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hgfictionwriter · 2 months ago

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Self Control: Part Thirteen - Arrival

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: After months of waiting, the moment is finally here. You and Jessie welcome your newborn daughter into the world.

Warnings: Difficult labour. Graphic birth. Language.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for sticking with me so long on this journey. And thank you to everyone who answered the poll about the baby's name weeks ago!

The final whistles blew and Jessie braced her hands on her knees as she took a moment to breathe. She looked up in disappointment at the scoreboard, but soon rallied and began high fiving her teammates.

She did her rounds around the pitch with the team to thank and greet the fans and the stadium lights shone brightly by the time she and the team started filtering into the tunnel.

She walked over to her cubby and retrieved her phone first thing. You were days away from your due date and knew to call the staff if you went into labour - they’d get Jessie off the pitch right away - still, she worried.

Two texts from you. No missed phone calls though. That was a good sign.

Jess. Contractions have started.

The midwife’s on her way. Don’t panic. My water hasn’t broken and we know this could be hours and hours. I’ll call if things escalate.

Jessie stood frozen. Her eyes were wide and her phone sat idle in her hand. She didn’t even think she was breathing.

Then, all of a sudden, she snapped back to the moment and spun on her heels in a rush to start gathering her things, inadvertently tripping over the bench and careening into Janine who was standing nearby.

“Hey!” Janine complained as she rubbed her shoulder. Jessie was already scrambling back to her cubby by the time the blonde even turned around.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” Jessie stammered as she shakily threw belongings into her backpack. She rushed towards the exit, belatedly realizing she didn’t have shoes on and cursed, running back.

“Whoa,” Janine frowned as Jessie tried to stomp into her shoes and soon haphazardly tried to guide them on with trembling hands. “Everything good?”

Jessie was short of breath as her eyes darted across the floor absently as she now palmed at her pockets.

“Where are my keys…,” she mumbled as she spun on the spot looking around wildly.

“Jess,” Janine spoke firmly as she waved in the girl’s face, belatedly drawing Jessie’s attention up to her. Janine spoke measuredly. “What’s going on?”

Jessie’s mouth was dry as she opened it to speak, nothing coming out initially. “Y/N-Y/N’s in labour.”

“Oh shit,” Janine said, her own eyes growing wide before more shock settled in. “Wait. When?!”

“I-I don’t know!” Jessie replied, voice and emotions rising. “During the game sometime?” Her words tapered as she absently fetched her phone in an attempt to check the timestamp of your message, but fumbled it onto the floor instead. “Fuck.”

“Okay, hold on,” Janine said holding up both hands. Jessie dodged around her and started tearing her bag apart looking for her keys.

“I have to go,” she said curtly.

“I will drive you,” Janine told her. “You’re…frazzled. Let me drive you home. You can reset on the drive.”

Jessie opened her mouth to speak as she tried to process the offer and the consequences of it. She found herself shaking her head before she could find the words.

“No. I - we need the car. If something goes wrong…,” she trailed off, now digging in her pockets again in vain.

Janine reached out and calmly grabbed keys off the shelf of her cubby.

“Looking for these?” She gave her a pointed look. “I’m driving you. I will drive your car and I can get a ride from one of the girls back to my place. Now let’s go.”

The blonde had Jessie by the arm as soon as she finished speaking and began calmly ushering her out of the locker room, quickly speaking to Sam and communicating the plan as she walked out. The locker room immediately erupted into a buzz of activity at the news, and Janine held up her arm to keep them at bay.

“You’ll get updates soon, I’m sure,” she called over her shoulder. “Baby Fleming will be here soon, everyone. But not too soon!”

Jessie’s heart raced and she peered over her shoulder to see the team wishing her and you luck and to call if you needed anything.

She felt jittery and like her limbs were numb as they walked briskly to her car. As she was getting in she saw Sam running out to her own car saying she’d follow so she could drive Janine back.

“Baby convoy!” Janine announced brightly as she started the car. Meanwhile, Jessie was still short of breath as she fumbled with the seatbelt.

She closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath, finally getting her seatbelt on and feeling her pulse start to even out.

“I can’t believe she didn’t call,” Jessie breathed as she pushed her head back into the headrest, palms braced on her thighs and eyes closed as she worked to steady her nerves.

Janine snickered slightly as she manoeuvred them towards the house.

“Sounds like you’re more panicked than her,” she teased, drawing a dark glare from Jessie.

“Or,” she drew out her word in emphasis, “she’s not taking this seriously enough. How can she be so nonchalant? What the fuck.”

“Get it out of your system, because you’re going to have to be calm and supportive from here on it,” Janine told her. She gave her friend a purposeful look as she drove. "And I know you - when shit gets crazy and there's chaos, you are the calm in all of that."

Jessie gave a shaky exhale before accepting with a few nods, trying to let Janine's words sink in and reassure her. She took one more steadying breath before bringing the phone up to her ear to call you.

The phone rang several times before you picked up. You'd hardly greeted her before Jessie spoke over you.

"Babe, why didn't you call me? Are you okay? Is the midwife there yet? How far apart the contractions? Are you alright?"

So much for calm.

"Jess." You spoke firmly, but patiently waiting her out and forcing a lull before continuing. "I am fine. No, Theresa's not here. Contractions are still 20 minutes apart and only lasting about 40 seconds. I talked to her though. It's just early labour. She'll come when I'm between 5 and 10 minutes, and that could be hours away."

A mixture of relief and apprehension flooded Jessie's system. You were fine. But at the same time, your contractions had started. It was time. And she wasn't there.

"Okay," she managed to say as she forced a smile and hoped it filtered into her voice as well. "I'm on my way right now. I'm probably 10 minutes away."

"Alright," you said. "Drive safe. You don't need to rush - just get here safely."

"Oh, well, Janine-"

"Oh fuck."

"What?" Jessie cut in, alarm cresting inside of her as she sat forward in her seat and her breath caught.

"Um," you said, "my water just broke."

"Oh fuck," Jessie echoed. She held out her hand to calm herself more than anything. "Okay. Okay - I'll be there right away, Y/N."

"Mmnh," she heard you grimace into the phone as a contraction hit you.

"Babe," Jessie said helplessly, leaning her elbow on her thigh and cupping her face. The line was silent and it was killing her. "How bad is it? Are you okay?"

"...Yep," you said through grit teeth. Jessie sighed in frustration.

"Baby, why didn't you call me?" She implored weakly. "I should be there right now. It's just a stupid football game. I love you and I should've been there this whole time with you."

"Mm, if it’s alright with you we can fight about this later. I’m trying to have your baby right about now," you said.

"Fuck. I'm sorry," Jessie said, her nerves immediately settling as she recentered herself. "We're only a few streets away. I'll be there soon, babe."

"I know, love," you said with an audible, drawn out breath. "Okay. It's over."

Jessie found herself exhaling along with you. She kept you company on the phone and soon pulled up to the front of your house.

"Call if you need anything," Janine told her as she got out of the car to give her a hug and give her the keys. "I'm serious."

"Yes, of course," Jessie said distractedly, her eyes focused on the front door and hurriedly drawing herself out of her friend's embrace to get to you. She was halfway down the walk when she turned, walking backwards still towards the door. "You're good to get home?"

"My ride's right here," Janine assured her as she pointed to Sam pulling around the corner. "You've got this! Give us updates when you can!"

"Alright," Jessie said with a series of rapid nods as she turned back around. She gave a vague wave and fumbled with the keys before opening the door. She swung it open and threw her bag down in the entryway.

"Y/N!" She called as she began to search the house.

“In here!”

Jessie spun around and jogged towards your voice. She rounded a corner to see you sitting on the couch, apparently in a fresh set of shorts, a hand on your stomach.

A rush of relief and adoration went through her just upon seeing you. She felt a calm rush over her despite everything. Now she was where she was supposed to be. No matter what happened, you were together and would navigate it all with one another.

She walked over and dropped to her knees in front of you. She hugged your middle as far as her arms would let her and peppered your face with kisses. She jostled as you chuckled and ran your fingers through her hair.

“Hi baby,” you greeted.

“Hi,” she said gently, eyes bright and almost teary as she pulled back to look up at you and take you in. She gave a slow shake of her head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I-”

“Jessie. It’s okay. If I was worried or needed you to rush I would’ve called. We are perfectly okay,” you assured her, holding her gaze. “You know we could be going through this for a long time before something really happens.”

Jessie nodded reluctantly. It was true, but still.

“I just wanted to be here for you through all of it,” she went on before holding up her hands, palms out. “But, let’s move on.” You gave her a grateful look. “I’m here. And I’m not leaving your side. I’m here to do anything and everything you need while you do this incredible work to bring our baby into the world,” she said as she sat back enough to tenderly caress your taut stomach.

Just like their midwife and classes said, early labour was long and tedious. Movies and shows made it seem so sudden and fast, but in reality, at least for you, it was hours and hours of ever increasing pain.

You’d barely slept all night and she knew you were exhausted already, but things were poised to only escalate further; a cycle that would continue to close in and worsen.

As your contractions increased, she felt desperate to help, but was entirely powerless. It broke her heart to see you in so much pain, knowing it was her fault in a way and she couldn’t share the burden at all.

“Ooo,” you breathed steadily and audibly, your hands on your back and eyes closed as you walked in a slow circle in the living room, trying to walk through the pain and discomfort. Jessie trailed behind you, eyes trained on you, watching vigilantly for an opportunity to help or support.

Your steps stilled and your face screwed up in pain. You doubled over slightly, bracing your hands on your thighs and Jessie had her arm around you in a second, supporting your weight to hold you up.

“Mm,” you ground out, eyes still tightly shut and body tense as you rode out a wave of pain.

Jessie rubbed your lower back in an effort to provide some reprieve, however small. “Try not to forget to breathe,” she coached gently, not wanting to dictate things for you or discredit your efforts, but also still try to keep the coping strategies as forefront as possible to hopefully help you.

“Yes, dear,” you said tightly, your irritation not entirely veiled, as you let your head fall back. You breathed despite your complaint and she saw its effects as your body relaxed subtly.

When you’d finally rode out the contraction you went over and sat down on the yoga ball in the room with a heavy sigh and a small groan. Jessie came up behind you immediately and began massaging your back once more, earning a soft moan of appreciation as you rolled your hips back and forth.

“Oh my gosh,” you said. “She’s so low in my pelvis. It’s so much pressure.”

“That contraction was only five minutes apart. I’m going to call Theresa,” she told you as you distractedly nodded. She retrieved her phone and stood to walk a few feet away.

"Please don't go far," you beseeched as you peered over your shoulder at her retreating form. "I need you here."

Jessie turned around right away and returned to your side, placed her hand between your shoulders and began massaging your sore muscles there. "I'm right here, baby," she assured you and you immediately brought a hand up to her wrist, clinging to her and not letting go.

Jessie hung up a couple of minutes later and tucked the phone away in her pocket.

"She's on her way," she told you and you merely nodded again, eyes now trained on the ceiling in focus. "I'll go get you some more water," she went on and cracked a smile for you. "I'll be a minute tops. And I'll make sure it has lots of ice."

When she returned, you took the cup from her gratefully and Jessie knelt in front of you. Your arms came up around her shoulders right away and you leaned heavily on her, moaning and resting your head against hers. Her chest filled with warmth and she kissed your cheek.

You began to wince, another contraction coming on, your arms tightening around her. Jessie leaned up into you to better support your weight.

"Distract me," you told her, voice faintly strained. "Tell me something."

"Um, okay," she said as reached up around you to rub your back as best she could. She wracked her brain, annoyed that it was suddenly blank. Eventually she lit up as a thought popped up.

"Okay. Did you know that mangrove forests are incredibly effective at storing carbon? Up to four times more per hectare than tropical rainforests?" She asked.

You chuckled softly despite your discomfort. "You are such a nerd. I love you." Whatever moment of relief you had quickly dissipated and she felt your face fill with tension once more against her own. "Okay, that kind of worked. Tell me something else."

"Hmm. Alright. Um, in university Teagan and I were in her dorm and - I don't know how it started - but we were competing to see who could balance longer on a basketball. She couldn't even fully stand up, so I, of course, was like, 'Yeah, I can absolutely do that' - I stood up, but went flying a moment later, like feet flying right out under me, the ball shot across the room and and busted this floor lamp and, I just ricocheted off the nearby bed, arms flailing and hitting the floor. So I won - but at what cost," she finished with a short laugh.

"Oh my god," you laughed, before clutching the underside of your stomach with a heightened wince. "Oh shit - that hurts. Okay, nothing funny," you said, though a smile still lingered despite the pain.

"Oh shit," Jessie said with an apologetic smile as she caressed your stomach and kissed your head once more. Her smile shifted into a smirk. "Well, if you didn't want anything funny, you shouldn't have gotten engaged to such a jokester."

You laughed again, wincing once more and nudging her. "Oh yeah, you're a regular comic."

"Um, okay. How about this? Remember how your team invited me to that sustainability event - long before our first date. And I came and we had some drinks and we started talking about [y/favourite show]?"

"Mhmm." You nodded against her.

"And remember how I said I loved that show?"

You nodded once more, still clinging to her.

"I kind of lied," Jessie admitted. She felt your grip on her change and she went on quickly. "I loved it! But I'd just overheard you gushing about it with your coworker on that call we all had a week before, so I binged it and read up on it before the event so I'd be able to talk to you about it. I was only like a season and half in by the event though - so I just read all the spoilers so we could talk at length about it. I was just so nervous and I wanted to make sure I could keep our conversation going and I'd have something interesting that you wanted to talk about!"

By the time Jessie finished your contraction had waned and you leaned back to give her a scrutinizing look that dissolved into a laugh.

"You're ridiculous. I enjoyed talking with you about so many things. Still do. Like when you talk about freakin mangroves." You smirked. "Well, since we're confessing. I did an awful lot of Googling about soccer after I met you the first time. Didn't want you to think I was completely clueless."

Jessie beamed, but it transformed into a mischievous grin a moment later. She shrugged her shoulder teasingly. "I could kinda tell."

"Hey!" You complained as you swatted playfully at her. "I'm in labour," you declared dramatically. "I'm having your baby! You're supposed to be nice to me right now."

Jessie laughed and kissed you. "You know I'd do absolutely anything for you."

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

The midwife arrived and your labour continued. More hours wore on and there were moments where exhaustion threatened Jessie as well, especially coming right off of a game last night, but she pushed it aside to focus on and tend to you. Theresa did force her to take a few breaks here and there, but as far as Jessie was concerned, you didn't really have the choice to take breaks, so neither would she.

"Oh fuck," you breathed as another contraction hit you. The last one had only ended a few short minutes ago and you'd barely had a chance to recover before another washed over you.

You had your hands clasped around the back of Jessie's neck, both of you standing as she supported you while you hung down off of her. You grimaced in pain and your body trembled despite her holding you up. Sweat beaded across your forehead and you were pale.

She held you steady as you rocked, suspended from her shoulders, trying to find any ounce of relief as you rode out the wave.

"I need to lay down," you said in a shuddering voice as the contraction ended. You were weak, struggling to stand up in her arms now and leaned heavily on her as she ushered you towards the bed. She set you gently down on the edge and grabbed a towel to dab at the sweat on your brow.

She and the midwife got you settled onto the bed, a wall of pillows behind you to help you sit up. Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled.

"There's so much pressure," you winced. "Mmh. I feel like I need to push."

"Let's check your progress," Theresa said. Your legs were spread already, the only remotely comfortable position for you right now. "9 centimeters still," she said as she drew back a gloved hand and looked to you both. "Your contractions are getting closer and closer though. You'll be able to push soon."

You groaned heavily, nearly sobbing as your head rest listless against the pillows behind you. "Jessie," you cried her name feebly and she climbed up next to you on the bed in a flash, grasping your hand and holding it tightly.

"I'm too hot," you panted, hand clutching hers and the other clutching the sheets repeatedly in visible discomfort.

"Okay, baby," Jessie said with a series of dutiful nods and went to go grab you a cold, wet cloth, but you tightened your grip on her urgently.

"No, please don't go. Don't leave me," you whined and not even able to open your eyes as you fought through the relentless pain.

"I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you," Jessie assured you without hesitation. A strange feeling came over her at seeing you, this woman who was so stubborn and independent, brought to this point where you were unabashedly clingy and desperate. It made sense and she was happy to cater to you, but it spoke to the level of distress you were in.

She looked to Theresa and the woman waved her off immediately, silently assuring her to stay and leave the task to her.

A clipped cry fell from your lips as a new contraction hit you. You tensed up and all Jessie could do was knead your tired muscles and do her best to serve as an anchor for you in this flurry of physical agony.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. You writhed in place and Jessie could see how you ground your teeth together. She reached up with her free hand to slowly, but firmly rub the center of your chest, hoping to subtly steady your breathing.

It was torture for her to see you like this. Grimacing in increasing pain for hours on end and knowing it was going to get worse before it would get better.

Your whole relationship, her only goal was to make your life easier, softer, more comfortable. And here you were in the greatest pain of your life and it was all her fault. She felt horrible.

"Oh fuck," you eventually whimpered as the contraction seemingly faded. Theresa returned with the cold compress and Jessie took it as she moved in closer to you and pressed it to your forehead. You turned into her and whimpered further.

"You're doing so good, baby," she said as she kissed the top of your head and held a cup of ice chips up to your mouth. You chewed a couple before pushing her hand away.

"Remember how I said I can’t wait until she’s here? I changed my mind.”

Jessie spied the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips. She kissed your head again, amazed that you could find the capacity for some kind of humour during such a time.

You pushed yourself up on the bed further and grimaced again. "Oh fuck." You doubled over in pain once more, clutching your rounded stomach. "I really feel like I need to push."

"You can't just yet, sweetie," Theresa said gently.

You groaned and you tugged on Jessie's arm to pull yourself forward. She watched the movements you were telegraphing and helped you onto your hands and knees. You immediately leaned your head down onto your folded arms, your legs spread wide, belly pressing into the bed as you moaned into the contraction.

Jessie rubbed your lower back and leaned forward to kiss your shoulder. You whimpered in response as you continued to labour on all fours.

You rocked subtly back and forth for several more waves of contractions until you let out a low, muffled yell.

"Jess. Jess - I can feel her. She's moving down," you panted.

She looked to Theresa in concern and the midwife checked your progress once more.

"Okay, sweetie. It's time - you're at 10 cm. When you feel the urge, you can go ahead and push."

You let out a small whimper and straightened your arms as you breathed heavily, preparing yourself. Jessie kissed the side of your head, lips lingering.

"You've got this, my love. You're amazing. You're so strong. I'm right here with you," Jessie said, ignoring the way her own pulse quickened at the prospect of what was to come.

You panted, eyes closed and still in such pain as you awaited the opportunity to push. She leaned forward slightly to keep watch of your face as she continued to knead your back and hips. Only a few seconds passed before your features screwed up and you tensed up, starting to push.

Jessie's nerves were beginning to fray as she realized what was happening.

You moaned as you bore down. Jessie shifted her attention to your entrance, though knowing it would be too early for any signs of your daughter appearing.

"Oh fuck," you cursed. You panted and your arms began to tremble. "S-she's coming Jess. Oh my God."

Jessie found herself smiling for some reason. She looked back up to you, "You're making it happen. You're incredible."

You continued to push until the contraction waned and your body grew limp, Jessie reaching out to help support you.

