#my testing journey starts next month :')

[sapphiclizziebennet]

me several years ago: hahaha i'm so self aware there's no way anything else could come up in terms of mental diagnoses!

my undiagnosed autism:

[targaryen-dynasty]

MINE AND MINE ONLY.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Aemond has gotten you pregnant six months ago, and seeing him with his infant niece during dinner with his family sparks something inside of you only he can satisfy.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, face sitting, slight anal play, slight breeding kink, pregnant sex, slight lactation kink

WORDS: 4.9 K

NOTES: Sorry, I’m kinda in baby fever right now don’t ask me why. 😭 This also is my gift for hitting 1850 followers a few days ago, which means I’m finally where I’ve been before deleting my old blog. Thanks for everyone following me on this journey. 🫶🏻

The days between Christmas and New Years usually are meant for people to take some much-needed downtime from the stress of the past days or weeks – unless you are a Targaryen or married to one. 

It’s the fourth year in a row you’re spending one, sometimes even two, days at the large Targaryen mansion with every member of their family present. 

What started as an opportunity to celebrate the New Year early with her family four years ago, since Viserys and Alicent wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve on a yacht somewhere in the Sea of Dorne back then, has quickly turned into a tradition that no one could escape. 

Not even the six-month pregnant you. 

As an excuse to not travel to the family’s vacation home on Dragonstone, Aemond has begged for you to allow him to tell his mother that your back pain has gotten so bad you couldn’t sit in the car for four hours. 

The fact that he didn’t fall to his knees while doing it was everything. 

But you have told him no, seeing that your back pains have eased two weeks ago, and it is one of the rare occasions he gets to spend with his whole family, not just his mother’s side. 

If he wants to or not. 

“And how are you spending New Year’s?” you ask, lounging in the burgundy Lawson chair. 

Helaena sits in the chair next to yours, fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass. Every now and then you spot her lilac eyes flickering to your protruding bump, accentuated by the tight slip dress you wear. 

“This year we’re embracing a night in,” she answers, nursing her alcohol-free wine. “Cregan doesn’t want to leave the children with his parents, since Lyanna is still breastfeeding, and Edrick doesn’t want to go without his little sister.”

You nod along to her words, smiling softly at the mention of her sons‘ protectiveness, and glance past her to Aemond, Aegon and Cregan. The men are standing close to the fireplace, glasses of whiskey between their fingers. Normally, they would be tipsy by now – some more than others – if it wasn’t for the infant cradled in Cregan’s strong arms. 

Helaena follows your line of sight, the turning of her head prompting you to look at her again. 

“What are your plans?” she asks. 

You pucker your lips slightly, looking down at the glass of water you‘ve rested on your belly before meeting her eyes. 

“Aegon has invited us to a party in White Harbor, a formal dinner with some of his friends. We wanted to go, because the place is stunning and it’s overlooking the iconic harbor fireworks, but it’s such a long drive, and Aemond doesn’t want to risk anything by us taking the plane,” you sigh, “so, we’ll probably stay at home or just go out for dinner.”

Ever since you’ve handed him the gift box containing four identical, positive pregnancy tests, Aemond has taken over a protective aura and has found it incredibly difficult to keep his hands off of you. 

It’s a miracle he was able to talk to his brother and brother-in-law for so long without checking in on you once. 

But speak of the devil. 

What you aren’t expecting when Aemond makes his way over to where you’re conversing with his sister, is the little infant in his arms. Her head rests against his shoulder, while one of his large hands supports it and neck, and the other supports her bottom. 

He’s swaying her gently as he walks over, a proud smile on his lips as he can’t tear his eyes off of his niece, coming to stand next to Helaena’s chair. The sight makes your heart swell with love. 

Cregan trails behind him, and your eyes briefly fall to the abandoned Aegon still standing at the fireplace and balancing their three glasses in his hands. 

“Honey,” the Northener’s gruff voice rings out, “your mother said that Edrick’s made a mess. Could you change him while I clean up?” Still standing offset behind your husband, Cregan pats Aemond on the shoulder once. “Our girl’s in good hands, and Aemy here can already practice for what awaits him soon.”

Helaena raises her eyebrows, before snickering at her husband’s remark. She bows her head once, smiling at you, “excuse me, Y/N.”

“We’ll talk later,” you assure her. 

She brushes her hand over your swollen belly once as she rises, Cregan’s hand on the small of her back urging her out of the living space. 

Aemond carefully sinks into the chair, and changes the position of the sleeping infant so she’s cradled in his arms. 

“What have you been up to?” he asks, finally moving his head to look at you. 

You were wearing a knitted sweater over your dress when you two arrived a few hours earlier, but with hot flashes attacking you every now and then, you have long opted to slip out of it and hang the sweater over a chair. 

And the outfit change clearly is only now noticed by him.

His lilac eyes flickered between yours and your full breasts, and you can literally see the gears turning in his head. 

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he states, full on staring at your breasts. 

Fine, maybe you have also done it to tease him a bit. 

A blush creeps onto his cheeks, running down his neck, and he slightly shifts in his seat, turning his gaze away as he clears his throat. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from curling into a smile, you quickly shush the urge by taking a swig of your water. “Wasn’t keen on spending the evening unable to think of anything else than how sore and uncomfortable I feel,” you tease. “Are you complaining?”

Aemond raises one hand in defeat, “certainly not, just pointing it out.”

You teasingly reach and bring your index finger to his chin, tilting it up for his eyes to meet yours again. “Then you better stop staring, we're not the only ones here.” 

You glance briefly at the gathered party around you, watching Alicent chat with Rhaenyra and her husband, while Aegon seems to be deep in a conversation with Daemon, no doubt talking about the latest match between the Casterly Rock Lions and the Oldtown Saints.

“Fair enough,” he answered with a low chuckle. 

The soft coos of his niece catch your attention, and you lean forwards to gauge at the little bundle. She’s stirring lightly in her sleep, grimaces and smiles alike gracing her scrunched features. Aemond brushes her cheek with his knuckles in feather light touches, until her coos are interrupted, and wide, blue eyes stare up at him. 

Lyanna smacks her lips slowly, bringing her small hand up to her mouth. “What is she doing?” Aemond whispers, not daring to pull his eyes away from her in case she starts to cry. 

“She’s hungry,” you answer with a chuckle, grinning as you notice his helplessness. 

It’s so brief, but you spot his eyes flickering towards your full breasts, and you have to stop yourself from hitting his shoulder. One wrong word. 

“You know there are barely four months left until your life looks like this, too, right?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“I do, but they have not yet told us about this at the prenatal class.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not your first niece, and she’s not even crying.”

The sigh of relief Aemond releases as he spots Helaena’s silver hair in the far distance has you shaking your head, bringing your index finger up to your smiling lips. 

“How did you three get on?” Helaena asks, noticing that her daughter is awake. 

Your husband rises to his feet, and hands his niece over to her. “Easy, she’s just woken up and seems really hungry,” he notes, as if he has figured it out all by himself. “And how did you fare?”

Helaena releases a dry chuckle, brushing her free hand up and down Aemond’s biceps. “I’ll tell you another time, don’t want to scare you.“ She briefly glances over at you. “Just know that Creg has to bathe him right now, because the wet wipes were useless.”

The grimace on Aemond’s face at his sister’s words has you choking on a laugh. 

Lyanna starts to whine and wiggle in her mother’s grasp, getting her attention. “Sorry again, it’s feeding time, obviously,” she states, muttering the last word under her breath, and shoots you an apologetic gaze before scurrying off. 

You hold out a hand, and knowing what it means, Aemond takes it to help you up from the chair. 

His heart melts at the sight of you before him, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you against his side as he brushes his hand over the gentle swell of your belly in tender affection. There were shy kicks meeting his hand, making him grin.

You return the embrace, and lean yourself against his frame, your head resting on his chest. “It’s different when it’s your own child, you know,” you say, the small glimmer of a smile blessing your features. 

His head dips forwards, and he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling the words against your skin, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

—

Aemond has his arm slung around your waist as everyone has gathered in the vast living space to watch the children perform a play they have practiced. 

Alicent, ever the proud grandmother, clings to Viserys as they watch in awe what the children of Rhaenyra have been up to. An oblivious Edrick appears in the middle of it all, but before Cregan can scoop him up, the little Viserys has taken his hands to include him in their mischief. 

“Have I already told you how good you look today?” Aemond whispers, his head dipping forwards so his lips are level with your ear. He rubs your bump gently, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes. 

You shiver from his touch, your body tingling from the attention your husband gives you. “You’re not paying attention,” you scold softly, nodding towards the children in the middle. A teenage Jacaerys, as well as Daemon’s daughters from his first marriage, stand before you, your view of the play slightly concealed. 

“I can’t help myself,” he whispers huskily, “you’re just too distracting, Mommy.” A smirk tugs on his lips as the name leaves them, and the sight is only topped by him leaning in to brush his lips over your ear, before they press to the sensitive skin behind it. The very spot that always makes you putty in his hands, and with your hormones in full swing, it does a little more than just melt you. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, though he can also hear the trace of a moan in it, “easy.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and the ring of his baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine, “we should go to bed early tonight.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his words. It’s his subtle way to ask for something without directly asking, though you know exactly what he means. You lean into him, pressing yourself against his side. 

Biting the tip of your tongue, it was impossible for you to stop your lips from pulling into a mischievous smirk. 

“Do you think your mother will notice if we leave now?” you ask, innocently. 

You’re greeted with a wide grin when your eyes meet Aemond’s, and the arm he has wrapped around you tightens just more, keeping you against his frame. 

His lips brush your ear again, trailing down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “If she does, she can tell me later,” he raps into your ear, “besides, we wouldn‘t be gone for too long, sweetheart. Just long enough for a little… alone time. Who could blame us for wanting to savor the last weeks where it’s only the two of us, mh?”

Aemond looks around one last time, noticing how everyone around you is mostly focused on the children’s show. 

Bringing his hand to the small of your back, he gently guides you through the crowd of his relatives, before you’re on the way to his childhood bedroom. 

It’s furnished in a minimalistic style, making it obvious that Alicent has spent some time decluttering her children’s rooms to make them more presentable for whenever guests stay over. The room basically is Aemond’s, and the rest belongs to Alicent. 

Walking in behind you, he locks the door. You look around briefly before his firm chest is flush against your back with his arms around your waist, resting on your bump. He presses his lips to the curve of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, and a shuddered breath to escape your throat. 

The feeling of his hard, clothed cock against the curve of your ass drives you to insanity, making you eager for more. He grinds against you as his fingers travel over your curves, and greedily fist the fabric of your dress. 

“Let me help you undress, Mama,” he rasps against your skin, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

When he sinks to his knees behind you, you whimper quietly, immediately missing the heat of his breath and lips on your body. 

“Aemond,” you breathe, looking down at him as he pushes your dress up. 

The dumbfounded look that crosses his features with the skirt of your dress rucked up just shy beneath your bump has you chuckling, realization settling in. 

