#lamaze breathing on the bench

[jonasiegenthaler]

njd@nyi | 09.11.24

[pathologicalreid]

what to expect | s.r.

in which you find yourself frustrated at the end of your pregnancy, and spencer talks you off a ledge

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort) content warnings: pregnancy, lamaze classes, self-consciousness, boy dad spencer, spencer is perfect, birth talks, breastmilk mentioned, crying word count: 1.68k a/n: i'm writing all of these a/n's at the same time and i'm running out of interesting things to say to you. this was a request! i hope you enjoy!

“Now,” the instructor continued her presentation, “Our recommendation is the five-five-five rule.” The yardstick that she was using to emphasize the slides smacked against the projector screen, “That’s five days in bed, five days on the bed, and five days near the bed.”

Leaning back, you rested your back on Spencer’s chest and whispered, “If you try to keep me in bed for five days, we’ll have to start marriage counseling.”

Your husband hummed in response, “Why don’t we just see how you’re feeling after he’s here?”

Holding back a groan at his diplomatic answer, you turned your head back to the screen, anxiety already at an all-time high after watching video footage of a live birth. At a friend’s recommendation, you had signed yourself and Spencer up for Lamaze lessons, but you hadn’t anticipated how in-depth they would go.

It didn’t help that Spencer had been on a case when you were supposed to start, pushing back your start time. Now you were finishing your last lesson on the same day your OB had given you the ‘any day now’ speech. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, noticing the way you didn’t respond to his suggestion.

Your head bobbed in confirmation, “Yeah, just tired.” The lights were dimmed in the classroom, between that and the warmth of Spencer behind you, you were ready to fall asleep.

Your sweet husband was beginning to toe the line of being overbearing, “Do you want me to take the rest of the day off?”

“No,” you answered. He had taken an extended lunch to be able to go to this lesson with you, there was only a week until his paternity leave officially started, and it wasn’t necessary for him to stay with you for the rest of the day.

Besides, having him around all day was only going to make your prenatal anxiety worse.

He was already the perfect father, his eidetic memory contributing to all of the facts that he listed about newborns and birth. He knew more about the changes happening to your body, and the worst part was that everyone knew it.

Cringing as the lights went up, you leaned back on your hands as Spencer stood up, packing up your bag before crouching down to help you up. Looking around the room, you watched all of the other couples in your class smiling and laughing with each other, the moms moving around the room with an ease that you no longer possessed.

You took a deep breath, placing one hand on your side in an attempt to brace yourself, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Spencer asked again, watching you zone out in the middle of the Lamaze studio.

“Mhmm,” you reassured him, “Braxton Hicks,” you added, trying to wave off some of his concern.

Nodding in understanding, Spencer gently placed a hand on the small of your back before the two of you started to make your way out of the room, stopping to grab the gift bag your instructor had put together for you. His hand dropped to hold yours before walking down the steps, leaving the two of you at the entrance to the parking garage, “Hey,” he nudged, trying to lift your spirits, “No more classes.”

Admittedly, the Lamaze lessons weren’t your favorite couple activity, and Spencer knew that the only reason you kept going was that they were non-refundable. “Right,” you agreed, knowing that now you’d have to face the next hurdle—actually giving birth.

“Okay,” Spencer said, gently herding you over to a park bench. He set the bags down on the seat before you sat down, leaving him squatting in front of you. “What’s wrong, honey? I know something’s wrong,” he insisted, knowing you well enough to be able to tell when you were burying your feelings.

You leaned back onto the bench, “I’m pregnant,” you shrugged as if that was answer enough.

Spencer frowned up at you, “Yes, this much I am aware of,” he confirmed, eyes flickering down to your bump before going back to your face.

“I just…” you struggled to find the right words, “I’m pregnant, and you’re doing all of this research into pregnancy and labor and birth, and I’ve done none of it. None of the research or the work and I’m— I feel useless!”

His expression softened at the sight of tears welling in your eyes, “You’re not useless. You’re so far from useless that it’s not even on the list of adjectives I would consider while describing you.” He rested his hands on you, one on top of your knee to maintain his balance and another on the side of the bump, skimming his thumb over the cotton of your t-shirt. “You’ve been growing our baby, and he’s beautiful and healthy and he’s going to love you regardless of how much research you’ve done about him.”

Huffing, you wipe at your teary eyes, “It’s so embarrassing though! Going to the BAU today and hearing everyone talk about how prepared you are, the stacks of books on your desk and on your nightstand and on the coffee table.” You paused to take a deep breath, “In those stupid classes where you knew so many of the answers that the instructor stopped calling on you to give everyone else a chance.”

“Sweetheart,” Spencer murmured, “I like being prepared. Especially for big changes like this.”

You nodded, resting your hand on top of his, “And I love that about you, but I have never felt so unprepared for anything in my life,” you confessed, struggling to catch your breath.

It wasn’t like Spencer didn’t understand your frustrations, he just wished you had voiced some of these concerns sooner, “You don’t need to prepare like I do, though. Your maternal instinct? It’s inherent. It’ll immutably move you to sense and take care of the baby, okay? With dads it’s different. I don’t have any sort of physical connection with him like you do, I won’t develop a similar instinct until I actually spend time with him. So, technically, you’re ahead of me,” he explained, using all of his research to soothe you out of your panic.

“I just want him to love me as I love him,” you pouted, looking down at the bump, “but I ache all over, Spence. My boobs hurt. They’re not even tender anymore, they just hurt,” you complained.

Spencer chuckled lightly at your breast comment, “He will love you as you love him; I guarantee it. Your boobs hurt because they’re producing colostrum, and we can call your doctor later to see if it’s alright to pump. That’ll help relieve the pressure.”

Some of the tension in your body released, and you sniffled timidly, “I think those classes are designed to freak people out of ever having another baby. Oh my god,” your eyes go wide as you recall the live birth video, “You can’t watch.”

“Watch what, honey?” Spencer asked.

You looked at him with abject horror in your eyes, “The baby. You can’t watch me give birth. Is that why the dads always used to wait in another room? Should I be having you wait in another room while I’m in labor?”

He shook his head, “I’d like to be in the room with you, but if you’d be more comfortable having me somewhere else, then we can figure that out. However, we just went through twelve hours of birthing classes together, so if you’d rather I just refrain from actually watching you push the baby out, then I will promise to abide by your rules.”

Horror stories that you had heard from other moms about how their husbands wouldn’t touch them after birth filled your mind, and that type of rejection horrified you. With wide eyes, you looked at your husband and whispered, “I can’t do this.”

Spencer watched helplessly as tears filled your eyes once again, “Can’t do what?”

“Have a baby,” you answered, your voice tight with emotion, “What was I thinking? I never should’ve done this, oh no.” You continued muttering to yourself, sending your head into a tailspin as Spencer desperately tried to get you to come back down to earth.

“Hey,” Spencer crooned, “Y/N, hey,” he tried to get you to snap out of it. “Hey, we made this decision together, remember? Why didn’t you tell me you hated being pregnant?”

Your eyes snapped to his, “I don’t hate being pregnant. I’m just over it!”

Pushing your bags off to the side, Spencer sat down next to you on the bench, “You want him here, huh?”

Nodding melodramatically, you cover your eyes with your hands, “I just wish he could be in my arms instead of in my belly, and now that I’ve been told he could come any day it’s so much worse.”

“Thirty-seven weeks is any day now territory,” Spencer acknowledged, “but not today, I’m afraid.”

Dragging your hands down your face as you met his eyes, knowing that today was, in fact, not the day. “I miss hugs,” you told him mournfully, wiping at the fresh tears in your eyes.

Spencer casually put his arm around your shoulders, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your temple, “I hug you all the time,” he reminded you.

“It’s not the same with the bump,” you admitted, there was always an awkward lean involved, and you could never get close enough to him.

He raised his eyebrows at you curiously, “So, if I promise to give you a hug after the baby’s born, will you stop crying?”

Leaning your head back and using his arm as a headrest, your head bobbed slightly, “Yeah, I think that could fix me.”

“Honey,” he started, “I promise to give you the coziest, most rejuvenating hug of your entire life after the baby comes. I will hug you like you’ve never been hugged before.”

Turning to face him, a timid smile grew on your face, “Well, now you’re kind of laying it on thick, don’t you think?”

He sighed desperately, “I just really want you to stop crying.”

[dccomicsimagines]

Teen Pregnancy - Wally West x Reader - Part Two

Part One

Warning - Childbirth

Requested by Anon -  I need another "Teen pregnancy", please~ Or at least, part 2, please~ Pretty please with 🍒 on top~ Pleeeeeese ~

Requested by Several Anons

***

“Breathe in and out,” the instructor said as she walked around the room. You took slow deep breaths, following her instructions. The room was quiet except for the sound of everyone breathing. 

“Do I breathe too or do I just keep supporting you?” Wally asked. You rolled your eyes, leaning back into his chest as he sat behind you. 

“Yes, you breathe too.” You closed your eyes. Your breaths slow and deep. “I imagine it’s harder to do this when you’re in pain.” 

Wally snickered. “I’ll be there to help you.” He started taking deep breaths with you. You did your best not to laugh. It was at that moment that the baby kicked you. You kept breathing, but grabbed Wally’s hand to let him feel the kick. “Our little kangaroo.” 

“Please don’t call our kid a kangaroo,” you whispered as the instructor passed by. 

“Focus please,” the instructor warned. You gave her a sheepish smile, going back to breathing. Wally just hid his face in your shoulder.

You took a lick of your ice cream cone, leaning back on the park bench with a frown. It was tradition for Wally and you to get ice cream after Lamaze class. Wally sat down beside you with his jumbo sized milkshake. He took a sip and studied you.

“I think she doesn’t approve of us,” Wally mumbled into your shoulder. You hummed in agreement as you focused on your breathing. 

***

“Something bothering you?” Wally asked nervously. “Is it the baby?” Wally’s voice cracked.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not the baby, you dope.” Laying a hand on your bump, you gently rubbed it. A older couple walked by with a disapproving look on their face. You swallowed hard. 

“Come on, tell me.” Wally wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He took a sip of his milkshake before offering you a sip.

A tiny smile broke onto your lips as you took the sip. The milkshake was good, but it didn’t make your thoughts go away. “I just hate the looks I get,” you admitted. You offered Wally a lick of your cone. “It’s like everyone is judging me.” 

Wally took a lick. “No one is looking at us now.” He glanced around to make sure.

“Yeah, but that old couple gave us a look.” You frowned before taking a reluctant lick of your ice cream. Your appetite was gone. “Is it going to be like this my whole life?” 

Wally pursed his lips, debating what he should say. “It’s not going to be like this forever, besides I’m here with you. When you’re being judged, I’m being judged right beside you.” He grinned and wrapping his free arm around you. 