"That was great, Y/N. Just like that again next time, okay? You've got this. And if you need to change positions you tell us - we're here," Theresa said and you nodded faintly.

The next contraction came and you bore down once more. When it ended, you shook your head. "I need to sit back," you said, palming around looking for Jessie's hand. She reached out quickly to grasp your hand and began guiding you back. "I want you behind me." Jessie nodded and sat back against the pillows and nestled you in between her legs and you leaned back against her chest.

"This okay?" She asked as she pulled you tighter against her. You nodded rapidly, turning your head against her shoulder and burrowing against her as you pulled her arm across your chest and gripped her forearm with one hand, the other hand gripping her thigh.

Another groan fell from your lips as you began to push once more, your fingers digging into Jessie's arm and leg. Jessie sat up with you to help you push.

"You're doing so good," she whispered over your grunts as she gently thumbed your shoulder.

When the contraction ended you melted into Jessie's embrace and she continued to gently caress you. She steadied her breathing as she encouraged you to try to do the same and was pleased when your chest went from rapidly rising and falling to something calmer.

"Oh, Jess. She feels so big. Oh my God," you whimpered as you burrowed your face into her further. Jessie kissed the side of your head and Theresa spoke up.

"You're having a big baby, Y/N. It's going to be a lot of work, but you are prepared, you're doing amazing, and Jessie is here with you to help you every step of the way. You're making progress."

Jessie watched as your face fell and your rolled your head against her shoulder.

"Mmh, how did someone so small put such a big baby in me?" You complained. Jessie could do nothing other than apologize, but to her surprise you managed a feeble chuckle. "She's healthy. She has to be healthy." Your face fell again and Jessie saw emotions taking over.

"She's healthy, babe. You've done an amazing job of growing and caring for her. That's all you," Jessie told you. She was going to assure you further when your hand came up behind her head and you curled inward to start pushing again, pulling her with you as you grimaced and tried to move your baby down.

This time, your groan evolved into a strained yell.

"Incredible, Y/N. She's right there, I can start to see her. You are doing so great, momma," Theresa said.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at Jessie in wonder as soon as the contraction ended.

"Do you want me to still...," Jessie trailed off, uncertainty taking her as she tried to anticipate what you wanted. You'd talked during birthing classes about her being the one to deliver your baby - with the help of Theresa, of course - but if you needed her to hold you, that's exactly what she'd do.

"Yes, yes," you answered quickly as you shifted slightly, wordlessly indicating for her to move. Jessie carefully moved out from behind you, kissing your shoulder as she went and hurriedly propping up the pillows behind you to better support you. Theresa moved aside slightly, giving Jessie an affirming nod as she positioned herself between your spread legs.

She looked at your entrance, lips still closed and the head not yet visible between pushes.

"Here, make sure she's lubricated," Theresa said as she handed the oil over to Jessie. She took it silently and began to massage your lips and perineum with the oil to help your baby move down and reduce the risk of you tearing.

She was continuing to massage you until you sat forward once more and began pushing. Jessie held your leg and you reached forward gripping her shoulder and leaning on her as you grunted.

Her eyes grew wide as suddenly a small teardrop began to form at your entrance and the first glimpses of your baby together began to appear. A rush of elation and trepidation ran through her.

"S-she has hair," Jessie told you excitedly as she looked up at you. Despite your concentration and effort, you opened your eyes to look at her and a feeble smile crossed your face before you grimaced once more and continued pushing.

"Oh my God. Y/N - you're doing it - you're moving her down. I can see more of her. You're doing so amazing," Jessie praised, tears suddenly pricking at her eyes.

"Oh God," you panted, fingers digging painfully into Jessie's shoulder. "Oh fuck, it hurts, Jess. Oh my God," you said as your lips began to slowly bulge and stretch around the burgeoning head. Jessie gently braced your entrance in support at the instruction of Theresa.

"I know, baby, but you're doing so good," Jessie coached you and you fell back, collapsing against the pillows again during a brief reprieve from the rolling onslaught of contractions. She looked down between your legs to see the baby's head had retracted completely within your tunnel again.

"Jessie," you whimpered in exhaustion and frustration.

"I know, love," she said gently as she kissed your knee and then quickly dabbed your forehead with another cold compress again.

Almost as soon as the last contraction ended, a new one started and you leaned against Jessie's shoulder again as you bore down. She watched as the head reappeared, much quicker this time and soon stretching you wider and anew. She applied more oil to your lips and supported them as they pulled tightly around the head as it crowned.

"Oh it's burns!" You cried as your lips were stretched taut around the large head of your baby.

"You're so close, Y/N," Jessie tried to sooth you. "I can see so much of her."

This time, the head didn't retract as your contraction faded. The progress remained, but that also meant that the head was lodged at your entrance, stuck in a crown and stretching you unbelievably wide. Jessie was absolutely in awe of what your body was doing and achieving right now.

During birth class, many of the partners were squeamish and tentative, but Jessie was curious and attentive. She wanted to know what to expect so she could support you as unwaveringly as possible. She wanted to be ready for this moment so she could be present and be there for you in any way you needed.

And here you were, the woman she loved most in the world, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her days with. The moment was here - you were finally delivering your baby here in your bed, the same one she was conceived in all those months ago.

Jessie massaged your thighs as you groaned in pain, legs quivering.

"I-I can't," you panted as you gave a weak shake of your head.

"You can. You're doing so incredible. You are so, so strong. I know it's hard, but you are almost there, I promise," Jessie told you as she leaned up to give you a kiss on the forehead. Your hand shot up to cup the back of her neck and hold her there. She kissed you again. "I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for bringing our baby into the world. You are the most incredible woman. I love you so, so much."

You grunted, leaning forward and curling into yourself in another push.

To Jessie's shock and amazement, she saw your lips stretching impossibly further, the skin now white and bloodless from the tension.

"It hurts so much," you cried helplessly. "It's burning so bad."

The stretching continued until you released a scream and the head popped out with a rush of fluid. You gasped, body jolting at the momentary reprieve.

"Oh my gosh," Jessie nearly cried, hand out supporting the head of her baby and seeing her for the first time. She reached out and grabbed your hand to bring it down to the head as well. You began whimpering, tears forming in your eyes as you felt her and looked at Jessie. "She's almost here."

"One or two more good pushes and your baby will be here," Theresa said with a smile.

When it was time, Jessie saw a new level of focus cross your face and you began to push. She held her hands out, guiding her baby as a slow yell filtered up your throat as the shoulders began to stretch your entrance out.

"You're almost there," she encouraged, ignoring the way your fingers dug painfully into her shoulder.

The shoulders appeared and with a final push, Jessie caught your baby in her hands, a scream coming from you and a gasp from her.

Suddenly, a new cry filled the room. Jessie's eyes were absolutely transfixed on this small, brand new being, wriggling and crying in her hands.

"Oh my God," she breathed as she stared at her daughter. She was here. Finally here. Something that started off as a wish so many months ago was now entirely real. A permanent, physical manifestation of the love you and her had for one another; a perfect mix of herself and you. 10 fingers, 10 toes, a cute little face and a head of dark wispy hair.

"She's here, baby," she said in awe, belatedly aware of the tears streaming down her face as she very gingerly lifted your daughter and oh so carefully laid her on your chest.

You sobbed as you took her and Jessie cuddled in with you both, eyes still not leaving your little girl.

"Oh my God, she's beautiful," you said as you gently caressed her cheek as her strong cries filled the room. "Riley Fleming - we love you so much."

Jessie felt like her heart could burst as she took in every little detail about your daughter. She gave the easiest smile of her life.

"She's absolutely perfect."

A/N: This is not the conclusion of the series; however we are very close. I have two more chapters for you.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #wlw fiction #birth fiction

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wannaeatramyeon · 3 months ago

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Gun Park x Reader: Feverish Confessions

G/N. 1.8k. You kindly take care of Gun. Soft. Masterlists

You were under the notion that Gun Park could not get ill.

That his antibodies also had ultra instinct and there was no virus strong enough to even consider invading his body.

But alas, you found out he was human when you discovered him unsteady on his feet, pink cheeked and sweat sheened.

"You ok?" You ask, reaching out the back of your hand to feel his forehead.

"Don't touch me," he says without any of his usual bite. That was the first warning sign.

The second one comes when he fails to dodge your grasp and you do make contact with his skin.

"You're burning up."

"I'm not."

"You're ill."

"I'm not."

"You're being a child "

"I am not."

You decide the best course of action is to get Gun home. He's in no fit state to find his own way back and Goo is no help. In fact, no one is any help at all when Gun's energy quickly drains and he struggles to stay upright.

"How fucking heavy are you," you grit out, trying to push his weight off you.

"Fuck you," Gun mutters as Goo whispers something to Kouji and he snorts.

"Poor oppa," Crystal titters, a smirk on her face, watching you both with sharp eyes.

"Fuck you," Gun now directs in her general direction.

"Yeah, fuck you all," you snap in agreement, staggering under the heft of his body.

With a strength and patience you didn't know you possessed, you wrestle him into the passenger seat of your car and drive Gun home at breakneck speed.

He murmurs, delirious fever-induced ramblings, between laboured breaths as you hum in response, keeping your attention on the road.

To your surprise, you catch him speaking your name and each time your eyes flicker to his, you find him staring at you, even if his own eyes appear glazed and unfocused.

Gun repeats your name again, like a question.

"Nearly home," you tell him as a way of comfort and seemingly appeased, he doesn't say anything else.

"All that money and you still live in a junkyard," you comment, holding on to his arm around your shoulder and the other around his waist, slowly ambling towards his shack.

"Shut up."

"I'll shut up when you don't live in a shit hole anymore."

"Shut up."

"Make me," you stop in your tracks and send a cocky grin his way.

Gun, in his weakened condition, only manages to glare back.

"That's what I thought."

"I said shut up."

Gun collapses into bed, or more accurately you try and throw him off you and hope for the best that he lands onto a more comfortable surface.

You take in his sorry state and actually find yourself feeling sympathy for him. All that money and power but when it comes down to it, who is there to look after him when he needs it? It's a lonely existence.

(Not that you're faring any better but you push that thought out of your mind.)

"Don't you dare kick me," you warn, bending to take off his shoes.

"Stop," he moans, barely lucid and you know that if he was any healthier, you would have been booted in the side of the head.

You look at him again and probably against your better judgement, decide your next move.

"I swear I'm not taking advantage of you," you say, holding your hands up to show you mean no harm and making quick work of his clothes - unbuttoning his shirt and his slacks and removing his socks.

Gun doesn't respond and he doesn't fight you. You know this looks questionable. Undressing an unconscious person is never a good sign. Except he's lying there with his flushed cheeks and clammy forehead, fringe flopping down and sticking to his face and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth for him.

Once he's down to his underwear, you tuck him under the covers.

You hum to yourself, feeling for his forehead again. Gun groans under your touch but he's no worse than this morning.

Gun's pantry, despite the threadbare surroundings, is exceptionally well stocked.

You know from your many outings together of his high standards though you didn't expect that he was much of a cook himself. Of course, you should have known that Gun Park doesn't do anything by halves.

After rooting through his cupboards and drawers, you find what you need. You cover a saucepan with rice and adjust water levels according to the length of your finger knuckle, seasoning it with various spices and adding ingredients from his fridge.

What you're doing for him is above and beyond. You've already assured his comfort, cooking him rice porridge is unnecessary, and you can imagine unappreciated-

However, you think of all those times you've been out with Gun and Goo, drank more than your fair share of Soju and Gun is the one who has delivered you safely home; Gun’s cruel taunts when you come back from fights with bruises and cuts and his disparaging comments even as he makes time to train you to be a better fighter; how Gun never snaps at you the same way he does Kouji, or talk to you how he does Crystal, or treat you how he does Goo and-

Well. Maybe he does deserve a little of your kindness.

An hour later, just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon and you’ve had more than your fill of doom scrolling - the rice porridge is ready.

You spoon a small bowl for Gun and set it on his nightstand.

“Who are you?” comes Gun’s croaky voice, hand shooting forward and snatching at your wrist.

“It’s me,” you say, “And be careful you don’t knock this off.”

HIs grip lessens but he doesn’t let go. “Knock what off?”

“I made you food,” you sit down on the bed next to his lying form.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why, look at you!”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, don’t be an asshole.”

Two blinks, then - “Why are you taking care of me?”

“Because!” you huff, feeling your face flush.

“Do you like me?” Gun asks, and the question is so left field you’re reeling. You don’t have a chance to respond or even collect your thoughts before he continues on in his fever haze.

“I caught a fragrance the other day that smells exactly like you. It’s odd that I know this.” He looks towards the ceiling, mind a blur of thoughts.

“When did I start to hoard these facts like a pathetic idiot? I barely know who you are, what you like and what you dislike. And yet I look at you and I can tell exactly what you're thinking."

"Can you do the same to me?" Gun turns to look at you, eyes a dull bronze and you forget to breathe. There’s a startling clarity as his gaze pierces yours.

“Wh-what?” You stammer at his sudden confession, the sight of his natural eyes leaving your sanity further hanging by a thread. Did he just- Did he mean?

“Maybe not.” The clarity fades. Gun closes his eyes and finally lets go. "Only a fool wouldn't be able to tell."

"Oh." Then you add, “Am I a fool?”

"Only a fool would like another fool."

The bowl of rice porridge is left uneaten.

You watch Gun, coughing in his sleep, and message Crystal that you won’t make it into work the next day.

That night, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

Gun’s timeworn sofa digging into your back and his jacket as a make-shift blanket keeping you warm.

It smells like him. Of course it does, it’s his. But you realise you recognise his scent too.

Gun spends the next day floating between half-conscious and sleeping. He no longer has any burst of energy to compose his thoughts or spill his desires.

You check in on him every now and then, pleased when you find his bowl empty and refilling it each time.

You hand searches for his forehead. It never fails to smooth the furrow between his brow as he murmurs your name in his sleep.

It’s sort of funny how those few words changed how you look at this man.

The other day he was a pain in your backside, and you could have sworn you were one in his too.

You’ve lost count of the amount of times you wanted to punch him for his scathing remarks, that arrogant glint in his eyes, that smirk on his face.

Yet now, those feelings don’t really lessen, but you wonder if Gun would keep smirking or would he shut up if you kissed him instead.

Crystal: Assume you’re not coming into work tomorrow?

Y/N: Sorry, Gun still looks bad.

Goo: Gun????????

Goo: You’re shacking up with Gun????

Y/N: What?????

Y/N: No!!!

Y/N: I’m not shacking up with anyone!

Goo: Liar

Kouji: Ok…

Kouji: But

Kouji: You’ve been skipping work to look after hyung?

Y/N: …

Y/N: No?

Y/N: Maybe…

Crystal: Yes you have

Goo: What!!! Nooooooo

Kouji: Pay up, Goo Kim. I was right.

Gun’s fever breaks the day after.

Your hand reaches out to feel his forehead and he opens his eyes, dark as night once more, to look at you.

“You’re still here?”

“I am,” You give him a smile when you feel his temperature back to normal.

He reaches up, large hand and long fingers wrapping around your own, and manoeuvres it down to rest your palm against his cheek.

“You’ve been here all this time?”

His fever has subsided, but the contact makes you feel like you’re on fire, “Yep.”

A hum, then “Good.”

Gun leans into your hold, turning his head, the side of his lips lightly grazing your skin.

“Can you tell what I am thinking?”

You’re rewarded with a smile, small and serene, when you roll your eyes and tell him yes, and that you're both fools after all.

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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bellyyearner · 5 months ago

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Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

Part 2

#violet stories #feedee encouragement #feedism writing #feeding kink #fat belly #feedee story

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moonastro · 7 months ago

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Juno persona chart

fama (408) asteroid in the houses

what is a juno persona chart? looking into juno persona chart gives more detailed insight of how the relationship and marriage overall of you and your spouse will be like. it also describes them in a sense as well. The Greek Goddess Juno is described to rule over love and marriage and hence why the asteroid is looked into for that theme.

the asteroid fama (408) represent how an individual may find success and fame hence the name. in the juno persona chart, the asteroid fama will indicate how the marriage will bring the individual themes of fame in such as attention, success or recognition.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

fama in 1st house: couple may find success and attention from how they express their way, how they approach things and the way that they look ofc. mostly lenient towards the appearance of the couple, depending of the sign of the first house it may play out a bit differently, for example sagittarius may receive attention of how foreign they appear to be together either if its cultural or not.

other things related: arguments, conflict, independence, fast- paced, self-worth, self- made, strength, body, actions, face, facial features, beauty, cars, vehicles, head, scars, battles, defence, scars, burns, opinions.

fama in 2nd house: the couple may get recognition from their generosity to other people. from their voices so for example speaking up about matters going on in the world. may be recognised by the things they own to express their financial value.

other things related: patience, stubbornness, food, cooking, eating, singing, expressive voice, tone of voice, possessions, items owned, shopping, money earned, luxury items.

fama in 3rd house: it may start as a rumour and this placement gets attention from rumours that people make about them, I'm not even kidding this is the placement that is known from others talking about them, true or not.

other things related: communication, internet, social media, high school, high school friends, friends, siblings, neighbourhood, cars, early education, writing, publishing, books, articles, gossip, newsletter, news.

fama in 4th house: couple may get recognition and attention from having a big family. it may not be big but it may also make your family stand out that other people notice. couple may get attention from their heritage and from their homeland, they may also find success if they have a family member who is well known and so the couple may be known from that.

other things related: mother, house, land owned, land received, ancestors, caring nature, being empathetic, emotions, being vulnerable, crying, being upset, having a mental breakdown.

fama in 5th house: couple may get recognition quite easily. may find success in doing hobbies together or hanging out in entertainments events or industries such as dance, music, art, movies and acting.

other things related: laughter, hobbies, kids, romance, s*x life, cheating, flings, partying, clubbing, being wasteful, being dramatic, being loud, talent, stage, public, audience, speech.

fama in 6th house: literally getting noticed from having a busy schedule. others may speculate on maybe the couple having no free time and always on the move. also may get recognised by other people criticising them for example, if in scorpio criticising the couple on how private they are, cancer criticising the couple on how emotionally vulnerable they are and so forth.

other things related: pets, routine, hard work, being critical, being obsessive, being organised, being too strict, labour, ill- health, accidents, bruising, fighting.

fama in 7th house: couple may receive attention from the contracts that they hold, also from their relationship as a couple in general may cause attention. the enemies that the couple may have can give them attention. also the way the couple deal with things can raise awareness.

other things related: law broken, beauty, taste, relationships, enemies, other peoples opinions, other peoples doings, other people being involved, marriage, love, interests, fashion, clothing, make-up, skin care, vlogs.

fama in 8th house: marriage may find success when discussing taboo topics or not being afraid to transform into new versions of themselves whether it be changing habits or changing lifestyles-look at sign for more detail.

other things related: abusiveness, clubbing, spirituality, death, s*xual acts, being obsessive and possessive, tax, money received from other people, money earned, people giving money.

fama in 9th house: the marriage and the couple may get attention by their broad mind lifestyle. this includes all of the themes that may related to religion, spirituality, culture and education. may get attention from their education, like the degrees that they may have, a blog about teaching etc.

other things related: travel, higher education, spirituality, meditation, working on oneself, time of reflection, learning, cultures, languages, expressions, going off from one extreme to the next, in-laws.

fama in 10th house: the couple in the marriage may get recognised from their careers. they may be in a stable, hard working environment or perhaps they spend too much of their time focused on their career. this can also be an indication of the couple working together in the same industry or even having the same job.

other things related: career, money, age, time, public, job, coldness, high rank, being closed off, keeping to oneself, what other people see, rules, strictness, schedule, father.

fama in 11th house: couple may find attention and success in events where there is a gather of people. themes of hosting or even attending may cause the couple to find attention. being unconventional such as kissing in public or things like that can raise attention. not following the norm of society can also give the couple attention.

other things related: groups, social groups, uniqueness, friends, older siblings, internet, social status, recognition, technology, unconventional, breaking rules, not caring, being emotionless, being detached.

fama in 12th house: the couple may get recognition from their ability to be intuitive and empathetic for others. couple may find success in travels, assisting others in their spiritual journey, seeing the beaty in everything. couple may get rewarded for being imaginative and doing the impossible.

other things related: travel, overseas, holiday, hospital, bedroom, sleep, dreams, drugs, alcohol, addiction, mental health, abuse, isolation, being extreme, foreign environments.

this was a short post but its pretty interesting nonetheless but thank you for reading and have a nice dayy.