“You went commando?” 

Biting your bottom lip, you can basically see his excitement building, the bulge in the front of his slacks quite obvious despite him kneeling. “I was feeling… adventurous today,” you hum, a glint of mischief in your eyes. 

He can’t help but to grin at your comment, and, on his way up, Aemond starts to press several kisses to the outside of your thigh, his fingers following in their trail. 

Standing to full height again, looming over you, he keeps his hand beneath your bump, his fingers caressing your pubic mound. 

You squeeze your thighs together in a desperate attempt to soothe the aching at the apex of them, since his fingers aren’t touching you where you need them most. An anticipating moan slips past your lips, a shiver shaking your core. 

“I hope you’re prepared for me to be just as adventurous,” he hums, “... and thorough.”

His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress, tugging them off your shoulders to push the elastic fabric down your curves and onto the ground. It’s pooling around your ankles in a white puddle, leaving you completely bare to him with just a few touches. 

You shudder under his intense gaze, practically devouring you with just his lilac eyes, and try to break the tension by pulling him in for a kiss. 

You turn around mid-kiss, your protruding belly a barrier between your bodies. Before your hands can entangle into his strands, Aemond catches them and intertwines your fingers. He creates a small distance between your bodies, taking a few steps back and pulling you with him. 

His steps are deliberately slow, careful, and you’re encouraged to climb his lap as he sits down at the edge of the bed. Both his feet are firmly planted on the ground, supporting your swollen body. 

He groans as you trap him between your legs, his hands roaming your curves almost immediately. The knowledge that he was the one responsible for the changes of your body, and that everybody else knew that as well, does something to him, making him all the more hungry for you. 

It was even more addicting to see you sit astride him like a goddess, ready to claim what was yours already anyways. Him.

Feeling his clothed member throb beneath you, the urge to grind above him is as inviting as never, and you’re more than ready to give into the urge. Your wetness soaks his slacks, and the groan Aemond releases at the friction has you whimpering with him. 

Your lips meet for a fervent kiss, and while your hands rest on his shoulders, his are eager to explore the swell of your belly. His tongue finds its way past your lips, swirling around yours in a way that turns the kiss into all teeth and tongue. 

Dragging your teeth over his kiss swollen bottom lip, he tilts his head upwards and nudges the tip of his nose against yours. You lick over his lips once, but when you lean in to connect your lips again, Aemond stops you with his hand around your throat. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rasps, his voice husky. 

You haven’t sat on his face in weeks, or rather ever since the round ligament pain kicked in and made even the simplest daily tasks difficult for you. 

Your eyes widen. “But– I–”

“No, you’re not too heavy,” he interrupts, cocking one eyebrow at you. 

There’s not even a chance for you to reject before he lies down and hooks his hands beneath your thighs, hoisting you up and pulling you towards his face. You sit on his chest, barely seeing his chiseled features from under your bump. 

As the position you are in truly settles in your mind, a bright blush starts to cover the apples of your cheeks. His angelic looks don't help either, strands of silver hair splayed out around his head like a halo, and his piercing lilac eyes fixed on you and you only. “But you tell me when it gets too much, no?” you ask, coyly. 

Aemond rubs his hands over your bare thighs in comfort, nodding. “Always.” Deep down you know it’s a lie, because he has told you on more than one occasion that he’d gladly leave the world suffocated by your delicious pussy, but you trust the feigned security he offers. 

“No promises about how long I’ll last, though,” you tell him. 

A gentle pat to your thigh is what has you eventually inching forwards until your knees are on either side of his head. 

With your bump being quite protruding, you can’t even see him anymore, you only hear his groans and growls when you cautiously settle in the new position.

The attempt to slightly hover your pussy over his face is fruitless the moment your husband’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you down onto his face. Just his nose perfectly teasing your clit has you moaning out loudly already, even though he hasn’t even used his tongue yet. 

And then it follows. 

Aemond greedily laps at your entrance as his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place and playing you like a fiddle. It circles around your clenching hole, teasing it but never one dipping it inside. 

You clench around nothing, and bring one hand to your bump while the other just rests above his hand on your hip, squeezing it. Chasing the friction and warmth of his tongue, you rock your hips back and forth as much as his grip allows, coaxing whimpers and mewls to leave your lips.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, the grip of your thighs around his face tightening. “I–I forgot how good you are at this.”

Seemingly keening at your praise, you’re almost disappointed when he pulls his hand off of yours to cup your ass cheeks, yanking you impossibly closer. The groans that vibrate against your pussy send shivers up your spine that make you lose yourself in the pleasure, not focusing on where his hands are. 

At this point, Aemond was feasting at you like a man starved, all but devouring you with newfound vigor. His nose flicks against your clit with expert precision every time he tilts his head or you move your hips, drawing you closer to your orgasm. 

His index finger comes into play, teasing your throbbing folds for a split second. His true intentions, however, only show the moment it starts to circle around your other hole. 

“Fuck, Aemond, I-” you manage as he carefully dips his finger into your hole, the added stimulation almost immediately tightening the coil in your belly. A muffled groan of appreciation shakes your core as he feels your unused hole tighten around his finger. 

You roll your hips against Aemond’s mouth on the race to completion, any thoughts of being too heavy for him long gone, and replaced by nothing else than raw need and desire. 

It’s almost too much. Straddling the fine line between overwhelming and just the right amount. His nose rubs your clit, his lips lap hungrily at your swollen folds, and his index finger fills you pleasantly – he is redoubling his efforts. 

You keep dragging your hips back and forth in rhythm with his movements, fucking his face on the brink of your release. 

“Oh God, you-you’re so good– Aemond, I’m–I’m–” you ramble, breathy whimpers filling in between the words. 

Hearing him slurp and groan beneath your trembling frame brings a blush to your face and stokes the fire in your belly, the sounds fanning through the room like your moans and whimpers. 

When the coil finally snaps, you throw your head back in ecstasy and clamp your thighs around his head, hot, white pleasure licking its way up your spine. His name topples off your lips more than once, accompanied by desperate mewls and whines. He is relentless, licking you through your orgasm. 

You don’t wait long enough for the aftershocks to fully subside, the overstimulation of his tongue dragging through your folds becoming too much, and cup your pregnant belly as you heave your frame off of his face, shifting backwards down his body. 

“Fuck, I–I need you,” you all but beg, eagerly tugging on the collar of his black shirt. 

Aemond seems to share your enthusiasm, and is quick to sit up again, meeting your lips for a deep kiss. Only when you cup his cheeks do you feel that they’re covered in your arousal, the taste of you on his tongue clouding your mind. 

Your belly is between you again, but Aemond manages to swiftly undo the zipper in the front of his slacks nevertheless, and shoves them down just enough to free his aching cock. 

“So desperate for my cock now, mh?” Aemond pants against your lips, a smug smirk tugging on the corners. 

His hand wraps around his stiff member, fisting himself raw twice, thrice, before another pat served to your thigh encourages you to raise your hips. He aligns himself with your soaked entrance, and you feel his tip prodding gingerly at it. 

As you sink down on him, your hands tightly gripping the collar of his shirt, you release a shuddered breath. Your husband, on the other hand, escapes a relieved groan, his head tipping back for a moment. 

With your limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you bow your head forwards, lowering yourself on him until he is balls deep inside of you. “Mh, fuck, you didn’t even bother to take off your pants,” you taunt, “so desperate to be inside me.”

Aemond’s words die on his tongue as you start to sensually roll your hips over his, the added weight of the bump not allowing you to bounce up and down on him with the vigor you had used before your pregnancy. 

But your husband doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes journeying into the back of his head at the sensation. 

Moving his hands to grope and grasp at every inch of your body, they eventually settle on your full breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples between his nimble fingers while you unravel astride him. It prompts you to arch your back, all but shoving your breasts into his face. 

“So fucking good,” he grunts, embracing it and wrapping his lips around your pert nipple while his arms snake around your body. 

He licks and sucks at your little bud like he has done with your pussy before, and, just judging by the smacking and humming sounds he makes, it’s possible there ooze a few droplets of milk out of it. 

Aemond places his feet firmly on the ground, and starts to buck his hips up into yours, seemingly impatient for his own release as he meets the sensual rolls of your hips and bullies the spongy spot inside of you with more determination. 

Loud, wet sounds from where your bodies meet echo off the walls, indistinct to you with all you can focus on being his lips at your heavy breasts, and his cock deep inside of you. 

You bite your bottom lip and stop the rolling of your hips, making it evident that you were close to your orgasm. The tingling at the base of your spine makes it impossible to move any further and you rely on him to take over. 

Aemond pulls back and watches you gleefully as the force of his thrusts makes your body squirm and jerk, eagerly anticipating you to topple over the edge for the second time. 

“You’re gonna cum on my cock already?” he asks, almost mockingly. 

You frantically nod, breathing a yes.

His hands come to your hips, and with his fingers digging into your flesh, he drags your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against the hem of his shirt with each movement. You’re not able to gasp more than yeses and pleases, clenching tightly around him. 

The intensity of his thrusts increases while you have stopped moving, toes curling as the taut string inside of you snaps without a warning and white stars cloud your vision. 

“Mh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, clawing at his shoulders as you ride out your high, grinding and rolling your hips against his. Your walls clamp around him like a vice, and he chokes on a husky groan. “Oh God, I love you.“

And even though your orgasm subsides slowly, Aemond refuses to slow down, keeping his heedless pace and pursuing his own completion. 

He has his lips around your other nipple by now, sucking and nibbling on it, the vibrations of his groans coursing through your veins. “Daddy, mh, cum for me, please,” you whine, desperate for his cum. 

Your body, however, contradicts your words and moans, your thighs squeezing his in a desperate attempt to stop him from pounding into your overstimulated pussy – but to no avail. 

“God, please.”

His pace is as reckless and merciless as before, his cock all but forcing its way in and out of your quivering walls as he doesn’t listen to your desperate pleas.

Pulling back from your nipple with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connects the dark areola and his swollen lips as he gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes. “Hush now, Mommy,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss you. The nickname coaxes a smug smirk on his lips. “Taking me so well, such a good girl for Daddy.” With just his praise, a warmth overtakes your body that drowns out the burning, your chest swelling. 

You sling your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair in a way that is destined to ruin the little updo he had put it in this morning. 

“Mh, fuck, I’m gonna–” his words are cut off with a stutter of his hips, and he feels his throbbing cock spill deep inside of you. 

You ride him through his high with lazy rolls of your hips, biting through the overstimulation, and clench and unclench around him as you milk him for every drop of his seed. 

If he hadn’t gotten you pregnant already, he surely would have knocked you up after this. 

Aemond languidly fucks up into you now as the last spurts of his warm release fill you to the brim, grunting and groaning until the euphoria fades. 

He collapses on the bed, a blissed out expression on his face, and reaches to trace his fingers over the swell of your bump up to the curve of your breasts. Rolling the darkened buds between them, he smirks as he watches you squirm, his softening cock still buried inside of you. 