You sighed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

Wally grinned. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before glowing a raspberry into it. You shrieked in surprise. Your arm jerked up and your ice cream smashed into Wally’s face. 

“Oh,” you gasped, barely containing your laughter while Wally froze to comprehend how ice cream was suddenly on his face. You pulled away the cone only for Wally to suddenly kiss you on the lips. The cold ice cream got on your face and you could taste it on his lips.

“You are so mean to me. What will our baby say?” Wally licked his lips. You handed him a napkin to clean off his face. Your phone beeped with a text from Dinah, telling you to meet her for a ride home. 

“I got to go,” you said, forcing yourself to your feet. Your feet ached already even though you haven’t walked at all. You laughed when Wally licked at the ice cream in the napkin. “I love you.”

Wally pouted. “I love you too.” He hopped up to kiss your cheek. “I’ll walk you.” He offered you his arm, tossing the napkin away in favor of sipping his milkshake. “Are you coming to the cave tomorrow? M’gann said she was making your favorite cookies.” 

You smiled, slipping your arm through his. “Yeah as long as Dinah says it’s okay. She’s becoming more nervous as my due date comes closer.” You sighed, taking a lick of what was left of your ice cream. “If I’m being honest, it’s freaking me out too. It’s going to hurt, and I keep thinking that something might go wrong.” 

“Take it easy today, (Y/N). Come home the moment you feel weird,” Dinah ordered when you sat down for breakfast. She poured you a glass of milk. You grabbed a muffin from the box on the table. 

“Nothing’s going to go wrong, (Y/N). Your doctor says you’re good, we have plan A, plan B, and even a plan C for the delivery. It’s going to be fine,” Wally reassured you with confidence. He stared straight ahead, not looking when you eyed him. You wondered if he would be so confident if it was him giving birth instead of you.

***

“Yeah, don’t spar with anyone,” Oliver said from behind his newspaper. He peeked out at you to see you smile. 

“Like they could beat me anyway,” you laughed, taking a bite of the muffin. Dinah tried to hide a smile, but failed. She turned to put the milk away.

When she turned back, her smile was replaced by a worried frown. “Maybe you shouldn’t go today. You’re so close to your due date.” 

“Dinah, I want to see the rest of the team. M’gann is even making me cookies.” You pouted. The muffin no longer seemed as appetizing in your hand.

Oliver folded the newspaper. “Come on, Dinah. (Y/N) will be okay. Besides, Batman will be there. I’m sure he can handle it if anything happens.” He grinned. “I’m making my special chili for dinner.”

“No, it gave me bad heartburn last time,” you protested.

“Oliver, don’t you dare make that again,” Dinah added at the same time. You both shared a look while Oliver frowned. Dinah sighed. “Okay, (Y/N). You can go to the cave today, but I want you back early.” 

You went back to your muffin now that you knew your plans for the day were set. “Thanks, Dinah.”

You pursed your lips as you looked at your nails. Artemis and Zatanna whispered to each other across from you. The three of you were waiting in the living room for the boys to get out of their rooms. M’gann and Conner had left to get supplies. 

“Why does no one like my chili?” Oliver asked. Both you and Dinah hid smiles, refusing to meet his eye. 

***

Your back ached a little from the couch. You tried to get up, but couldn’t with your belly. 

“Here, I’ll help you,” Zatanna offered, coming over to take your hand and help you up. 

“Thanks.” You gave her a tight smile. Zatanna smiled back at you.

“Hey, Z. Let’s go check out the hanger bay,” Artemis said coldly. She got up and left the room without a glance at you. Your heart dropped a little. 

“You can come with us, (Y/N),” Zatanna said, sensing you were hurt. Pursing your lips to hold back a frown, you shook your head. Zatanna followed Artemis out. You wrung your hands nervously before heading into the kitchen for a drink of water. 

Your hands shook as you filled your glass. The water threatened to splash out when you brought it to your lips. “She’s just jealous,” a voice suddenly said from behind you. You jumped, dropping the glass into the sink. It shattered.

“Oh, hi Dick,” you said quickly. Your cheeks burned as you moved to clean the shattered glass out of the sink. 

Dick chuckled, coming to help you. “Is your jumpiness a sign that you’re going into labor?” You gave him a glare that could kill. Dick just laughed a little harder. “Okay, sorry. I have a bet with Kaldur that you will have the baby this week.” 

“I’m glad you’re profiting from my misery,” you growled, tears stinging your eyes. You turned away to throw the glass pieces in the trash. “Is Artemis in on this bet?” 

“No.” Dick came up behind you to dump the rest of the glass. “I told you. She’s jealous of you.” 

A humorless laugh escaped you. “Really? She wants to be a teen parent, huge, and have her mentor pretend she doesn’t exist...” A sob slipped past your lips as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Oh, and she wants to cry at a drop of a hat. Does she want that?! She can have that! I’ll happily hand it over to her!” You turned to face Dick only to find him staring back at you in surprise. Much to your embarrassment, you started full out bawling. 

Dick reached out to hug you, but you flinched away from him. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Dick bit his lip, not knowing what else to say. “Please try to stay whelmed. I was just saying she’s jealous because you live with Dinah and Ollie. I mean they talk about you all the time.” You sniffled. Dick handed you a paper towel and you tried to mop up your face. 

“What the hell has been happening in here?” Wally asked, appearing in the doorway. You didn’t look at him, trying to hide your embarrassment. Dick looked at Wally with his mouth open to speak. Wally cut him off before he could. “Did you make (Y/N) cry? Why did you make (Y/N) cry?” 

“I didn’t mean to make them cry,” Dick protested. Wally came over to pull you into his chest. 

You let him, leaning into him with a sigh. “He didn’t mean to make me cry. It’s just the crazy emotions,” you said, hiding your face into his shoulder when you saw Kaldur coming around the corner. 

Wally rocked you back and forth as you composed yourself. Kaldur cleared his throat. “M’gann and Conner are on their way back. We should meet them in the hanger bay.” 

Dick quickly left with Kaldur following behind. “Kaldur to the rescue,” you whispered, knowing Dick had gladly taken the excuse to leave. 

“So what happened? You don’t cry like that even with the crazy emotions.” Wally pulled back to look at you.

“It was nothing. Just stupid stuff.” You turned away to blow your nose. Wally didn’t need to know why you cried. He would just blow up at Artemis and you didn’t want to make a bigger mess out of it than it already was.

Wally raised an eyebrow. You threw the paper towel away before washing your hands. “Come on, tell me.” He came up behind you and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. You sighed, leaning back into him. 

“Dick is betting with Kaldur on when I’m going to have the baby,” you said. A half-truth if anything. “It just made me feel like an animal or something.” 

“I should see if I can get in on that action. I mean you have a feeling on when the baby’s going to come, right? We’ll be rich,” Wally teased, spinning you around to face him.

“You mean the adults are gone everywhere?” you exclaimed as Dick turned on the tv to reveal the empty news anchor's chair. “So this wasn’t just an attack against the league?”

You laughed. “Quiet, lover boy.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen to join the others. “Besides if I knew when, I would have placed a bet already.” Wally chuckled, following you happily.

***

“No, it doesn’t look like it,” Dick said worriedly. Wally wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He kissed your cheek, hiding his fear and worry. 

“I’m calling my mom,” Artemis said, leaving the room with her phone. Zatanna sank down in a chair limply. 

Kaldur held up his hand to get everyone’s attention. “Let us keep calm. If the adults have truly disappeared, then there are children in need of help.” 

M’gann stepped beside Kaldur. “Kaldur is right. We should go out and try to help people while we can.” The others began to discuss what to do. You tried to listen, but you were focusing on Zatanna. She was pale and staring blankly at the wall. 

You pulled away from Wally, who was discussing with the others. Sitting on the armrest of her chair, you laid a hand on Zatanna’s shoulder. “He’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out,” you soothed.

Zatanna looked at you with tears in her eyes. She gave you a half smile. Artemis came back into the room, glaring at her phone. “I couldn’t reach my mom,” she said, hiding her worry behind frustration. 

Kaldur took charge. “Robin, Zatanna, and (Y/N) will remain here to find answers. Meanwhile the rest of us must go help the children.” The rest of the team nodded.

“Hold on a minute,” you snapped, pushing yourself to your feet. You almost fell with the weight of your belly. “I can help you guys. Robin and Zatanna don’t need me here.” 

Kaldur opened his mouth to reply, but Wally beat him to the punch. “No, not in your condition.” Wally glared at you for even suggesting the idea.

“I’m pregnant, Walls. Not injured.” You silenced him with a look. “You need all the help you can get, and I won’t be much help here.” 

Kaldur shared a look with Wally. “Let them come,” Artemis said. You gave her a surprised look. She refused to look at you as she continued. “We do need all the help we can get. There will be a lot of kids who need help.” 

“Fine, (Y/N) will join us,” Kaldur said, leading the rest of you out of the room. Wally glared at you before turning to march off ahead of you. You knew you would have to deal with him later.

You walked beside Artemis. “Thanks,” you whispered to her. She eyed you and you caught a hint of guilt in her eyes.

Hours later, you and the team met up in the cave to discuss what to do to solve this problem. Wally was still not speaking to you, pouting at the fact you had been allowed to help. You hung back behind everyone, gently rubbing your lower back. When you were out helping kids, you felt something pull in your lower back. You thought you pulled a muscle or something.

“You’re welcome,” she said sharply. Shortly after, you were on your way to help the abandoned children.

***

“Woah, it worked,” a young boy said behind you. You turned with the rest of the team to find a kid randomly standing in the middle of the cave. The others rushed over to him with Kaldur demanding how the kid got here. You were about to follow them when a sharp pain rocked through your abdomen. 

Pressing your hand over your mouth to suppress a gasp, you touched your belly to feel the baby kicking wildly. You remembered the signs of labor as you felt your water break. “Not now, not now,” you panted. The others hadn’t noticed you. You slowly moved out of the room, heading to your old room.

Once inside, you knelt down beside your bed. You took deep breaths. “Why now? This is literally the worst time.” Your heart threatened to pound out of your chest, but you kept breathing just like you did in Lamaze class. You didn’t have any pain yet except for the initial one. It was only a matter of time.

Some time passed until you felt another pain. You muffled your gasp into the bedspread, rocking gently on your knees. 

“(Y/N), where are you? We found a way to contact the adults. It turns out Captain Marvel is actually a kid,” Wally said, just outside your door. You heard the door open, but you kept your face pressed into the bedspread as the pain subsided. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Wally zoomed to your side. His hand rubbed your back. “You pushed yourself too hard, didn’t you? You shouldn’t have gone out with us, babe.” 

There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice. You suppressed a smile at the fact you were going to burst his bubble. “Walls, the baby is coming.” A deep sigh escaped your lips. The pain was gone for now. You turned to look at Wally only to find his face pale white.