#juno persona chart #fama #fama asteroid #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #asteroid astrology #astro community #astro placements #astrology #astrology community #kpop astrology

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shhhsecretsideblog · 7 months ago

Note

a fic with both partners in labor?

I had a few requests for No.11 off my prompts list so I’ve tried to group these together into one story. Turns out writing mutual preg / birth is exhausting haha. First time answering a request / prompt, this one ended up a lot longer than I’d expected - 4.9k words. Hope you like :)

Girls Night Out

Leaning against the sink Rachel took a long deep breath and swayed her hips side to side to ease the tightening that was banding across her belly. It was the fourth one she’d felt since they arrived at the bar and they’d not even been here that long. Every wave that crested slowly told her what was coming.

The girls had decided to have a final evening out - dinner at a fancy restaurant followed by drinks at their favourite cocktail bar - the whole gang together one more time before the babies arrived. Rachel and her wife Emily were both pregnant and together they were soon to be the parents of two little baby girls. They’d been happily married for five years before they started looking into having children and Rachel and Emily were both keen to experience pregnancy. When they discovered a new fertility option being offered to same-sex couples they jumped at it. Rather than carrying their own genetic embryo, they each had the other’s fertilised egg implanted; Rachel was pregnant with Emily’s egg, and Emily was pregnant with Rachel’s. Not wanting to do things by half, they went through with the IVF at the same time and against all odds both implantations were a success. So here they were, both classed as ‘full term’ having one nostalgic evening out with their friends before their lives would change forever.

Alone in the empty restroom Rachel allowed herself to groan through the latest contraction. She should have realised sooner that she might be in labour, she was a trained midwife after all and should recognise these things. Clearly her ability to self-diagnose was severely lacking. Whilst Rachel wasn’t a practising midwife anymore, having given it up a few years ago, Emily was adamant she wanted Rachel to be the one to deliver her baby. Rachel was honoured to be bringing both their children into the world, as midwife and as birthing mother. She thought she had retained a decent level of midwifery intuition even after quitting the vocation, but “baby brain” had recently started to affect her. She was convinced Emily was having contractions earlier but her wife said she could barely feel them and were just braxton hicks. Rachel wished she could say the same but the contraction kept on squeezing and tightening her rounded stomach pressing everything downward. The baby’s head sitting heavily in her hips made everything feel so damn low.

A sudden wave of nausea washed over her and Rachel bolted into a cubical. Falling to her knees she vomited the meal they’d just spent an extortionate amount of money for. She grasped her hair with one hand and cupped the swell of her stomach with the other as she retched over the porcelain. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d thrown up in these toilets, but previously she’d been extremely drunk, not to mention a lot younger. It was a very different type of night out. When her stomach had emptied she wiped her mouth and blew her nose and was about to blame poor cooking for her sickness when she noticed a wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs. It was promptly followed by another more aggressive contraction.

Yup, this is definitely labour, no denying it now. She thought to herself, riding out the wave kneeling on the bathroom floor. She quickly discovered that contractions were much stronger after your waters break, now understanding exactly what all her previous patients had gone through. Breathing deeply until it passed, Rachel then managed to stand up and return to the sink. Shit, she definitely looked like a woman in labour now. Sweat had started to gather on her forehead and her cheeks were looking flush and rosey. She’d seen these signs plenty of times before but hoped no one else would catch on as quick. They’d have to end the evening early now. She would need to go back out to the bar, find a way to discreetly tell her wife that the baby was coming, so they could make their excuses and head home and on to the birth centre. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to look a bit more composed, when suddenly the toilet door crashed open.

“Oh my god, Rachel!” Her friend Eve spluttered in a frenzied panic. “You have to come quick. Emily’s water has just broken, she’s in labour!”

You’re kidding, Rachel thought.

“What happened?” She asked, immediately worrying about her wife and following Eve out of the toilets.

“I don’t know. One minute we were giggling over old uni stories and the next, splash. I think Steph’s bag took the worst hit.” Eve couldn’t help the smirk that pulled her lips despite the serious situation.

“Is she having contractions?” Rachel asked, cupping her large swell as she waddled as fast as she could to keep up with Eve down the long corridor.

“If she was, she didn’t say until her water broke. She had been shifting and grimacing a bit, but she said it was just the baby kicking.”

Rachel scoffed, realising now that her intuition had been spot on; Emily had been having contractions. But then why didn’t she say anything!? As if in response, Rachel’s own belly started to cramp. Emily was probably hiding it for the same reason Rachel was - not to ruin the evening.

“Oof- hang on a second Eve…” Rachel said breathlessly, stopping in the corridor and placing a hand against the wall to steady herself. “Mmmmhhhh…”

“What are you-” Eve stopped, turning around, seeing Rachel holding her bump and breathing deeply. “Oh no. No way. Rachel please tell me you’re not in labour too!”

“Hooooo- I didn’t exactly plan this- ooooohh…” Rachel said through controlled breaths.

“This is what you get for getting pregnant at the same time! I said you two were mad.”

“Oh Eve… please don’t start…” Rachel whimpered as the contraction peaked.

Immediately feeling guilty Eve quickly ran over to her friend. “I’m sorry.” She said, rubbing a hand up and down Rachel’s back “You know I don’t mean it. You guys are incredible doing this together.”

“Thanks hun…” Rachel huffed, rocking her hips through the worst of the contraction.

“So, what’s the plan? Do we call you an Uber? An ambulance? Oh my god you’re both having your babies!”

“No! Shhhhh. We are not telling Emily I’m in labour.” Rachel urged.

“What? Why?”

“We can’t tell her. She has a birth plan, she’s been stressing over it for months. It’s bad enough she’s gone into labour here, if she finds out I’m in labour too she will freak out. Which won’t be good for her or the baby right now.”

“But what about you and your baby Rach?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a midwife, I know how childbirth works. I can handle this.” Rachel exhaled a breath and straightened up, the contraction fading back down to just an uncomfortable pressure. “I’m more worried about Em right now.”

“Well…if you’re sure.”

“I am.” Rachel composed herself again, ready to go back out there and support her wife. “How is she doing, how bad are the contractions?”

“I think they’re pretty bad. She can’t even talk through them babes.”

Fuck. That wasn’t a good sign.

~•~•~•~•~

When Rachel and Eve returned to the bar, their friends were still sitting in their booth; Emily in the middle with Steph and Adrienne on either side. At first glance you wouldn’t know anything was wrong, but every couple of seconds people on nearby tables would look over to the group nervously. Emily’s water breaking had clearly attracted a lot of attention.

Emily looked up and saw her wife approaching and the relief in her expression was unmissable. Rachel waddled over to the table but before she arrived she watched the smile disappear from Emily’s lips. Her wife’s face abruptly scrunched up in pain and she grasped her pregnant swell. The music thumped loudly, covering up any sounds she could make, but the force of the contraction was clear by her body language alone.

Steph jumped up when Rachel arrived, allowing Rachel to awkwardly shuffle into the booth next to her wife.

“Hey. It’s okay, I’m here, I'm here. Just breathe Em. Slow, calm breaths. That’s it.” Rachel said, rubbing her upper back supportively.

Emily curled into her wife, as much as their pregnant bellies would allow, and moaned deeply against her neck. “Unhhhhh… Rach.. con-contrac- I- I…”

“Shhh you don’t have to speak. You’re doing great.” Rachel said. “Take it steady, you got this. In and out. We’ll get through this one and then we can talk.”

Rachel put a hand on Emily’s rounded stomach - the entire orb was contracting heavily, it was as solid as a rock. The way Emily moaned and squirmed in her seat, the tension stretching tight across her belly, had Rachel worried. She’d expected Emily to be in early labour, her waters simply breaking early on in the process, but it was quickly looking to be much more advanced than that.

Even with the loud music in the bar, Rachel could feel the deep groaning of her wife’s labour against her chest, the tone becoming low and gravelly. Emily’s thighs were slightly apart on the seat, her contracting belly sitting heavily between them. Another long groan escaped her wife’s lips which ended with an almost grunting sound.

Fuck, she sounds like she’s in transition already. Rachel thought worriedly, holding Emily’s hand and simultaneously rubbing her tight belly.

“Babe, I need to know what’s happening. What do you feel?” Rachel asked hesitantly.

“Mnnnggg- pressure. So much pressure…” Emily whimpered, the contraction beginning to release its grip.

“Okay, it’s gonna be fine. Just breathe, that’s it. Good girl. It’s sounding pretty intense, I think I need to check to see how dilated you are.”

“Oh no… really... Now? Here?” Emily panted.

“Do you think you can move?” Rachel asked.

“Maybe... Not far.”

“I’ll go see if they have a back room or something we can go to.” Adrienne chimed in, before disappearing to speak with the bar staff.

“Oh Rach, this is happening too fast. I don’t want to have my baby here.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Rachel reassured, kissing her forehead. “We’ll see how far you are and then we can decide what we want to do. If we go to the hospital or back home for our planned home birth.” Despite saying this, Rachel knew her own labour meant the latter wasn’t really an option.

Adrienne returned with news that the bar had a function room that wasn’t being used this evening, and they could use it for a bit of privacy. Rachel heaved her own pregnant body out of the booth and then turned to help Emily to do the same. Unfortunately the minute she stood up Rachel felt the beginning pangs of another contraction approaching.

“Adrienne, can you and Steph help take Emily to the b-back room? I don’t think I can support her my-myself.” Rachel gestured to her low-hanging bump and braced a hand on her twinging lower back.

“Of course.” Adrienne replied, putting an arm around Emily. Steph held Emily’s other arm and the three of them made their way to the function room at the back of the bar.

Rachel held it together for as long as Emily remained in eyesight but the second the girls rounded the corner Rachel spun around gripping the table hard to stop her knees from buckling.

“Ooofff- mnnnnghhh-!” She couldn’t stop the noise escaping her throat.

“Oh Rach,” Eve muttered, coming closer, shielding Rachel and her obvious contraction from the people in the bar. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I..I’ll be f-f-fine. Hoooohooo- just a rough- contraction- unghh!” Rachel grunted, ignoring the weight and pressure that was building in her pelvis.

“You sound just as bad as Emily, hun.” Eve warned.

Rachel didn’t need the comparison and glared at her friend.

“I’m just saying! You can’t expect to hide this from her. Even with her own labour going on, she’s going to notice you pushing out your other baby.”

“I know, it’s just… ooohhh- we’re not telling her here, now. I need to find out how far along she is first… hoohoo- she seems pretty far into active labour but I don’t think she knows it. Then we can head to the birth centre and we’ll both check in. Alright?”

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll help you.” Eve replied, the uncertainty clear in her voice.

When the contraction had passed, Eve helped Rachel to the empty function room. Rachel was quick to let go of Eve’s support just before they opened the door making sure not to rouse any suspicion of her own condition.

They found Emily standing in front of a table, hands planted firmly on top, hips aggressively swaying and she was groaning like a cow. Rachel swallowed the anxiety creeping up her throat, all too familiar with this sight. Steph and Adrienne stood awkward and uncomfortable by Emily’s side and immediately vacated the space on the arrival of her wife.

“Hi honey,” Rachel said softly, brushing a fallen lock of hair behind Emily’s ear and rubbing her back. “How are you doing?”

“Oohhhh god- they won’t stop. It… hurts.. the baby feels so low… unghhhh! Rachel help me!” Emily cried out.

“It looks like you're progressing fast. Don’t worry, that’s alright, but I do need to have a look to see how soon our baby is coming.”

Emily nodded, showing her understanding but couldn’t form a reply.

“Are you able to sit on a chair, or are you happy there?” Rachel asked.

“No- unhhh- can’t sit- down…” Emily panted.

“That’s okay, we can do it here. I need you to lean over the table, as far as you can. I’ll lift your dress and remove your undies, okay?”

“That’s- that’s what you said to me- on our first- date.” Emily joked, breathing slightly slower as the contraction ebbed away.

Rachel laughed while Eve rolled her eyes.

Checking someone’s dilation was easy, but getting into a position to do so whilst heavily pregnant was going to be hard. Rachel lifted her wife’s dress so it rested on Emily’s flat back, and then slowly she lowered herself into a squat. A move she very quickly regretted.

The baby in her womb suddenly sank even further towards its exit, the head pressing forcefully and painfully on her rapidly dilating cervix.

“Ooooff- oh god!” Rachel couldn’t stop her reaction to the sudden shift.

“Are you okay?” Steph asked worriedly.

“Nngh! Yes.. I’m f-fine. Just.. got in an uncomfortable position that’s all.” Rachel moved to her knees, playing off her outburst as just regular pregnancy annoyance. Meanwhile Eve raised a singular eyebrow at her, knowing the true reason for her discomfort.

“Ok, let’s see how you’re doing hun.” Rachel said with expert professionalism, ignoring the increased weight that was now forcing apart her hips. Moving the underwear out the way, Rachel quickly checked her wife’s dilation.

“Jesus Christ Em, you’re about eight centimetres dilated!” Rachel exclaimed, removing her hand and heaving herself back to standing. The midwife’s brain immediately whirled into overdrive about the very limited time they had before the baby’s arrival.

“What!?” Emily panted, straightening up and twisting round to see her wife.

“You’ve been in labour all day haven’t you?”

“I… I can’t have… no. They weren’t real contractions.”

“Oh honey, I think they were. I’m so sorry but this baby is coming, and soon.” Rache emphasised, affectionately rubbing the curve of her wife’s pregnant stomach before turning towards their friends. “Someone needs to call an ambulance. We’re not going to make it anywhere before the baby comes.”

“Oh my god.” “Shit.” “Fuck.” came the responses of their best friends.

“No… Rachel, I can’t… I can’t have my baby here.” Emily muttered with a panicked, shaky breath, her eyes widening and welling with tears. “I had a birth plan, we were supposed to be at home. You and me. Not in the b-back of a bar that smells like tequilaaa - oooohhhhh!”

A contraction stole the rest of Emily’s sentence and she braced herself once more against the table. Rachel moved behind her, pressing her expert thumbs deep into the pressure points of Emily’s lower back to help relieve some of her wife’s pain.

“Try and stay calm, Em. I know this isn’t what we planned, but we’ve got this. Babies are born every day and I’ll be right here w-with you… Just breathe through it. In and- ohhhhh- out.” Rachel found her body syncing with her wife’s, plaguing them both with a contraction at the same time. “Will one of you call a damn ambulance.” She gritted to the others, swallowing down the moan in her throat, trying hard to keep her laboured breathing as quiet as possible.

Emily began to tremble, her knees starting to buckle beneath her, her hips bobbing up and down.

“Why d-don’t we get you off y-your feet hun.” Rachel stuttered, trying not to give away her own contraction that was ripping its way through her body. “If you don’t want to sit… mmnnh.. let’s get you on your knees and you can lean against a ch-chair.”

“Nhhh- okay…” Emily whimpered.

Steph pulled over a chair and helped Emily to kneel down and brace against it. With her forearms resting on the seat cushion and her face buried into the crook of her elbow, Emily rocked her hips back and forth, following her body’s instincts to open up for the approaching delivery.

With Emily occupied, Rachel steadied herself by gripping the table in Emily’s vacated space. This contraction was relentless, squeezing and tightening her bump with a worrying amount of force, the pressure of her baby’s head against her cervix forever mounting. Hiding her pained expression, she turned away from the group pressing her face into her shoulder. She couldn’t stop the grunt in her throat as her body worked with the building pressure, bringing the baby lower and lower.

“How are you holding up?” Eve whispered to her.

“Oooooohhh- I think we’re gonna need that ambulance for more than just Emily…” Rachel admitted to her friend while the others were busy looking after her wife.

“Shit… you’re like properly in labour then?”

“Mmh- my waters broke in the toilets… b-before you came to g-get me…”

“Rachel! Why didn’t you say?” Eve scolded in a sharp whisper.

“It’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here before we know it... w-with paramedics and everything they’d need to d-deliver two b-b-babies.”

“OOOHHHHHH RACHEL!” Emily suddenly cried, bringing Eve and Rachel out of their hushed conversation.

Rachel waddled over, her gait widening every minute, towards her kneeling and groaning wife. “Hey darling, you okay? What are you feeling?” She asked, rubbing her back.

“I- I think- oohhhhh fuck… I think I need to push…” Emily mewled, and Rachel’s heart plummeted to her feet.

“Okay… okay… erm… hooo- just hold on a second. I need to check to see if you’re fully-”

“Mnnnnghhhh-pushingggg!” Emily growled, her spine curved as her body pushed whether she wanted to or not.

“Oh my god, what do we do?” Steph asked, crouching next to Emily.

“We’ll err… need towels, oh and a first aid kit.” Rachel instructed, trying to focus on the immediate task at hand and ignoring the near-constant seizing of her own womb.

“I’m on it.” Adrienne disappeared out the room.

“Listen to me Em,” Rachel said softly but firmly, “if your body’s telling you to push, you can push, but only with the contractions. Okay.”

“Rachel, are you seriously going to-” Eve tried to say before Rachel interrupted.

“The ambulance isn’t going to make it, Eve. She’s pushing already. I’m going to have to deliver the baby after all.”

“But you’re-”

“I’ll be fine. Emily needs me right now.” Rachel said with confidence she didn’t have. Please wait a little bit longer, she pleaded to the child in her womb. I know you want to meet your other mum and sister, but just hold on.

Emily grunted and lowed, bearing down hard. Rachel awkwardly got down on her knees behind her labouring wife. Her own belly hung so low on her hips, her baby’s head so deep in her birth canal, that her thighs were forced apart when she sat back on her heels.

“You’re doing brilliant Em, push with the contractions. Are you happy here or did you want to move?”

“Ooffhhhhhhh-want-to-move-hhhfff! Need-to-sit-mnnnghhh-down!”

“That’s fine, we can move you. When this contraction is over, we’ll get you in a different position. Steph, can y-you help h-h-her?”

Rachel subtly circled her hips that were being stretched further and further apart with every passing second. There was so much pressure she could cry. But she had to focus on Emily right now.

Adrienne came back with towels and a small first aid kit from the bar staff, while Steph helped Emily move to sit up on the chair.

“Ohhhhhh I can’t believe I’m having our baby here! Mnnnhhhh” Emily cried, cradling her bump, legs wide apart over the sides of the seat.