“You know,” he starts, folding one arm behind his head. His voice is softer than before, but has a teasing edge to it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew by now what we’ve been up to.”

You laugh breathlessly and plant your hands on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over it. “But at least they don’t have to worry about you getting me pregnant by accident,” you tease. 

“True enough,” he chuckles softly, “Fuck, I’m–I just can’t help myself. Seeing your body swell just because of my seed fucking does something to me.”

His words make you blush, and you appreciatively run your hands over your bump. 

You lean forwards and cup his face, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He smirks against your mouth, and subconsciously bucks his hips into yours as he feels you clench around him. 

With a groan rumbling in his chest, he pulls back. Something dark flickers in his eyes, his intentions evident when he speaks again. 

“Once our boy’s born, I’ll make quick work of making you a mother of two.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui @ammo23

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?” 

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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[russo-woso]

Baby? || A Mini Williamson Story

Part one | part two | part three

warning pregnancy, morning sickness, IVF, talk of miscarriage, lots of fluff

After discussing trying for another baby, you and Leah decided it was the perfect time.

Amelia was 20 months, Leah was yet to make her comeback so she could be with you during the early stages of your pregnancy, Alessia, your best friend, was now living in London due to her move to Arsenal, there was no reason not to start trying.

Keeping it a secret from everyone, you and Leah visited your fertility clinic that you used when conceiving Amelia and your IVF journey started.

Of course, with Leah's comeback happening in the next two to three months, it was quickly chosen that you'd carry again.

The egg transfer happened pretty quickly after the first appointment, purely due to the fact that you'd gone through the process once before.

You and Leah were ecstatic about the possibility of having another baby within the next year but the process also came with it's downfalls.

Constant worry of something going wrong or the IVF not working.

The hormones making you change moods every few minutes.

The nausea that you felt almost every single minutes of the day.

When you woke up in the early hours of a December morning, you felt so nauseous, not the normal kind though, not the one that you felt everyday.

This kind felt 10x worse.

You jumped out of bed, leaving a fast asleep Leah, and threw up just as you got to the toilet.

“Fuck.” You whispered, wiping your mouth and leaning back against the wall.

You hesitantly reached to grab the stash of pregnancy tests that you'd bought for this exact moment.

Should you take the test with Leah? And see her saddened if it came back positive?

That's not what you wanted, but you would love to have Leah with you when you found out if you're having another baby.

As you debated what to do, you took the test, setting it face down on the counter.

After thinking for several minutes, you came up with a solution that you thought would be best.

You'd turn the test over by yourself and then surprise Leah later if you were pregnant.

You could come up with a cute announcement for Leah.

Taking a deep breath in, you flipped it over, reading one singular life changing word.

Pregnant

You and Leah were having another baby.

You felt dizzy all of a sudden, overwhelmed with emotions.

You sat down on the toilet with the test in your hands, reading the word over and over again as tears escaped your eyes.

As you were about to head back to bed, a small 'mama' was heard over the baby monitor and you made your way into Amelia's nursery, gently picking her up and cradling her on your chest, her head resting in the crook of your neck.

"You going to be a big sister, Ami?" You whispered as her eyes started to close. "Baby in mama's tummy."

"Baby." Ami repeated, laughing at the newly understood word.

Amelia's favourite thing to do at the moment was to repeat words.

"Yeah, you’re going to be a big sister. No tell mummy though." You said, bringing your finger up to your mouth, which Amelia repeated.

Ami giggled just as Leah walked into the room.

"What are my girls laughing about?" Leah asked, her morning voice hoarse and croaky as she enveloped the both of you in a hug, planting a kiss on both your foreheads.

"Mine and Ami's secret." You replied and Ami put her finger up to her mouth, proud of herself for the new action she just learnt.

"Are you okay, love? You seem a bit pale." Leah questioned, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead.

"Probably just side effects. You know what the process does to me." You joked and laughed lightly.

"Hm. Want pancakes for breakfast?" Leah asked, resting a hand on your back before taking Ami from you.

"Pancakes sound good." You replied, following Leah and Ami downstairs.

———————

You and Alessia had made a plan to meet at a small cafe for a coffee date.

Alessia missed Ami, even though she saw her three days ago, but apparently that was too long.

And anyway, you loved coffee dates with Alessia so who were you to say no.

After saying goodbye to Leah, who was going to go do the food shopping, you buckled Ami in the car, before driving into town.

Arriving at the cafe, you held ami’s hand as she walked inside, Alessia immediately picking her up and enveloping her in a hug.

“Lessi.” Ami giggled whilst Alessia tickled her.

“Hi Y/N/N.” Alessia greeted you, hugging you too.

“Hi, less. How was training? Le seemed to be in a good mood when I saw her. Obviously they weren’t too strict on you today.” You questioned, making conversation with the blonde.

“They weren’t. How have you two been? Been on any adventures recently?” Alessia asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Lessi, you do realise we only saw you three days ago. Not much has happened in them three days.” You pointed out, reaching down to grab one of Amelia’s toys that had fallen on the floor.

“Me big sister.” Amelia babbled and your eyes widened at what she said, Alessia’s doing the exact same.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?” Alessia asked Ami, looking t you as she said it.

“Mama say baby.” Ami continued to babble and you buried your face in your hands.

“I’m pregnant. I found out this morning.” You admitted to Alessia, shrugging and smiling as this was definitely not the way how you were planning to announce it.

“Oh my god, Y/N, that’s incredible.” Alessia jumped up to hug you, before picking Amelia up and spinning her around. “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister.” Alessia celebrated with Ami as you watched the special moment.

“I haven’t even told Leah yet. I’m gonna surprise her later. I stupidly told Amelia this morning but with her repeating stuff because like a chatterbox, just like her mummy, I should have known it was bound to get revealed.” You explained, resting Ami on your lap.

“How far along are you?”

“We don’t know for definite, but I’d say about five weeks.” You told her and Alessia smiled emotionally at you. “Why you crying, lessi?”

“I’m just happy for you.” Less shrugged, tears falling down her face.

You brought her in for another hug, Ami joining the hug too.

“Remember, no tell mummy.” You reminded Ami as you pulled away from the hug.

“We’ve got lots of shopping to do.” Alessia smiled, thinking of all the baby clothes you’d have to buy.

“I know, god, my poor bank account.”

———————

Whilst in town, you bought what you needed to surprise Leah.

You bought a baby grow, having it personalised with baby Williamson 2024 on it.

You’d present it with the positive pregnancy test in a small box.

Leah had extended her shopping trip, having to go to four different shops to get the specific ice cream you wanted, so you had the time to set it up.

When you heard the keys in the door, your heart skipped a beat.

Emotions swirled through your head.

Nervousness.

Excitement.

Worry.

Leah entered the kitchen first, dropping all the bags off on the counter before walking through to you.

“Hi, love.” She pressed a kiss to you before moving to pick up Amelia who was playing with her toys. “Hi baby girl, I missed you today.”

“She missed you too. So did I.” You told her, walking through to the kitchen to start packing the food away.

“You go sit down. I’ll do this.” Leah said, her hand resting on your ass, gently squeezing it before ushering you out the kitchen.

Five minutes passed as you anxiously watched Amelia playing with her toys, imagining another little girl or boy playing with her.

As you heard Leah’s footsteps get louder, you thought you’d get it done quickly.

“I’ve got something for you.” You told Leah quickly, as she approached at the door, her hands behind her back.

“I’ve got something for you too.” Leah announced.

“You go first.” You said to her and she brought a bouquet of flowers out from behind her back.

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you, baby.” You pressed your lips on hers before grabbing the box from beside you, handing it cautiously to her.

“For me?” Leah asked and you nodded, an excited smile taking over her face.

As Leah undid the ribbon, you watched her face like a hawk.

She unclipped the box and opened it, her face lighting up as she saw the contents in it.

“You’re pregnant? We’re gonna have another baby?” Leah jumped up, picking you up and spinning you in her arms.

“We’re gonna have another baby, Le.” You confirmed, before she put you down, pressing her lips on yours.

“I love you so much.” Leah said, her thumbs rubbing over your stomach.

“Me big sister.” Ami repeated her new phrase, Leah picking her up and kissing all over her face.

“How does she know?” Leah asked you and you sighed, knowing it was a long story.

“You know our secret from earlier? This was the big secret. I was sick this morning and then I took the test before Ami woke up so I ended up telling her, thinking she couldn’t repeat it, but you have he eyes chatter box gene and now she’s blurting it out everywhere. In front of Alessia too.” You explained, a proud smile on Amelia’s face.

“So Alessia knows?” Leah questioned and you nodded. “Good because you know how bad I am at secrets. I would have probably ended up telling her at training tomorrow. God, I can’t believe it. We’re having another baby.”

“Two mini Williamsons.”

“Me big sister.” Amelia said again for what must have been the fifth time that day.

“Amelia is gonna be a big sister!” Leah cheered, holding her up in the air, Ami laughing.

“Me big sister!”

[vixenvoider]

I ENTERED THE VOID STATE

in this post i will explain in depth how i entered the void state and what i manifested. i will be open to questions but if you ask something that i explain in this post i won't answer it just fyi, so even though this will be long, if you are truly curious i encourage you to read the whole thing. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that might be present.

overall story: i have been trying to enter the void for around 2 months now, and finally entered through a lucid dream. one thing i want to note before i tell my story is that i have been lucid dreaming my whole life (so if you never have, i don't know what good steps are for beginners).

the beginning: my journey started when i inadvertently came across a post about how someone else entered the void state and manifested their dream body and face. i was not into manifesting before, in fact, i actually had a problem with the whole concept of the law of attraction and didn't know there were other types of manifestation and never looked deeply into it. that being said, i have always been an open-minded person and also, a more or less spiritual person. i believe in a lot of "out there" things because a lot of said things have been proven to me (through experiences i find hard to explain so i'm not going to). i'm sharing this to let you know that due how deeply i naturally believe in such things i never really had a problem with my void concept, even though i experienced doubts (so for this area i really can't give much advice).

so after learning about the existence of the void state i searched "void state" on tumblr and skimmed some info here and there on it, what i came across included some basic methods on how to enter the void but i didn't fully understand them yet. that same night i followed a shifting guided meditation but i couldn't really get "into" it, i was a naturally anxious person who found it hard to relax so it just wasn't working, but i did see it through and try my best and i think in the long run it helped me. in the guided meditation i listened to, the person makes you walk through a door to get to your desired reality and even though the meditation didn't work, that imagery worked it's way into my subconscious and i had a lucid dream that night. i did not manifest anything that night but it was on purpose (i think). in my lucid dream i woke up in my bedroom. i looked in the mirror and decided i would change what i saw to a more desired appearance and it worked (i looked exactly like the person i was thinking of), then, i decided (with intention) to open my bedroom door and enter my dream house and it worked. at this point in the dream i thought that entering the void must be super easy since i was already basically close and could have done it there if i wanted to BUT i chose to wake up because i wanted to enter the void when i actually knew for sure what i wanted my manifestations to be. i knew i was going to want a lot if i really thought about it and i also didn't want to actually look like someone else (my whole lucid dream i was more trying to test my imagination and build my confidence). the next day i started making a void state list and writing down everything i genuinely wanted for myself.