“Now?” he squeaked. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Yeah, now.” You reached back to grab his hand in yours. The smile slipped from your face. “I know this is the worst time ever.” 

Wally struggled to compose himself. “What are we going to do? I don’t know how to help you have a baby. I doubt anyone in the world right now knows what to do.” He ran his free hand through his hair. 

A tear slipped down your cheek. Any joy you had gotten from ruining Wally’s sense of superiority was gone. “Please don’t leave me.” 

He squeezed your hand. “I’m not leaving.” He let go of your hand. “I got to talk to the others, but I’ll be right back.” He zoomed off. A wave of despair came over you. You started to sob.  It was funny, but the only person you really wanted right now was Captain Atom aka your ex-mentor. You hadn’t seen him since the news of your pregnancy broke.

Wally skidded into Conner as he started to panic. He could keep himself calm when he had to reassure you, but now that you were nowhere in sight, he was freaking out. “What’s wrong with you?” Conner said, glaring at him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You buried your face back into the bedspread.

***

“(Y/N)...baby...now.” Wally was speaking so fast it was gibberish. The rest of the team shared looks.

“(Y/N) is having her baby?” M’gann asked, gently reading Wally’s mind to catch up. Wally swallowed hard before nodding. “And you left her alone?!” M’gann quickly flew down the hall to join you.

“Woah, (Y/N)’s going to have her baby now. I hope it’s a boy,” Billy said excitedly while the rest of the team shared looks of horror. 

Kaldur cleared his throat. “Billy, go tell Batman (Y/N) is in labor,” he ordered. Wally was shaking so badly, he was a blur. Billy shouted Shazam and disappeared in a flash.

“Do you think we’ll be able to bring the worlds together and get the adults back before she has the baby?” Dick said with a frown.

“We can’t leave (Y/N) alone,” Wally exclaimed, panting heavily. He got a crazed look in his eye. 

“We won’t leave (Y/N) alone,” Kaldur said sternly. He blushed. “Does anyone know anything about childbirth?” 

Conner, Dick, and Kaldur looked to Zatanna and Artemis as if they should be experts. Wally collapsed on the floor to try to calm down. 

“Hey, just because we’re women doesn’t mean we know about childbirth,” Artemis retorted. 

“You should be ashamed of yourselves for assuming that,” Zatanna added with a glare. Dick swallowed hard while Kaldur simply looked away. Conner just blinked.

Wally jumped to his feet, panic overtaking his sense of reason. “What are we going to do?!” 

Artemis stepped up and slapped Wally across the face. “Man up.” She stared him straight in the eye. Wally went still, stunned. “This isn’t about you. Stop making it about you. This is about (Y/N) and their baby and you’re just making this harder.” 

A moment of silence passed between the teens. Dick cleared his throat, opening his wrist computer. “Stay whelmed. I’ll see what I can look up online, but someone is going to have to be the one to actually deliver the baby.” Another long silence passed with the team simply eyeing one another. 

“Why don’t we let (Y/N) decide who they want to help?” Conner suggested. Everyone sighed in relief except for Wally who was still frozen from Artemis’ slap. 

Another lightning bolt struck as Billy returned. Billy looked a little green. “Batman gave me instructions,” he whispered. 

About three hours later, you were lying in the medical bay. The machines beeped around you, keeping track of your heartbeat and the baby’s. M’gann was sponging your forehead with a wet cloth. Wally was holding your hand as he helped you breathe through another labor pain. 

“Good.” Kaldur took charge. “Then we better get to work.” 

***

The pain passed. Wally pulled his hand out of yours to shake it. “I think you broke my hand,” he whined. You glared at him.

“You aren’t the one in labor, Wally. A broken hand is nothing compared to this,” M’gann said, giving Wally a glare of her own. Wally swallowed hard. 

“I’m going to see how far along you are, (Y/N),” Artemis said, slipping on a rubber glove while she read the instruction Dick had printed. You chose Artemis to be the one to help you deliver, because you felt she was able to keep calm. Ideally, you would pick Wally. However, Wally wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Wally jumped a little when she snapped the glove. “You know what you’re doing, right?” he asked worriedly. Artemis glared at him.

“Do you want to do this? If not, shut up.” Artemis moved between your legs. You grabbed Wally’s hand again when you felt her hand somewhere you really wished it never had to be. “Sorry,” she said, smiling sheepishly at you. “But you’re seven centimeters, so not long now.” 

“I feel bad,” you moaned as another pain came. Artemis took off the glove and went back to reading the instructions. “You guys should be going on the mission, not here with me.” 

“Don’t worry about that, babe,” Wally soothed, grunting when you squeezed his hand to death again. “We’ll go on the mission once you’re okay.” 

“It’s killing me just to be sitting here,” Dick exclaimed from his seat at the kitchen table. “I wish we could just head to Roanoke Island now.” 

M’gann placed the wet cloth on your forehead. “Breathe, (Y/N). Let’s just focus on this.” She breathed with you. Wally joined you. You smiled before focusing on part of the wall you were using as your focal point.

***

“Batman said we have to wait. We’ll need everyone,” Kaldur said, taking a sip from his glass. 

Conner winced. “The baby should be here soon.” The others looked at him in surprise. “I can hear them.” He blushed, wincing again. “(Y/N) is screaming a lot.”

Dick and Kaldur blushed too. Zatanna just stared down at her drink, lost in her own thoughts. “Why would (Y/N) be screaming?” Billy asked with his mouth full. He had made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Billy had been ordered to stay in the kid world in case something happened with the birth. M’gann was ready to send him a message through the mind link at a moment’s notice.

“Because it hurts like a motherfucker,” Conner replied stoically. Billy’s jaw dropped at the swear word.

“Conner, do not use such words in front of...” Kaldur nodded over at Billy. 

“I heard (Y/N) say it when Wally asked how much it hurts.” Conner blinked. 

Billy laughed a little. “Superboy swore.” He smiled in satisfaction before taking another bite of his sandwich. Kaldur sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Dick had to hold back a laugh. He glanced over at Zatanna to see if she was listening only to see she was still staring off into space. “Hey, you okay?” 

Zatanna looked up, eyes wide. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She glanced over at Kaldur who was attempting to explain why Billy shouldn’t say motherfucker. Dick laid a hand on her arm. She looked back at him. “I’m just worried about my dad. What will happen if we don’t bring the adults back?”

“Hey, stay whelmed. We’ll bring the adults back as soon as (Y/N) is in the clear,” Dick said, rubbing her arm. He smirked at her. “So if it’s a girl, I’m going to win the bet. Maybe I can take you out for a movie with the winnings once everything back to normal?” 

A tiny smile came to Zatanna’s lips. “I think I’d like that.” 

“I hear crying,” Conner said suddenly. 

You gazed down at your daughter as she slept in your arms. “So perfect,” you whispered to her. “My beautiful angel.” 

“Hey everyone, it’s a girl,” M’gann said over the mindlink. Smiles broke out on everyone’s lips. Dick winked at Zatanna knowingly.  Zatanna giggled at the sight.

***

“(Y/N),” Wally said from the doorway. He was in his Kid Flash suit, ready to go save the world. You gave him a bright smile. “We’re going to leave now.” He came to sit down on the edge of the bed. You handed him his daughter when he held out his arms. “I don’t want to leave.” 

“I don’t want you to leave either, but you have to.” You sighed, smiling as Wally gently rocked your daughter. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, she is. Gets that from you.” Wally looked at you. The love in his eyes made your skin tingle with delight. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Actually, Dinah and Ollie will probably beat us here.” 

You laughed. “I’m sure they will.” You took your baby back when Dick, dressed as Robin, appeared in the doorway.

“Walls, we got to go,” Dick said before coming in to take a quick look at the baby. “Is there anything else you need, (Y/N)? Artemis said you should eat.” 

You eyed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Billy had made for you. “I will.” You glanced back down at your daughter. “Now go save the world.”

Dick laughed, leaving the room. Wally leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, looking into your eyes. 

“We’ll be waiting.” You pressed another kiss to his lips before pushing him away. “Go.” 

Wally hesitated. “I love you.” He zoomed off like he knew if he stayed much longer he wouldn’t be able to leave at all.

Wally was first off the bioship, heading straight to the medical bay. “(Y/N), are you okay?” he said, skidding to halt when Dinah suddenly appeared in the doorway just when he was about to enter. 

“I love you too,” you whispered to the air. You looked back down at your little baby. “And I love you.” Your daughter opened her eyes and you were filled with a sense of peace.

***

“Hush, Wally. (Y/N) and the baby are sleeping,” she said sternly before letting him in. Wally tiptoed inside. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you fast asleep. Oliver was holding the baby while sitting in the chair next to you. 

“They’re okay?” Wally whispered to Dinah. Dinah smiled, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.

“Yes, they’re both good. They just need to rest.” Dinah led him over to you. “You did a good job, Wally.” 

Wally blushed. “I didn’t do much. It’s was all (Y/N) and Artemis with some help from M’gann. I just gave (Y/N) my hand.” Oliver perked up.

“Artemis was the one to deliver the baby?” he said in surprise. Dinah looked surprised as well, but Wally just nodded and moved to lay down beside you. 

“Walls, I hope that’s you,” you mumbled before slowly opening your eyes. 

“No, it’s Dick.” Wally grinned. “Can’t you tell by my dark hair and annoying personality?” 

You barely held back laughter. “You saved the world.” 

“Of course, how else would Ollie and Dinah be here?” Wally pressed a quick kiss to your lips. The two of you whispered to each other, sharing kisses.

“Love birds,” Dinah said, coming over to peer down at the baby from over Oliver’s shoulder. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Oliver hummed in agreement.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. All four of you looked to the door to see Captain Atom standing there with a bouquet of flowers. He looked uncomfortable, not saying anything. 

A slow smile pulled at your lips when you saw him. With Wally’s help, you got up and hugged him tightly. You started to cry, babbling how happy you were to see him. He hugged you back, apologizing over and over again.

“Did you know he was coming?” Oliver whispered to Dinah. Dinah shook her head, but smiled.

“I knew he’d come around,” she said before taking the baby from Oliver to bring her over to you and Captain Atom. Wally came up to wrap his arm around your waist as Captain Atom held your little daughter. With a deep sigh, you knew it was finally going to be okay.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 51

Nothing will ever prepare you for the birth of your first child. Nothing. Trust me on this. Go ahead and do your research, attend Lamaze classes, dot the i’s and cross the t’s of the fifty line-items that make up what you believe to be a thoroughly comprehensive birth plan…you’ll be informed, and aware. But on that day, when you’re in the midst of it, and immediately after…that is some seriously next-level shit. It’s an other-worldly, out-of-body experience, one in which you’ll feel like you’ve gone straight to the ninth circle of hell and then, with nothing more than the sound of a gasp and a cry, achieved the penultimate goal of spirituality…nirvana.

