmoke, Leanor’s dragon, that you be there…” explained Daemon, seeing tears pool into Aemma’s eyes. Leanor's disappearance left a hole in Aemma, and knowing someone might take her father’s mount made it seem fair for Aemma to say goodbye to the dragon should it happen. 
Aemma nodded as she left to prepare Sliverwing for the journey. As Benjicot was following when Daemon called out to him. 
“You are going to see another side to my daughter in Dragonstone; Aemma was always known as the kind princess like her grandmother, Queen Aemma, but as I said, dragons are overprotective of things they love. She will be very hostile to any of the people who will try to claim Seasmoke… try to stop her from setting one of them on fire,” stated Daemon as he quietly laughed at his joke. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Aemma and Benjicot arrived, Rhaenyra was shocked to see her daughter’s new appearance. She looked drastically different from when she last saw her; she was practically glowing. She narrowed her eyes… could she… turning to Rhaenys, who glanced and nodded. 
“My pearl, seeing you and your husband away from Harrenhal is a surprise. Is there anything I need to know?” asked Rhaenyra, smiling at her daughter but then frowning at her daughter's hardened look. 
“If you are going to give out dragons so easily, then I think your second eldest should be here to see what kind of people are willing to risk themselves getting killed for a dragon,” stated Aemma as she stared down the people near her mother, all who quickly turned away from the princess’s gaze. 
Aemma's eyes narrowed, and she saw two young men with dark skin, white hair, and brown eyes. She then turned to her grandparents, who would not see her eyes. Benjicot looked at his wife with a smile; Daemon’s statement seemed correct. Rhaenyra sighed as she quickly glared at Jacaerys, looking too smug to see his sister here. Of course, her two eldest children would always team up against their parents when they didn’t get their way. 
“Aemma, my sweet, we need allies, and we have many dragons who are unclaimed; you did not need to come all the way here-” 
“I do when you are planning to give away my father’s dragon! ” quickly replied Aemma, her eyes ignited with fury. Bennji tried to calm her, pressing her back to him and whispering sweet words. Aemma closed her eyes and sighed, letting her husband comfort her. Rhaenyra sent a grateful smile to her good-son, relieved to see them so close again. 
“ I think that Jace and I deserve to see who might claim him… please Mother, grant me this..” pleaded Aemma. 
Rhaenyra nodded, “Alright, we were planning to go in an hour, but if you feel tired..” 
“No, just let my husband and I place our things in my room, and we will meet you in Dragonmount. Jace, help me,” commanded Aemma as she left the room, Benjicot and Jace following her. 
As everyone watched the dragon princess leave, they stared in awe; there they saw was the actual presence of a dragon. 
As the large party arrived in Dragonmount, many dragons seemed to know what would transpire, each leaving their caves, flying in the air, and landing. Almost like they were exhibiting their finest qualities, waiting for someone to try and claim them. A few tried and were chased away, or some tragically passed to claim a dragon. As everything was happening, Aemma stared at Seasmoke, her father’s dragon, who was restless and crying. Aemma’s heart ached. She, too, missed Leanor as much as Seasmoke did, wishing there was a world where Aemma could have had both Leanor and Daemon co-existing and being her fathers. She was selfish, yes, she knew, but she was only human. Benjicot turned his gaze to where his wife was staring, taking a break from the intense setting of people dying and getting maimed in trying to claim a dragon. He was not afraid or disgusted but instead getting bored. 
“Was that your father’s dragon?” asked Benji, noting his wife nodding. 
“Yes, He and I would take Seasmoke and Sliverwing out together. People called us the fog of Dragonstone because of how much we flew together,” explained Aemma as she reminisced about her father. 
Aemma smiled, seeing Seasmoke land nearby, chirping and recognizing the princess. Her excellent mood, although quickly soured when she saw Addam of Hull come… she could care less if he was her grandsire’s bastard; she only cared that he seemed to think of himself worthy of her father’s dragon. Turning sharply at her grandmother, Rhaenys only grimaced and nodded to Aemma, letting her know she was allowing it to happen, making Aemma's nose flared in anger. Benji noticed and pressed her tighter body to him. 