experiencing doubts: things started to go wrong after that hahah, after my first beginner's luck(?) experience i was struggling to lucid dream (even though i've always naturally been a lucid dreamer, the times it occurs is still random and i couldn't make them happen) and meditations were only getting me so close. all in all, over the past 2 months i had 5 failed lucid dreams and several close, but failed, meditation attempts. this instilled some doubts in me, especially the lucid dreams, because apparently once you lucid dream it's meant to be quite simple but when i would affirm for the void in my dreams i would just wake up or the dream would continue.

another thing that caused me to doubt the void was questioning some of the stories on here. most of them i initially don't believe anyway because it's known there's many liars in the community and there seems to be a trend of people posting void success stories in an attempt to enter to the void (to act as if it already happened) but they technically haven't in reality yet. that being said, i did have some blogs i mostly trusted and then one day one of the blogs i trusted answered an anonymous ask about a success story and it really looked like they sent it to themselves. the reason i thought this was because the op of the blog spells a commonly used word wrong all the time but it's not a spelling mistake people commonly make (in fact, i know no one who makes this spelling mistake) but then the anon that sent them the success story made the exact same spelling mistake. it made me worry that perhaps there were no true success stories because why was this person who supposedly mastered the void bothering with sending asks to themselves to validate their blog? i mean this was all speculation but it still caused me to think.

that being said again, i still basically believed, i just wavered a little, but i definitely believed enough to keep persisting (because why not?)

the success: finally, after almost 2 months i entered the void through a lucid dream. when i realised i was dreaming i tried to make myself stay super grounded in the dream but i also thought about not taking too long since i didn't want to wake up. i did this because i realised the very first night when i had my lucid dream, i didn't get excited and try immediately, i hung around in my dream for a while and just enjoyed things (as i explained). so i wandered around the dream a bit and just looked at things, touched things, tried to feel the temperature and take note of it and then when i felt calm and not too excited i closed my eyes and affirmed for the void and entered. when i got the void i just said "i have everything on my void list" (a few times to make sure) and then stated i was exiting the void state. the void feels how pretty much everyone describes, you just know it's happening and you are pure consciousness.

what i manifested: my void state list ended up being super long and i manifested a lot of personal things that i won't share, which is what i'm sure would be the same for most people, but i'll include a list of things that others might find interesting or encouraging:

desired appearance (including body, face, height etc)

money (i came up with a plan that of how it would make sense in my country to have acquired it)

got rid of my anxiety disorder (having this was probably the most debilitating part of my life, it's also why i know meditation never truly worked for me since i could never relax and it's crazy to feel not severely stressed constantly for the first time in my life)

got rid of my autoimmune disease and fixed my eyesight (i manifested being healthy overall in general)

feel comfortable instantly, i will no longer get too itchy, feel dirty after a long day, be too hot or too cold etc. (can't really attest to this one yet but i have felt no discomfort)

dream living space and whatever bed i sleep in to always be super comfortable

opinion on the void state: overall the point is that the void state is real and you can get anything you want, getting to the void is also easy but it's just about trying to go for it and not getting discouraged. i don't want to share too much of my opinion on this because i actually find it really toxic. some people will get mad if you say you "entered" or "got to" the void because you technically are always the void, and personally, i don't find these slight changes in language to be important unless you are very sensitive to it. for me, it doesn't matter if i think about the void as something i enter or something i am because i believe it exists and that's all i need to know at the end of the day. if you want to see it as something you are, or a state or anything else, i don't think it matters as long as you believe manifestation is possible, you are the creator of your reality, you get to decide what language or thought process works for you :)

common questions: i'm going to answer some question i feel like i will get if people find this post so i'm just going to answer them here. remember that these answers are just my opinion.

question: how come people don't manifest to end world hunger, for everyone to have money, to become the next "big thing", to be a real life superhero, for everyone to be happy etc. truthfully, i think people do manifest that but i don't think they stay in this reality. a lot of people think that using the void at all means you shift your reality, idk if i believe in that, but i would have to assume the people that use the void to manifest very extreme things ultimately have to shift realities. so this would mean the reason you're not seeing these results is because these people are no longer in this reality. if you pay attention i think you will also notice that most void success stories that seem to come from reliable sources (though this is still all personal judgement) seem to be rather humble, these people just manifest to be the prettier version of themselves, to live in a nice place, to be around good people and other similar things. i think people with mostly humble desires stay in this reality and people with more fantastical desires (to be the most famous person ever, to be a multibillionaire, world peace) go elsewhere.

question: why would someone even have humble desires? i can't speak for every single person but i think it's just the desire to stick to the familiar. we want better lives but also want to feel at "home" still, i wanted to still feel like ME. maybe it seems stupid and selfish but if we really are shifting realities every time then there really is no way to actually solve world hunger anyway, it will always exist in this reality even if you or i personally go to another one. at the end of the day, life isn't fair and i am just grateful to have discovered the void to live happily and am sharing this so you can too.

question: i'm worried about the wrong people finding out about the void state. honestly, me too! but i think this falls in line with my past two answers, if someone terrible happened to stumble upon this post and entered the void, i don't think they'd stay here, they will go to some other reality more likely, so i really don't think we have to worry about someone super evil getting to the void and doing something super heinous or whatever. but honestly i do understand the worry. at first when i discovered the void i thought i wouldn't share my success story once i entered because i wanted to keep the void as quiet as possible. but just remember two things: most people do not know about the void and if they do a lot of them will give up and not persist. second, someone really evil finding it will probably leave this reality (my theory).

question: why do people not show better proof. truthfully, i don't know, for me it's because i really do want to live a private life and a lot of stuff i manifested can't be proven anyway. if i show my bank account, it could be photoshop, if i show my new face it means nothing because i revised to always look this way, i can't prove i no longer have my autoimmune disease and the list goes on. i think people with more dramatic proof also want to maintain their privacy or go to other realities. perhaps there's even been people to show dramatic proof in this reality but they had to revise that they didn't because it was a mistake.

question: do you have any overall tips? just keep persisting. and personally, i think it's okay to try several methods at once. i know some people say if you try several then it "cancels out" like, if you try lucid dreaming and it doesn't work so you meditate it means you don't "believe" lucid dreaming can work for you so then that's why it takes you so long but i think you can just tell yourself "every method works for me so i will just keep persisting". another thing i recommend trying for a few days is setting your alarm to go off at different times so day 1 is 8am, day 2 is 7am, day 3 is 9am and so forth. each day set the intention to wake up BEFORE your alarm goes off, once you successfully start waking up a few minutes before your alarm everyday this is your tangible proof that your intentions are working. this isn't really a method but more so a confidence booster that worked for me to remind myself i'm in control and powerful. if you also try this i think after a few days you will feel more confident intending to lucid dream, for your meditations to work, for subliminals to work (whatever is your personal vibe) and you will get there easier hopefully!

question: did you ever do any official lucid dreaming methods. personally the only way i ever had a lucid dream was by intending before sleeping that i would lucid dream. but methods where you wake up by setting your alarm early and going back to sleep and stuff didn't work for me. i tried but due to my anxiety i would always wake up super alert or even stressed, so i could never relax enough. but they are successful for many people so there is no harm in trying.

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.

word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.

a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.

Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.

It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..

And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.

In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.

At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.

Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.

Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.

He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.

Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.

You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours. 

Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.

“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.

You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.

. 8:24 PM

hey, how are you feeling?

. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...

🤣

You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.

“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.

“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply. 

“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.

“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.

“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”

You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.

“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”

“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.

Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.

Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.

“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.

Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”

You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?

“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time

“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.

“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.

Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”

“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.

“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..

“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.

“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”

“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.

“I’ll get it done,” you said, following  his move. “Eventually.”

Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.

“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.

For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.

Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.

When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.

“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.

Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.

And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.

“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”

Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.

Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?

“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”

Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.

“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”

“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.

He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.

His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.

“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”

“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”

Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.

Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment. 

The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up. 

You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.

Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.

“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.

“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”

“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”

Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”

You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”

“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”

Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.

You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.

“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.

“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.

“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”

Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.

“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working. 

Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled  into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.

“That’s different.”

“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.

“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.

Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.

It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.

He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.

You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”

“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.

There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.

The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.

“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”

“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.

You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.

He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby. 

All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.

“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”

It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.

His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.

You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.

“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.

“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”

Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.

“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.

“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”

Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”

Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”

“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”

Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.

The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.

Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.

You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.

Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.

But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.

Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.

“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with. 

Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.

“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”

Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.

“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”

You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly. 

What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.

“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”

The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.

You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.

“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”

With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.

“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”

“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.

Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.

“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.

“I better head home.”

“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.

“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.

Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.

“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.

“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.

“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.

“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.

“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you. 

Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.

Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”

It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses  in the increasingly chilly days of September.

“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.

“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”

You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”

Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.

And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another. 

The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant. 

“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”

One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time. 

At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.

A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.

Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.

You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”

It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute  pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on. 

“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.

It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.

But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.

All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.

A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.

It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.

Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.

In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.

Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.

“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”

“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.

No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.

“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.

“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”

“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.

“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”

You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.

“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”

“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”

“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.

“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”

“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”

“In your room.” 

Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.

You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition. 

Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.

“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”

His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.

You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.

Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.

“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”

Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.

You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”

“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”

“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.

“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.

“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.

The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.

“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”

Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.

“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”

“Daddy, I-I…”

You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”

His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.

“Get your things and get away from this house.”

You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.

Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.

“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”

“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”

“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”

You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”

Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.

“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”

Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away. 

You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.

Great. Just fucking great.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

[fanfictionalraven]

Faithfully

Title: Faithfully

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters

Word Count: 4, 904

Warnings: Pregnancy

Author's Note: This was an anonymous request. Such a beautiful song and so perfect for Dean. Thanks for the idea Anon!!

Highway run into the midnight sun,

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind,

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight,

Sendin’ all my love along the wire.

“Another?” The bartender asks Dean, pointing to the beer he’d been nursing for a while.

“No thanks. Work tomorrow,” Dean tells him, tossing some cash onto the bar. He and Sam had rolled into town a little earlier in the day. Some case Sam had found; a witch or shifter or…something. Dean couldn’t remember. 

“Leaving so soon?” A sultry voice asks. Dean looks over to find a gorgeous, young blonde sliding onto the booth beside him. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward to highlight her ample breasts. A hand reaches for his knee but Dean catches her wrist.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Not happening,” he tells her, letting her go. She rolls her eyes and stands, moving to her next target. Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.

A few years ago, that would have been all the invitation he’d have needed. They would have wandered out to the Impala, maybe made it back to her place for a night of meaningless sex, and he would have returned to Sam first thing in the morning, satisfied. But all that had changed almost a year ago.