 We’d chosen the Portland Hospital mainly because Dr. Phillips practiced there as a consultant, but also due to the fact that it was a private establishment with state-of-the art technology and a neonatal intensive care unit on-site. Having a midwife was an option, but since I was an ‘older mom’ it felt best to err on the side of caution and deliver with a caregiver in the room who could authorize and perform medical procedures immediately. During our initial tour the guide had mentioned that the likes of Victoria Beckham and the Duchess of York had chosen to give birth in the VIP Deluxe Suites, along with a host of other rich and famous folks. The cost? Approximately $2700 per night, not including medical fees. The perks? A private entrance and exit, catered meals, an extra bed for partners wishing to remain overnight, a lounge area and an en-suite bathroom in addition to the delivery area, which provided for all possible birthing options, including a tub for those who desired an aquatic scenario. With typical medical costs added in we’d be looking at around $30,000, double if I wound up needing a C-section. I balked until we actually saw the VIP rooms…there was no disguising that this was, indeed, a hospital, but the space was bright and airy with light wood floors and furniture, all hints of color varying shades of grey and purple. The lounge was decorated similarly, and the couch and set of chairs would comfortably seat at least six. The bathroom was large, with a purple and white diamond-tiled floor, light-wood cabinets, white marble countertops, a white marble a walk-in shower with a bench, a soaking tub, a higher-than-normal toilet, and a bidet. I’d never seen anything like this associated with a hospital setting, and had been expecting something utilitarian and claustrophobic. This just felt…peaceful, and very much like home. It made me momentarily forget that hey-o, a watermelon sized human will be coming out of your vagina in this very place before you know it, and that’s what sold me on the place, in the end. The tour guide asked us if we’d like the suite redecorated to our tastes, which would add another $40,000 or more to our total, dependent upon said tastes. I said no thank you as politely as possible, deciding right then and there to make a matching donation for whatever our bill total was to a local maternity support organization.

 I was wheeled into our suite at 10:32 PM, contractions timing at eight minutes apart. Despite my desire to wait to change into the purple and green tie-dyed delivery gown I’d found online and carefully packed in the go-bag, I was cajoled into donning the Portland’s version so Dr. Phillips could examine me immediately and determine what stage of labor I’d reached. It was cream-colored and patterned with tiny red rosebuds, which did not please me in any way, shape or form. I’d begun to express my displeasure, but as I placed my feet into the bed’s stirrups another contraction began, the pressure starting at my lower back and working its way around to my stomach, fading after forty-five seconds or so. After he’d completed poking and prodding my internal nether region the verdict was rendered – my cervix was approximately fifty percent effaced, dilation at six centimeters. All my vitals were as they should be, so Tom and I were left to our own devices, instructed to let the nurse stationed at the door of our suite know when the strength and duration of my contractions intensified significantly and/or began occurring less than five minutes apart.

 At 11:18 PM the nurse, a lovely dark-haired young woman with sky blue eyes named Bridget, knocked twice and entered, our go-bag in hand. As she placed it on the chair nearest the door I noticed that her hair, styled in two long braids, was decorated with both a bright pink and an electric blue bow tied at the bottom of each one…which was, in all honesty, adorable. I sensed that my resistance to the rosebud monstrosity that had been thrust upon me might have given her the impression that I was going to be one of ‘those’ patients, so I quickly dug around in the duffel for my trusty bag of truffles and told her to help herself after saying thank you. She grinned from ear to ear, stating that Lindor truffles were her very favorite. I said me too, showed her my sterile-wrapped gown, and our encounter ended with a gentle high-five. The healing power of chocolate…so grossly underrated.

 As soon as the room door closed behind her I untied Rosebud, wriggled out of it, then walked into the bathroom to deposit it in the laundry bin. Tom followed me, still-wrapped tie-dye gown in hand. When I turned around to face him, he gasped, and I paused, head tilted to the right in confusion.

 “What? Is there something hanging out of me? I’d like to think I’d feel it if that was the case, and I sure as shit can’t see…”

 He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s just…you’re so…so…”

 “Enormous?���

 “You are not enormous. Do you remember New York? The night we went to DANIEL? You in that red dress, so beautiful, the embodiment of Aphrodite, and I said…”

 I nodded, my voice hushed as I recalled his words. “You said the only way you could imagine that I’d ever be more beautiful than I was in that moment is if I was heavily pregnant with our child.”

 He smiled softly, expression quickly turning to one of reverent contemplation. “And there you are, standing before me, naked as the day you yourself were born, about to bring our son into this world and I…I…Maude, the love I have for you…my heart is so full I fear it may burst, and my soul, it’s…it’s…free. Soaring. Light surrounds you…it always does…but right now, it’s so radiant, so luminous…it’s almost too intense to gaze upon, but I find myself unable to look away.”

 I took a single step toward him, and as I lifted my right foot to take a second my uterus decided it was once again contraction time, but my discomfort level jumped up two notches on Allie Brosh’s Better Pain Scale from the last one, which had been a four, ‘My pain is not fucking around.’ This one was a six, ‘Ow. Okay, my pain is super legit now.’ I couldn’t speak, and it just kept going and going and going. Tom tossed the package onto the sink counter as he strode to my side, offering himself for me to lean on, arms wrapping around me as he whispered in my ear.

 “Breathe, my love. Breathe. I’m here. I’ve got you. Breathe. In, then out. In, then out. I’ve got you.”

 In, then out. In, then out. He breathed with me, and as instantly as it had begun, it ceased. He released me slowly, kissing me on the forehead as he pulled away. I reached out and took hold of his forearm.

 “How long was that? Do you know?”

 He nodded. “Around sixty-five seconds by my count. I’m thinking we should get your gown on and have Dr. Phillips come back in. You?”

 “Probably not a bad idea. That’s right on the edge between active labor and transition.” I let go of his forearm and he walked back to the counter to retrieve the gown, carefully pulling the plastic apart and removing the bright fabric, then shaking it out to unfold it. He grinned, holding it up in front of himself.

 “I don’t know…I’m quite fond of this. Perhaps I should wear it instead?”

 “Go for it. I’m fine with staying just the way I am. Everyone’s going to get a good look at my hoo-ha anyway…why bother to get dressed at all?” I was only half kidding…the thought of wearing clothing at this juncture seemed not only unnecessary, but unnatural. He stared at me blankly, and I lifted my arms out to the side. “Come on. Do the deed before I change my mind.”

 His brow furrowed. “Maude, if you feel that you’d be more comfortable…”

 “I was joking. Mostly. I’m going to wear it for now, and if I want it gone somewhere down the line I’ll just…take it off. Does that sound reasonable? Also, I really, really want an ice-cold Coke. Which is totally unrelated to our current topic of discussion but fuck, I am thirsty.” The gown was a wrap-style with snaps at the shoulders, and as he was leaning in to fasten them my eyes met his. “Thank you. What you said before…I’m so blessed to have you as my partner in this, and in my life.”

 He kissed me soundly on the lips, then guided me over to the bed and pushed the call button. Bridget was inside the room before Tom’s finger fully lifted off the button, and he relayed the details of what I’d just experienced. She agreed that Dr. Phillips needed to check me right away, then rushed out the door to track him down. The bed had been lowered so I could heft myself in and out of it without looking like a seal flopping around in the sand, and once I was appropriately situated I turned to Tom, smirking as I attempted what was likely an incredibly sub-par imitation of Loki.

 “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have that drink now.”

 There was an apartment-sized refrigerator in the lounge area, complete with an ice maker, and an adjacent beverage cart contained glassware. I’d peeked inside the fridge earlier and found it stocked with all the things we’d requested…Coke, water, mocha flavored coffee creamer, half-and-half, orange juice, and small containers of chocolate milk. Tom chuckled as he jogged out of my sight, and I could hear ice clinking and the sound of a soda can hissing as the top was popped. He reappeared, beverage in hand, just as Dr. Phillips knocked once and entered the room with Bridget.

 “So, Maude, Bridget tells me you’ve had in increase in intensity and duration?”

 I nodded, holding out my hands and making a ‘gimmie’ motion to Tom as he walked around to the left side of my bed and handed me the tumbler of Coke. I counted five ice cubes as I brought it to my lips and took a long, enormously satisfying sip. “Mmm, oh, that is SO good. Thank you. Sorry, Dr. Phillips. Super thirsty. Yes to the increase in intensity and duration. Significant, intensity-wise.”

 “Well, let’s have a look, then. And remember, if you change your mind about pain management, all you need do is ask, all right?”

 Pain management medications were off the table for me, the only exception being an epidural if the need for a C-section arose. Tom had even begrudgingly pinky-sworn that if I wavered, he’d remind me that I wanted to experience holding Henry for the first time stone-cold sober. Repeatedly, if warranted.

 “Thanks, Dr. Phillips. I’m still a ‘no’ for that option, though.” Bridget raised the bed, slid the stirrups out from their hiding place and guided my feet into place as I handed my glass back to Tom. Just as Dr. Phillips finished donning his gloves and sat down on the wheelie stool there I was, back at Contraction Central and he got his first glimpse of Trucker Mouth Maude before the pain paralyzed me completely. “Holy shit, what the actual fucking fuck, mother fucker?!”

 Tom, who I assumed had set my drink down on the side table, reached out to take my hands in his. “Remember, in, then out. In, then out. In…then out.”

 As soon as the pain subsided enough for me to speak, I couldn’t resist squeezing in a witty retort between breaths. “That’s what…got us…into this…in the first place.”

 Tom and Dr. Phillips roared with laughter while Bridget blushed several shades darker than the pink of her braid bows, and I leaned back on the bed, not even having realized I’d shifted forward. Dr. Phillips gave me another minute to relax, then resumed his evaluation. As he finished he glanced up at Bridget and nodded, and she nodded in return, then left the room. He stood, walked across the room to remove his gloves and deposit them in the proper receptacle, then returned to stand on the right side of the bed, opposite Tom. His expression was stoic, and just as I’d begun to panic the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile that quickly grew into a giant grin.

 “Maude, you’re fully effaced and eight centimeters dilated…which, as I’m sure you’re aware, means that you’re in the transition stage. You may feel the urge to push, and let me know of you do, but it’s best if you’d hold off until you’re at ten centimeters. In the meantime, let’s get you properly set up with some monitoring equipment. Bridget’s gathering the team, and Tom, you’ll need to put on a gown…”

 Tom nodded. “Yes sir. I do need to change my clothes first, though.” He squeezed my hands gently. “Will you be all right if I leave you alone?”

 I pulled my hands from his, releasing him. “Yep. I’ll be fine. Go. Hustle that bustle.”