“Calm, sweet girl, don’t stress yourself; it's not good for you and the babe,” whispered Benji as he stared at Addam, trying to pet Seasmoke. 
Seasmoke stared at the young lad, sniffing his scent before the dragon roared angrily, nearly biting the man’s hand off. Addam fell to the ground as everyone gasped in shock. Seasmoke became angrier with the presence near him. Aemma, gasping, not thinking clearly, ran off, trying to calm the dragon. She knew running to a dragon that was not hers was foolish. Rhaenyra gasped, shouting for Aemma to step back. Hearing the shouts from the queen, Benji ran to his wife, capturing her arm as he roughly pulled her back to him; he was not risking losing her. Seasmoke ran towards them and screamed at their faces, causing the two to flinch and close their eyes. Sliverwing, hearing the commotion, landed behind her rider, screeching back at the younger dragon to back off. Everyone was tense, not wanting for the two dragons to fight. They became more nervous when they heard Vermithor growling, not liking his mate so near a male dragon. After a long beat, Seasmoke lowered his head in submission, recognizing Sliverwing and her rider before gazing at Aemma. Aemma stares back at him before shakily raising her hand to him. 
“ Lyikri , Seasmoke, do you remember me?” whispered Aemma as she soothed the male dragon. 
Seasmoke moved his head to the side, staring at the princess, almost looking like he did remember her. Moving slowly closer, he began to sniff her, and then Benjicot, a scent near them, was calling to him. Then he moved lower towards her stomach; he sniffed her stomach. This made Aemma gasp as she and Benji touched her stomach.  Seasmoke then started chirping, nuzzling her stomach, laying in front of her, and continuing to chirp and nuzzle. Everyone who was not Aemma looked at the grey dragon in confusion before Rhaenyra and Rhaenys gasped, both remembering how Syrax and Meleys reacted to their own pregnancies in the past. Rhaenys allowed her tears to flow; it seemed Leanor wanted his future grandchild to have his dragon. 
Rhaenyra smiled, turning to the confused audience, “Seasmoke is no longer available to be claimed.” 
Alynn, confused, turned to the dragon queen and asked, “But I thought one rider was not allowed to have more than one dragon?” 
Addam nodded in agreement, feeling that he was being robbed of a chance to prove himself to Colrys Velayron. 
Rhaenyra smiled, “That’s true. Never has a rider claimed two dragons from what we know, and Aemma is not different, for it wasn’t Princess Aemma who claimed Seassmoke… but the babe in her stomach.’ she explained, tears falling as she stared at her daughter. 
Everyone turned to the princess and her lord husband, trying to see a bump. Corlys could see a slight bump as he grew overjoyed; he was to be a great-grandsire! 
Aemma and Benjicot froze; they weren’t planning on telling anyone yet… but it seemed the gods were not letting them have control over that. Seasmoke was letting them know he had claimed their child. Benji stared at the dragon and then caressed his wife’s slight swelling. His child seemed to be a future dragon rider, a first for House Blackwood.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago
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Pairing : idol!Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : suggestive ; mentions of previous miscarriage ; slightly suggestive ; pregnancy ; childbirth ; angsty ; but with a happy ending ; Word Count : 4.8k Request : please could u do a part 2. to the miscarriage fic with felix ? it would be so cute to see them trying again when felix has a short break between tours - and them being successful and he tells STAY about his new son/daughter A/N :YES I CAN!! I LOVE WRITING PART TWO HAPPY ENDINGS! AND FELIX DESERVES HIS HAPPY ENDING!!
It was hard, and while no one had ever said that it would be easy, he never thought that it would be this hard. Some nights you’d still wake up crying and he’d always be there to hold you, to comfort you and tell you that it would be okay. Usually your tears would lead to his own beginning to fall, and his hands would instinctively wrap around your stomach that he knew was empty, but he couldn’t seem to let it go, as if rubbing it enough would somehow magically bring back what the both of you had lost. 