“I know honey. It’s not the best location, no, but it’s okay. The ambulance is on its way, and I can deliver our baby just like we p-planned. We can do this. You can do this.” Rachel gave Emily’s leg a light comforting squeeze of encouragement. Kneeling at her wife’s feet, Rachel unwrapped the towel and first aid kit and prepared herself to deliver their baby.

“Hoooo-hoooo… we can do this, we can do this...” Emily repeated, trying to keep herself calm.

“Okay, now on the next con-contraction… ohhhh… on the next contraction I need you to… to…. mmmnnnghhh” Rachel was cut off by a sudden fierce contraction of her own. It was too much; the baby was too low, the pressure too strong - stealing the words from her mouth and distracting her focus. Forced to brace her knees and lift her hips, Rachel emitted a long and deep groan. Her body was crying out for something… she needed to do - something… she needed to… needed to… push. Rachel panted heavily, fighting the urge. This baby had to wait, it just had to. She needed to help Emily deliver, there was no one else that could.

“Rachel!?” Emily cried, “What’s wrong- are you… oh my god are you in labour!!??”

Eve knelt down next to her friend “Breathe Rachel, just breathe through it. That’s it. Are you still okay to do this?”

Rachel couldn’t respond but nodded her head, letting out a long and shaky exhale.

“You can’t be in labour too - who’s going to deliver my baby?” The white’s around Emily’s eyes gave away her sheer panic as she panted heavily and rocked in the chair.

“I- I will…” Rachel breathed, the peak of the contraction finally releasing its hold and with it the pressure eased just enough for her to get a hold of herself. “It’s fine darling. Yes, I am in labour, but… hooooo- the contractions are far enough apart… I c-can still help deliver your baby…”

“Rach!” Eve cautioned, then lowered her tone so only Rachel could hear “Your contractions are no further apart than hers and you know it.”

“We don’t have much of a choice.” Rachel gritted out quietly. “The ambulance isn’t going to make it in time-”

Their conversation was interrupted again by the animalistic sound of Emily pushing. “MNNGGHHH - baby- coming- outttttt-!”

Instinctively Rachel shuffled closer to her wife, widening Emily’s legs further apart and lifting her dress to see her progress.

“That’s it Emily. That was a really good push. Good girl. And again, push.” Rachel encouraged, seeing the sliver of their baby start to appear.

“Can I keep going?” Emily panted, slouched in the chair and gripping her thighs tight.

“If you’ve still got a contraction - yes. Keep going! Push!”

“Push Emily!” Their friends encouraged. “Push! Push!!”

While her wife brought one of their baby girls closer to the world, another contraction struck Rachel like blaze of lightning. Every muscle in her body was squeezing the baby down down down, its head was right there, her body screaming at her to aid its effort in birthing the baby. Hearing the constant yells to ‘push’ from their friends, the grunting sounds of her wife, the visual in front of her of a baby slowly crowning - it all activated a primal instinct that she just couldn’t control. As hard as she tried, Rachel simply couldn’t stop herself from pushing.

Thankfully no one noticed, all the focus was on Emily. No one noticed Rachel’s thighs widening apart, or the subtle lifting of her hips. Whenever her wife pushed, Rachel did too. The couple were perfectly in sync, together bringing their children into the world. Rachel’s mouth was clamped shut with the strain, muffling any involuntary sounds she might have made. Thankfully the music from the bar and Emily’s screaming was loud enough anyway to hide any audible evidence of her own advancing birth.

Her wife pushed again and even more of the head came forward - it was fast approaching a full crown. Despite her own body contracting and pushing, Rachel reacted quickly cupping a hand over the emerging head between Emily’s legs.

“T-t-take it e-easy now Emily- hoooo- pant if you can… breathe the b-baby d-down-nnghhh!” Rachel strained out instructions to her wife, trying not to push while she spoke.

“Hooohooo-hooohooo” Emily panted, tears running down her cheeks with the pain of her stretching.

“Amazing… hoooo…. Oh darling you’re doing b-brilliantly. Her head’s coming… so close…nearly there… Keep p-panting.” Rachel supported the emerging head as it inched further and further; the eyes, the nose, the ears, all slipping into this world and then with a pop the head was fully born into Rachel’s hand.

Emily released a cry of relief.

Then, with the timing of a soap opera, Rachel was wracked with another angry contraction and this one meant business. There was no fighting it, no holding back - her baby wanted to be born. With her hands still supporting Emily’s babe Rachel took a deep breath, her knees widening and hips sinking, and she pushed. Hard.

“…Rach?” Eve’s voice sounded so far away. Rachel was only aware of the baby in her hands and the baby between her legs. Nothing else registered to her.

She could feel herself being stretched, the head slowly peeking out into her underwear. No! You have to wait, she pleaded with her baby but her body had other ideas. Thankfully the contraction soon peaked, the urgency fading, allowing her to think clearly again. But her baby was close, dangerously so.

“Hoooo-ooooh- okay. Well done Emily. You’ve done the w-worst bit.” Rachel's heavy breaths were undeniable, trying to make it through the pain of her baby trying to crown, but she persevered - she needed to help her wife deliver this baby. “Next- step, oooh that’s it, the baby’s turning. Ok, you’re ready to deliver the shoulders now hun. On the next contraction you need to give me a big push… okay?”

Emily was sweating, her makeup smudged and her cheeks flushed. She nodded, took a deep breath and beared down. “MNNNNGGGHHHH!!!!!!”

“Keep going- keep going!” Rachel encouraged.

Emily released the push with a sob. “I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“Yes, you c-can.” Rachel said, gritting her teeth as she felt another contraction rising.

“I can’t…. It hurts… I don’t want to have my baby h-here… I want to be at h-home…”

Rachel’s own contraction was burning through her very soul. Her body was pushing without her active participation, the baby stretching her more and more every passing second. She tried to hold on, not to push, but her hips were starting to tremble and her underwear beginning to bulge. Her baby wanted out, and it wanted out now.

“You have to p-pushh Emily… hoooohooo I-I-I need- y-you to p-p-push…” Rachel’s teeth were grinding, she could barely get the words out.

“I c-can’t.” She sobbed, trembling.

“Emily… please…” Rachel pleaded with a whimper. “You-have-to…p-p-push!!! MNNNGGGHH!” Rachel cried as her body pushed despite herself, her baby reaching a full crown and beyond into her clothing.

Emily watched Rachel grunt and strain on the floor in front of her; she was pushing! And all the while her incredible wife was still carefully holding the head of Emily’s half-born baby in between her thighs. Filled with determination, Emily took a deep breath and pushed with everything that she had.

One shoulder, then then next, and a second later Rachel and Emily’s first born daughter entered the world. Rachel lifted the squalling infant and hastily placed her into Emily’s chest. The next one was coming, and it was coming now!

Rachel got up on her knees and frantically scrambled to pull down her trousers. Their friends looked on, confused and panicked. When her hips were free from the confines of her clothing, Rachel put a trembling hand between her legs and felt the significant dome of her baby’s fully crowned head.

“Oh my god Rachel!” Emily gasped.

The midwife was not capable of speech, instead letting out an urgent primal sound as she immediately birthed the head directly into her hand. With the head delivered, Rachel could breathe again, could think again.

“Hooo-hooo… so…Emily… are you ready to m-meet your other d-daughter?” Rachel breathed, smiling at her wife and newborn daughter, cupping the head of its sibling.

“You are… beyond incredible.” Emily smiled in awe of her beautiful wife. “Yes, let’s complete our family.”

And with that Rachel pushed on the next contraction, catching in her hands their second baby girl. Born 3 minutes after her sister.

#prompts answered #birth fic #birth kink #public birth #clothing birth #inconvenient birth #birth denial #panty birth #birth fiction #birth prompts #mutual birth #mutual preg #my writing

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starryylies · 13 days ago

Note

hello hello! I wanted to ask..if maybe you could write anything smutty for Mr Silvair from homicipher with f!reader? (there’s barely any fics of him🥲🧍‍♀️)

medical test with Mr Silvair

Hello and yess! I agree Mr silvair doesn’t have many fics on him

It’s my first time writing for homicipher so I hope you enjoy 🩷

It started out innocent, Mr silvair just wanted to study the human body and how it reacts to different stimuli.

You didn’t know you’d end up in this position though.

He started off pinching your cheeks,

“It hurt?” He asks

You smile gently and say “no”,

He takes your smile as a sign that says he can continue.

His long fingers slowly go towards your neck,

You start giggling as his fingers pinch your neck, it’s ticklish!

Mr silvair is confused, “Why laughing? What funny?” He asks tilting his head

You giggle and tell him that, “nothing’s funny, my neck is just ticklish”

He looks at you confused but continues.

His long fingers now trail down your collarbone and reach your soft tits, your nipples hardened because his touch.

His fingers pinch your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, making you squirm and clench your thighs.

Mr silvair looks concerned as if it’s hurting you.

He quickly retracts his hand and asks if “I hurting you?, I stop.”

You give him an awkward smile and tell him he didn’t hurt you, unable to form words to explain what happened you just say- “some touch feel good, so they make body react”

Mr silvair looks at you and asks “What else makes you feel good?”

You just turn your head, embarrassed and say “it’s inappropriate Mr silvair let’s just finish the test”

But Mr silvair doesn’t take no for an answer though and he continues bugging you, asking where that ‘special’ place is

You give in and lift your skirt up, your thin panties are stained by how wet you are.

Mr silvair looks intently and asks- “this place makes feel good?”

You nod your head shyly.

He is quick to take his fingers to your panties,

Pinching the soft nub through the thin fabric.

A small moan leaves your mouth, making Mr silvair look at you amused because of your obvious reaction.

His thin lips curve upwards forming a perverted smile.

He continues pinching your nub, fascinated how the thin fabric manages to wets itself.

He feels his member harden as he hears the soft moans and words of encouragement leave your mouth.

He stands up purely out of desperation and instinct and takes his member out from his black coloured pants.

Rubbing his cock’s head on your clothed cunt.

You gasp as you feel the new sensation of his cock.

It’s long, girthy and has an assortment of veins decorating it. His pubic hair looks trimmed.

Mr silvair catches you staring at his cock,

“You like?” he asks in a teasing manner.

You give out a moan that answers his question.

His breathing becomes rapid as he humps your clothed cunt with his cock, you can feel yourself tingling all over.

A sign that you’re about to cum.

His laboured breaths and your sweet moans fill the room.

He humps you savagely, his upper body faltering and landing on the examination bed, his head on your chest and arms gripping the corners of the bed.

He’s a blabbering mess, Whimpering while he says “feel nice, warm. Im close im close”

He lets out a large animalistic grunt as his cock pushes against your wet panties one last time, cold jelly like liquid falling on your thighs.

He takes 5 minutes before he gets up, getting a tissue paper to clean your legs because “it’s dirty”.

After he’s done he gives you a sharp smile and tells you to “come tomorrow, no wear panty”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ �� ☽ * ₊ ⋆* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆ ੈ✩

Header credits to- @anitalenia

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adragonprinceswhore · 4 months ago

Text

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VIII: Rumours 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after your show in Oldtown, things seem different. How will you and Aemond navigate this new normality?

Warnings: 18+, self-destructive thoughts, mentions of rehab, therapy and anger management, allusions to smut

Word count: 4500

A/N: What a journey! Thank you so much to everyone that has followed this story, both for the first and second time.

Three months later.

The tour went on for over two months, finishing with a sold-out show back home in King’s Landing. Thanks to management bringing in some highly skilled people to work on finalising the songs on Rumours, the event doubled as the release day of your second album.

You sold twice as many records in the first three days as your first album did since its release last year.

Though you’re certain that some of the attention your album’s received is due to the dramatic end of your marriage to Aemond, you’re convinced that fans wouldn’t be buying it if they didn’t enjoy the music. The reviews from major music outlets were raving about the emotional depth throughout the album, another indicator that gossip wasn’t the only selling point of your heartbreaking labour.

Now, with the holidays closing in, your label has asked you to create some type of extra material to put on a limited edition version of Rumours.

The members of Dragon Dreamers agreed that adding a bonus track would be the best feature, and decided to meet in the studio to record it in one go; a straight-forward and quick procedure fitting your time restraint.

You’ve been playing around with a few ideas for new songs, but nothing substantial that feels ready just yet. Lucky for you, Helaena posted in your group chat that she’s been working on a song you could use.

You’d listened to the demo she shared and the song truly has great potential, being somewhat fast-paced with Helaenas dreamy vocals adding that mellow feel to it only she seems capable of.

Reaching the studio, you step out of the taxi and thank the driver over your shoulder, pulling the thick, wool fabric of your coat tighter around your trembling body.

It’s only the last week of November, but winter seems to have come early this year. You hurry to get into the building where the studio is, shaking fingers fidgeting with the key in your cold, inflexible hand, too stiff to obey you and get the thin piece of brass into the keyhole.

“Allow me”, echoes a voice behind you, and the corners of your lips pull up at the familiar, gentle tone.

“It’s fucking freezing”, you say light-heartedly and move away from the lock to make space for Aemond, who steps forward, key already in hand.

He unlocks the door swiftly, giving you a pointed look while pushing the heavy door open with one hand. It’s his idea of banter; meeting your eyes with that cheeky glint dancing in his eyes, amusement hiding in his lips where the faintest promise of a smile forms.

“Thank you”

You walk past him into the hallway leading to the studio and he follows behind you, mumbling a quiet,

“Anytime”

After the show in Oldtown, your and Aemond’s relationship has improved immensely. Agreeing that whatever happens, the band comes first, proves to be a good way for the both of you to stay on track.

Being on the road and performing several times a week is draining, stressful, and overall rough. But in the strain, it’s provided you with some peace of mind, forced to put all your focus on work instead of dwelling on the past.

On everything that’s happened between the two of you.

Besides, Aemond’s put in effort to be civil as well, even bordering on being friendly at times, asking you if you’d like anything from the coffee shop before he went to grab an espresso. A clear sign of trying that you appreciate, no matter how small.

Besides, it’s not like he even needs to ask. He knows perfectly well what you like.

But this feels better; feigning ignorance.

Not still acting like a married couple.

Perhaps his change was not entirely due to what occurred in Oldtown. Helaena had let it slip one day over lunch that he’d started seeing a therapist, while also attending an anger management program online.

You’re happy for him, truly.

It shows on his demeanour that he’s doing better; that he knows how to handle situations better. He seems more in tune with his inner self as well, more in control of it. You’re glad to see him improving, and yet there’s a small part of you that still mourns the broken bond between the two of you.

That part feels resentful, annoyed with the fact that he couldn’t have done this before your divorce.

Then you might still be together.

Helaena’s singing voice grows louder as you move closer to the door of the studio, pushing it open with your stiff, cold hands.

Jace and Erryk are already seated, listening intently to Helaena’s instructions as she explains how they’re going to record the song. You and Aemond slip in, eyes trained on her, and she offers you a nod in greeting, continuing to discuss her vision of the song,

“The build up has to be captivating! It speeds up towards the outro at the end, which is like the highlight of the song”, she says, hands coming up to put emphasis on her words,

“That’s what you’d envisioned, right Aemond?”

Her head turns to meet the gaze of her younger brother, waiting for a sign of agreement. He only hums in reply and nods at her, prompting her to continue.

Has Aemond written this song?

You think back to the demo Helaena sent of her singing and playing piano.

Isn’t this a love song?

“Finally wrote a song for your girlfriend then?”, Erryk teases as he lowers himself to take a seat behind the drum set.

A wave of nausea crashes over you without warning. You feel your heart race in your chest, like it’s fighting to get out, and a sickening panic spreads within you. Your hands, that’d just felt so cold and stiff, now feel clammy and tingling with unease.

You knew this day would come.

The day Aemond writes a song for Alys.

You’d mentally prepared for it; convinced yourself that whenever this day came, you’d be okay. It wouldn’t hurt that much, you already know that he’s moved on.

But Erryk’s question leaves you disoriented, almost dizzy, and you hear the furious beat of your heart in your ears.

Now you have to live with your decision to leave him all those months ago. Allow him to move on and watch him from the sidelines as his colleague.

Sing along to the declaration of love he’s written for his new lover?

“Hel and I have been working on this song since last spring”, he dismissively replies, throwing Erryk a look that feels cold, yet his tone stays neutral.

Since last spring?

You still feel the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest, but with a few deep breaths, you manage to pull yourself together.

Just get through this afternoon, then you can go home and dwell in self-pity without spectators.

The band starts to play, Helaena singing as her fingers dance over the keys of the piano,

‘Sweet, wonderful you’

‘You make me happy with the things you do’

‘Oh, can it be so?’

‘This feeling follows me wherever I go’

Aside from the demo Helaena sent you a few days ago, you’ve never heard this song before. If Aemond’s been working on it since last spring, does that mean he’s kept it a secret from you?

Maybe he played a rough edit to you before your separation?

Maybe he and Helaena had reworked it beyond recognition?

‘I never did believe in miracles’

‘But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try’

‘I never did believe in the ways of magic’

‘But I’m beginning to wonder why’

He’s not usually the type to write love songs. His solo song on your first album, titled ‘I’m so Afraid’, can be described as anything but romantic.

‘Don’t break the spell’

‘It would be different and you know it will’

But this? Is it the love he receives from Alys that has prompted him to write such an exposing song; causing him to believe in miracles and magic?

Does she make him feel safe?

Safer than before?

‘You make loving fun’

‘And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one’

You try to keep your voice stable as you sing along, backing up Helaena’s delicate tone.

It hurts, hearing how much he doesn’t miss you; how happy he is with her.

The one that makes loving fun.

When you were married, all you seemed capable of was making him miserable.

Loving you wasn’t fun.

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

Some hours go by.

You record a few different versions of the song; playing around with various sounds.

Every time you sing the words, they stab your heart like a knife,

‘You make loving fun’

You try to act normal. You try so hard that you can taste copper on your tongue. Thankfully, no one seems to see through your facade.

Just breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds.

You know that it won’t hurt this much forever.

One day, you’ll wake up and your lungs won’t ache when you inhale deeply. Your eyes won’t burn from the force in which you're trying to prevent tears from falling.

Time heals all wounds.

But yours are still fresh. Leaking and aching.

All you want to do is go home, throw yourself in bed and cry.

You crave release, whether it comes from sorrow-induced dehydration, calling Alysanne just to yell out your frustrations, or screaming into a pillow.

When Helaena finally wraps up the recording session, asking you to come back tomorrow after she’s listened through a few of the takes, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the door.

Just need to get out.

Away.

You call out a rushed farewell over your shoulder as you make your way down the corridor of the building, hand coming up to the door handle to step out into the cold November night.

You brace yourself, ready for the chill air to hit your cheeks as you pull the door open. But before you’re able to leave, a large hand gently grabs your shoulder, keeping you in place,

“Wait”

Aemond’s voice is low behind you.

You inhale a deep, shaky breath before you turn around to face him.

“Yes, Aemond?”

Your voice is purposefully flat, and you’re doing your absolute best to not let the hurt you feel reflect on your tone.

“I wanted to talk to you”, he begins, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He’s apprehensive in a way that makes his voice sound foreign, like he’s not himself.

“Did you like it? The song?”

Your gaze flickers down at his question, a reflex-like response so you don’t roll your eyes at him. He sure makes it difficult to be the bigger person.

Set on tormenting you.

“Yes”

You bite out the reply, laced with innate irritation you can’t conceal.