 He grabbed the go-bag and walked quickly toward the bathroom, managing to be back at my side just in time for another contraction. This one lasted for almost two minutes according to Dr. Phillips, and it was downright beastly, leaving me panting. And thirsty. I turned to Tom to ask for another sip of soda and when I noticed what he was wearing I was completely and totally blown away. Biting my lip, I reached out to touch the ratty old used-to-be-black V-neck, and when I looked up at his face he was smiling, a sweet, bashful smile that evoked within me a whirlwind of emotions. My voice cracked when I finally found the correct words to formulate my question, even though I was relatively certain that I already knew the answer.

 “Tom, is that…is that your lucky shirt?”

 He placed his hand over mine, and after so many months of bump-stroking the feel of a flat stomach against my palm was oddly foreign. His voice was little more than a whisper. “You remembered.”

 “I remember. You were wearing it the day you got the call from Ken, and you were wearing it the first time you saw me when you were jogging on the beach in Hawaii, and now…”

 He interrupted, reaching out with his free hand to cup my chin. “I’m wearing it because today is the first time I’m going to see our son.”

 Bridget’s arrival with two other staff members in tow cut our moment short, and Tom put his gown on over his lucky shirt and running shorts while I was fitted with sensors to monitor my blood oxygen level, heart rate, contraction strength, as well as Henry’s heart rate. A blood pressure cuff that would automatically inflate in order to take a reading every few minutes was added to the mix as well, and I realized that this was it, I was in the proverbial birthing bed and would remain as such until said birth occurred. As if on cue, my innards clenched and tightened like a vise grip. An alarm sounded on one of the monitors and Dr. Phillips, who’d been engrossed in conversation with the staffers as they were on their way out the door, spun around to investigate. His eyes widened, which of course freaked me right the fuck out. Said freak-out must have been obvious as he immediately held up both hands, palms toward me.

 “Nothing to worry about, that one’s to let me know that it’s time to get my ducks in a row. I’ll scrub up straight way, Maude. It would appear that you might be seeing your little one a good bit sooner than I anticipated.”  

 While Dr. Phillips prepped, Tom jogged back to the bathroom to retrieve the go-bag, then jogged back to me. His voice was measured and calm when he spoke, but despite his best efforts to keep his shit together, his hands were shaking like crazy as he set the bag down and began rifling through its contents.

 “Okay, we need music. The Beats pill is in here somewhere, isn’t it? I don’t see it…oh fucking hell, did I forget to put it back after I used it last week? Fuck.”

 Dr. Phillips once again took his place on the wheelie stool and I pointed a thumb in Tom’s direction. “Allow me to apologize for his foul mouth as well…mainly because I think it’s partly my fault…”

 Tom snorted. “Partly?” He turned toward us, holding the Beats pill in his right hand and raising it up over his head. “Music shall be had, as victory is mine. I just need my…” His face fell. “Shit. Shit shit shit… where’d I put my fucking phone? This is unbelievable. Can’t things go as planned just one fucking time?”

 I could feel a tingling sensation, one that I now recognized as an indicator of an impending contraction. This wasn’t something I’d expected, him losing his cool, and I had no idea how to handle it or calm him down. And, it frightened me because though, as always, I hated to admit it…I needed him. Nothing else mattered…not the birth plan itinerary, the lighting, the music…all of that was extraneous bullshit. My words came out considerably harsher than I’d wanted them to, but the pain had begun to creep in and I knew there wasn’t much time to say what had to be said.

 “Tom. I don’t need the music. What I do need is…YOU. Oh fuck me, here we go…” I squeezed my eyes shut in order to attempt to fully focus on breathing as I navigated through and away from the pain, barely hearing Dr. Phillips commenting that I was doing an excellent job and to keep with it. I exhaled with a groan, feeling someone first touching, then rubbing my back. The pain was so much more intense…so much worse than I’d expected…that the phrase ‘drawn and quartered’ crossed my mind, and as it waned I flopped back onto the raised head of the bed. The rubbing had ceased, and I wanted it to resume, so I opened my eyes to determine who the appropriate party to screech my demand at happened to be. And there he was, one hand on the left rail, the other holding the bed’s controller. My partner, my love…my Tom. He didn’t notice that I’d opened my eyes at first, so I watched him quietly evaluating the lift and lower options until he looked up and saw me staring back at him. His head tilted slightly to the right, lips pressed together tightly, corners of his mouth turned upward just a fraction. He let go of the rail and reached out to stroke my left cheek, then ran the back of his hand down the side of my neck, voice hushed with repentance.

 “Very sorry about that.” I shook my head back and forth slowly, smiling ever-so-softly. “No, that behavior warrants an apology. It was incredibly selfish, and…”

 I shook my head again, firmer and faster. “While I appreciate that, allow me to remind you that we’ve never done this before and thus have no fucking idea as to what we’re doing and neither of us like to roll that way, so…” I cringed as the tingling began anew, and he held up the controller.

 “May I try something?” I nodded, and as he pushed a button the head of the bed reclined away from me. I frowned until he put the controller back in its place, bent to remove his sneakers and socks, then carefully climbed into the bed behind me, long legs coming to rest to the outside of mine. The stirrups prevented contact from my hips downward, but everywhere else we were touching, and the warmth of his body against me immediately reduced my stress levels by at least half. One arm wrapped around my belly, the other across my upper chest, his chin coming to rest on my left shoulder. “How’s this?”

 I leaned my head against his, placing one hand atop the arm cradling my belly. “Exactly right. Thank you.”

 Neither of us bothered to inquire of Dr. Phillips whether or not this was a permissible arrangement, me because even if he deemed it not allowed I would have told him to fuck right off. But nicer. Probably. Tom’s reason for not asking, I imagined, was related to his consideration of my anticipated reaction. But there wasn’t an opportunity to debate either way, in the end, because it was contraction time again and I found myself singing those words in my head to the tune of Ace Frehley’s ‘Cold Gin’, featured on his solo album way back in 1974. Strange to be thinking of things you’d absorbed during your stint with a former lover while giving birth to your husband’s child, but we’re just puny humans who have little to no control over how our hard drives are structured. While we were together I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around Norman’s devotion and dedication to his son, but now…hmm, maybe that’s why those wires crossed. Problem resolved, trouble ticket closed. Onward with the pain train, destination push it, push it real good…because despite Tom being right there with me, literally and figuratively holding me up while whispering constant encouragement into my ear, I was relatively certain that if this wasn’t over soon I was going to die. And shortly thereafter, as the pain reached its pinnacle and the contractions seemed infinite in their duration, I found myself pretty close to wishing I would.

 Thirty-seven minutes into transition, Dr. Phillips said the magic words…three sentences worth of them, actually, and if I could have reached him, I would have kissed him.

 “All right, Maude. Ten centimeters, fully dilated…and with that last one, baby’s officially crowning. Go ahead and start pushing with the next. Would you like us to set up a mirror so you can view the progression?”

 I didn’t find that last sentence at all magical, however, and I shook my head back and forth in lieu of screaming ‘no oh my god no do not want’. Tom, however, nodded in the affirmative. Not only did I have no desire to witness my body doing the birth thing, the thought of him seeing it was disconcerting for a variety of reasons. I turned my head toward him.

 “If you want to it’s fine, I’ll just, you know, not look… but…you…are you sure about watching this? I mean…it’s…and…” I paused for a second as it dawned on me that the main reason why I didn’t want him to see what was going on down there was because somewhere, deep down in my psyche, I was afraid he’d never be able to look at me the same way again from a sexual standpoint. How could he possibly be okay with eating me out after watching our kid slide out of the same place? I grimaced, preparing to explain myself in front of people who were essentially strangers. “…what’s been seen cannot be unseen, if you catch my drift.”

 In lieu of an immediate response he kissed me, running his tongue over my lips, then nudging it into my mouth. He pulled away, smiling and squeezing me gently as he spoke quietly.

 “There’s nothing in this world or any other that could ever change what I feel for you.”

 I turned my head to face forward again, lifting my right hand and waving at Dr. Phillips and Bridget. “Well, let’s give the man a show, then. I’ll just kick back and, oh, I don’t know…give birth, I guess?”   

 We all chuckled, and Bridget pulled the mirror out from the right side of the bed’s wooden base, where I assumed it was stored in a hidden slot much like the stirrups had been. It was on a pivot stand at the end of a long, foldable arm, and as she was trying to find an angle wherein Tom could see clearly but was out of my direct line of sight, I felt another contraction ramping up. This one seemed less intense, but the urge to bear down and push was overwhelmingly powerful. Instinctual, truthfully, because everything I’d planned and learned went right out the motherfucking window as my body began calling all the shots. Push. Hold. Short, intermittent breaths. Fingers wrapped around the rails, grasping with the strength of someone dangling over a cliff. And then, a reprieve, as well as kudos from Dr. Phillips.

 “Well done, Maude. Well done indeed. Two or three more and baby’s head should be out.”

 Between panting breaths, I managed to squeak out an ‘m’kay’. Tom was silent on the matter, and just as I was about to turn my head in his direction the pain was back and I became acutely aware of the pressure on my premium as I strained to expel what was causing it. Push, push, push…hold. Two breaths, then push and hold again. My muscled relaxed, but the pressure remained, flesh stretched to the limit and threatening to give way. Tom’s voice sounded as if he was in another room, even though I could see his arms still wrapped around me.

 “It’s the top of his head. I can see him. There he is. My god.”

 There were more words, but all I heard was gibberish as the contractions initiated a rapid-fire assault on my pelvic floor. One after another, with barely thirty seconds between them, which wasn’t enough time for me to even consider resting. The stretching eased briefly for one contraction, but with the next it was back and twice as strong, which made me lose my focus and cut my pushing short. When I didn’t push with the one that followed, Dr. Phillips took notice.

 “Maude, baby needs you to keep pushing. We’re at the shoulders, and once they’re through, the remainder is much smoother. Rest through one more, then back at it, all right?”

 It wasn’t all right…I was exhausted, I was hurting, and I was just…done. So very fucking done. But as I rested as he’d suggested, the phrase ‘baby needs you to keep pushing’ repeated in my head, so I snatched it up and made it my mantra because it was the only thing that mattered…Henry. Birth was the start of my parenting journey, the first step, the first test…and I wasn’t going to let him down. Failure. Is. Not. An. Option, Maude. Unfortunately, though my mind was willing, my body was less so. Three pushes later very little progress had been made, and realized the problem was that I felt like I just couldn’t apply enough force in my current position. I pulled myself forward on the bed rails, Tom moving with me to support my weight, and while that helped, midway through the next contraction my left foot slipped out of the stirrup and a rage tantrum born of frustration ensued.

 “FUCK. Fuck me, fuck this, fuck EVERYTHING. Especially those shitty fucking stirrups. I need to have my knees, like…like…closer. To me. FUCKING CLOSER.”

 As Bridget quickly began to fidget with the stirrup settings, Tom’s arms unwound from around me. I was just about to yell at him and ask where the fuck he thought he was going when I felt his hands slide up the back of my thighs and come to rest behind my knees. He pulled upward and back, his forearms now in the crooks of my knees to serve as a brace, and his hips shifted so he could lean forward and use his torso in the same fashion. When I glanced at him the expression he wore nearly made me burst into tears…it was a mixture of fear, strength, determination, encouragement and love. So much love. He craned his neck to touch his forehead to mine.