The door to the room that was intended to be the nursery was indefinitely locked, the sight of the ultrasound photos that had been framed and hung up on the wall after every doctor's appointment only served as another painstaking memory of what he hadn’t been there for, what he had left you alone to handle. The guilt was something that weighed heavily on him, and no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault, no amount of time would lift that weight off of him. 
Time surely doesn’t heal all wounds, but it does at some point make it easier… Easier to go about the day without breaking down in tears, easier to go back to work without becoming overwhelmed by the sense of loss that at first seemed to hit at the strangest times. Time made it easier to move on, although neither of you would never forget, and the memory of your little nugget would always stay with the both of you. 
“Angel baby!” Felix shouted as he ran through the front door, breathless, although there was a wide smile on his face and his eyes were sparkling brighter than all of the stars in the sky right now. He was on a promotional tour around the country, doing fansigns and all of the things that management said he and the guys had to do. It’s not like he was going far, but your house was far from everything that they did, so he’d usually stay in the dorms during promotions. He wasn’t due back for another two weeks, so you couldn’t contain your excitement at the sight of him. 
“Lixie!” You screamed, dropping what you were doing and running to the door to wrap your arms around him, his lips immediately crashing against your lips, his hands moving to your hips as he used one of his feet to kick the door shut, and then he was leading you, blindly, towards the bedroom. “What are you doing? Aren’t you hungry? Did you eat already?” You asked once you pulled back, extremely flustered by the suddenness, although you didn’t exactly mind it either. 
“We’ll eat later… I got a whole week off from promotions to be here…” He said as he gently laid you down on the bed, and your eyebrows lowered questioningly as you looked at him. It wasn’t an anniversary, it wasn’t a holiday, it was neither of your birthdays coming up. He sheepishly bit his lip as he looked around the room, as if the answer was somewhere in there, and then his eyes landed on you again, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Well I’ve been… tracking and… It says that you’re… ovulating…” 
Your hands that had been holding onto his biceps quickly fell and landed against your face, shielding you from his gaze and hiding your look of embarrassment in your palms. “Felix…” You whispered, your voice coming out as a squeak. Of course, it wasn’t just that you were embarrassed, there was a certain fear that ate away at you at the mention, the mere thought of trying again. 
“I know… I know you’re scared…” He murmured, gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face before lacing his fingers between your own. “I’m scared too… But it’s been months… And I think we should try again…” His lips were light as a feather as he dragged them along your jaw, creating a trail of hot breath along your chin and up your cheek until he reached the corner of your lips. “Things will be okay…” 
The entire week that he took off from promotions was spent trying, and trying, and trying again. He was so soft, so sweet, so delicate with you, murmurs of how he couldn’t wait to have a baby with you whispered in your ear when he was on top of you. You didn’t know how he had so much energy, he was going nonstop, and you swore that by the end of the week you wouldn’t even be able to stand. 
A month later when your period was late and you took a test, you weren’t shocked to find that you were pregnant, but you were terrified, unable to even allow yourself to become excited as you stared at the two dark lines on the stick. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to go through that kind of loss again, especially since the first loss still heavily affected you. 
When it came time to tell Felix, you could barely get the words out of your mouth, so you opted for just showing him the stick as tears slowly trickled down your cheeks. He fell to his knees on the floor, choked out sobs of happiness filling the otherwise silent room as his arms wrapped around your waist and his forehead rested against your stomach. 
It took the two of you a bit to calm down, he just held you on the couch, his sobs slowly dying down into quiet sniffles as he hid his face in your hair. Soft vows to never leave you this time around, to be there for every single doctor's appointment, to take care of you, to just be with you through the whole pregnancy were made as he pulled you against his chest, laying back on the couch with you on top of him. Now that he knew you were pregnant he didn’t want to let you go. 