Yes, it’s a good song, you can’t deny that. But seeking you out to have you admit that the song he wrote for his new partner is good Is a new low.

And to think you thought he’d finally changed for the better.

Aemond’s good eye roams your face, seemingly searching for something. An answer hidden in your features.

He licks his lips again, as if he’s looking for what to say,

“You do, you know”

His eye still flickering around without meeting yours, and his restless demeanour makes you nervous too.

“I do what?”, you ask, irritation now clear in your curt tone.

“Make loving fun”, he answers.

The shock of his sudden confession renders you speechless, and Aemond takes the opportunity to pull you out of the building and into the dark night.

The heavy door to the studio closes with a loud thud, and left are you and Aemond, alone in the freezing, dark November night.

“I wanted to surprise you with the song on our wedding anniversary in June, but obviously..”, his voice dies out.

Still lost for words, you’re sure you look ridiculous, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Aemond carefully takes in your reaction and takes a deep breath himself,

“I’ve thought about our relationship recently. A lot”, he says, eyes flickering down to your trembling hands.

Are they shaking from the cold?

He takes your hands in his warm grip, encapsulating their entirety,

“I didn’t treat you right-”

“I, I just-, I loved you so fucking much, I-, I didn’t know how to handle loving you so fiercely. I still do”

He has that sad look in his eye that you’ve grown familiar with; the sorrow that he’s made a habit of keeping from you.

Now, it’s on full display as he offers you himself again,

“Please take me back”, he quietly begs, body moving forward, face coming down so he can rest his cheek on your head, hands still holding yours tightly.

You feel lost for words, stiffly staying in place as you hear Aemond inhale deeply through his nose buried in your hair.

“Aemond”, you sigh, tone thick and unsteady,

“I thought we’d agreed to move forward as bandmates”

“I’ve missed you so much”, he mumbles in reply, unmoving as he rests his head on yours.

“You’re with Alys now”, you breathe out, disbelief making it hard for you to sort out your thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her since Winterfell”, he replies.

“Aem-”, you try to oppose but he cuts you off,

“I’m sorry for ruining everything. I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. I’m sorry for being selfish”, he confesses quietly, whispering his sins into your hair.

Aemond moves to let go of your hands, and instead brings his arms around your shoulders to hug you.

His voice is still low, mouth right next to your ear,

“I took your love for granted. I couldn’t imagine a world where we weren’t together”, he admits and presses your body against his,

“And now I regret how I treated you every day. I know my actions are inexcusable, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need-”, his voice breaks,

“I need you”

Being in his embrace, so full of the love you’ve been missing for months, causes your lids to feel heavy, and you close your eyes and rest your cheek against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He still smells the same.

The most comforting, warming scent in the world.

It would be so easy to take him back.

It is so tempting.

You gently pull away to look up at him, eyes locking with his,

“Aemond, you know you weren’t happy being with me”

“I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to be better”, he says quietly. His eyes are glassy when he adds,

“For you”

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“That’s great, Aemond, and I’m so proud of you”,

“But I don’t think getting back together would be good for either of us”, you conclude, gaze carefully gauging his expression, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

The inevitable fire.

His eyes narrow, face setting in harsh displeasure.

You notice the corners of his mouth twitch downwards as he stares at you in silence, nostrils flaring with each breath.

His warmth disappears as he steps away from you.

He quickly shifts to the side to avoid your eyes, and leaves without another word.

You do all three things when you get home.

You cry, you scream into a pillow, and you call Alysanne to yell out your frustrations.

Nothing helps.

Why did he have to do this now?

Why couldn’t he have done this when you were still together?

The wound of your marriage opens up again, sending icy waves of pain through your body.

This was supposed to be the part when things got better; when time had healed the wounds.

And yet, you’re still hurting just as much.

A gash that refuses to stop bleeding.

In the depths of your despair, you see your phone light up with a notification through the veil of tears obstructing your vision.

You bring one of your hands up to half-heartedly wipe away the tears that spill out as the other grabs the phone to see who’s texted.

Aemond: “I’m sorry for earlier tonight. If you want to remain friends, I would appreciate that”

For the second time tonight, his unpredictability astonishes you.

Where’s the anger?

You’re unmoving, hand holding your phone in a cramp-like grip as it lights up again.

Aemond: “It’ll be entirely on your conditions”

You inhale, closing your eyes as you ponder your reply.

Exhaling slowly, you open your eyes again to type out your answer.

You: “Okay”

Like most things, though it seemed absurd in the beginning, being friends with Aemond has become a normality.

It started slowly, not going further than the two of you chatting during band practice.

Then, you started going out to grab coffee together, airly discussing the band, upcoming shows, and what music you’d been listening to recently.

As weeks pass by, your newfound familiarity blooms into a friendship.

You start taking more liberties around each other, without constantly being on edge.

Things like Aemond asks you if you’d like to go see a film by an up-and-coming director, you asking him if he’d like to grab food on the way home from the studio together.

Your marriage, as tumultuous and heartbreaking as it had been, seems a distant memory now. The ashes from what once was have provided soil for the two of you to build a new, healthy friendship on. You feel thankful for that.

Thankful to still have Aemond in your life.

Being friends suits him.

He’s opened up far more in these past few weeks to you than he had during the entirety of your futile relationship.

He acredits it to the therapy and anger management he’d done, but you sense a real shift within him.

He tells you about Alys; how he met her and how they developed a kind of friends with benefits dynamic as he longed for intimacy and she became his manager.

Though you can vividly remember him calling her his ‘girlfriend’, he apparently hadn’t made that clear with her, and when he asked her to come on tour with him, a childish attempt at making you jealous, you presume, she’d patted him on the cheek and explained that though he’d been a fun fuck, she didn’t have time for a partner.

He says that in retrospect, her not having any romantic feelings for him must’ve been a blessing, since he was only using her for selfish fulfilment himself.

He tells you about Aegon; how they hadn’t spoken all summer, until Aemond reached out to properly apologise, a crucial part of the anger management program.

Aegon, inspired by Aemond’s dedication to sort out his inner demons, had decided on a fourth trip to rehab. By now, he’s stayed sober for longer than ever before.

Aemond says that he’s made a habit of bringing his brother out hiking, trekking the vast landscape of the Reach.

Sometimes during those long walks, they’d talk over each other, engaging in passionate discussion about everything and anything. Other times, they walk in comfortable silence, simply existing together.

It’s nice seeing your ex husband so content.

The bitterness you first felt at his dilatory introspection has been replaced by admiration; impressed by his dedication to be better.

Somewhere inside, the wound of the past bleeds less and less.

Perhaps this is how you were always meant to be?

Friends.

The realisation is bitter, but you’ve grown used to the taste on your tongue.

You made the right decision.

It’s almost midwinter when Aemond asks you to come over to your old flat one Sunday morning.

Apparently he’s in the process of subletting the place, and needs help removing any personal belongings.

It’s strange being back, already foreign and distant, yet still so familiar.

“I’ve put some of your stuff in the guest bedroom”

Aemond gestures for you to follow him as you step inside.

Like you don’t know where it is.

You follow him, watching as he opens the wardrobe, stepping to the side to invite you in.

True to his perfectionist nature, your things are neatly organised, hanging in tidy rows.

Some of your clothes, two coats, a vase you’d gotten from Alicent on your birthday, a jewellery box. Mostly gifts you received from Aemond, too painful for you to bring with you when you left all those months ago.

Maybe now you’re finally ready to look at the relics of your broken marriage with fondness, reminiscent of the love you once shared.

As you inspect the wardrobe, you notice an old box tucked in one corner, edges worn down and structure almost caving in.

You pick it up and open the lid, surprised to find the picture collage you’d made for him on your six month anniversary inside, along with a few other memorabilia from your relationship.

Two tickets to the cinema, a pub receipt, an ugly doodle of Aemond you drew as a joke.

“What’s this?”, you ask as your hands rummage through the content of the box.

Aemond looks up from the moving box he’d been hunched in front of, eyes going wide when he sees what’s in your hand.

“You can just put that back”, he quickly replies, face growing a bit pink.

“I can just move this to the trash as well”, you say and shift towards the big, black bin bag in the corner.

“That’s alright. I-, I want to keep it”, he mumbles quietly and stands up, towering over you as he takes the box from your hands.

Your eyes dart from the frame with the pictures you’d made for him to his face, not quite sure why he wants to keep such trivial things.

“I want to keep the memories”

He puts the lid back on the box, bends down to place it on the floor, and pushes it towards the back of the closet using his foot.

There’s something in the air that causes the mood to shift. It’s like a thick fog has settled over the room, sticking in your lungs whenever you breathe.

“The good old days”, you joke stiffly, trying to chase the uncomfortable tension away.

Aemond’s standing with his back against you, facing the closet. He hums in reply at your attempted humour.

“Everything was so easy back then”, you sigh, moving to grab one of the coats hanging next to where he stands.

He’s stiff as he turns to you, watching as you carefully examine the coat, pondering whether you should keep it or not.

“I-”, Aemond starts before he stops himself, appearing to be lost in thought,

“I’d try every day to make it easy for you. To love me, I mean”

Your head snaps to the side. His confession hits you with such force, it’s almost physical, and now it’s your turn to be lost for words.

“Oh, Aemond”, you choke out as you take in the sad frown his face is set in,

“It was never hard loving you. It was hard being loved by you”

“I know”

One of his hands moves carefully towards you. When you don’t back away from him, he takes the opportunity to place it on your cheek.

You can feel the way his hand trembles against your skin despite how gentle his touch is.

“I can’t promise that it’ll always be easy. But I still love you as much as I did back then. I know I shouldn’t but I need to-” he licks his lips as he’s searching for the right words,

“I need to ask you again. Will you take me back?”

His stare is intense as he carefully evaluates your reaction. You still can’t find your voice, stuck in your throat in shock.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I don’t want anyone-, anything else. I’ll do anything for you. Please take me back”, he begs, voice cracking at the end of his plea.

The hand he’s placed on your cheek feels like it’s burning an imprint onto your skin.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

So open; heart on display, laid out in the hand he’s now offering you.

It’s all yours.

He hurt you so much during your time together.

He made life so hard for you.

He made you feel alive.

Would it be worth it; possibly being hurt again?

Feeling alive again.

You bring your hand up to his cheek, mirroring how he’s cradling your face.

Alive.

Aemond’s POV

When she tilts her head up, leans forward and pulls his face closer to hers, he almost lets out a relieved cry.

Kissing her again feels like coming up for air after being underwater for too long.

It’s so relieving it hurts.

Even when he has to leave her lips to breathe, he presses his face against hers, desperate for the contact.

He can’t be apart from her warmth for even a second longer.

Her arms meet around his neck, keeping him close as her breath heats up the skin of his face.

He’s robbed himself of this for months. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for that. for allowing her to slip away.

He searches for her mouth again, kissing her as if she could breathe life into his lungs and revive his numb heart.

His hands can’t decide if they want to touch every part of her being, or hold her so close they melt into one.

She presses herself against him, kissing him back with just as much vigour.

The thought that she’s missed him makes him want to weep.

“I love you”, he says between pants as he moves his lips from hers, trailing down to kiss her neck.

Her hands grab the back of his shirt and she lets out a moan when his lips find the patch right beneath her ear she loves so much.

She pulls him downwards, onto the floor, and offers him a giggle as she straddles him.

Her fingers come down to help him unbutton his trousers, just as eager for him as he is for her.

He feels tears burn behind his eyelids again.

Finally.

He can hardly contain himself as his fingers clumsily search for the buttons of his jeans to aid her in getting them off. He is so impatient, so eager for her, that his hands shake from desire.

His soul is finally soothed when she sinks down on him.

He’s consumed by her.

When she begins to move, the grip of her cunt around him indicates that this won’t last long. But that’s alright. It won’t be the last time.

He surges forward to kiss her again, to let her know how grateful he is.

That she came back to him.

That she’s offered him her warmth once again.

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for reading! ❤️

A very special thank you(!) to Justine @theoneeyedprince who've helped me by beta-ing this fic. You are truly a gem, so wonderfully supportive of me and I appreciate you so, so very much. Besides being an absolute legend of a friend, Justine's also an immensely talented writer. If you're eager to read more modern heartbreak, check out her story Careless Whisper - it's so good! ❤️

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagines #modern aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #rumours

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tbgblr2 · 2 months ago

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Mickey and Skye - Trapped!

This one could have possibly taken 9 months to write, thanks to stops/starts, holidays getting the way, writers block and all sorts, but we got there in the end. Special thanks once again to @allkindsofpreg for the help in writing this. Enjoy!

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Mickey and Skye were flustered, there’s no two ways about it. How they got into this predicament is a bit of a tale in itself. First we should delve into a bit of their history.

The two of them met at an apprenticeship intake for a local IT company. It was definitely an entry level data job but it helped give them a bit of spending money whilst they lived with their parents. At the age of 20 and 21 they suffered an unfortunate ‘oops’ moment as the condom broke and Skye found herself sporting her sizeable bump several months later. Their parents helped and in truth life was looking good for the young couple. They even got married, Skye wearing a dress which clung to her gravid belly, leaving no one in the congregation guessing about the nature of their marriage. However, they were young, in love, and things were working out.

As is the natural sequence of things Skye began to feel contractions around 10pm the night previous. After labouring at home for several hours, around 2am they were told to come to the hospital as the labour became more established. After getting admitted and assed, around 3am, the pair were completely exhausted but wanted to try and walk around the hospital corridors to move things on. Skye was 4cm dilated and was potentially looking at a long, drawn out labour.

Blindly they walked down empty corridors stopping for the occasional contraction until they reached a door. Pushing it open they were met with darkness. Thinking it was a quiet corridor and the motion sensors would turn on the lights as they walked down they trudged on, tiredness dulling their senses.

That was until they stepped inside, and the lights flickered on to show they were in a store cupboard. Mickey turned to find the handle was missing from the door. He pushed it - nothing. They were trapped.

As Skye was mid-contraction, the realization came upon Mickey first. He tried not to panic, because he was sure there would be a way out. Surely no reputable hospital would contain an inescapable room that two exhausted, unsuspecting parents-to-be could just wander haphazardly into.

He inspected the door more closely, the spike of adrenaline finally allowing his bleary eyes to focus, and he saw a metal plate over where the handle would be and a doorstop by his feet. Only then did he vaguely recall a paper sign taped to the other side of the door. He hadn’t read it, but he now guessed it said something like “Caution: do not close, door locks automatically.”

Still, this was a busy hospital; it couldn’t be that long before someone would need something from this supply closet, right?

When Skye’s contraction ended and her breathing normalized, she found her husband wide-eyed and stricken and any tiredness that had been clouding her mind vanished. “What? What is it?”

“Okay, don’t panic.” He held out his hands in an almost pleading gesture. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

His placating tone only made her fear ratchet up another notch. “What does that mean? What do you mean everything’s going to be okay?”

“Well,” he explained, wrapping an arm around her waist and letting her lean into him, “we seem to have found ourselves in a somewhat unconventional labour suite.”

Skye looked around, first confused, then slightly amused. “Oh. You’re right—no bed? no doctors? no epidural?? Yes, this is certainly no place to be having a baby.”

Mickey grimaced—she was right, but at the moment they had no other choice. “That’s the thing, yeah? The door is…” he trailed off, nodded toward the door, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t put the pieces together. “It’s kind of one-way, love.” Still no hint of recognition. “And that way… is not out.” He shrugged and did his best to adopt a more light-hearted tone. “We’re stuck.”

Skye’s eyes danced frantically around the small room—the low ceiling, the dirty floor, the packed shelves lining the walls, and finally the door. The very solid-looking, heavy and more importantly, locked door.

Her breathing quickened, heart rate spiking, as the reality of their situation finally began to sink in. “Oh shit,” she whispered, a tremble in her voice.

“It’s going to be okay,” Mickey said again, as much to himself as to her.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” she continued muttering, her eyes turning up to the dimly lit ceiling in an attempt to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over. Her midsection tightened suddenly, quick and fierce, and she gasped, her litany of curses cut off as she attempted to hum through the pain.

Mickey immediately moved from emotional support position to physical support position. He guided Skye’s arms around his neck and wrapped his strong hands around her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze of counter pressure.

“Mick,” she whined into his chest, and he squeezed harder as her fingers dug into his shoulders. They swayed together as the contraction built, but paused at its peak, clinging to each other tightly. He swept the hair back over her neck and away from her face and whispered in her ear until her body finally slumped against him. “That one felt stronger,” she said, “And longer.”

Neither wanted to admit what that might mean, and since neither of them had a watch so they couldn’t be 100% sure. But after three more merciless contractions in relatively quick succession, it certainly seemed like the stress of the situation had finally kicked her labour into high gear.

“Ok let’s keep calm” came the reasoning voice of Mickey as he tried to assess the situation.

“Calm! Calm! I can’t even turn around in here without either my ass or belly touching one of the sides. This is no place for a pregn… gah!” Skye’s rant was cut short by her hand grasping the underside of her belly as she groaned through another contraction. It was certainly not 5 minutes between them that’s for sure.

Mickey resumed his supporting position, using one arm to cuddle his wife whilst the other brushed at her hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He felt tears stream down her cheek.

He looked at the floor. In the dusty grime on there he at least saw footprints. He explained it to Skye and both were buoyed that at least they were somewhere that someone visits. Perhaps they need to wait until morning… even then 7am, that’s at least 3 hours away, maybe more. If the day staff don’t arrive until 9am that’s even longer. Skye might not last that long.

As Skye came down from her flustered bout of crying, and he was confident that she could stand unaided he banged on the door and asked her to be quiet. He concentrated in the silence listening out for any reply beyond the edge of the door. He tried again and shouted a yell at the same time ‘thump… thump…thump’ went the rhythmical banging. Once again they listened out to be greeted only with silence. They even held their breath.

Until Skye yelped. “My waters!”

Mikey looked down at the water running down Skye’s leg. “At least there’s a mop,” he joked, which only made Skye glare first at the dirty water bucket and then back at her husband. “Sorry, bad timing?”

Skye’s face settled into something more like anxious resignation as her eyes welled back up again. “What if they don’t find us before the baby comes? I don’t- how am I supposed to have a baby in here?”

Mickey pulled her in close again and stroked gentle fingertips up and down her back. “No need to worry about that just yet. We’ll take things as they come, yeah?”

She nodded—what other choice did they have?

“How’re you feeling? How’s the little one?”

Skye took a deep breath, forced down the spiralling worst case scenarios playing in her mind, and actually focused on how she felt in her body at this moment. “Mm, baby’s low,” she said, noting how her stance had unconsciously widened after her waters had gone. “More pressure. Definitely moving down.”

If she thought the pressure was intense just standing there, she had no words for its severity once the next contraction started. It would have brought her to her knees if Mickey hadn’t already been holding her.

“Skye?” he asked with concern when she moaned and dropped into as much of a squatting position as the cramped space would allow.

The stinging weight filling her from within was unfamiliar and sudden and her hand found its way between her legs. She half expected to feel a bulge there, but of course there was nothing yet—it was irrational to think that a single contraction would progress things along so quickly, but fear and pain weren’t exactly known for producing rational thoughts.

Weathering the contraction in this position made her quads and glutes ache and by the time it was over she was sweaty and overheated.

“I’ve got to get this gown off,” she muttered, tugging at the thin fabric as she clambered to an upright position.