 “Is that better?” I nodded, moving both our heads like bobble dolls. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Good. All you need to do is push. I’ll hold you in place, shift you around, whatever you need, all right?” Another nod from me, followed by him moving his head back to a more comfortable position. With the next contraction I bore down, leaning into him as he pulled my knees up and back, the stretching sensation so extreme I felt as if I was ripping in two. And so I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed, a raw, primal sound that I’d had no idea I was capable of making. I screamed again with the one that followed, and the seven after that as well, at which point the pressure dissipated and the pain was reduced to a stinging sensation which caused me to assume that this was it, I’d gone numb because I was finally on my way out and lo and behold, I truly wasn’t even mad at it. I felt Tom shaking and experienced a tinge of sorrow at the fact I was leaving him until he shouted and I realized he was laugh-crying.

 “You did it! Maude! You did it! He’s out! He’s here! Open your eyes! Open your eyes!”

 Instead of following his directive I froze in disbelief, thinking that this couldn’t possibly be real, that it was actually over, until I heard first a gasp, then a mewling whimper that quickly turned into a hearty cry of displeasure. My eyes flew open and there he was, lying on the soaked padding in the space between my body and the edge of the bed, Bridget’s left arm serving as a safety barrier while her right hand rested on his chest in order to keep him in securely in place. Dr. Phillips first snipped the cord that had tethered us, then gently wiped blood and mucous from his face. His skin was a deep pink, head covered with a thin layer of black hair, eyes still shut, fists balled and shaking as if to protest his introduction to a bright, chilly space away from everything he’d ever known. I reached between my legs for him, feeling Tom’s arms slowly lowering them so my feet were touching the mattress. Just as I was about to make contact I hesitated, unsure of how to position my hands in order to pick him up safely from this angle. Dr. Phillips smiled, patting my right hand with his left.

 “You’ll do fine, Maude. One hand behind his head, the other under his bottom from the other side. I’m right here, just in case.”

 I could feel Tom unsnapping my gown at the shoulders and adjusting it to bare the upper area of my chest, and as my fingers connected with Henry’s skin I felt…honestly, there’s no way to describe how I felt. It’s a moment outside of time. A life that had sparked inside me, then grown inside me was now right in front of me, breathing, moving…I could hear the sound of his voice and he was warm and alive and real and I, Maude formerly-Gallagher-now-Hiddleston, was somebody’s mother. And thus I formally introduced myself as such to my son as I slipped my left hand beneath his head and he opened his eyes and stared straight into mine.

 “Henry. It’s okay, baby. Your Mamma’s right here. Still me, just a different view.” I wiggled my right hand under his bottom and lifted ever so slowly and carefully, bringing him upward and finally holding him to my chest, skin to skin. He’d stopped crying and his blue eyes were wide as I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and watched him blink in what I interpreted as surprise. “Welcome to the world. Mamma loves you with her whole heart, her whole soul and then some.”

 I turned to look at Tom, who was unabashedly weeping, and grinned with wonder. “Hello, Daddy. Your son has your eyes, I think.” He leaned forward, his arms wrapping around my mid-section as he peered over my left shoulder. I turned my gaze back to Henry, shifting so his head rested in the crook of my elbow and watched as Tom raised his right hand, fingertips first gently stroking Henry’s left cheek, then slowly tracing down and around his body all the way to his feet. I’ll never forget the tone of his voice when he managed to speak…full of reverence, love, awe, and pure, unadulterated joy.

 “Hello, my Henry. My boy. My son. Welcome. I can’t quite believe you’re finally here, that I’m able to see you and touch you. Daddy loves you with his whole heart, his whole soul and then some, too.” As he resumed his stroking he reversed course, and both of us gasped when Henry opened his fist and grabbed onto Tom’s pinky finger. Tom’s eyes met mine, and the look on his face was so similar to Henry’s when I’d kissed his forehead that I totally lost it and started laugh-crying myself.  

 “Tom oh my god…Henry gave me that same look when I kissed him and I can’t…I can’t…” Tom began to chuckle as well, then nuzzled my neck as we both stared down at the small human we’d created until I experienced a minor contraction and remembered that there was uterine clean up to be done. Dr. Phillips saw it on the monitor and cleared his throat before speaking.

 “Terribly sorry for having to interrupt, but we do need to move forward with the placenta delivery and I’d like to take a closer look to see if you need any stitches, Maude. While we’re busy with that Bridget will get Henry fully cleaned up, diapered, dressed, and wrapped.”

 I frowned as she walked around the bed to my right side, and found myself suppressing a growl when she reached for Henry. My body had stiffened, and Tom must have sensed my admittedly semi-bonkers territorial reaction at the idea of someone else holding my newborn son because he extended his right hand in Bridget’s direction, palm out, causing her to pause. His voice was friendly when he spoke, but firm.

 “Bridget, I’d like to be the one to clean and dress Henry for the first time…with your guidance, of course.”

 She withdrew, nodding. “Certainly. I’ll bring the bassinet closer to the bed so Maude can see you both. We’ll need to weigh and measure him first, but the scale and ruler are built right in so that’s easy-peasy.”

 Tom kissed my cheek and began the process of disentangling himself from me. One hand remained on my back the entire time, supporting me until he could raise the head of the bed back up to take his place. I looked up at him, biting my lip, unsure of what to say. I shook my head, frowning.

 “I’m so sorry…I don’t…I just…’

 He leaned in to kiss me again, this time the top of my head, despite the fact that I was literally drenched with sweat. “Please, love, don’t be sorry. I’m so proud of you right now, for that, and for everything. And in awe of your strength…” He choked back a sob. “Thank you, my warrior goddess, for taking me as your own and giving so much of yourself to provide this most precious gift…our son. Our…family.”

 Though I tried to hold back my own tears, they fell anyway and began a rapid descent down my cheeks, then dripped off my chin and onto Henry. I lifted him slowly as I turned toward Tom. “Dude, here. Please take him before I start dripping snot on him too.”

 The sight of Tom cradling Henry in his hands, then holding him to his chest while waiting for Bridget to lock the bassinet wheels in place was surreal…and profoundly, indescribably beautiful. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him holding an infant, and when I had previously it had nudged something inside me that I was unfamiliar with, perhaps even resistant to. And now, on February 11th, 2017, at 12:59 AM according to the clock on the wall to my left, I finally fully understood what that something was. The eternal maternal…the innate desire to create, nurture, and love another human being. Long buried, suppressed in sorrow, imprisoned by fear…shackled by the possibility of loss, and the terror of failure. As I watched my husband lower our son into the bassinet and begin to tenderly cleanse his skin of the remnants of the cocoon my body had crafted for him I felt the power of ‘mother’ rise up within me, and for the first time in my life it was a power representative of good, not evil, and it released me from my chains and banished my fears and though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, I felt more whole, more complete, than even having Tom become a part of my life had made me.

 It was nearly impossible to look away, even as Dr. Phillips applied significant pressure to my belly while I bore down and pushed some more. After the placenta delivery I heard him mutter something about two stiches, and when he asked me if I wanted a numbing agent applied I shook my head, still staring fixedly at Tom as he first diapered than dressed Henry in the simple white cotton onesie with a green-tinted shadow bust of Shakespeare printed on the front that we’d chosen for him. Then came the tiny purple socks, followed by a white knit hat with his initials, HTH, embroidered on it in purple and green thread. Last came the purple and green tie-dyed baby blanket that matched my gown almost exactly, and I grinned when Tom managed to swaddle him with such perfection that Bridget patted him on the back and told him she’d never before seen such a lovely job done by a first-time parent. He lifted Henry out of the bassinet, then began to rock him slowly back and forth in his arms, humming quietly. It wasn’t anything I recognized, so I assumed it was in audible expression of what his heart was feeling. I nearly wept again, but Dr. Phillips tapped my knee in order to divert my attention. Which was warranted, because I was pretty sure he’d been talking but I hadn’t heard a single word. I turned to him, clearing my throat prior to speaking.

 “Sorry, I think you said stuff but I have no clue what. Would you mind repeating, please?”

 He smiled. “I don’t mind a bit, Maude. All of the placenta was accounted for, and the tear to your perineum was around half a centimeter, which is very minor, especially considering the fact that you delivered a nine pounder…”

 I blinked rapidly, jaw dropping open slightly. “Wait, what? Nine? Nine pounds?”

 “Nine pounds, four ounces to be exact. 22 inches long. Heart rate, respiration and coloring are all excellent and Bridget watched while Tom dressed him to make sure muscle tone and reaction were up to snuff. You’ve got a very healthy fellow there. Might have something to do with the source material.” I laughed, and Dr. Phillips shook his head. “No, I mean that, Maude. You worked hard to take care of your body throughout your pregnancy, you stayed physically active, you ate well…”

 Snorting, I pointed both index fingers at him. “If ‘ate well’ equals too much sugar, caffeine, salt and a bunch of really weird shit then you’re spot on.”

 He chuckled. “I might just start recommending that diet to patients if this is the end result. In all seriousness, though…you approached giving birth with incredible focus and determination, but when you faltered I began going over the C-section prep in my head because I wasn’t certain if you’d be able to continue. But before I could get to step three you were back at it, and stronger than ever. I admire your tenacity, Maude. Well done. Very, very well done.”

 What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I decided the keep it simple, stupid strategy would serve me best. “Thank you, Dr. Phillips.”

 “You’re welcome. Allow me to take a moment to advise you that while you don’t feel any of it now since the oxytocin is flowing freely, tomorrow will be an entirely different story. You’ll be sore all over, especially your stomach muscles and the entirety of your pelvic floor. Since you have stitches, you’ll need to use a perineal irrigation bottle instead of paper when you use the bathroom…a bidet might sound better, but that’s off limits until the stitches dissolve. You’ll have post-partum bleeding for ten days or so, and after that light spotting for up to a few weeks. We’ll go over everything again and provide you with written instructions during the discharge procedure. Right now, Bridget will clean you up a bit and help you into a disposable undergarment designed for a heavy flow, and then you’ll be ready to give feeding Henry a go. Would you like me to send in the lactation consultant or would you prefer to attempt it on your own first?”

 “On my own, please.” I winced as whatever liquid Bridget was using made contact with my skin. She apologized as she continued, then patted me dry with a soft cloth. Hefting my ass up in the air was far easier than I thought it would be, and the gauzy undies felt weird but weren’t technically uncomfortable. I looked down at myself, and though it was still puffy, my stomach no longer looked like a giant egg was lurking inside and ready to burst through my skin a la Alien-style. I’d read several articles in which women described feeling empty in an emotional sense after giving birth as a reaction to not being pregnant anymore. Me? Not so much. I was over the fucking moon at the prospect of wearing pants again. Real, actual, people pants that had buttons and zippers and pockets. I tilted my head to the left and raised my brows as I returned my gaze to Dr. Phillips, who was currently standing to my right as he waited for Bridget to finish washing up. “So…when can I, like, get up and walk around?”