He was quick to tell management what was going on, and they congratulated the two of you, letting you both know that if there was anything that you might need, they’d be there to help. Felix didn’t hesitate, letting them know that from now on, he wouldn’t be doing any overseas tours, not until his child was born. He refused to leave you for longer than 12 hours a day, and he let it be known that his phone would always be on so that if you needed anything, he’d be able to get to you as soon as possible. 
Felix wasn’t taking any chances, and the guilt that had been plaguing him growing almost tenfold now, a constant reminder than while it hadn’t been his fault exactly… He wasn’t there when you needed him… He’d do better this time, not just for you, but for his baby too. 
He also knew that with the constant breaks from his usual schedule, even with an announcement from the agency, the fans would come looking for answers, at least the crazy ones. You needed to be protected always, even when he wasn’t there, he made sure that security was always located at the front of the house and in the back. He wasn’t taking any chances, there was too much at stake, and he knew that once everything was okay he’d be able to tell STAY, but for now, you and the baby were his top priority, his number one concern. 
The months seemed to pass a lot slower now, every night allowed hi to let out a sigh of relief that nothing had gone wrong, but every morning when he’d wake up he’d inwardly panic, wondering whether this would be the day that everything went bad, the day where you both would be made to suffer once more. 
Month 3 was the biggest hurdle, looming in the distance, and when that month finally came and passed without any problems, it felt like you both could finally just breathe. The rest of the guys knew how scared Felix had been, they could see it in the way he was, his mind preoccupied during practice, even when they were just talking, he always seemed so distant. They knew what it was about, and they could also see that he had visibly relaxed once he felt like the two of you were in the clear. 
You had said that he could tell STAY during the 5th month, and although you still were telling him that by then it should be safe to do so, he didn’t feel like any month was safe. Until his baby was out of your stomach and in the world, he wasn’t telling anyone anything. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. Plus, you hadn’t even reached the 5th month, you were still in month 4 and although he could breathe easier, he wasn’t far enough away from that third month to fully be at ease. 
“Practice time?” You asked from the couch, the remote resting against the little bump that was beginning to form. God, he had been so happy to see it when he first noticed, his hands immediately drawn to your protruding stomach as the brightest smile spread across his face. Since then, he couldn’t seem to stop touching it, rubbing your stomach as his tears seemed to habitually form now. 
“Mmm… Only for a couple hours, I won’t be gone for more than five hours though, I won’t allow it.” He said, pausing at the back of the couch and leaning over it to kiss your cheek and then straining to press his lips to your stomach. “What are you gonna do while I’m gone?” 
It was a common question that he asked before he ever went anywhere without you. He felt like he needed to know, just to make sure that you were okay, even though the security that was placed around the house were given keys just in case they heard something or if you called for help, he felt better if he knew exactly what you were planning on doing when he wasn’t around. 
“I’ll probably still be sitting here when you get back. The only reason I ever get up is to use the bathroom or get a snack, and I don’t think you can bring the bathroom close to me like you can with the chips.” You joked, pausing your show to get up off the couch. “Don’t overwork yourself today, okay? We have the appointment tomorrow to find out what little bean is.” 
He knew, he knew very well what tomorrow was. It was the most important day ever, more important than any award show, more important than any tour date. He’d finally get to find out what his baby is, he’d finally get to know whether he’d have a little boy that he’d be able to teach how to surf and dance just like him and his uncles. Or maybe he’d have a daughter that, once old enough, would love to work on his and Hyunjins hair, putting little clips in it. His imagination and his daydreams were endless, but he knew that no matter what, he’d just be happy that they were here, that they were healthy. 
“I can’t wait, baby.” His hands once again found their way to your stomach as he kissed you, keeping you close to the couch even though he knew that you had gotten up to walk him to the door. He didn’t want you on your feet longer than you had to be though. “Watch your show… If you need me, just call me, even if it’s because you can’t reach something in the top cabinet. Okay? Just call me, text me, anything.” You had giggled lightly at the words, but you knew he was serious, he literally wanted you to call him for anything. He cared about you way too much, you were the mother of his child, you were carrying his child, he’d be damned if anything happened to you that he could have possibly kept from happening. 