As he heads out of the bar and into the cold, he pulls his phone out, smiling at the screen. The picture that greets him is one of his favorites. It’s from the small “vacation” the two of you had taken only a couple months ago. It was one of Bobby’s old safe houses he’d told Dean about; a beautiful little cabin out by a lake. Dean had snapped the picture of you sitting on the small dock, feet dangling off the edge. You’d teased him about pursuing a career in photography after seeing it.

He finds your name with ease and calls as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. It rings twice before you pick up.

“Hey,” you answer. Dean smiles immediately at your voice.

“Hey,” he replies. “Bad time?”

“For you? Never,” you laugh lightly. He smiles even wider at your laugh.

“Still in Utah?” The familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roaring to life comes through the phone.

“Yea. Found the nest though. Taking it out tonight,” you tell him, as you lean back against your car.

“On your own?” Dean asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, Dean,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I’m not stupid, ya know?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” he says. “Just…you know…”

“Awwww. You worried about me, Winchester?” You tease him, pushing off the car and walking to your trunk.

“Always,” he admits, almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost. Your smile softens as you open the trunk, glancing around at your weapons.

“You just calling to check up on me?” You ask, pulling a machete out to check the blade.

“No…just…missed you,” he confesses. You swing the machete around quickly to test it out. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“The cabin,” you finish. “I know. I miss you too.”

The two of you had been off and on for the majority of the time you’d known each other. It had mostly been a friends with benefits situation until last year. Suddenly, you were way more on than off. It was starting to feel like a real relationship. You hadn’t slept with anyone else and Dean said he hadn’t. You trusted him, of course.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dean starts, seemingly getting the subject away from…feelings.

“Haven’t hurt yourself, have ya?” You ask. You can practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to be serious here,” he tells you. You laugh and slam the trunk closed, machete in hand. Your cousin’s car pulls up, parking next to your own. You smile and wave at her.

“Serious. Right. Sorry. Go ahead,” you say.

“I was thinking you should come to the bunker,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“I was planning to come by after this,” you tell him. He sighs and cuts the engine off, having reached the motel.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant,” he says. You hold up a finger to your cousin, asking her to give you a minute when she gets out of the car. “You should move…into the bunker…with me.” You’re mid swing on the machete when he asks, causing you to freeze. The machete slips from your hand, landing near your cousin.

“Jesus, Y/N!!” She snaps. You wave a hand at her in apology as you walk away. 

“What are you saying, Dean?” You asks. He lets out a chuckle. 

“I’m saying that…I’ve really started to hate sleeping alone, sleeping without you. I hate waking up without you,” he starts. “Now, I don’t wanna tie you down or anything. Do your hunts, whatever you want. I just want the bunker to be…home.” You hold the phone away for a moment and breathe deeply. You were mere moments from clearing a vampire nest. You weren’t about to cry. Returning the phone to your ear, you can’t help but smile.

“Dean,” you say. “I’ll go anywhere you go. You’re already my home.” Dean smiles and closes his eyes for a second, thanking anyone who was listening.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,

Right down the line, it’s been you and me,

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

You walk into the kitchen of the bunker one morning, stretching. Sam’s already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. You smile at him widely and walk over, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Morning, Sammy,” you tell him. He looks at you and laughs lightly.

“Good morning,” he says, watching as you walk over to the counter, humming. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, swaying to the music in your head. “You’re awful perky this morning.”

“Am I?” You ask, glancing back at him. He laughs and nods. You shrug, leaning against the counter. 

“I guess you two had a good Valentine's Day?” He asks. 

“We had a great Valentine’s Day,” you laugh. 

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam tells you, looking back at his computer. Dean comes in, a smile to rival yours plastered on his face. He walks over and kisses you quickly before getting his own coffee. Sam looks at the two of you and starts to laugh. “Is that a hickey??” He asks. You and Dean exchange glances before Dean moves your hair from your shoulder, examining your neck briefly. He smirks.

“Looks like it,” he says. You laugh and shrug at Sam.

“I said it was great,” you tell him. Dean smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

“I found a case. If either of you care,” Sam announces. Dean sighs as he let you go and turns to his brother, taking a drink of his coffee. “Stacy Altman, 19 year old babysitter from Hudson, Ohio was murdered last night,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Oh, that blows. But if her name’s not Amara, how is that us?” He asks. You lean against Dean and he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Because her heart was ripped out,” Sam tells you both. You grimace and Dean nods.

“On Valentine’s Day? What is that, like an ironic werewolf? Alright, we’ll check it out. But first, I need bacon.” Dean gives your waist a squeeze then looks down at you. “You coming?”

“Think I’ll hang back, keep working this Amara thing,” you tell him, going to leave the kitchen. Dean smirks and gives your ass a quick smack. You let out a squeak of surprise and look back at him as you go into the hallway. You just hear Sam mutter something about the two of you being disgusting as you head back towards your bedroom.

Glancing over your shoulder, you close the door behind you before locking yourself in the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, then pick up the stick you had left on the counter earlier.

“Please be negative,” you mumble a quick prayer.

You and Dean had only been together for about a year. You were both hunters. God’s sister was currently on the loose and very much out to end the world. This had to be the absolute worst timing. The two of you hadn’t even discussed starting a family. It certainly wasn't on your radar and you couldn’t imagine it was on Dean’s either.

You’d bought the pregnancy test a few days ago when your period failed to make its monthly appearance. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean yet, didn’t want him freaking out over nothing. Cause that’s all this was, of course. Nothing.

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you nearly jump out of your skin. You flip the test over and…

**

About a day later, Dean pulls the Impala into the garage of the bunker. He sighs as he cuts the car off and lays his head against the steering wheel. Sam looks at him and smiles a little.

“Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you cheated on her,” he says. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Doesn’t feel different,” he says. “We just had this great day, things were going so well…”

“She won’t be upset, Dean. Come on,” he says, getting out of the car. Dean frowns then gets out as well. They both get their bags and then head to their respective bedrooms. Dean tosses his bag into the corner then sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face.

You make your way down to the room nervously, wringing your hands. You’d been practicing your speech ever since you’d read the test. You had it all planned out and were absolutely prepared to tell Dean. That was until he’d told you they were headed home. The minute you’d received that text, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You had been running every possible bad scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Dean?” You ask, stepping into the bedroom. You frown when you see him so distraught. “What’s wrong??” You ask. He pats the spot next to him and you bite your lip as you walk over. He knows. He already knows and he’s breaking up with me. You sit down next to him and he turns to face you.

“This case…it was a witch, a curse…it was passed by kissing. I kissed the woman who had it and got it passed to me so she was safe,” he explains. You let out a breath and take his hands in your own.

“Dean, did you think I’d be upset about that?” You ask with a laugh. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not finished,” he tells you. Your smile falls slightly and he looks at your hands. “The curse, it takes the form of your deepest, darkest desire and then that person or whatever kills you.”

“I’m…guessing that wasn’t me,” you say. He shakes his head. “Amara?” You already knew before he said anything else. From the moment she’d been freed from her cage, she had some weird connection to Dean. It had only been a few weeks since he told you that she’d kissed him and he couldn’t help but kiss her back. It stung, sure, but you knew it wasn’t Dean.

“I don’t want this, Y/N. I don’t want her. I just can’t shake this hold she has on me. Sitting here with you right now, I want nothing more than to kill her,” he starts quickly. “But when I’m around her, I can’t do anything.” You let his hands go and take his face gently, raising it up to meet yours. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, Dean. I know you love me. We’ll shake this Amara thing soon enough and get back to normal,” you assure him. “You and me. And…whoever else comes along.” He looks up at you, confused. You smile at him and stand, walking over to the desk. It isn’t until now that Dean notices the small gift bag sitting on it. “It’s a little late for Valentine’s now but…” You shrug and hand him the bag. He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you before pulling the pink and blue tissue paper out of it. He looks into the bag, then up at you quickly.

“Is this…” He stops before sliding the contents of the bag into his hand. His hands shake as he flips it around, trying to find the little screen for confirmation.

Pregnant.

“Oh my god,” he says, staring down at the test in his hand. “This is…”

A mistake. The worst possible timing. Not what I want at all. You brace yourself against the desk behind you, waiting for the death blow.

“This is…incredible,” Dean says finally, looking up at you. There are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over but his face changes the second his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, jumping up quickly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over. “Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which…is really saying something for us.”

“You’re happy,” you say quietly, looking at him. His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in your state.

“What? Of course I’m happy!! I mean…” He stops and shrugs. “Timing could be better but…a baby!!” He lets out a laugh and lifts you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room. You squeal and laugh as well, tears of sheer joy and relief streaming down your cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad!! Sammy!!” He calls out, setting you on your feet. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway quickly. 

Circus life under the big-top world,

We all need the clowns to make us smile,

Through space and time, always another show,

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you,

3…2…1…*beep, beep, beep*

You stare into the microwave as the light goes out. Popping the door open, you grab the bottle and test the milk on your wrist. Perfect temp. You turn to go feed your three month old son and accidentally send the stack of neglected and dirty dishes crashing to the floor. 

“Dammit,” you curse, setting the bottle on the counter. Kneeling down, you start to pick up the pieces of the shattered dishes and old food.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, stepping into the room. “What happened?” She comes over quickly to help. You glance up at her and shake your head before hissing in pain. You’d managed to cut your hand on a shard of glass. “Oh, Y/N.” Falling back against the counter behind you, your emotions overwhelm you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mary,” you cry.

Dean and Sam were missing. They had taken on Lucifer once again and this time he was possessing the president. That was almost two months ago. For two months you've been struggling to take care of your newborn son on your own. Sure, you had Cas and Mary but it wasn’t the same. D.J. needed his father.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I…what do you need me to do?” She asks, handing you a dish towel. Wrapping it around your cut hand, you glance back up at the bottle.

“Could you feed D.J. for me? I just…I need a minute,” you tell her. 

“Of course,” she says. She gives your arm a quick, reassuring squeeze before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You lay your head back against the counter and close your eyes, allowing the tears to fall once again as you contemplate life as a single mother. You knew this life was risky, of course. You knew there was always a chance one of you wouldn’t come back from a hunt. You just didn’t expect it to be two months into actually being parents.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cas asks, when he sees you. You shake your head, eyes still squeezed closed as you cry.

Cas frowns as he walks over, taking in the disaster that is the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down next to you. You lay your head over on his shoulder as the sobs rake through your body. Cas shifts awkwardly and you feel his arm come around your shoulders, comfortingly. The pain alleviates in your hand and you pull it from the towel, perfectly healed.

“Thank you,” you mumble between sobs.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he says. You wipe at your cheeks and shake your head.