“What was that?” Mickey asked, unsure what she wanted or how to help her.

“I’m fucking roasting in here.” Skye clawed at the gown but it clung to her damp skin and she couldn’t unfurl her arms or twist well enough with her giant belly in the way. “I can’t get this fucking thing off!” she cried out in frustration, one elbow stuck in the arm hole.

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright, you’re just—“ Mickey stilled her frantic flailing limbs and pinched the open flap of her hospital gown. “Just a bit twisted up here.” He peeled the fabric over her shoulder and down her arm, which freed it to assist in freeing the other. He caught it before it hit the filthy floor—they may need it later—and placed it on top of what looked like a relatively clean surface.

Skye spent a few moments bending and rotating and testing her newfound freedom of movement. Once her breathing levelled out and she appeared to relax a bit, Mickey didn’t exactly mind the sight of his wife’s full, curvy figure bouncing and shimmying in front of him.

“Better?” he asked as she finally stilled, fully upright with hands pressed into her lower back. He loved looking at her like this, and he mentally scolded himself for starting to get hard at a moment like this.

It was as if Skye just remembered her husband was here, but once her eyes found his she recognized the look in them and she looked down at her naked body. Well, as much of it as she could see. It could very well have been a closet just like this in which their child was conceived, and the irony had her giggling.

Mickey looked somewhat perplexed at the change of tone, but didn’t object when she pressed into him, guided his hands to her bare breasts and kissed him. His body responded automatically, teasing her nipples as his tongue danced with hers.

“Fuck!” Skye gasped and he began to pull away, but she shook her head, kept his hands anchored to her body. “Do it again.”

His fingers barely brushed her, but her whole body clenched with the onslaught of another contraction. “Already?”

“Mmhmm.” Skye closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of his hands on her body—so familiar, so comforting—and suddenly knew, no matter what, they could get through this. Together.

Skye’s response to the contractions had changed since she shed her gown. She no longer seemed to be focused on riding through them, but rather seemed to be actively working with them. Her hands were clamped around Mickey, pressing her body – at least the parts that were sticking out as a result of the pregnancy – tight against him. She breathed deep breaths in moments of relief between the pains, and made a lot of noise during the pain. The noises weren’t painful noises – shouts and screeches – more “ooh’s” and “ahh’s.”

It had the effect of causing her chest to heave up and down. Naked flesh pressed against Mikey’s clothing resulted in more friction, and in turn, her nipples were rock hard and being rubbed – not painfully though – quite the opposite. Mikey’s ears picked up a change in tone… almost erotic. He heard that noise a lot when they were in bed. It was almost a whimper. He risked a kiss to Skye’s forehead and she returned in kind, her head tilting up to allow her lips to meet his and they grabbed into an embrace.

Tongue met tongue as their natural instinct took over, though it was broken quickly by the onset of another contraction. This one took Skye a little by surprise and she wasn’t ready for it, her hands grasping Mickey’s hair and pulling tight as her voice let out the closest thing a yell of pain so far.

“You ok?” Mikey asked, concern in his voice as he felt Skye’s legs shuffle apart. She didn’t answer. “Babe?” he asked again. Still Skye pulled on his hair. It was getting painful now, but he knew he wasn’t exactly in any place to complain. He gritted his teeth and just rode it through with this wife.

Skye finally gasped, and much to Mikey’s relief, loosened her grip on his hair.

“What was that?” he asked, still a note of concern in his voice.

Skye blew out her breath, and took a moment to compose herself. “Just the joy of contractions I think. No two seem to be the same. Just hope I don’t have many more like that. That wasn’t fun.”

“Yeah,” came Mikey’s reply. “I didn’t like that, it hurt!”

The absurdity of the moment caused Skye to burst into laughter. “That hurt? Don’t be a baby. You should see what’s happening between my legs.”

Mikey took a gulp before continuing. “Lets not focus on the between the legs too quickly. I mean we need to get out of here first. Then I’ll gladly stare down the barrel of the gun and watch our baby come out, and I’ll not even complain when you squeeze my hand tight as you’re doing it.”

“Oh you charmer…” winced Skye, the next contraction building. This was starting to get exhausting, all she wanted to do was sit down and take her weight off her legs. There as nowhere to sit though unless she sank down onto the floor… and maybe then she might never get up. No… need to stay focused on getting out. Cross my legs, lean on Mikey. She had an inner monologue going through her head as she felt her midsection tighten, hold and release once more. Whilst it wasn’t exactly comfortable, she had gotten used to the pains happening again and again and found ways to cope. She just had to hope that they were released before it came to the main pushing phase. She really didn’t want to be caught on some CCTV pushing her baby out in a corridor, and she knew it was quite a walk back to the birthing suite based on how far they walked to get into the situation they were in right now.

They swayed, hummed, kissed and breathed through several more pains, but it was becoming harder to focus on anything but the steadily increasing contractions. The worst of the pain ebbed and flowed, but the pressure seemed constant now and she ached from her back all the way down to her ankles. She wasn’t able to catch her breath after one contraction before another one would begin and the discomfort became sharper—less a broad, dull ache and more concentrated, stabbing deep down through her core.

Skye wanted to ask Mickey to check her dilation, but firstly, she wasn’t sure either of them could contort themselves into a position that would make that possible at the moment, and secondly, she suspected it wouldn’t be all that accurate anyway. She just had to trust her instincts, and right now her instincts were telling her that things were about to get really intense.

“Mm, I need to—“ Skye shifted restlessly, wriggling her hips and pausing in several different positions before frowning. “I don’t know... something.” She bent over, leaning heavily into the shelf ledge as gravity shifted the pull on her gravid belly and a fraction of the tension in her lower back eased.

The next contraction was on her before she’d anticipated and her grip tightened. Natural reflexes took hold and she started to lower into a squat when Mickey’s panicked voice breached the fog of pain.

“Skye!” Mickey threw his body over his wife’s hunched form and several items from the higher shelves bounced off his back and onto the floor. With more force than intended, he ripped her hands away from the unstable shelving unit.

Skye didn’t resist, but cried out and collapsed onto her knees, which spread wide of their own accord. “Sorry, baby. Sorry,” she muttered as the objects rained down around her and she heard Mickey’s little “ow’s” and “oomph’s”. “Didn’t mean to. Didn’t—“ She couldn’t finish the thought. Her breathing was shallow and quick, Mickey’s heat overwhelmed her already flushed skin and she suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. “Sorry,” she finally said again, closing her eyes and willing the nausea to abate.

Mickey shushed her and gave her a little squeeze, which caused her to flinch. He pulled away and examined his wife more closely — curled in on herself tightly, both arms encircling her belly, and whiter than a wedding dress. He was sure if he could see her face it would be wearing a grimace.

How could he help her?

He tried pounding on the door again to no avail, and the added sensory input only made Skye wince even more. Looking around the room, he noticed that the mop bucket was actually two nested buckets, which meant the bottom one was empty and Skye could finally have somewhere to sit.

“I need you to stand for me, love,” Mickey pleaded, which earned him a pained groan. “I know, but only for a minute.” She started to get up, but then he realized that if she did then he wouldn’t be able to get past her to reach the bucket. Instead, he grabbed her hand and sort of ushered her between his legs as he stepped over her, which was awkward and hurt his shoulder, but he was glad he did when she nearly toppled over once he was on the other side of her. “Alright, up one more time for me. You can do it.”

Skye was shaky and a bit dazed and dizzy, but she allowed Mickey to help her to her feet and then leaned heavily against the door. Mickey bent down into the newly occupied space below her, but another contraction was building and she groaned loudly. “Mick, hurry.”

Mickey extricated the empty bucket and hastily flipped it over, but it was far from clean. He grabbed Skye’s discarded gown and draped it over the top, piling as much fabric as he could at the top. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable chair in the world, but it was better than nothing.

Skye’s legs were already splayed, so it didn’t take much effort to slide the makeshift stool between them. Wordlessly, and more like she could no longer hold herself up than that she’d realized what he’d done, she grabbed Mickey’s forearms and began sliding down the door.

“That’s it, there you go.” Mickey breathed a sigh of relief at the same time Skye’s laboured huffs picked up again. “Just relax and focus on the baby.”

Skye would have laughed at the idea of relaxing, but she had no air to spare—it was all going toward a meditative hum that was the only thing keeping her from screaming.

Things were moving quickly now. The contractions were long and brutal, right on top of each other and she blindly grabbed for Mickey’s hand. His grip was both strong and comforting and once again she reminded herself that she could do this as long as he was there by her side.

Her body was in transition—she could feel it, the descending, the opening, the hint of an urge beginning to build—and the hardest part was yet to come. If they were going to be found before the baby came… it would have to be pretty damn soon.

Mickey settled down into a squat between Skye’s legs as she hummed and groaned through one contraction after another. He held and squeezed her hand, rubbed her thigh and leaned forward kissing the belly. After about 20 minutes of what seemed like non stop pain he started feeling cramp himself in his legs and moved to a kneeling position, his jeans legs getting messy from the muck and liquid spilled on the floor. He looked around and tried to find something - anything that could mop up the mess. Best he could find was piles of toilet rolls.

“Better than nothing” he grumbled as he got up and pulled them off the shelf. He started unspooling the paper from the roll, dropping it in the floor and trying to mop things up with his foot. It looked comical. Not only was the paper disintegrating as it hit the wet floor, but the sticky mess was caked on his shoes within minutes.

He looks up to see Skye giggling.

“I know you’re trying to help but just give up will you?”

Mickey, flustered responded “I can’t have the floor this messy what if you do have the baby in here and you need to lay her down on the floor ?”

Skye still looked to have humour in her features, though she did seem to pant a little out of breath as she spoke.

“Firstly… I’m not having her here. Secondly… you see these?” She grabbed her breasts and jiggled them.

“Yeah, how could I not…” commented Mickey - his wife’s pregnancy enhanced bosom a constant source of pleasure for him since they got over the shock of the pregnancy.

“Well these will be where the baby will be, cradled in my arms even if it’s here, there or anywhere else in this building.”

Mickey sighed and reluctantly returned to his position on the floor supporting Skye. “Ok you’re right I’m just trying to find something to do.”

Skye had gone a little white as he said the last sentence. She announced “you might need to catch the baby… I think I need to push!”

Two equally powerful instincts warred within Skye—the desperate desire to give birth with the help of professionals in a big clean bed versus the absolute feral need to give in to her body’s need to push. As the next contraction built she clung to the former, panting and squirming and squeezing the hell out of Mickey’s hand. Anything that wasn’t bearing down with the impossible pressure.

She was able to weather another three or four contractions this way before the pain of holding back far surpassed the fear of giving in.

“Babe, I can’t- I have to—“ Skye whimpered, trailing off as the reality began to sink in.

It was Mickey’s turn to squeeze Skye’s hand, and she looked down into his determined gaze. “I know. I know, and it’s alright.” She nodded, but her face was pinched and tense and looked like she was trying not to cry. He put his free hand on the curve of her stomach and felt it clench and harden beneath his touch. “You want to try pushing?”

Skye hesitated, but then nodded again, breathing picking up as her midsection coiled and squeezed. There had started a small respite between contractions now, and it gave her precious time to renew her strength—both physical and mental. She released her hold on Mickey and closed her eyes to block out the less than ideal environment and instead focused inward.

The bucket seat was hard and awkward and caused an ache in her sacrum. She adjusted her position, scooting her ass forward and opening her knees as wide as they could go while leaning back and pressing into the unyielding door. Her palms and fingers dug into her thighs and everything tensed as she gave her first real push.

“Hhhah, hah, ah, fuck,” she huffed, kneading the muscles in her thigh before grabbing them and holding her breath and pushing again. She strained harder this time, tilting her hips up and shaking with the effort she was putting into it, but it was still like trying to roll a boulder up a hill.

When it was over she collapsed against the door and gasped in deep gulps of air, the sheen of sweat causing her heaving belly to glisten.

“Okay?” Mickey asked, coaxing her hands to release their death grip on her own legs. Her response was a disgruntled whine. “You’re doing great,” he assured her.

She “hmph”-ed again and opened her eyes to look at him. “It doesn’t feel like anything’s happening.”

Mickey chuckled. “It was one contraction. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

Skye pouted and rubbed both hands over her impressive swell. “It all just hurts. Everywhere. I can’t tell where she is. I don’t- I don’t know how to do this.”

“Is that all?” She glared at him, but he just smirked in response. “I think I can help with that.”

Mickey pulled her forward on the makeshift stool even more, then his hands moved up her thighs to between her legs. She was wet with birthing fluids and his fingers easily slipped between her folds. Her muscles instinctively clamped around him, then relaxed enough for him to push deeper, then clenched again with the start of another contraction.

“Relax,” he instructed, teasing her just enough to release the tension there but not enough to pull her focus. “Can you feel me?” He wiggled his fingers and her mouth quirked up into a half smile. “Push. There. Push for me, love.”

The effort was still there, painted into her features and posture, but more concentrated now. He could see the muscles in her abdomen press in, push down; he could feel the soft flesh press gently but insistently against his fingertips.

“She’s not far,” Mickey announced, voice suddenly thick with emotion. “You’ll have her out in no time.”

Skye redoubled her efforts. She could feel Mickey’s hand on her, in her, with her. She wasn’t just pushing her baby out from her body, she was pushing it into his hands.

She stopped keeping track of how many contractions came and went—didn’t want to lose that tenuous connection that was holding the three of them together—but then something shifted. It stopped feeling like there was no progress being made and started feeling like it was being made far too quickly. Like every push was testing the limits of her flesh. The pressure just kept building, and building, with nowhere for it to go.

Skye was pressed back hard against the door, but no amount of length in her spine would alleviate the fullness in her hips. She wailed as that immense force narrowed and sharpened, concentrated at a single unyielding point.

Mickey’s heart rate spiked as the last push came with a distinctive bowing out of her skin, evicting his fingers completely. He was about to tell her has such when they were both jostled harshly as a crack of light appeared in the doorway and a frantic voice on the other side was calling their names.

They had finally been found… but Skye wasn’t going anywhere.

Skye was jostled forward as the door opened. It only opened a crack before her body stopped it moving but the voices behind were recognisable as the two midwives the couple had met on their arrival.

“Hello! Hello are you ok?” One of the concerned voices shouted beyond the door.

“We’re alive, if that’s what you mean” shouted Mickey in response. “Skye’s pushing, I can feel the head right there. She can’t move. We need help. “

“What do you mean she can’t move, is she injured?” Asked the midwife.

Skye was the next to answer “no, there’s a bowling ball between my legs, I can’t get up!” She was clearly stressed and yelling. “I need to push it out, I don’t know what to do!”

Skye closed her eyes and gripped onto Mickeys hands, a clear sign her contraction had started again. The midwives listened carefully as Skye yelled out a few moments later, all her effort into a push.

“Is she dilated?” Asked the midwife.

“How do I tell?” Asked Mickey in response.

“If you can get your fingers sanitised you should put them in your wife’s vagina, you might be able to feel around the head and take a guess at how wide her cervix is open?” A hand poked through the gap in the door “ if it’s open up as wide as needed your fingers should be this wide” the disembodied hand showed a gap between thumb and forefinger.

“Listen!” Yelled Mickey to make his voice heard over Skye’s own pained moans “the head is fucking right there, it’s bulging out. I can’t even fit my fingers in right now.”

“Ok” came the voice from the other side of the door “sounds like she’s doing what she needs to be doing. I really need you to help her to her feet and get her out of the way so we can get in.”

“Nooooo!” Wailed Skye. “Don’t ask me to stand. Don’t think my legs will hold my weight. Need to push, need to push!” She closed her eyes and let out a grunting sound.

Skye’s body stiffened as the urge built up inside her once again. She threw her head back, the tendons cording in her neck as her face reddened. Some wet, strangled sound escaped her throat as she took in a few ragged breaths and then redoubled her efforts. She pushed this way for several contractions and the effort nearly made her sick, coughing and sputtering as she came down from the last one.

“Remember to breathe, Skye,” came the unhelpful reminder from the other side of the door.

“Don’t force anything; the babe will come. Relax if you can,” the second midwife added.

“Relax?” Sky growled, incredulous. How the hell was she supposed to do that? She looked down at Mickey and his eyes were pleading—she was giving it everything she had and still wasn’t crowning and he was worried about her. “Help me. Please.”

“Anything.” Their space was limited, but Mickey managed to lean forward, one hand still cupped around Skye’s sex, and kiss up her thigh, her belly, her breasts. “You’re so beautiful like this. So strong.” She was about to protest but he bit down lightly on her neck and she gasped, releasing the vice like grip she’d had on her legs and instead curling around the muscles of his shoulders. “Working so hard to bring our baby into the world.” Just as his lips reached her jaw she tensed and began to arch away from him, but he anchored her in place and whispered in her ear, “Stay with me, love. Right here with me.” She nodded against his temple and he smiled. “Good girl. Gentle pushes for me now.”

It seemed counterintuitive to Skye, that putting in less effort would yield greater results, but the subtle burning release she felt between her legs as she hummed and grunted her way through the next few contractions hinted that it was working.

“How are things progressing in there?” the midwives asked.

Mickey pulled back and Skye whimpered, grabbed onto his wrist. “I’m just going to take a look,” he promised, sitting back on his heels. When he finally saw what was happening between his wife’s legs, tears began welling in his eyes. “I- I can see the head,” he called to the crack in the door. Then, to Skye, “The head is right there, baby, even when you’re not pushing. You are the most amazing woman who’s ever lived.”

Sky giggled at that. “Pretty sure there are at least a dozen other women right down the hall doing this exact same thing right now.”

Mickey shook his head. “Nope. None of them are as amazing as you.”

“None of them doing it in a broom closet, though, I can assure you of that!” one of the midwives added, only slightly exasperated.

“As if that’s something to brag about,” Skye muttered.

Mickey was going to say something back about it at least being a damn good story, but then Skye’s eyes screwed shut and her chest heaved with laboured breaths. Her body pushed of its own accord and she wailed as her opening widened another fraction of an inch.

The midwives’ chatter picked up at the change in her tone. “Yep, sounds like the beginning of a crown to me!”

Skye let out a groan which echoed around the confined space of the cupboard. Mickey got himself back in close, his hands kneading Skye’s shoulders and his lips exploring her face.

“Just like that…” he said, keeping his voice low and calm.

Skye continued her effort, grunting, sighing, moaning and holding her breath almost in a cycle as she felt her body do the work it needed to do.

The burning sensation between her legs grew and grew, as the head of their babe continued its unrelenting journey, but at the end of each panting contraction, there was noticeable movement between Skye’s legs.

She had stopped any sort of conversation at this point, only managing enough energy to keep going, and when the contraction subsided, she used the opportunity to pant and catch her breath.

Mickey on the other hand was chattering on incessantly.

“I can see the head, you’re doing great. She’s almost got the head out. What do I do to catch it. The heads coming. Baby I’m so proud of you. Keep going, do what you’re doing. “

“Shutup shutup shutup!” The exclamation from Skye was unexpected and Mickey was taken aback for a second.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“It burns… it really burns. Mickey help me…” Skye looked pleading

“Anything baby… what I can I do”

“Rub my clit…”

The announcement may as well have been shouted out using a loud speaker the fact that Mickey and the 2 midwives both went silent.

Mickey froze, shook his head, certain he’d heard incorrectly. “You- I—what?”