 “Whenever you feel ready. Move slowly, and if you feel light-headed, sit back down and rest. Let Tom do the lifting when Henry requires transporting for the next few hours, though, just to be safe. Would you like me to have the concierge bring something up for you both to snack on?”

 I leaned back, resting my head on the mattress. “Oh my god YES please. Anything from our preference sheet is fine. Thank you for thinking of it. And for everything, Dr. Phillips.”

 Tom echoed my sentiment, and Dr. Phillips and Bridget exited the suite so we’d have some privacy, Bridget reminding us to use the call button at any time if we needed anything at all. I reached out with both arms toward Tom, my hands making ‘gimmie’ motions.

 “Hand him over, Hiddleston. Let’s see if these boobs are good for more than just looking at.”

 He snorted. “They’ve always been good for more than just looking at. And while I truly never want to let him go, he’s starting to root at me a bit and I’m afraid I’m of little use to him in that particular department.”

 Henry whimpered as Tom pulled him away from his chest in order to return him to me and Tom talked him through it, voice barely above a whisper.

 “It’s all right, Henry. All is well. It’s time to pay Mamma a visit and have some breakfast. You’ll be warm and cozy again in no time.” And with that, my son was back in my arms again, staring up at me. I opened his blanket burrito enough to free his upper body, then removed his hat and rested him against my chest as I shifted the gown so my breasts were fully exposed. Tom was correct, there was rooting going on for sure. I took a deep breath, then used my right hand to lift my left breast and hold it up, nipple positioned directly in front of Henry’s mouth. I felt the mattress dip a smidge and moved my legs to the right so Tom could sit closer to me. Then, I waited…for a grand total of, like, thirty seconds and then…liftoff. Or latching, if you want to get all technical about it and shit. I looked up at Tom, who was staring down at Henry. When he finally met my gaze I grinned, as did he.

 “My body has made food for another human being and said human being is partaking in consuming the food and is also the sweetest, cutest, most adorable human being I’ve ever laid eyes upon aside from his father. Also, it feels really fucking strange. Not bad, just…strange.”

 We both stared at Henry as he continued to dine, lost in the glow, until the concierge knocked. Tom went to answer, and as the spell was broken I remembered that babies need burping and that not rotating between boobs would lead to unpleasantness. I positioned Henry carefully so his head was resting just below my left clavicle and began to pat his back rhythmically until he let loose a braaap that made me giggle-snort. While right boob got its turn, Tom fed me bagel pizzas while he wolfed down a turkey club sandwich. The suction on my nipple waned, and when Henry’s eyelids began to droop I burped him once more, then watched as he drifted off to dreamland for the first time in the outside world. Tom stood and took him from me, then returned him to the bassinet. I watched as he carefully re-burritoed Henry, put his hat back on, then covered him with a Winnie the Pooh cotton blankie. It was yellow, with all the characters printed in group in the center, and when Tom leaned down to kiss Henry’s forehead I began to weep. Tom came back to sit with me, pulling me into his arms and to his chest, weeping right along with me, neither of us speaking even when the tears were done and gone. I wouldn’t have thought that bond between us could possibly become stronger, nor the connection deeper, but that was indeed the case, though it remained unspoken because there were no words to convey how it felt or what it meant to both of us. All I could come up with in my head was that this love had been two and now it was three, and that was everything.

 I showered while Henry was sleeping, Tom having rolled the bassinet to just outside the bathroom, where he kept watch on both Henry and I while texting our friends and family to advise them that our bundle of joy had arrived and that they were welcome to come to the hospital Saturday afternoon at one PM for a meet-and-greet luncheon before we went home to hole up with our kid and figure out how all this worked. We’d let Bridget know that I was up and about so housekeeping could come in and change the bedding, and once I was cleaned up and dressed in my post-birth ensemble of disposable panties, a white nursing bra and a purple silk robe, an all-encompassing sense of exhaustion overwhelmed me, and as soon as I was in a horizontal position it was lights out for Mamma. Tom rested with me, fetching Henry from the bassinet at our bedside whenever he woke and began to fuss, changing his diaper or passing him to me for nursing, depending upon what seemed to be required at the time. Sometimes it was both, sometimes neither…and I’d decided going in that I wasn’t going to be a ‘cry it out’ parent. If my kid needed cuddling, he’d get cuddling no matter the hour or situation. Overcompensation for my own mother’s shitty parenting style? Probably…but as far as I knew this might be our one and only, and I was bound and determined to offer him everything I had to give.

 Part of our hospital package included a session with a professional photographer, which we decided to use during the luncheon. Tom and I had eaten breakfast at just after eleven AM, a full English for both of us, and he’d showered while I donned my outfit of the day…the addition of a pair of black cotton sweatpants and a fresh pair of disposable panties to the same nursing bra and purple silk robe I’d slept in. We worked together to change Henry’s diaper and outfit, opting for a rainbow-striped footed one-piece with a cartoon speech bubble on the front that read ‘Hello, World!’ in multi-colored script. Tom had barely finished pulling his own navy-blue sweater over his head when Simon and Luke turned up, a whole fifteen minutes early, which was, like, unheard of. And Simon, Mr. Extra Loud Especially At The Most Inconvenient Times, tip-toed into the room while whispering his greeting.

 “Maude, oh my god, look at you, you’re not pregnant anymore and Tom those jeans look like you haven’t washed them in weeks is that like, a style, and where is my nephew? WHERE?” He spotted the bassinet next to the bed and bolted over to it, Luke in tow. “Oh my HEART he’s gorgeous and he’s sleeping how do you get him to sleep the girls are still forever awake and making SOUNDS also sorry not sorry I’m going to wake him up now because I want to hold him and I need to see what color his eyes are.”

 I walked to join them, and even though I didn’t want to admit it, Dr. Phillips had been spot-on…my pelvic area hurt like a motherfucker. It was a constant throbbing, like a toothache, but, you know, in my uterus and vagina. Which didn’t, as far as I was aware, did not, in fact have teeth. Simon had already begun to pick Henry up but thought better of it, eyes meeting mine to ask for permission first. I nodded, and I couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of him holding my child. He’d always been so supportive and positive when I doubted this would ever happen, and both he and Luke had been by my side throughout the most horrific experience of my life…now here we all were, alive, healthy, happy and…parents. What a fucking thing. As Luke and Simon cooed over Henry everyone else began to filter in, including the concierge and photographer. In attendance were Diana and James, Emma, Sarah, Trudy, and, much to my pleasant surprise, Anne. When I asked how she’d gotten to London so quickly, she shrugged and said two days ago she’d just had a feeling and her plane had landed last night at seven PM. It was bittersweet, her being there…I loved her and had already designated her adopted Grandmamma, but her presence always had and always would remind me of the past. Even after you’ve come to terms with it all, the empty spaces where those you’ve lost once stood still remained. The brief bit of darkness faded as I participated in the game of pass the baby and pose for pictures, and I took advantage of having my hands free to shovel enough food into my face to feed three sizable adults. We all gathered for a final group shot, Tom and I front and center, with me holding Henry will sitting on Tom’s lap. Goodbyes were said, and as soon as everyone had departed we called in Dr. Phillips and Bridget for our discharge discussion. An hour and a half later we were walking out the side door of the hospital, hoping that our posting a photo of ourselves and Henry across all our social media accounts would reduce the paparazzi presence. It worked, in part at least, as there were only five of them outside…and they were all very polite and unusually subdued, so much so that when they asked for permission to photograph us we said it was fine as long as no flashes were used. We’d hired a car to pick us up and the driver had placed Henry’s seat inside for us, which made for a relatively quick getaway. Then, suddenly, we were at our destination…taking the elevator up to our place, walking inside…the Hiddlestons, ready to continue the adventure of a lifetime. As a family.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hey! i'm looking for fics where stiles is already part of the pack w derek and like mutual pining or something, basically they get together

Ermagahd! Yes! - Anastasia

(get it…pines..eh eh!)

The Way Back by ineachplace

(1/1 I 4,695 I Teen)

“Greetings from Venezuela!”

Derek didn’t sign the postcard. Didn’t write anything on it at all, except for a return address on the right and a little black squiggle where he presumably checked to see if his pen still had ink.It’s the first anyone has heard from him since he left. Scott and Kira had a working theory that he became a humble farmer, living off of beets and carrots and tending to a ridiculous amount of horses while Cora fought bulls or tigers or something.

No one asks the obvious question when Stiles tells them. Maybe out of decency, out of some shred of respect for his feelings, or maybe because they really don’t know. He can’t be sure.

#librarynerd by Anonymous

(1/1 I 7,742 I Teen)

“I’ll likely get far more done in the group if I’m not distracted watching you with your pen–”

“My–My pen?”

“Pens. Drinking straws. Don’t act like you don’t know,” Derek says darkly. “You know.”

Just Breathe by Kedreeva

(1/1 I 15,769 I Teen)

While keeping Erica company at her lamaze class, Derek meets Stiles.

Thoughts of You by Emela

(3/? I 20,196 I Explicit)

Stiles just wants the pain to go away. He wants the dreams to go away, and when the nightmares of the Nogitsune get worse, he turns to BDSM.

He doesn’t know how to stop looking for that fix, even when he has a Dom who terrifies him and treats him badly.

He never expected Derek to help him but when Derek offers, Stiles learns having someone to help him escape the monsters in his head isn’t all that he wants and maybe, just maybe, it’s not all Derek wants either.

Under Development by dr_girlfriend

(12/12 I 24,763 I Teen)

Environmental lawyer Derek Hale is determined to stop the planned defacement of his beloved Beacon Hills Preserve by the mammoth Starr Development company. To do so, he makes a deal with the devil himself — Stiles Starr, the brash young scion of the Starr family and COO of Starr Development. Derek hates Stiles at first sight. Mieczysław Stilinski, on the other hand, is someone that Derek could grow to like…or even love._

Excerpt:

“I have a proposition for you, Derek Hale,” Stiles interrupted. He was lounging in the corner of the car, head lolled back to expose the smooth, pale line of his mole-dotted throat. The man had a werewolf bodyguard, there’s no way he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” Derek blurted out, not entirely sure which of them he was trying to convince.