He stood in the middle of the practice room, him and the rest of the guys drenched with sweat as they all tried to catch their breaths. They were getting ready for their comeback which had been planned around all the doctor’s appointments that you had. Management had been so understanding, having been there throughout the first pregnancy and the sudden loss of it, they were doing everything they could to make sure Felix could both be there for you and the baby, and be there with the group as well. 
“Soooo~~ Are you excited? Hmm?” Changbin asked, playfully nudging Felix with his shoulder. Everyone knew what tomorrow was, Felix hadn’t been quiet about it since he found out at the last appointment that the coming one would be the big reveal. His head nodded quickly as his smile grew wide. “I bet it’s gonna be a boy. I’m gonna teach him how to lift. We’ll start with rattles, and then word our way up to stuffed animals and- What?!” Felixs eyes narrowed although his body shook with his silent laughter. “Don’t be mad, I’m gonna be the coolest gym uncle ever.” 
“Nah! Y/N is gonna have a girl, Felix gives off girl dad energy.” Jisung stated, and Felixs head tilted to the side with confusion. “You know, heart cookies with pink and sparkly sprinkles. She can even come in and paint mine and Chans nails.” Jisung said excitedly, and while Felix had known that his members would be there for him, he never expected them to be just as excited as he was. 
“Maybe the baby can go to the gym! Put them in the stroller and run with them on the treadmill!” Jeongin said, his eyes almost disappearing with his wide smile, but all Felix could do was blink for a second, then two seconds, and then his head shook quickly. 
“Don’t try to do that. Don’t ever try to do that. Y/N will be furious, and I’ll kick your asses.” Felix said, partially joking about the ass kicking, but he knew you’d be pissed, and he knew… well, hopefully knew that the guys wouldn’t do something that crazy… Although Seungmin and Jeongin looked a little disappointed that they couldn’t do it. 
His phone started going off, the ringtone that was specifically yours sounding off had him pulling out his phone quickly to check the text. “Felix… can you come home?” The message had his breath hitching in his throat as his legs seemed to lose all feeling. His heart sank into his stomach and his hands shook as he held the phone tightly in his hands. This couldn’t be happening again… could it? No… But the way the text came in, it felt like being on tour all over again and getting the news. 
“Not again…” Felix said, almost chanting the words as he stared wide eyed at the screen, not even blinking. It was the worst feeling in the world, to think that something was wrong, to think that he was losing his little bean too. All the guys quickly quieted down, waiting for Felix to do or say anything, but he continued to stare at his phone, his tears already brimming in his eyes. 
Chan ran over, his arm draped over Felixs shoulder as he walked him out of the practice room. “Go ahead… If you need us, we’ll be right here. Okay?” It was one thing that Chan never wanted to see Felix go through ever again though, he didn’t want to see any of the guys go through that kind of pain. 
He could remember Felixs excitement as he ran through the doors to the practice room when you had told him that you were pregnant once again. The emotion radiated off of him in waves, it was contagious, he didn’t want that feeling to go away. He didn’t want Felix to be sad again… 
Now, Felix hadn’t been gone long, he couldn’t have been practicing for more than 3 hours, but when he walked through the door you were already dressed, your purse sitting by the front door and your shoes set out as if you had already left the house. Your head was bowed, your face buried in your phone, he couldn’t even see you. Were you crying again? Were you trying to hide it from him? 
“Baby…” He whispered, his voice shaking with his worry as he walked over to you. “What’s wrong… Wh-What happened?” Would he even want to hear the answer to his own question? He was so scared, and a preemptive sadness washed over him, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him as he got closer to the couch. 
“Lixie, you’re-“ You cut yourself off when you saw the expression on his face, your eyes widening as you got up off the couch and hurried over to him. “What’s wrong?” You rushed out the two words as you cupped his face. “Did something happen to one of the guys? Are you okay?” 
Your questions confused him, not only because they weren’t about you or the baby, but because before you had started asking them, you sounded so happy. “I thought… because the text… And… The last time you sent a text like that… I just thought…” The tears had already begun to stream down his face, and your hands moved to cup his cheeks, your thumbs gently brushing them away as you gave him an apologetic smile. 