“Please stop blaming yourself. You followed the plan,” you tell him, laying your head back on his shoulder. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, you don’t know how long. Eventually, you sit up and find a clean part of the partially bloodied towel to wipe your face. You rise from the floor and look at the mess at your feet before taking in the rest of the kitchen. You’d really let things slide lately. You sigh and shake your head, going to get the trash can. Mary comes back into the kitchen.

“No,” she says. You stop and look at her.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You need to go get some rest. Take a shower. Take a nap. Refresh and reset,” she tells you, taking the trash can from your hand.

“Mary, there’s too much to do,” you respond, looking around at the kitchen again. It wasn’t just the kitchen either. You knew the library, war room, and bedrooms needed your attention as well.

“Castiel and I will take care of it,” she says, sending a pointed look to the angel as he gets up from the floor. He nods, looking at you.

“Of course,” he says. Looking between the two, you realize there’s no point in arguing. You were absolutely exhausted, barely able to get any sleep the last two months. Mary smiles at you, reassuringly.

“Shower. Bed,” she tells you. You sigh and nod, reaching for the baby monitor but Mary snatches it up quickly. “I’ve got him too.”

“Okay,” you surrender, holding your hands up.

You head down the hall and steal a quick peek in at your son, sleeping soundly in his crib. Continuing down the hall, you go into yours and Dean’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. One hour-long, steaming hot shower later, you slip into one of Dean’s t-shirts then under the covers. You don’t expect sleep to overwhelm you as quickly as it does. Your last thoughts are the same as they’ve been for the last two months.

Where are you, Dean?

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair,

Two strangers learn to fall in love again,

I get the joy of rediscovering you,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

Dean smiles politely at the waitress, taking his order. She was clearly flirting with him even though he’d told her about you and D.J. She walks off to put his order in, dinner for him and Sam to go, and he pulls his phone out to call you. It rings three times before you pick up.

“Hey,” you say, smiling. You’re sitting in the library, having just gotten D.J. down for the night.

“I miss you,” he says with a sigh. “This waitress won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. Is Dean Winchester complaining about being hit on?” You laugh. He shakes his head as he glances around, his eyes landing on the mechanical bull.

“I told her I had someone back home and a kid. She’s still flirting,” he says, watching as someone gets thrown off. He lets out a chuckle. “I was better than that,” he mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“There’s a…a mechanical bull,” he tells you. You throw your head back, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I would pay to see that,” you tease him.

“Hey. I was awesome,” he assures you.

“Man. I can’t believe I missed that,” you say, still laughing. He smiles and shakes his head before someone catches his attention.

“Babe, I gotta let you go. Think I just got a lead on our case,” he says, standing up quickly. Your smile slips slightly and you nod.

“Be careful,” you tell him before he hangs up. You sigh and lean back in the chair.

**

“Dean’s been hexed. He’s losing his memory.”

That was the call you’d received from Sam earlier in the day. He thought it might be best if you were there to help. Thankfully, Mary had been in the neighborhood so she could keep D.J. for you. You’d peeled out of the garage, tires squealing as you headed for Arkansas, a 7 and a half hour drive. You make it in six.

You whip into the parking lot of the motel Sam had given you the address to and park next to the Impala. Grabbing your bag, you make for the door of the guys’ room and knock quickly. However, it isn’t Sam or Dean who answer the door but Rowena. Your shock gives way to anger almost immediately.

“Did you do this??” You snap, stepping up to her quickly. Her eyes widen in surprise before she smiles.

“Afraid not, dear,” she says. “But I am here to help.”

“Help? Are you kidding?” You ask, looking at Sam as he steps up behind Rowena.

“I know, I know. But...I didn’t know where else to go,” he explains. You sigh and glance around, spotting Dean sitting on one of the beds. He’s laughing at whatever he’s watching on the TV. He looks over and his eyes lock with yours before he smiles widely.

“Hi,” he says, standing. He remembered you. You smile as you walk over to him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands resting on his arms. He looks down at your hands then back at you.

“Much better now that you're here,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m, ugh…I’m…”

“Dean,” Sam says, frowning.

“Yea. I’m Dean,” he says, introducing himself. Your smile fades as you take a step back. He didn’t remember you. It was worse than you’d thought. Sam’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you shake your head.

“I need some air,” you say quietly before leaving the room. Dean frowns as you go and Sam sighs, ushering him to the bathroom to talk. He explains the situation to him, reminding him of everything, everyone. Dean runs a hand over his face.

“So, after everything…that’s it. This is what nails me,” he says. Sam shakes his head quickly.

“No. No, no. Dean. I-it,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “It’s not gonna happen, all right?” Dean looks at him and Sam can see the fear in his eyes.

“Well, you just told me my whole life story. And I gotta be honest, man. I…I can feel it, slipping out of my head. I mean ganking monsters is one thing. But this…” He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot Y/N and my own son.”

“We’ll figure it out. We will,” Sam assures his older brother before standing up. He leaves the bathroom and finds you outside the door.

“Can I?” You ask, pointing to it. Sam nods and steps out of the way. You push the door open slightly and peek in. Dean is standing over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Ugh, Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast - Cas is my best friend. Y/N is my wi…girlfr…” He stops and you sigh before stepping into the bathroom. 

“Girlfriend,” you provide. He looks over at you then down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against the door. He walks over quickly and wraps you up in a tight hug as though clinging to your very memory for dear life.

“I don’t remember what he looks like,” he says quietly. You can hear the crack in his voice, the emotion choking him up. You’re fighting tears yourself now.

“Just like you. Your eyes and everything,” you say.

“What’s D.J. even stand for?” He asks, still clinging onto you.

“Dean Junior,” you tell him. He nods and looks down at you. “You didn’t really want to name him after you but I insisted. Cause I want him to be just like his father.” He smiles a little before leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna fix you, Dean. I swear.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance back.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Sam says.

“I’m coming,” you call back to him. You look up at Dean once more and take his face in your hands. You stand up on your toes, closing the distance between the two of you, and kiss him. You had to tell yourself this wouldn’t be the last kiss the two of you would share. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you. You can’t be sure if he actually means it or if he’s saying it back to spare your feelings at this point. Did he even remember how much you two loved each other? You smile at him before leaving the bathroom and following Sam out the door. Dean rushes out behind you to the desk inside the room. Rowena watches as he jots down a quick note and sticks it in his front pocket. He glances at her and she raises an eyebrow. “Just a reminder…”

**

The three of you get back to the bunker later the next day, Dean’s memories restored. Mary meets you all in the garage, D.J. in her arms. Dean practically bursts from the car and rushes over, taking his son. Mary smiles as she hands him over.

“Glad you’re better,” she says, patting his shoulder. Dean smiles at her before kissing D.J.’s forehead.

“Can’t believe I forgot him,” he says quietly. You smile as you walk past, heading towards the bedroom to put your bags away. Dean watches you go before looking at his mother. “I need your help.” She nods.

“Of course. With what?” She asks. He pulls a piece of paper from his front pocket.

“I don’t remember writing it but…it’s my handwriting. And I mean…” He trails off as he hands the paper to her. She reads it and her eyes widen before looking back up at him.

A few minutes later, Dean comes down to the bedroom and leans against the door frame, watching you. You’re busy taking the clothes from both of your go bags and putting them into the hamper to take care of later. You glance back and smile.

“I figured you’d still be spending time with D.J.”

“Wanted to spend time with you,” he says, walking in. He closes the door before walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile as you slip your arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses you gently, his hands sliding over your waist slowly. He pulls away too soon and you lean in again. He laughs lightly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you laugh.

“I wanna give you something,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a folded piece of paper out and holds it up between the two of you. “I wrote this at some point during the whole…hexed thing.” You take it, giving him a skeptical look. He seems nervous and you can’t figure out why. You unfold the piece of paper slowly.

Dean. If you survive this, marry Y/N.

It was scratched onto the paper quickly and sloppily but it was for sure Dean’s handwriting. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you look back up at Dean. He’s watching you, trying to read your face, as he reaches into his pocket once again. This time he produces a ring.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I, ugh…I thought I was going to have to save up to buy a ring but,” he stops and shrugs. “Mom gave me hers. Didn’t even ask. Said she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh my god,” you say again, swallowing thickly.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He asks. You take a shaky breath as the tears finally start to fall.

“Yes,” you tell him. He smiles widely and pulls you in for another kiss. This time you pull away too soon, holding your left hand up. “I want my ring.” He laughs lightly as he looks at it.

“Dad had it inscribed. I didn’t know that. Mom just showed it to me,” he says. You take it and hold it up, trying to read the inside. You smile widely as you make out the two words. They couldn’t have been more true for the two for you. He takes the ring back and slides it onto your left hand before lifting you and tossing you onto the bed.

Forever yours.

****

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

[beskarandblasters]

Hell Was The Journey But It Brought Me Heaven

Part Five of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Author’s note: Stay tuned until the end for a special announcement! 👀

Chapter summary: A rude awakening that ends with the sweetest reunion.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, made up fallout lore (I made up my own vault ok), angst, canon typical violence, restraints, blood, fingering, vaginal sex, irradiated creampie, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), praise kink, fluffy ending, use of RadAway, no use of y/n

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t put my best friend in an unsafe situation,” Reina says, unlocking the gate to the vault. 

“Right…”

“You just have to change into one of Vault-Tec’s jumpsuits beforehand.”

“Why?”

“It’s what everyone will wear in the vaults, frozen or not. We want to test how they hold up being frozen, how they react to the oils on our skin. That type of thing.”

“…I see.”

Something in your gut tells you this is a bad idea. You could turn back now and tell her that you changed your mind. But her hopefulness stops you from saying no, the desire to not want to disappoint your friend. She’s been working on this for months and she seems so proud of it, so sure that it’ll be vital to saving the world in the face of war. 

“So you’ll be compensated for your time after the trial is over,” she says as you descend lower into the vault. 

“Got it.” 

“And like I said before, you’ll be guaranteed a spot in the vaults should we ever need to use them… But I’d get you in one anyway, of course.”

“Thanks, Reina.”

She leads you into a bleak room, with copious racks of blue and yellow Vault-Tec jumpsuits. On the back of the suits, there’s a large zero in yellow writing. There’s a shelf of boots in the back of the room, along with a wall of lockers. 

“Find one that fits and then you can place all your stuff in one of the lockers. And make sure you grab a Pip Boy, okay? It goes on your left wrist.”

“What’s a Pip Boy again?”

You vaguely remember seeing an ad where they were mentioned but don’t remember any details. 

“They’re on the shelf next to the boots. We just want to test how they hold up when frozen.”

…She didn’t answer your question but okay. 

“Alright. Thanks,” you nod, starting to get undressed as she opens the door. 

You slip on the suit and find that it’s slightly uncomfortable. But at least you’ll be unconscious the entire time you have to wear it. You find a pair of boots in your size and slide a Pip Boy on your wrist. You still don’t really understand what it is. From what you can tell, it’s just a thick silver cuff with a black and green display on the screen. It asks you to register your information so you do so, figuring it’ll be important for the trial. 