“Mickey, please. Please, baby,” she whined, the words just as breathless and desperate as they were in the bedroom, but now for entirely different reasons.

When his mind finally caught up with her words, a slight blush coloured his cheeks. “What, here? Now? Can I do that?” Then, because he was sure the women on the other side of the door had heard her request as well, “Am I allowed to do that?”

“Never argue with a pregnant person,” one replied.

The other hummed in agreement. “Do what you need to do, sweetie. Whatever makes the pain a little easier to take.”

Babe!” Skye gasped—a warning, an appeal. She whimpered and panted and shifted her hips, but there was no relief to be found there. “Please,” she said again, and this finally spurred Mickey into action.

He adjusted the hand that was supporting the emerging head, his thumb immediately going to work on her sensitive bud. The motion was habit, done without thinking in his usual strong vigorous rhythm, and she flinched away from him with a cry. He snatched his hand away and examined her with frantic eyes. “Oh my god, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? The baby? I thought—”

Skye shook her head, reaching blindly for his hand. When it found her grasp, she guided it back between her legs. “Slow. Please. Gentle. Slow,” she managed punctuated guidance between panted breaths.

Tentatively this time, almost fearful, Mickey brushed his thumb featherlight across her clit and she shivered, exhaling a little more forcefully. Encouraged by her response, he pressed deeper into her folds, tracing the lines and edges in lazy circles.

“Mhmm, just like that,” Skye moaned, wincing as the pleasure mixed with the pain. The burn was intense now, stealing her breath just as quickly as Mickey’s ministrations allowed her to catch it. “Is the head, is it—hah, ah—is it almost—fuck—out?” Mickey’s pause was answer enough and Skye threw her head back against the door in frustration. “Fuck.”

“You’re stretching really good, babe.” Skye huffed. “No, really. So much is out already. There’s just… you’ve still got a little ways to go yet.”

Skye growled as another contraction wound its way around her midsection. “Just don’t stop.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mickey said, a smile in his voice, shaking out his hand and flexing his fingers before returning them to their post.

This time, just to give her own hands something to do, Skye drew them up the curve of her belly and moulded them around her full breasts, kneading the tender flesh and rolling her nipples under her thumbs, between her fingers. The action seemed to intensify the contraction and she curled forward instinctually, her upper body wrapping around her tight stomach and one arm dropping to hook under a knee and pull her leg up and back as she released a primal strangled cry.

Mickey had to abandon his duties between Skye’s legs in favour of making sure she didn’t fall over. He put a steadying hand on her waist as her roar intensified, the pain now in full force without the distraction of his intimate touch.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going, let it out.”

“Burning. It’s burning,” Skye panted in desperation, wrapping her free arm under his and digging her fingers into his back. She nestled her head into his neck and grunted, getting in a few more small pushes before slumping into him as the contraction waned. “Hurts.”

“I know.” Mickey kissed the top of her head and she released her hold on her leg. His hand drifted back down her inner thigh and he gasped excitedly. “Holy shit, the head’s almost out!”

“Really?” Mickey nodded. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” Mickey’s lips found hers and he guided her hand to where his had just been. Her whole palm filled with something soft, wet, warm, and she stroked her thumb along the gentle curve. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, voice thick with emotion. “We can’t wait to meet you. I can’t believe you’re almost here.”

“Just another push or two ought to do it. You were so close on that last one.”

“Mm, you better be right about that.” Skye let out a few short quick breaths before pulling her leg back once more, leaning forward into another big push.

“Ehm, about those instruction on how to catch…?” Mickey called out to the hallway as Skye’s screams began anew.

“Just hold the head as it pops out, DON’T pull it” came the supportive voice from beyond the other side of the door - though the end of the statement was punctuated by the warning which he readily took in.

Mickey leaned back to get as good a look as he could under Skye’s belly and he let out an involuntary gasp. Where before her hole was red and swollen it was now white, stretched to the extreme, and the boulder shape of their baby - an object easily as wide as his hand - rested there almost at the tipping point.

Skye didn’t notice Mickey as she whimpered, the sensations taking all of her focus until she suddenly flinched completely in her seat and let out a yelp then suddenly, just like that, the head seemed to surge forward and it was suddenly… out.

The bottom half of the head slipped forward as Mickey darted his hand down instinctively only to get it covered by amniotic fluid but he held onto… something. It took a moment to realise that nestled in his palm were the features of their baby. He could feel the nose, the mouth. He was dumbstruck.

“Mickey!” shrieked Skye

“Baby!” shrieked Mickey

“What happened” came the voice from the other side of the door.

“The… the heads out.” stammered Mickey. He took in the scene. Skye was panting big heaving breaths, taking what time she could to rest, their baby’s head was nestled in his hands and he was squatted down like a baseball catcher. The puddle of water that just came out of Skye was spreading wider on the floor beneath him… and he realised his thighs ached like crazy.

“OK stay exactly as you are. Keep supporting the head. Check the neck, make sure there isn’t a cord wrapped around it” came the voice of guidance

“How?”

“Stick your finger in there and run it around the baby’s neck.”

Mickey tentatively extended a finger and probed it into his wife. She didn’t flinch or react, oblivious to this tiny additional movement, but compared to before… it was nothing.

“No, it’s not there.” Mickey sounded relieved that’s for certain.

“Ok so the head will want to rotate, then when baby is turned to the side it’s time for the shoulders.”

Skye grunted, shifted in her seat as Mickey felt the head rotate. He took a chance to adjust his position, knees going to the soggy ground as the baby’s head turned.

Looks like things were happening again.

It was a strange sensation, feeling the baby shift partially inside and partially outside her. The consuming burn had eased with the passing of the head but the pressure remained just as insistent. Once again it felt as if the baby would simply fall out of her—if only it would be that easy.

“That’s it, baby, keep pushing, just a few more pushes,” Mickey encouraged as Skye grunted and bore down with the next contraction.

“Mmm, no, not again,” Skye pleaded with no one in particular as her tender opening bulged and stretched with the press of the shoulders behind it. “I can’t do it again,” she whined, breaths become erratic, panicked, pained, “I’m not ready!”

Well, she was ready for this all to be over, to have her baby in her arms and an actual bed to lie in, but the pain was still so fresh and raw, her tissues fragile and strained.

“S’okay, Skye. Take a break, take a breath. Baby’ll still be waiting for you whenever you’re ready,” came a voice through the crack in the door.

Mickey was thankful for their guidance then, as he’d had no idea what to say to Skye in that moment. As she puffed out quick breaths of air, he squinted in the dim light, peering under her belly. Now that the baby had rotated, it was actually facing toward him. Waxy and wet and scrunched, Mickey had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over a chubby cheek. The baby’s mouth opened and closed, already responding to his touch. “Go easy on mommy, okay? She loves you very much, but you’ve got daddy’s big head and she’s a little sore at the moment.”

Skye smiled at that, eyes still closed in a rare moment of rest, and reached down to stroke the top of the baby’s head. “You listen to your father now,” she warned, breathing picking back up again.

“Ready?” Mickey asked. Skye paused a moment, then nodded. “Whenever you’re ready—let’s have a baby.”

Skye nodded again, this time to herself, gathering her wits about her. Her groan was guttural, deep, primal, an animal driven by instinct. Her whole body seemed to bow inward, concentrating all its forces into her core. One shoulder would peek out, only to slip back in as soon as Skye sucked in a quick breath. She’d shift her hips and then the other would make an appearance, but then the stretch would become unbearable and cause her to cry out, weakening her efforts just enough for it to disappear back between her folds. She pressed her palms into her thighs, digging into her flesh and forcing her knees outward as far apart as they would go.

When another contraction came and went like this, Skye heaved a sigh of exasperation. “I don’t,” she panted, “think I,” another breath, “can get the shoulders out like this.”

Mickey, their child’s head still cradled in his hands, bit his lips and directed his question toward the door, a tinge of worry creeping into his tone. “How do we do this? What- what can we do?”

“Just keep calm. The best thing to do is open up her pelvis. Either a nice deep squat, or we push her legs back to get the same thing.” The voice was reassuring, realising that Mickey was starting to panic.

“I’ll get down I’ll get down” voiced Skye as she lifted her butt up ready to push the bucket she had been resting on out of the way. She actually shuffled a step forward and overbalanced Mickey who tumbled to the floor, though he kept his hand fixed to the head of their child.

The commotion caught the attention of the team on the other side of the door who tried to make sense of the clattering and banging going on inside the closet.

Skye hunkered down and grunted, her deep squat resulted in Mickeys hand, holding the baby’s head, being pressed into the ground, in the muck and birth fluids that were pooling there.

A strong grunt, a whine and another grunt. Suddenly she yelled “help, it’s not moving”

From the other side of the door came the question “Mickey do you still have the head?”

“Yes…” came the response.

“Ok… let go, and pull Skye up.”

“You sure?”

“Trust us…”

Mickey wriggled his hand out from under Skye leaving the head exposed, grabbed her hands and heaved backwards so Skye was back on her feet.

“She’s up”

“Ok stand back, we’re coming in.”

There was a blur of activity. Finally the door opened wide, and Mickey and Skye were met with the sight of 2 midwives, someone wearing a pair of overalls presumably from the maintenance team and a cold blast of air as the air conditioned corridor opened wide.

One of the midwives rushed in and grabbed Skye by the arms as they led her backwards, wide legged and frog-walking out of the closet.

One kept close attention to the baby as Skye was turned around and lowered to the floor. Everything looked good as she was laid on her back, icy cold flooring sending shivers all over her body as her legs were pushed back and her hips were opened wide.

“Skye, give me the biggest push you can, right now!” the midwives commanded.

As the cold seeped into Skye’s bare flushed skin, she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was completely naked in the very non-private hallway, with her legs spread open as wide as they were capable of going.

The medical staff, at least, had the decency to mind their own business even as the passersby gaped and gawked. She wasn’t embarrassed, exactly, but it made her self conscious about her actions, her noises, her progress, and she couldn’t quite give herself over fully to the next contraction.

Skye whimpered, close to tears and feeling like a failure that she still wasn’t able to get her baby out. She grabbed for Mickey’s hand and he knelt on the far side of her, hunching himself over her body and blocking at least her upper half from view from all but the most curious onlookers.

“Too big,” she whined, looking into his eyes for comfort or encouragement or sympathy, she didn’t know.

“I know, baby, but you’re so close. Your body was made for this, just a few more pushes, you’ll get out baby out, I know you will,” he murmured in the space between contractions. Then, when Skye released a sharp breath and her belly visibly tensed, “Come on now, as hard as you can.”

Skye nodded at the same time the midwives forced her knees comically far back and down, lifting her butt off the floor so that her vagina was practically sticking straight up toward the ceiling. When she crunched up, folding over her belly, her head was almost between her knees and all the air was forced from her lungs.

She held the push as long as she could, the baby’s head pressing up and away from her hips, attempting to free itself from her tight hole. She fell back to the floor, gasped in a breath, and curled back up, the baby’s head bobbing up and down in time with her efforts.

Mickey was so focused on his wife’s face that he didn’t see when the midwife stuck half her hand around the emerging shoulder in Skye’s opening, but he saw the change in her expression, heard as her cries escalated into strangled, wild howls.

“What are you doing!” Mickey asked frantically, bordering on yelling.

“Just helping the other shoulder along; don’t want it getting bruised or stuck,” the midwife explained.

Mickey wanted to protest, but Skye was nodding, eyes still screwed shut with pain. Something must have given way because Skye gasped, surged forward into an almost unexpected push as the baby was finally shifted into a proper position. She screamed one last time as the shoulders emerged, stretching her even wider than the head, and then the rest of the baby slid out easily, along with an impressive spray of amniotic fluid, and immediately placed on Skye’s bare chest.

The scream brought a few people running and Skye ended up being the unfortunate recipient of yet more public scrutiny… but at that point she couldn’t care. She’d done it. The sound of her and Mickeys baby crying loud wails was music to her ears and nothing could take that fact away.

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks and the same was true of Mickey, the events of the day had reached a point where he was just so glad it was over.

He sensed a figure appear behind him then heard a cough. Turning he looked at the maintenance man in his overalls behind him, holding forward Skye’s gown she had discarded earlier.

He thanked him and grabbed it, looking to the midwives for guidance.

“I’ve called for a wheelchair for Skye, I want to get her back to maternity before she has to deliver the afterbirth.” Mickey nodded at what the midwife had said. He moved around to the back of Skye and pulled the gown over her, as one of the midwives took the baby temporarily and held it - finally getting a good chance too look at the gender and realising the couple had a girl - as Skye did the best she could on the floor to pull the gown over her thighs and get handed back the baby again.

“Besides… I think Skye may need a few stitches… that last few moments were quite… forceful I think it’s fair to say.”

As the chair arrived and between Mickey and one of the midwives they managed to get Skye to her feet the group left at a hurried pace back to the room assigned to them.

For Tom the janitor, he just looked at the mess in the cupboard and sighed. Best get to tidying that little patch of chaos up… and changing that door handle.

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #pregnancy #labor kink

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rotrightthrough · 5 months ago

Text

We’re live!

Word count: 2000 somehow?? I intended this to be a little Drabble but oh well. This is a re upload for visibility. Idea is from @swollentummies

Eli adjusted his lingerie to drape perfectly over his baby bump. The fabric was extremely tight, a purchase from much earlier in his pregnancy, but it was one of his favorite pieces, made of pure, delicate white lace, and today was an important show. He was prepared to go all out. “Be good for this one ok?” He whispered down at the 42 week swell of his belly. Eli had actually planned to take a break from camming after he hit his due date but after 2 weeks of minimal movement and no signs of imminent labour, he decided to bless his viewers with one last show, one where he’s as pregnant as he’ll ever be. A grand finale of you will.With one more adjustment of his posture he flicked on his camera and smiled as he watched the viewers pour in. “Ok guys I’m sad to say this will be my last show for a while, so let’s make it a good one.”

Comments flooded through the chat, many disappointed but just as many merely excited to see their favorite camboy stream so close to birth. “We’re going to be doing donations for requests today. Nothing too crazy though.” He giggled, “don’t want to send me into labor.” His first donation came in right after that statement. It was a pretty hefty one too, with the request being simply to do 10 jumping jacks. “Jumping jacks?” He raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. A request is a request after all. The mere action of standing up was arduous now, but he tried to make it look more sultry and less like he was a beached whale coming up from the water. He did one jumping Jack before realizing why the donor had requested such an action. As he jumped out his belly would bob and sway, the pure gravity and speed of the action foreign to Eli’s body at such an advanced stage in pregnancy.

He tried his best to make the exertion appealing to his viewers, even lingering to gently stroke his belly afterwards, which was now awake with a flurry of exercise induced activity. He panted as he sat back down, adjusting his camera so the viewers could be treated to a full view of his overdue belly. “Oof, that was tougher than I thought, I guess I’m getting pretty out of shape huh?” He chuckled before glancing back at his monitor. He saw a request to get onto his bed and immediately took it, those jumping jacks certainly did a number on his back. This odd pain began to spread at the base of it, radiating upwards. But he ignored it, after all who doesn’t have back pain when they were as overdue as he was.He leaned against the plush pillows of his bed, propping his belly up like a cake in a display case. He glanced at a particular donation and grinned mischievously. It was a challenge he’d done quite a few times before.

He had a small vibrater that he had programmed to raise in one level of speed and intensity every time someone donated over 1,000 dollars. It had been a staple prop in his shows for a while now but he hadn’t used it since he hit 36 weeks, afraid to set off labor. However since the amount of money needed to raise the level was so high, he reasoned it would probably stay at a pretty tolerable level of stimulation. “No I am not lowering the level raising price.” He giggled as he slipped the little toy between the very small allowance between his lingerie. It was so tight even the small vibrator fit snugly and secure in his panties. “This is our last show for a bit, don’t go cheaping out on me.” He added a little pout as a flourish.

Then a devious little idea popped into his head.He leaned against the pillows and adjusted his hips so the audience could see the bulge of the vibrator in his semi transparent panties. “I’m so worried though, I heard too much stimulation can cause someone to go into labor,” he purred and stroked his ripe belly. “I really hope that doesn’t happen.” Eli smirked internally. The vibrator had ten levels, and it was incredibly rare for it to ever get above a 5 in a single show, especially considering certain patrons would pay to interrupt the portion to get him to do other acts, resetting the donations. He knew even a 5 may be a little intense for him this late in his pregnancy, but he was certain he could handle it. He was a professional.The first donations flow in, probably brought on by his teasing.

They come faster than usual but not intolerably so, even in Eli’s gravid state. Despite this he makes a show of it, sitting up and rocking his hips, moaning softly as the vibrations echo throughout him. He feels his stomach tighten from the sudden shift but simply continues to rock his hips, it helps with the odd pressure forming at his pelvis.“Oof, guess I’m extra sensitive today guys, only level 1 and I’m already feeling it.” He smiled, tracing hearts along the overstretched skin of his belly button.

As he rode his way through the vibrations he decided to answer some questions.“No, the doctor said he doesn’t think it’s twins. Just one big guy.” He chuckled, reading through further. “Oh come on, don’t underestimate me. I can totally give birth to them naturally. I know my hips are a little narrow but I’ll be getting an epidural so it’ll be fine.” The chat seemed a little disappointed at that and Eli smirked a little too smugly. “What, did you guys want me to give birth on stream? That’s a little far even for me.” For some reason donations started to flood in after that, brutally fast, as if Eli taunts had only encouraged them.

Eli’s performative panting and moans began to transform into genuine guttural sounds as he felt the pressure build around the base of his abandoning. His belly seemed to squeeze with every new donation, a constant war between the pleasure of the vibrations and the pain of these odd sensations. And then it hit him. He was in labor. The thought quickly made him spiral before he realized a few things. This was his first baby, and first babies are known to take forever and his water hadn’t even broken yet. He was fine to wrap up the show.Besides he was making more money now than he ever had. Even an hour more could mean thousands of dollars. But as the vibrator began to approach level 4 he panted a few shallow breaths. The little squeezes were becoming big- long squeezes, so intense they were visible on his belly from the monitor. His stomach now sat between his thighs, low and heavy.

“Ok guys I think we’re gonna wrap up soon. I think I’m in labor.” Perhaps his chat thought he was doing some sort of roleplay thing because that really made the donations go haywire. Hundreds of dollars at a time skyrocketed him up to level 5, causing his entire body to become jelly like- moaning lewdly. “Fuck, guys I’m serious.” He panted, rubbing a hand from the base of his contracting belly to the top, feeling how rock hard the surface was. “Hooo look,” he stammered out, poking his belly for emphasis, showing the camera the state of his baby bump, stretched beyond its limits and wracked with contractions.

He kept trying to reach for his camera, or his monitor to shut off the stream but each new donation and each new contraction kept his nailed down, clenching around nothing. “Ooo fuck guys.. hooo, owww,” he moaned, moving again before immediately realising what a horrible idea that was.Sitting up in it of itself was a struggle on a good day, sitting up with a vibrator in him and a baby thrashing around was nearly impossible. He attempted to wade through the mixture of agony of bliss, rocking his hips in a circular motion.

Unfortunately this only seemed to encourage his babies descent, and before he knew it, he felt the whole weight of the baby on his pelvis, pressing against his cervix. Little by little he was managing to sit up, having to lay back slightly every time a new donation or contraction came in. But eventually he was able to make it right to the button on his pc, finger hovering over it and then-

Optimus_Alpha donated $4,000!