“Baby no…” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips to try to calm his shaky breaths. “Everything is perfect… The doctor called, she said she wouldn’t be in tomorrow for our appointment, but she has a bit of freetime today and she could squeeze me in. I just thought you’d want to be there with me…” Relieved wasn’t the right word to explain how he felt right now, his hands immediately held onto your stomach and he swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I should have explained in the text… I just got a little excited and I wrote it while I was getting dressed…” 
“It’s alright angel… As long as you and little bean are okay…” His chuckle came out as a short breathy sound, his head falling forward until his forehead was against yours. “Let’s go, hopefully my heart will calm down by the time we get there.” 
The next 4 months seemed to blow by, and before he knew it, you were laying in the hospital bed, your face covered in sweat as you held his hand in a death grip. His baby was finally going to be here, and the tears that fell down his cheeks were from his excitement. 
Your head fell back against the bed with one final push, and then he was handed a pair of scissors, the doctors showing him exactly where to cut the cord. His breath was held until his baby’s cries filled the room, and he couldn’t help but cry as well. His vision blurred as he looked at you, brushing back the strands of hair that clung to your face as he choked out soft praises. 
“You did so good, baby… I’m so proud of you…” He said between soft kisses that were placed all over your face. “You look so beautiful… God, I’m so lucky…” He continued, glancing up every couple seconds to watch as the doctors cleaned and swaddled the baby in a blanket before coming back over and laying the little bundle against your chest. 
Felix pulled out his phone, snapping a quick photo of the moment, one that he’d never want to forget. “We did good…” You murmured, your fingers lightly brushing against the soft skin of your baby’s face before brushing your hand over the full head of hair. “So perfect…” 
2 weeks later, Felix stood in the practice room that had been turned into a makeshift party room, tables lined the walls and on those tables were so many plates of food and so many perfectly wrapped presents, he felt like it would take forever to get through it all. 
“I thought baby showers were supposed to be done before the baby is born.” Felix commented as he watched Hyunjin and Jeongin work to put up the streamers and bows and other little decorations that were hanging from the ceiling. “We have everything we need now.” 
Bangchan shook his head as he motioned towards the presents that somehow seemed to grow higher and higher every time someone new walked in. “Yeah but, we wanted to make sure she has everything she needs. Our niece will never go without anything. Plus, it’s good to know what size clothes she wears so you don’t have to go through the hassle of returning things.” 
It made sense, but Felix felt like maybe everyone was splurging a little too much, although it felt nice to know that his daughter was already loved so dearly by the rest of the guys and management and staff. “You all must’ve spent a lot of money… You really didn’t have to do all this though.” He looked around once more, noticing the larger box that stood next to the table, and he wondered what it was, how much it cost, who got it… His eyes began to water again. 
“Yes we did. You’re our family, Felix, and Y/N is our family, and your daughter is our family too.” Bangchan said, patting the younger man's back as he followed Felixs eyes around the room. “Did you tell Y/N that you wanted her to bring in the baby… That we all wanted to see her?” It had been the plan, and that’s why Changbin was currently on his way to your house, which Felix had informed you of as well. You had no idea what was going on, and before Felix had gone into the office today, he hadn’t had an inkling of an idea that this was going to happen either. 
“Yeah, I let her know… thank you guys… really… for all of this. It’s amazing… Y/N is going to love it.” Felix murmured, pursing his lips to try to stifle his sniffling. “I should get down to the front lobby to meet her and help her carry in the baby… I’ll be right back.” 
And love it you did, you had let out a little gasp when you walked in the room when you saw everyone there and all the decorations that lined the walls. You choked out the quietest thank you as you quickly covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed with so many emotions you couldn’t really say anything else, opting to just hug everyone that was there. 