But once you’ve changed, you meet her in the hallway, anxiously walking through the vault. She brings you to a room full of large silver cylinders, a large glass panel in the middle of each of them. She opens the door to the first one, helping you get situated inside. Your nerves are shot, adrenaline coursing through your body. It’ll be painless, that’s for sure. But who’s to say you won’t come from this experience a changed person?

It doesn’t matter. It’s for the greater good. 

Now or never. 

“See you on the other side,” she smiles, sealing you inside. 

You do breathing exercises until everything fades to black. 

-

You’re ripped from your chamber, the sleepiness still settled in your limbs. Before your eyes can adjust to the light you’re thrown onto the floor, scrambling upright. Why would Reina or another Vault-Tec employee for that matter wake you up like this? 

You blink a few times and look at who’s standing before you– two men and a woman, dirty, wearing ragged, worn clothing. The two men grab you by your upper arms and force you to stand up. 

“Do you work for Vault-Tec?” you ask, utterly confused. 

They share a laugh, exchanging menacing smiles with each other. 

“I don’t understand. I’m part of an experiment for Vault-Tec. I was just supposed to be frozen for a few days for a thousand dollars cash and a guaranteed spot in the vault.” 

“Oh, you got a spot in the vault alright. Bring her to the surface, boys,” the woman says. 

“Who are you people? Where’s Reina?”

“If you don’t stop yapping, we’ll gag you,” the woman says, rolling her eyes as you’re forced to head up to the surface. 

As you walk through the vault you notice the place is trashed. Blood is smeared on the floor, all over the walls. Dead bodies litter the place, all donning the same jumpsuit you’re wearing. The fear surges through your body, your legs threatening to give out underneath you. If it weren’t for the men holding you upright you would’ve collapsed by now, the fear and shock finally settling it. 

How long were you frozen? Where’s Reina? Who are these people and where are they taking you? Why is this place full of dead bodies?

The harsh sunlight on the surface stings your eyes. You glance around once your eyes get adjusted and find that the surface is… different to say the least. It’s a barren wasteland, void of any life, except for the group of people standing near the prisoners. A band of people, similar in appearance to the ones escorting you; rugged attire, faces affected by the harsh climate, and dirty. But as for the prisoners, they’re dressed like you; blue and yellow jumpsuits, boots, a Pip Boy on their wrists, a big zero on their backs. 

You’re forced to your knees, in front of the group of prisoners. Your wrists are bound together with rope. You look around you, hoping to recognize someone. But it isn’t until they bring up the last prisoner that you see a familiar face; Reina. 

She’s placed beside you, staring straight ahead of her and not daring to glance in your direction. The group of… raiders stand before you, arms folded, menacing smiles on their faces, and covered head to toe in weapons. They outnumber you. They’re a group of at least ten compared to your group of five. A woman who seems to be their leader starts speaking first. 

“I’m sure you’re all feeling lost right now… Let me summarize the past two hundred years for you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. The weight of reality threatens to come crashing down on you. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to run. But for the sake of learning what’s been going on for the past… two hundred years, you listen to the strange woman. 

“Those of you who signed up to be a part of Vault-Tec’s little experiment… They failed you. They forgot about you long before the bombs dropped, before the war even started.” 

She paces back and forth, hands behind her back as she continues. 

“And now thanks to us, you've awoken from your eternal slumber. So, to repay us, you’ll be living as our servants.”

You feel like you’re gonna be sick, nausea washes over you as the wind whips your face. The weight of reality threatens to crush you, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness on the brink of swallowing you whole. Your ears start ringing and everything around you turns to white noise. You’re forced upright and placed into a single file line. The group of raiders surround you, guns drawn to prevent anyone from trying to break away. Reina’s in front of you. You have to ask her for more clarity. But maybe once your anxiety subsides. 

Your mind is swirling with questions. 

War. Bombs. Vaults. Your family. Your friends. 

Cooper. 

You can't process that it’s been two hundred years since that fateful night Reina locked you in the freezer. Your mind refuses to accept it. But as you walk through the wasteland, you slowly work up the courage to confront her. 

“Did you know?” you say suddenly. 

“Did I know what?”

“That they were just going to forget about me for two hundred plus years.”

“…Yes.”

“Quiet!” one of the male raiders shouts. 

But you don’t listen. 

“I should’ve known better. Cooper always talked about how shady Vault-Tec was,” you mutter to yourself. 

“Cooper?”

Fuck. 

“Do you mean Cooper Howard?”

“Uhh…”

“I said quiet!” the raider shouts again. 

“If I’m telling the truth right now then so are you.”

“He would just tell me about how his wife worked there and how the company seemed to have suspicious motives.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?” you retort, scoffing at her audacity to even be demanding answers from you right now. You fucked a married man. She locked her best friend in a freezer for two hundred years and yet she’s the one acting like you committed a heinous crime.

“Under what circumstances did he tell you all this?”

“After we slept together,” you say smugly. 

You expect to get yelled at again but instead, another raider chimes in. 

“You slept with The Man From Deadhorse?”

“How long?” Reina asks. 

“Not that it’s anybody's business, but from when I started on the film up until the day of the premiere.” You wanted to rub it in her face. She had been single at the time, bemoaning the fact to you whenever you hung out.

“So you were sleeping with him until about two days before you entered the vault?”

“Yeah, but that’s beside the fucking point. You need to tell me everything you know now.”

“Vault Zero was originally an experiment to see how long the body could last in a cryogenic freezer.”

“You told me it would be a couple of days.”

“I lied.”

“But… why? We were friends. Why would you do this to me?” 

“They were pressuring me to find test subjects.”

“What made you ask me? Did I just mean nothing to you?”

She doesn’t answer, continuing forward but you press further. 

“What about you? How did you get thrown in there?”

“Against my will. They were short on test subjects and threw me in there a few days before the war started.”

“When did the war start?”

“…October.”

Ten months. Ten months before the war had even started, you were locked in that vault. 

Ten. Months.

Two hundred years and ten months.

You fight the urge to cry, instead opening your mouth to fire a retort back at her. But the raider walking beside you shoves you with the barrel of his gun. 

“Gossip time is over,” he grunts. 

But now that you think about it, you don’t have anything to say to her. 

-

You walk for what feels like hours upon hours. The rope on your wrists irritates your skin and you want nothing more than to rip it off you and run as fast as you can. But on second thought, you know you wouldn’t last an hour in the wild on your own. There’s so much you have to learn about the world again. It’s overwhelming, thinking about what’s changed over the past two centuries. You’re left wondering what became of your home, what became of your family and friends, what became of Cooper. 

But for that, you feel fucking stupid. Your affair ended months before the war started. Who knows what has transpired in life since then? He could’ve patched things up with Barb. He could’ve moved on and forgotten all about you. He could’ve found another young production assistant to spend his nights with. 

Maybe he thought about you in your absence. Maybe he asked Emil about where you went. Maybe he stayed up late at night, thinking about what could’ve been. 

Probably not. 

Suddenly you wish you were never pulled from the freezer. 

-

After what feels like forever, you arrive at the raider's base camp; a shanty town of tents and old cars. The place is littered with rubble, piles of old machinery, and oil drums. The raiders force you and the others on your knees again in a single-file row. The same woman as before paces back and forth before the group, hands behind her back like always, getting ready to tell you what’s expected of you as their new “slaves”. 

But then she stops, looking past the group and out into the distance. She draws her gun and points behind you in the distance. 

“Get outta here, you fucking shuffler.”

You try to look behind you but all you can see is the silhouette of a man, wearing a hat and a long ragged coat. 

“Not goin’ anywhere until I get what I’m after.” 

That voice. 

You hear the sound of a piece of paper unfolding, prompting the woman to say, “That’s not me.”

“Sure looks a whole lot like you.” You can tell by his voice that he’s smirking. 

Could it be? 

“You’re outta your mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you… At least not without a fight.”

She shoots at the mysterious man. The crackle of the gunshot rings through your ears, making you flinch. You try to crouch down lower to miss getting caught in the crossfire and shield one of your ears with your shoulder at least. But you expect him to be dead now, falling to the ground with blood pooling around him. 

But instead, he laughs. 

“Well… I was afraid you’d say that.”

Another gunshot. But not from the woman, from the man. 

She falls to the ground, gurgling blood in her throat and trying desperately to yell, “After him!”

The other raiders open fire, bullets flying all around you. Some of the new prisoners try to run, seizing the opportunity to make a mad dash. Some of them succeed, running far away into the wastelands. But some fail, getting hit by stray bullets and collapsing to the ground. You stay low, inching farther away and taking cover behind an oil drum. You listen as the gunfire rages on, people screaming and crying out in pain. 

You’re at war with yourself, part of you screaming, run far away from here. But the other part of you tells you to wait it out, let them all shoot each other to death, and loot their supplies after. You decide to listen to the latter voice instead. 

You peek out from behind the oil drum, watching as the man reloads his gun. You haven’t seen the front of him yet but you’re dying to see his face. That voice… God, it sounded so familiar. 

You return to center and close your eyes, hoping everything will stop soon. You’re not sure where Reina is, if she ran off, if she’s dead or alive. But to be honest, you don’t care. You’ve quickly learned one rule of the wasteland so far– do this shit alone. 

But eventually, the gunfire and the screams stop. You don’t open your eyes yet, listening intently for any signs of life. Footsteps creep near you and you freeze, hoping no one looks behind the oil drum. But it’s too late. 

“What do we have here?” 

That voice. 

You open your eyes and look at the strange man standing before you– rugged skin, no nose, no hair, tattered clothing, and hazel eyes. You’ve seen those eyes before. 

The man crouches down and reaches into his pocket for a switchblade. You flinch for a moment but realize he’s just cutting the rope around your wrists. Once your hands are free you soothe the irritated skin on your wrists, looking up at the man again. His gaze softens. And now that he’s closer to you, you can confirm that you’ve definitely seen those eyes before. 

“Cooper?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Cooper Howard, I’d recognize that voice anywhere,” you say, brushing your thumb over his textured cheek. “And those eyes.”

He closes his eyes and melts at your touch, placing a gloved hand over yours. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he whispers. 

“Me either… But I’m glad you found me.”

An overwhelming emotion washes over you and you can’t help but pull him into you, clutching onto him for dear life. You’re breaking down, letting the hot tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Cooper, I’m so scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he says, rubbing your back. “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

He helps you stand upright, snaking an arm around your waist as he leads you into the colony of tents. He brings you to one messily labeled “med” with spray paint. Inside there are a few stretchers and copious amounts of medical supplies lining the perimeter of the tent. He sets you down on a stretcher and kneels before you, inspecting you for any injuries. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head no.

“I promise I’ll explain everything to you, okay?”

“What happened to you?”

“Exposed to radiation, sweetheart.”

“And it turned you into-”

“A ghoul.”

A ghoul… You’re not sure what that means. Everything’s so confusing and overwhelming. 

He gets up and grabs a canteen of water, handing it to you as he sits on the stretcher beside you. 