Pop!

Just like that his progress was halted and he threw his head back in a combination of ecstasy and agony. Not only had the vibrator been brought up to its maximum level in the span of a minute, but the pure shock of it caused his water to break, amniotic fluid soaking his bed and his beautiful white lingerie. His brain started to panic, before instinct set in and he almost forgot that he had an audience, with more flooding in each minute. Thousands of viewers, all about to lay witness to the birth of a new life. “Hooo fuckkkk-“ Eli moaned gutturally, attempting to shove off his panties as he felt them bulge. But it was useless, they were just too tight.

He needed scissors or something, but he would be amiss if he ruined such a perfect pair of panties.So instead he focused on slow pushes, panting heavily as he managed to push the lacy lingerie off. It was an agonizing process, his mind hazy with pain throughout, but eventually the panties lay at his swollen ankles and he was able to remove that damn vibrator. Now that his panties were off his viewers received a full view of his bulging exit, swollen and dangerously stretched over the baby’s massive head. He stroked the area with a free hand, gasping as he felt the sliver of head stretch him, a bit of dark hair peeking out.

“Ohhh fuck fuck he’s so big, he’s too big.” Eli cursed, clutching his belly. He was wracked by constant contractions now, and with no vibration to distract him he was forced to confront the full pain of childbirth.

He pushed and squeezed until his face grew a shade of bright red, stroking his belly with one hand and the fiery ring of hell that was his nether regions with the other, helping to stretch the area. The burn was terrible, like nothing he had ever felt, and he became lost in it, bearing down and pushing like his life depended on it.He clutched at his ruined silk sheets as he bore down for one brutal push before he heard a satisfying pop of the baby's head dislodging. He met momentary relief before having to pant out the shoulders, adjusting himself into a low squat to accommodate the rest of the baby's body. With the shoulders out the feet quickly followed and the not so little baby that emerged from him started to cry.

Eli collapsed onto his pillows, cradling his 12 pound infant to his chest. He laughed tiredly before laying a kiss on the babies forehead. “Well aren’t you a cutie?” He sat their peacefully for a moment before he heard his computer ding, signaling the 3 hour mark of the stream. Shit. He forgot to turn the damn thing off. “Umm.” He smiled nervously. “I told you today was a special show?” Honestly, it was a net positive. The money he made from that stream was enough to go on maternity leave for a loooong time.

#birth denial #birth kink #pregnancy kink #long birth #labor denial #labor kink #birth rp #heavily pregnant #labor rp #giving birth #live birth #mpreg birth #overdue pregnancy #big pregnant belly #minors dni

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mj0702 · 6 months ago

Text

You walked with your girlfriend and Magda around the field after the Lioness vs. Sweden game talking to Magda when G stopped taking some pictures with fans and signing some stuff. You and Magda stopped about three steps away from Georgia when you heard something you couldn't quite place. So you went over to the area Magda right behind you as Georgia looked absolutely lost

“What's the matter?” you asked trying to act like a normal staff member since no one knew you and G were in a relationship “Everything okay?”

“Yeah... good... we just... bench” your girlfriend said stressed already pushing you back a little

“G... what's going on” you mumbled as she pushed you in front of her

“MAGDA!!!” Georgia yelled signalling the swede to follow “Give me a minute”

Your girlfriend pushed you quickly into the tunnel where she waited for Magda to catch up

“I need a phone... or a tablet or something connected to the Wi-Fi” your girlfriend looked around quickly and you saw how distressed she was

“Benji... tablet” you quickly said as one of the tactical staff members passed.

He quickly handed over his tablet to you and you passed it on to Georgia who immediately tried to unlock it just to hand it back to you groaning

“Babe please” your girlfriend groaned getting more and more squirmy

“Here” you handed the unlocked piece of electronic back to her looking confused when she quickly pulled up one of the other teams game

“Mind telling us what got you so freaked out??” you asked raising your eyebrows

“One of the fans I took a picture with... she said she's sorry about what happened to Lena and she hopes that she's okay” Georgia mumbled pulling up the live ticker to look when what exactly happened

“Obi?” you asked “Didn't they play... who was it? Italy?”

“Austria... still playing... 68'...” your girlfriend mumbled concentrated “And yes... Lena”

“Why am I here?” Magda asked now confused looking onto the tablet her head coming out between yours and Georgias

“Fuck me!” Georgia suddenly exclaimed her hand quickly covering her mouth

“Jesus” Magda exclaimed shocked

“What?” you asked looking back down on the screen as you were quickly distracted by one of the Swedes passing the trio of you.

But in that second you saw Lena on the ground clutching her knee before the replay was played. You saw how Lena went in for the block and how her right leg was planted into the field. You saw how she moved her upper body to the left and then it happened – you immediately saw how the patella quickly plopped back into place and how Lena collapsed to the ground

“Lucy!!” you yelled running back out onto the field scanning it quickly before you spotted your sister down at the corner flag smiling up at some fans signing Jerseys and stuff

“LUCY!!!” you yelled again already taking off in her direction when your sister head snapped towards your voice

“What's wrong Bubs?” Lucy came running meeting you just short of the middle line

“I need a flight to... wherever Germany played today... somewhere in Germanys” you panted

“What?” your sister asked confused

“I need a flight to Germany... long story short... I need your Credit card” you breaths coming out laboured

“What are you talking about?” your sister asked firmly

“Lena Oberdorf... she got injured today... I need a flight to Germany” you quickly explained

“And why exactly...” your sister started to question you curiously

“... I know Bayern... they'll want her back in Munich...where she has basically no one” you interrupted Lucy quickly

“Come on Bubs... you can't just fuck off because of... I don't know... a sprained ankle” Lucy rolled her eyes

“It's not the ankle Luce... it's the knee” you said quietly looking your sister straight into the eyes

“The knee??” your sister looked confused until she got your hint “Fuck... the KNEE??”

“Yeah... she has no one there you know...” you nodded grateful your sister got the point

“Talk to Sarina... I'll book you the first flight out tomorrow morning...” Lucy said “... and before you argue... you can't do anything tonight anyway... you know it yourself – they put her on drugs and ship her out tomorrow”

“Yeah I know...” you sighed defeated accepting the open arms and sank into your sisters embrace “... thanks Luce”

“Always Bubs....” your sister smiled pressing a soft kiss to your temple “... you got a heart of gold you know that?”

“I just know how it feels...” you mumbled against her shoulder “... not the being alone part but the ground getting ripped away from under your feet... I can't imagen how it must feel knowing that no one will be there waiting for you when you get the diagnosis or waking up alone”

“Go talk to Sarina Bubs...” Lucy said softly “... you know she'll let you go but you can't just piss off okay”

“Yeah...” you said quietly “... need to talk to G too”

“Bubs.. you need to calm down....” your sister said tiredly next morning when you entered London Heathrow airport “... it's too early... I can't deal with your nervous freak out at the crack ass of dawn”

“Keira offered to take me...” you grumbled still being tired yourself “... you said you wanted to take me... Keira would have me calm by now”

“That's why I came separately” Keira suddenly said behind you holding two coffee cups pushing one of them into your hands

“Where is my coffee??” Lucy asked upset

“Still in the coffee machine at Starbucks...” Keira deadpanned while you thanked every coffee god in this universe for Keira Walsh

“You're so mean...” your sister grumbled at her ex “... that Austrian changed you”

“Just like that spaniard changed you... never heard you complain so much about the english weather – you grew up here” the blonde shot back making you snort

“Yeah well... the warmer weather is better for me old bones” Lucy tried to defend herself pouting

“Mhm...” Keira just smirked taking a sip from her coffee

“Leave me alone...” your sister grumbled as she just took Keiras coffee out of her hand “... it's too early”

“Can you two get divorced later... I have a flight to catch” you said immediately getting nervous again

“You'll do good Bitsy... you're a pro now” Keira said softly guiding you to the security check “... it's the same routine every time... security... find your gate... get on plane... get off plane... don't get lost in city you got off plane okay?”

“G wrote me down the way to the Bayern trainings centre...” you said confident

“I'll get you the number from someone who's there... I'll arrange a pick up” Keira said knowing how well Georgia works with directions and navigations – not well at all. Georgia and navigating someone normally ended up in a disaster

“Thank you” you smiled tiredly “... I didn't have the heart to tell her since it took her half the night”

“No problem...” the blonde smiled back

“You need to go Bubs...” Lucy gently nudged you forward and you recutlanty took a step forward

“Go on Bits... you're a regular flyer by now...” Keira smiled encouraging “... we seriously need to think about getting you into the mileage program”

“Yeah well...” you mumbled “... I already ticked the mile high club box”

“EXCUSE ME?” Lucy spit out her mouth full of coffee looking at you shocked while Keira bursted out laughing

“I need to go now...” you quickly said speed walking into the security area

“BUBS!!! COME BACK HERE!!!” your sister yelled after you “IMMEDIATLEY!!!”

You turned your phone on the second the plane came to a halt at the big Munich airport. The flight was surprisingly relaxing and you have to give it to Keira – she was right. You kinda got the flying thing down now. As soon as your phone connected with the Airport Wi-Fi your phone exploded with messages from Lucy, Keira, Georgia, Magda and surprisingly Pernille who asked you to keep her up to date considering Lena. You answered Pernille first since she had send the calmest message from all. Next was Keira who just wanted to know if you landed and if the flight was okay or if you had an anxiety attack again. After Keira you texted Magda who just asked you if you could water her cactus and you just answered with a middle finger emoji. Then you texted your girlfriend that everything was fine and you were about to leave the plane. Lucy came last since she send about 20 texts in the 85 minutes you were in the air. You just copy pasted the text you sent your girlfriend politely ignoring her questioning about the mile high comment.

As you exit the plane Keira texted you back that she organized Franzi Kett to pick you up and attached the forwards number. You tried your best to text in the little german your girlfriend taught you just for Franzi to answer in english. She told you exactly which way to go and where you two would meet up and by god – so much better than Georgias directions

“Hey Franzi” you said quietly when trying to not attract any attention

“Hey y/n” the young blonde smiled back friendly “You had a good flight?”

“G already briefed you?” you chuckled

“That too yeah...” the blonde chuckled “... but also I thought you might want to have small talk?”

“How's Lena?” you asked as you followed the blonde to the parking lot

“I don't know... I honestly don't know” Franzi said shrugging her shoulders apologetic

“Do you have any kind of information?” you asked hopefully getting into the black sleek Audi

“I know she'll be flown in today... I don't know when tho...” the blonde said as she quickly exit the car park “... where should I let you out? Gs apartment?”

“Mind driving me to the academy?” you asked trying not to flinch as Franzi got on the motorway speeding up quickly

“No problem... Alex should be around viewing some of the second team” Franzi smiled as she quickly cut to the right lane taking the next exit

“Girl I swear you drive like a lunatic” you panted out as the car slowed down stopping at a red light

“Why? I drove good?” the blonde looked at you confused

“So fast and so unapologetic” you huffed

“It was just 160...” Franzi shook her head

“You seriously are mentally not stable” you said but then squeaked when the car shot forward as the lights turn green

You quickly talked to Alex getting all the information you needed before recuting Franzi as your taxi driver again. The young player was happy to chauffeur driving safely through the Munich traffic driving you to a better looking neighbourhood parking the car

“What are we doing here?” you asked confused as you got out of the car

“There... that's the clinic you told me to go to” Franzi pointed at a bigger building behind you

“THAT'S a clinic?? You Germans don't have normal hospitals?” you exclaimed shocked

“We do” the blonde deadpanned “... that's a private clinic... very expensive... very exclusive”

“Damn girl...” you looked around when you entered the building “... it's like exploring a different world”

“Nice isn't it?” Franzi asked

“Sí” you mumbled not even noticing you switched to spanish

“Hi... wir sind hier wegen Lena Oberdorf” Franzi smiled nicely at the receptionist

“Entschuldigung aber ich kann Ihnen keine Auskunft über Patienten geben” the young lad answered and your head started to hurt already having to listen to them speaking german

“Wir wollen keine informationen...” the blonde said her voice still friendly “... aber wenn Sie vielleicht organisieren könnten dass sie weiß das wir hier sind... Franzi Kett und Y/n Bronze”

“Geben Sie mir eine Minute” the lad smiled grabbing the phone

“What the hell??” you mumbled

“What?” Franzi looked at you a little concerned

“Since when do you speak fluent german?” you asked forgetting that Franzi was German

“I was born here... I lived in lower Bavaria my whole...” the blonde looked at you like you're having a stroke

“Oooooh riiiiiight...” you slapped your forehead “... I always forget that”

“Ehrm... Tschuldigung??” the receptionist perked up “... Ich hab oben bescheid gegeben und wenn ihr versprecht kein Blödsinn zu machen lass ich euch hoch in den Wartebereich”

“Oh vielen Dank...” Franzi sighed out and you figured it was good news when she turned to you “Come on... we're allowed to wait upstairs”

“Did you see that??!!” you whisper yelled as you exit the elevator and Franzi laughed quietly “... they had a whole ass Fanta machine... different flavours”

“Yes I saw....” the blonde laughed as quietly as she could

“I need one of those” you said seriously

“You won't be able to pay for them” Franzi laughed as she sat down on one of the comfortable looking chairs in the waiting... lounge

“Beanbags??? They have beanbags in their waiting area???” you exclaimed bewildered “I'm gonna move in here... or steal one.. two... G needs one too”

“Just sit down.... this will take a while” the young blonde rolled her eyes as she snatched one of the magazines laying around

“I'm going to get a Fanta” you said already turning around

“No” Franzi jumped up quickly blocking the exit “... I have strict orders to not leave you out of my sight... and honestly... I'm scared of Pernille”

“Ugh... fun sucker all of you” you rolled your eyes falling back into the beanbag

“Seid ihr hier für Lena?” a nice looking nurse asked a while later

“Ja... ich bin Franzi... eine Teamkollegin...” Franzi jumped up smiling

“Again with that German... worse than all them spaniards” you mumbled

“Okay... so only one of us is allowed in her room... so I told Nadine over here you'll go... if you need me to pick you up text me okay” the blonde said

“But you...” you started confused but Franzi immediately shook her head

“No... I have a feeling you'll be more use here”

“Thank you” you smiled but it was a sad one before you followed the nurse down the hallway

You carefully entered the hospital room – not a normal room. The colours where friendly – a light green and yellow with accents in light blue. The interior was in a light wood. All in all it was just light and airy and beautiful and calm.

“Hey Walmart for poor” you said quietly as you slowly approached the bed wincing slightly as you saw the big cast covering Lenas leg

“What do you want?” the new Bayern player said coldly

“Just was in the neighbourhood and thought I stop by” you shrugged your shoulders pulling a chair over as the brown haired woman turned her head looking away from you

“I don't know why you're even here... I don't have anything to tell you... they're still looking over the pictures” Lena mumbled

“Lesbi-honest here... both of us don't need any confirmation or pictures...” you sighed deeply “... I know it and you know it too”

“Maybe it's just twisted very badly” Lena said quickly but you heard her voice break a little at the end

“Lena...” you said softly grabbing her hand

“You don't know how...” the dark haired snapped at you making you snort

“I'm probably the only one who knows..” you snorted

“How could you understand?” Lena said and you knew her leashing out at you was a normal reaction

“I had three... that's why I'm not playing... that's why I'll never stand in Wembley at a Euros final with the three lions on my chest or representing my country at a world cup... I can walk... I can kick around a little bit but my knees won't be able to hold the pressure of a professional career” you said blankly “... so I understand how you feel”

“I didn't...” the brown haired woman looked at you shocked

“Not many people know... but that's not why I'm here...” you said seriously “... I'm here because you'll need a support system... You have your family yes... but you'll need people around you who know what you're going through... you're going to struggle... big time I promise you that... and I don't even mean the physical struggle... I mean the mental one... you'll have days and nights where suddenly thoughts pop up that scare you – they make you being scared of yourself. But you need to trust someone and talk to them. Also... rehab is going to be a bitch – but I promise I'll be there... and with me you have all the top players behind you... and if you even THINK about giving up I'll tell on you at Alexias and believe me... she has way to much fun at kicking asses to let this opportunity go to waste”

“Are you sure?” Lena asked and you knew what she asked

“99.9%... the way your patella snapped back... the angle your foot was planted into the pitch versus where your upper body was and the movement you made...” you looked straight at her and suddenly she turned your head away from you her free arm came up to cover her eyes and you heard that chocked up sob

You didn't talk or trying to make a joke. You just held her hand letting her cry all the bottled up emotion out. It took a while but she suddenly grabbed your hand harder and you squeezed back in a silent understanding and support. A little bit after that there was a low knock on the door and Lena called out breaching herself for the “news”

“So we're going to take a part of your hamstring and replace the ripped ligament with it...” the Surgeon explained and you snorted what make Lena look at you questioning

“That might work for the Anterior work but what about the knee ligament....” you questioned the Doctor

“We use a artificial tendon” the surgeon looked at you a little grumpily

“And how do you want to fix it in there... you need to screw the prosthesis for the artificial to the bone and theoretically the inner would run straight over it... but if you put an artificial in her body could either reject it or it rubs over the prosthesis and rips again as soon as she's ready to start playing again OR you already plan on a second surgery in about 6 weeks what would throw her recovery back... so you go back out there find an acceptable solution and THEN you come back and present it to me... otherwise I have no problem to get my own surgeon here so I'm sure she gets the best possible treatment and I'll also make sure the high dogs in the Club will hear about it” you went all out on him knowing what he tried to sell to Lena was absolute bullshit

“Ehrm” the surgeon looked at you shocked as you pointed towards the door

“Door is there... if you don't come up with up a solution by tonight I'll get my surgeon here... she knows what she's doing... fixed me three times... so... what to you Germans always say? Zack zack” you said coldly and the middle aged man stumbled outside

“Wow... what...” Lena looked at you shocked as you pulled your mobile out holding your finger up

“Teddy... you have plans tomorrow??” you said as soon as the call connected “Yeah... hi... nice to speak to you... I'm fine... you too? Great.. so... plans tomorrow..... day off? Perfect... I have a present for you” you grinned at the german player

“I'm scared” Lena looked up at you her bed right in front of the OR

“I know...” you said smiling a little grabbing the hand that she reached out to you “But I promise you... Teddy is the best out there... I mean she had a lot of practise with me”

“You're horrible” Lena snorted

“Thank you.... normally people call me a bitch” you grinned back

“I call you Christmas present” a female voice behind you said and you looked up to look into your surgeons smirking face “Every time I open you up there's something new to explore”

“You better not fuck this up or I'll find someone new to scrap me ligaments” you threatened her smirking back

“Pff... as if anyone would take your broken body on their chart” the dark blonde waved off before entering the OR “Last minute”

“I'll be here when you wake up okay...” you promised Lena when the OR nurses came to push her inside “... and I'll take a lot of embarrassing videos of you being high as fuck and blackmail you with them later”

“You wouldn't dare” Lena said shocked

“It's family tradition” you smiled as the young player got rolled into the OR and as you were about to leave Teddy stuck her head through the door

“You want to watch from the other room?” the surgeon asked you “It's gonna take around three hours...”

“I trust you Teds... her and G are friends... and that makes her my friend too....” you said seriously “.. I'll be at that Fanta machine if someone looks at you”

#woso image #lena oberdorf #lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #georgia stanway x reader

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