“She’s like a little celebrity, isn’t she…” You joked, watching everyone crowd around Minho as he held your daughter, the others complaining that he had been holding her for too long and that it was their turn now. “I don’t think they’re going to put her down for the rest of the day… She’ll be spoiled…” You commented as Minho reluctantly handed your daughter off to Hyunjin who wore a victorious smile from being chosen next. 
“Maybe just a little bit spoiled… They love her though… They’ve been texting me nonstop about when they get to meet her. I think that’s why Chan and them planned the baby shower for after she was born.” He said, his eyes glued to Hyunjin who was walking around the room with the baby, and while Felix trusted the guys, his heart was still racing, worried when she was in anyone else’s arms that weren’t yours or his. 
“I’m gonna be the favorite uncle!” Became the sudden topic for bickering, Hyunjins voice soft yet still heard by the rest of the guys as he cradled your daughter against his chest, sticking his tongue out at the rest of the guys. “Nuh uh! I’m gonna be the favorite! I’m gonna buy her a bunch of toys and stuffed animals! Now let me hold her! It’s my turn!” Jisung whined, holding out his arms and making grabby hands at Hyunjin. 
“Actually, I’ll be the favorite uncle. When Y/N, the baby, Felix and I go back to Australia, I’ll take them all to see Berry. Everyone loves Berry, I’ll automatically become the favorite.” Bangchan said, satisfied enough with his own answer that he didn’t mind the fact that he still hadn’t held the baby. “Well what if she’s not a dog person, hmm? I’ve got Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Everyone loves cats, and everyone loves my cats.” Minho said, smirking at Bangchan who simply rolled his eyes before they both looked back at Hyunjin who was doing his best to keep Jisung from grabbing the baby. 
“Yah! No fair! You can’t use pets to try to one up everyone! I’ll just… I’ll give piggy-back rides! You can’t beat that! Kids love piggy-back rides!” Changbin argued, standing on his toes behind Hyunjin to look over his shoulder, his hand gently brushing over your baby’s head. “You all are trying so hard, and I’m still going to be her favorite uncle.” Jeongin said, a little bit too cocky as he sat in the chair beside Felix. “I got this all terrain stroller, and I’m pretty sure it’ll work on treadmills too.” 
Both yours and Felixs eyebrows shot up as you turned to look at Jeongin. “Dude… I told you that you can’t do that.” Felix whispered, his eyes darting over to you every couple of seconds. “Just take her on a normal walk, man… I’m sure she’d have just as much fun.” 
Jeongin pouted at you and you gave him a stern look, shaking your head already in response to the question that he hadn’t had the chance to ask. “I just want to be the fun uncle. You both are party poopers.” He huffed, turning to look back at the neatly wrapped box that was far bigger than all the others. “Can’t believe I spent all that money on a stroller and you won’t even let me use it on the treadmill… It’s the only reason I got that one.” 
The only one who hadn’t actively bombarded your daughter with attention was Seungmin, he stayed in the back, although he did smile whenever she let out a little burp, and he’d chuckle softly whenever the guys would pass her back to your or Felix when her diaper would be filled. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if Seungmin was her favorite uncle?” You joked to Felix who had finally gotten his daughter back into the safety of his arms, holding her close to him as he cooed softly to her, his smile brighter than the sun, the moon and all the stars as he looked at her. 
“I will be.” Seungmin said, having been eavesdropping on you and Felix and dropping down in the chair that Jeongin had been sitting in previously. “Mainly because I’m not annoying. And I’m not taking part in the hot potato game with your daughter. I don’t think she enjoyed that very much.” Felix snorted quietly, his head lifting slightly to look at Seungmin who was smiling at the two of you. “I’m happy for you both… You deserve this…” His words were genuine, and Felix felt himself getting choked up at the sincere sentiment. These guys truly were his family, and he knew without a doubt that no matter what happened, they’d always be there for you and for his daughter. She had 7 amazing uncles, and even though they were all fighting to be the favorite, Felix knew that they’d all hold a special place in her heart, just like they did in his. 