Instead of taking offense, Stiles’ eyes crinkled in amusement. “That’s not what I was proposing,” he said evenly. “Not that I — or anyone with eyes — would turn you down. I mean, you’re hot like burning with this whole naughty librarian vibe you have going on, but I had a different…position in mind.”

an exaltation of larks by llassah

(1/1 I 25,739 I Explicit)

There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

its derek hale wtf by bleep0bleep

(16/16 I 38,653 I Explicit)

Stiles doesn’t buy the whole magical, transcendent soulmate reveal story, snickers at all those movies where the couple touches each others marks for the first time, eyes glimmering over in emotion when they feel the bond surge through their bodies (who comes up with this stuff?), shakes his head at all those dreamy-eyed people willing to shell out money to track down their other half.Stiles is just really ambivalent about the whole thing. He meets his other half in his lifetime? Cool. If not? It’s just fine; he’s happy where he is.At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

~

You know how this story ends, but how does it begin?

Not Your Disney Romance by tylerfucklin (Zimothy)

(5/5 I 42,065 I Mature)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

The Hour of the Wolf by Suaine

(4/4 I 54,045 I Teen)

Stiles never wanted to be a werewolf, but the choice is taken out of his hands by a series of unfortunate events. When he wakes up his life has become infinitely more complicated.

The New Normal by midnightcas

(27/27 I 63,392 I Teen)

After Stiles gets hurt…again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little….not normal.

Seeing Wolves (Where There Are No Wolves) by MellytheHun

(16/16 I 71.301 I Explicit)

Or otherwise known as “Derek Goes to the Doctor,” wherein Derek gets the therapy he so desperately needs and gets healthy. The clearer his head gets, the more room it seems to have for Stiles.

Cathedrals by KarasuYurei, KouriArashi

(17/17 I 78,639 I Teen)

After the events with Deucalion and Jennifer Blake, Derek goes on a search for his biological family. He, Stiles, and Cora head to New York City to try to find the family he doesn’t remember. It turns out that there was a lot to his adoption that he never knew.

[ephemeraltea]

this DUMB BENCH lifted heavy boxes at work yesterday because no else could even though my back was already fucked up this week... and now i'm so stiff and sore that i'm breathing like a lamaze trainee and i still have like. almost two hours of work left.

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

He Should Be Here

Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Sammy Winchester (no I am not stuttering!), Lisa Braeden (mentioned), Ben Braeden (mentioned), Chuck (mentioned) Lucifer (mentioned), Michael (mentioned)    

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Lisa

Warnings: Character death (only as in canon), nothing much else I think.     

Word Count: 1600ish

A/N: Hey guys welcome to SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2017 - I hope y’all are ready to cry. As one of your hosts I thought it was my duty to do my best to make sure you go to bed with puffy eyes tonight so I am posting 3 brand new one shots in honor of this day. This is number 1

I have been wanting to write this fic for the longest of times - I hope you guys will enjoy it. It is heavily inspired by You Should Be Here by Cole Swindell

Thanks to @blacktithe7 for being a sweetie and betaing this for me

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

It was Tuesday, and just like any other Tuesday, you had gone to the park. You sat on the bench watching the kids play as you gently rocked the stroller with your sleeping baby boy inside it.

You didn’t come here for your son though. You came for you. You had been ever since the moment you had found out you were pregnant. It had been a Tuesday too, and a beautiful day just like today. You had called the only person you could think to call, even if you had vowed to each other only 3 weeks ago to go your separate ways and start over. Given your condition, that promise hadn’t lasted long, and this park had not only become your place to dream, it had become your meeting ground. It had become your only connection to the father of your child.

“Hey, how’s little Sammy doing?” his voice sounded behind you, and you looked up to see the tall, broad ex-hunter standing above your stroller, smiling softly at your sleeping son .

“Growing like weed,” you answered, making Dean chuckle as you raised from your seat to let him hug you.

“He lives up to his name then,” Dean spoke softly, giving you an extra squeeze before releasing you and sitting down beside you on the bench.

You just sat there quietly beside each other. Dean and you were the same. You never liked talking about how you felt, and doing so now even if you knew you both needed it was next to impossible. You loved Dean like an older brother and you knew he loved you like the sister he never wanted, but whenever you were together you felt the loss even more strongly than when you were alone, even after baby Sam was born.

You could barely remember a time you had been alone with Dean for more than a few hours before… You couldn’t think about it. Sam saved the world. He sacrificed himself, and he saved the world. You knew you shouldn’t be angry at him, but you were. He jumped into the cage, pulling Lucifer and Michael with him, and he left you. He left you alone, grieving and pregnant with his child. He hadn’t known of course, not that you were sure him knowing would have made a difference. This was who those two boys were. Self sacrificing, flannel wearing, morons, that never realized just how loved they were or how much they were needed. You had screamed at Dean for it until you were hoarse, but the truth was, he wasn’t the one you wanted to scream at. You weren’t even sure you wanted to scream at Sam. You wanted to wring God’s neck for not stepping in. You wanted to make someone pay for how unfair it all ways.

Sam should have been here when you were pregnant. Instead, you got daily phone calls from his brother and pregnancy advice from his girlfriend. You liked Lisa, but it all just felt wrong. It felt wrong. So you had stopped answering your phone in the end, and Dean had started coming here. He needed to see you, you knew that. He was grieving too, and you along with the child you had been caring was his only real connection to his brother.

The first few month you had met, Dean had talked to you about his research. You had listened until you couldn’t anymore. Dean had looked so defeated when you had pleaded with him to stop. Unless he found a way to actually get Sam back, you didn’t want to hear it.

Ever since then all you had talked about was you and the pregnancy. Dean always made sure you were alright. He even asked you if you needed him at doctor’s appointments or lamaze classes. You had loved him for it but declined his every offer. Dean had his own family to look after, and it wouldn’t feel right having him there. Even sitting next to him right now was hard. As much as you loved him, he wasn’t his brother, and Dean knew that. He never pushed you or asked you twice after you had said no to something, as much as he needed you and baby Sammy, as hard was it for you to be around him, Dean never pushed you for more. He was there in a heartbeat every time you had asked. He kept every appointment and he cared more than he had too. Still he never asked anything more of you than you were willing to give. He knew that as much as he needed the two of you, he was a painful reminder of the man you had lost.  

But Sammy deserved having his uncle in his life. Even if your son was never going to have his dad, he was going to have the best uncle in the world. You would get used to being around Dean without Sam eventually. Your heart would heal eventually. You would be able to look at happy families like the one in front of you now, without wanting to scream at the skies about the unfairness of it all. Eventually you would stop crying yourself to sleep at night. Eventually you would go on with your life, but you never wanted Dean not to be part of whatever life lied ahead of you. He was your son’s uncle, and he was the love of your life’s brother. More than a brother. You had never seen a bond like the one between Sam and Dean. You knew that Dean would do anything for you without question, solely because you had held his brother’s heart. You knew no matter what this world would throw at you, you and your son would have a protector for life. Someone that understood your pain and grief. Someone that would listen, if you could only find it in you to finally say the words out loud.

You stared at a little boy, squealing with laughter as his father pushed him on the swing. You stared at the woman, laughing from the bench across from you, holding a newborn baby, not much younger than your Sammy. You fought your tears but all you could see was how Sam would have wanted this for the three of you. You felt robbed of the chance of being a family. Of having a shred of normalcy in this godforsaken world. You missed him more than you had ever imagined it possible to miss anyone and something deep inside of you finally broke.

“It’s not fair Dean,” tears streamed down your face. You felt Dean’s eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t bare too. “We should all be free, leading normal lives. You should be here with Ben and Lisa, not sitting on a bench listening to me.”

“Y/N/N,” Dean tried to interrupt you, but you didn’t let him.

“Sam should be the one beside me, with his arm around me. We should be happy and talking about a second child or how the first one even happened. He should be annoying me, walking around with his stupid phone taking picture of us, and you should be giving him a hard time for it. Sam should grow up knowing his dad and not that he died a hero. It’s not fair Dean,” you cried, and Dean’s arms closed around you, pulling you tightly against his chest as his lips pressed against you temple.

“I know sweetheart. I know,” he mumbled as he soothingly rocked you back and forth as you cried. “I know you don’t wanna hear it Y/N, but I haven’t given up. I’ll never give up.”

You pulled away with a sob, drying your eyes before letting your gaze meet Dean’s just as the horn sounded from the road, just like it did every week. “Good,” you nodded, and Dean smiled softly, before getting back on his feet.

“If you need anything…”

“I’ll call you, Dean. Go be with your family,” you waved him off with a smile. “We’ll be fine.” You reached out for the stroller. “We got each other.”

“See you next week,” Dean grabbed your hand before you could reach the stoller, giving it a small squeeze, and you looked up at him. You knew that expression. He was going to get Sam back to you, but you didn’t ask. You didn’t wanna know. As much as you wanted Sam here, you also didn’t want to lose Dean. He had come to mean too much to you over these past month. He was your brother and your friend. He was the closest thing your son had to a dad at the moment, and you didn’t wanna live in a world without him either.

“Just don’t do anything stupid Dean. Ben deserves a dad, and Sammy deserves an uncle.” You gave Dean’s hand a squeeze, and you could have sworn you almost saw tears behind his eyes as he gave you a quick nod before turning towards the stroller. Dean gently tugged the covers back over your son and ran a finger over his cheek, careful not to wake him up.

“See you soon Sammy,” he almost whispered before turning and walking towards the car where Lisa and Ben were waiting for him. You took a deep breath, wiping your cheeks before gathering up enough courage to get back on your feet. You quietly walked back to your house, pushing your sleeping son, hoping that this would be the day Sam would be there waiting for you.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t see the man behind the bushes. You didn’t see the way he had been watching you and Dean with a cold detached smile on his face. You didn’t see that the man was the spittin image of the man you were still grieving and longing for every day. You didn’t know that your life was only days away from changing forever...   

Sam Tag Team

 @mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @iamnotsaneatall @jpadjackles @atc74 @crushing83 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fuckyeahfeysand @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @d-s-winchester @feelmyroarrrr @sleep-silent-angel @kayteonline @hexparker @starswirlblitz @faith-in-dean @knittingknerdy @lenaabs @petrovadixon @blanketmadeofstar @idreamofhazel @arryn-nyxx @winchester-writes @tas898 @mogaruke @emoryhemsworth @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @supernatural-jackles @riakie @adriellej @dance4angels @castielsbecky @charliebradbury1104 @jayankles @mouselovesmusic @nothin-after-79 @im-most-definitely-fangirling @dudalleo @ivvitm1109 @sinbadcat83 @winchesterprincessbride @captainradicalpassion @mrswhozeewhatsis @brooke-supernatural16 @purgatoan @haleyhay96 @mamapeterson @spn-fan-girl-173 @be-amaziing @sandlee44 @roxy-davenport @bringmesomepie56 @gecko9596 @impala-dreamer @jensen-jarpad @deansleather @caffeine-countingstars @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @icequeen1371 @phoenixia67 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @brihughes4 @aiaranradnay @secretsandlove81199 @findingfitnessforme @muliermalefici @bemyqueenofdarkness @anna1012131