“She’s all tired out from being passed around all day…” You whispered, laying your daughter in the bassinet that was set up next to your bed. “I’m tired too. Gotta make sure to thank all the guys and the staff and everyone tomorrow morning, I don’t think I got the chance to tell everyone before I left.” You turned on the baby monitor before walking out of the bedroom with Felix right behind you, heading straight to the bathroom to wash up. “It was so nice though… I can’t believe they did all that.” 
Felix watched you through the mirror as you started brushing your teeth, his chin resting on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Baby…” He murmured, and your eyes focused on his reflection as you hummed questioningly in response. “Thank you… For being so amazing… For giving me the most precious gift. I’m so lucky to have you… And she’s so lucky to have you as her mother. You’ve given me everything that I’ve ever wanted, and I just love you so much…” He kissed your cheek softly before holding your hair back so you could spit in the sink. “I can’t wait to spend every single day of the rest of my life with you… Making memories with you and our baby… I’m the happiest man in the entire universe… Thank you…” 
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iheartcoffeecakesm · 1 month ago
Text
"Anything" 💙 Curly x Anya
warnings: angst, topic of miscarriage
Chapter 2
Curly was slowly beginning to heal. He was home. He was safe. That’s what he had to remind himself of. Curly sat on a chair on his outside porch with the fall breeze blowing against his face, causing his hair to rustle from the breeze. He was relaxed. He felt at peace. As peaceful as he can be anyway. A vibrating sound came from his phone. It was a text message from Anya. His eyes widened as they flicked over the words. "Would you like to meet up soon? Let's fix things. Let’s fix our friendship." He read the text slowly. Curly thought to himself: “Wow that was mature of her. I should have been the one to reach out since I screwed up so badly.... But I didn't want to bother her”. He responded with, "Yeah. I would love that."
Anya had been crying in her room for a few hours. She had felt so lost. And she felt that reconnecting with Curly felt like the next step. They had been friends.. and despite the trauma she had faced, she wanted to heal.
Curly went shopping that day, hoping to find something Anya might like. He wanted to get her something. Something meaningful. Something that showed he cared… even if just a bit. As he browsed, his eyes were immediately drawn to a blue necklace in the shape of a moon.
The next day, Curly sat at the cafe waiting for Anya to arrive. He had picked a booth by the window and tapped his foot a bit as he waited anxiously. Curly looked up upon hearing the bell ding and saw Anya enter and approach him. "Hi Captain- I mean.. Curly." She stood there awkwardly. Curly laughed, "That's gonna take a while to not say!" Curly stood and chuckled, and gently hugged Anya in greeting. As they sat down in the booth across from one another, Curly noticed her light blue eyeshadow. It complimented her just right. There was a silence for a moment, and then Anya’s eyes lit up. "Oh Curly, I wanted to tell you! I'm trying to get into medical school! Well, again.." She said while looking down at her feet. Curly smiled brightly. "That's awesome! I hope everything works out!" She smiled back and nodded.
He felt confused a few minutes later, and conflicted. Why was she so happy? Especially with the person who hurt her badly. Curly debated with himself then finally spoke, "Hey. Are you doing okay?" He asked genuinely. Anya looked up at him, she frowned. "Not really.. I'm trying to stay positive. After going through the most traumatizing experience ever, what else can you do?" She paused for a moment. "It's not like I wanted the baby but wow.. I didn't know how terrible it would be to lose one. No wonder why women talk about how terrible it is. I'm feeling it. I'm always gonna have this part of myself that's missing." Anya looked down, almost solemnly. After a moment, Curly reached across the table and gently took Anya's hand in his. Curly’s hand was strong and calloused, and Anya’s hand was smaller and trembling. He spoke gently after a moment. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how you feel. I will do anything to help you out. To be there for you. I promise" Anya slowly smiled faintly with tears in her eyes. "My first therapy session is next week. I think it will really help me. I feel you should do the same..It might help you too" He looked at her with caring eyes, still holding her hand. Curly gave her a thoughtful nod. The blue moon necklace stayed in his pocket… it hadn’t seemed like the time to give it to her.
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