“Are you… alone out here?” You ask after you take a sip. 

“...I am.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I still want you.”

“Sweetheart… trust me, you don’t.”

“But I do.”

“You don’t want to wake up next to this mug every morning.”

“Cooper, I’m still attracted to you now like I was back then. I’ve always loved you for more than your appearance. Plus… it was hot watching you kill all those bad guys,” you say, turning towards him. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” 

You lean forward and kiss him. It feels different but also the same simultaneously, caressing the face of your man, the new version of him. His hands roam your body, running along your outline in the jumpsuit. He pulls back and murmurs, “Let’s get you out of this fuckin’ suit.”

He moves off the stretcher and works to undress you, starting with your boots and working his way up. He unzips the top of your jumpsuit, helping you up so you can shimmy out of it, tossing the Pip Boy to the ground. And once your bra and underwear are off, you’re completely bare. 

You lie back down on the cot, legs spread apart as he gets situated in between your thighs. He tugs off his glove and spits into his hand, playing with your entrance. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. He inserts one finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your soft walls. His other hand gravitates to your breast, caressing the outline before traveling to your nipple. Your breath hitches as he takes it between his fingertips, working into a stiff peak before moving to the next one. 

“All these years later and you’re still just as desperate for me,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you shoot back with a shaky breath. “It’s only been like a couple of days for me.”

“You know I’m only teasin’, sweetheart. Love gettin’ you all worked up like this,” he says, adding a second finger. 

He makes a come here motion with his two fingers, curling them against your g-spot as you writhe against the stretcher. 

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you respond, voice high-pitched and dripping with arousal.

“Let me feel it,” he commands. 

With one last motion of his fingers, you cum around them, clenching and releasing them erratically. Your moans and the wet, squelching sounds of your cunt fill the tent, looking directly into his eyes as you cum. You roll your hips into his hand, riding out the remainder of your high. He pulls his hand from you when you’re done and brings it to his mouth, tasting your spend. 

“My good girl. So sweet,” he praises. 

He pulls his cock out of his pants and hovers above you, gathering more of your spend with his hand and spreading it on his cock. Another shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. God, you needed him. 

“Ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You nod and it’s then that he finally enters you, splitting you apart with his cock. Your moan gets caught in your throat as you get adjusted to his size, staring directly into his eyes again. He places his hands by either side of your head, thrusting in and out of you repeatedly. 

“Still feels just as good,” he says, jaw going slack as he watches your squirm underneath him. 

You’re past sentences, only responding in the form of whimpers. Your moans grow incessant as your pleasure builds, thanks to his cock sliding in and out of you. He slams his hips into you one final time and with that, you finally cum. Your cunt convulses as the muscles in your core contract and release, waves of pleasure surging through your body. Your moans are like music to his ears, a familiar sound he’ll never get sick of. He curses under his breath and before you know it he’s coming inside you. His cum paints your insides as his thrusts grow sloppy. You finish riding out your highs together, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. Eventually, his hips slow to a stop and he remains inside you, looking down at you with all of the love and admiration in the world. 

Maybe it’s the rush of hormones. Maybe it’s the past twenty-four hours making you emotional. Maybe it’s the weight of being reunited. But you’re reminded of how much you love him. And now that he’s finally yours you’re not afraid to say it.

“Cooper?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you blurt out, studying his face for his reaction. 

But he just smiles and says, “I love you, too.”

He leans down and kisses you, soft and gentle before trailing kisses down your jawline. 

You feel his cum leak out of you and remember he came inside you for once. 

“I can’t believe you actually came inside me.”

“Speaking of that,” he groans, sliding off the stretcher and rummaging through the medical supplies. He grabs a clear bag filled with a brownish liquid, labeled with the word RadAway and an IV.

“You’re gonna need this, though.”

“What’s this?”

“Gets rid of the radiation I just released inside ya.”

You sigh and lean back on the stretcher, letting him hook you up to the medicine.

“What about like… pregnancy?”

“Ghouls are sterile,” he chuckles. “You got a lot to learn about the world, sweetheart.”

“I know… But at least I get to do it with you.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The End

End note: I would say that we reached the end for these two but that’s not entirely true! I’ve decided to write a series of one off stories about Cooper showing the Reader the ways of the wasteland! The new loose fit series will be called With You By My Side! I just want to thank @clawdee for being my rock throughout this series, for beta reading these chapters at an incredible rate for y’all, and always being there to bounce around ideas with me! And I want to thank all of you for reading, commenting, and reblogging. I feel so lucky I get to share this story with y’all! I hope you’ll catch up with these two in With You By My Side 🤍

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @chiyo13 @valkyreally @ivyinthesun

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Young!President!Coriolanus x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ struggling to conceive, infertility, miscarriage, 2nd trimester miscarriage, anti-adoption views, adoption, angst, tragedy, bittersweet ending, Soft!Coryo, Supportive!Coryo

This is a very touchy, hard, and difficult subject. I hope I did this request justice.

*This is set in the Not A Bob universe*

You and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, have been married for a few years now. And in those few years you've desperately wanted a child. It started with a tiny want once you saw your friends start to get pregnant right away after getting married and grew into a desperate need once you and your iciscle of a husband celebrated your 5th wedding anniversary.

Truth be told, you were worried about your lack of conceiving since you and Coryo never used protection and fucked like bunnies. Only the gods know how high of a sex drive your husband has; how often he's plowing into you. So, in your mind you feel like you should've been pregnant at least 3 times already. But, sadly, you and your husband haven't been blessed.

And then one of your friends sends you a pregnancy announcement that has you in tears. She got married a few months before you and she's now having her fourth (Yes fourth!) child.

Your husband finds you staring at the announcement as if you'd be able to set it on fire via telekinesis. Upon walking over to the sofa in your private parlor, located in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace, he notices what the announcement is for that's lying on the coffee table.

Oh no. Your peasant of a friend, that managed to set her claws into some mediocre politician (who's in the rival party of the President), is having another brat. In Coriolanus' opinion he feels that your friend, Megara (who he never approved of) shouldn't be gloating and taunting you with professionally made up pregnancy announcements- not with how you and he have been struggling to conceive.

Coriolanus is concerned, as are you, about a lack of pregnancy. Of course, he needs an heir to carry on the Snow name, but he truly does want at least one child with you because he loves you; wants a family with you. And being on this hard, frustrating journey of trying and failing to fall pregnant every damn month during the past 5 years has shown him just how much he loves you and wants a family with you.

He's sure you'd be a wonderful mother and he wants nothing more then to make you one. But, unfortunately, he's been unable to do that.

You've both been to doctors and have gotten tests done, only to be assured that you're both young and healthy. You've both been told that you're trying ‘too hard’ to conceive; that it'll happen when you least expect it. You just nod and take in everything you're told while your husband curtly nods while thinking about whether to seek other opinions; what could be done to make a child possible.

The President lets out a deep sigh and sits down next to you. Wrapping his arms around you; holding you close to his chest and allowing you to cry, Coriolanus tells you, “I know you're hurt that she's having another baby while we haven't had one yet.” Softly stroking your hair, something that seems to calm him more than you, he assures you, “You can cry, my darling. I know you better than you know yourself, just let it out; cry.”

“It's not fair, Coryo.” You tell him as the tears you've been holding back starts rolling down your cheeks in a tremendous downpour. “Why does Megara, hell everyone we know, have children but we don't? Why can't I get pregnant?”

“I don't know, baby. I honestly don't know why everyone's able to have such an excessive amount of children while we're struggling to conceive just one.”

“It's not fair. Megara knows how hard the subject of pregnancy is for me and she just sends me this generic, but professionally done announcement. She couldn't have the decency and respect to call; tell me on the video phone or face to face at an afternoon tea or something?”

“Megara was always a peasant with poor manners. Her marrying some mediocre staffer for a senator of the party opposing mine just shows it.” Coriolanus tells you. Pressing a kiss to your head while continuing to stroke your hair, he suggests, “We could always go to another doctor. Get another opinion; see if there's any options.”

“You know there's nothing that can be done, Coryo. And the only option we have is adoption.”

“I refuse to discuss the topic of adoption, darling. I don't want some unwanted, District reject or some bastard baby of some Capitol City whore. I want our child to carry on the Snow bloodline; to make our family complete.” The president coldly and a bit cruelly tells you; cutting off the discussion of adoption before it can truly even begin.

You've learnt over the years to not to push your husband too hard. You cut your hair super short once, when you and Coriolanus were 18, and it really hit your relationship hard. There was trust lost between you that had to be rebuilt, especially when drama and rumors surrounded his tribute surfaces, but the two of you prevailed in the end. But, after that incident, you tried your hardest not to push Coriolanus’ buttons too hard.

And it seems like adoption was a subject that wouldn't push the President's buttons, but would push his big red nuclear weapon button.

Knowing that adoption was off the table, you weakly nod and agree to see another doctor. Coryo just kisses you and wipes the tears from your eyes. Then he assures you that he'll make the appointment for as soon as possible.

The latest doctor, one that was a fertility expert, had told you that you're young and healthy. That you seem to be in prime condition to have a child. He also concludes that stress might be a large factor in your issues to conceive, considering that you're the First Lady; that you're husband's President Snow.

The doctor gives you a diet plan full of foods that are rich in nutrients and vitamins known to help women conceive. He also gives you hormonal supplements to take as well. Oh, and the doctor explains how to track your ovulation and how to position yourself during and after lovemaking to ensure that your husband's seed takes root.

And Coriolanus is very tedious when it comes to you following the doctor’s orders. He's so hopeful after you received new instructions from a specialist, but you just feel exhausted. And now fucking is a project. Oh boy, it's normal until you start your ovulation window; then it feels like a big production. Various positions before and after to ensure that Coriolanus' seed can successfully get to your womb and take root is a very daunting task.

But your husband doesn't seem to mind. He's determined to have a child with you. But at this point you're about to throw in the towel. You're just so damn exhausted.

But after roughly 5 months of hormonal supplements and ritualistic sex, you FINALLY get pregnant.

When you missed your period, you were nervous and told Coryo. Of course, he made you an appointment with the doctor right away to be checked. You had blood tests done as well as a urine sample test. Waiting for the results while sitting on an examination table, in an itchy gown, with your husband by your side- clenching your hand with an iron grip- was very daunting.

“President Snow, First Lady Snow, I have the test results right here.” The fertility doctor announced, holding some papers in his hand, as he entered your room in the clinic. Sitting down on the stool near you, the doctor looked between you and your husband, only to smile, “Congratulations, First Lady Snow, you're pregnant.”

FINALLY!

After everything that you've been thru during the last 5 years you're finally expecting a child with the love of your life. You just can't believe it. You feel nothing overjoyed and relieved to finally be pregnant after so long.

Coryo, well, he's elated too. Ever since he's said his vows to you and made you his wife he's wanted a family with you. Now, the want is a reality. One that he's happy about. One that he feels blessed about. Coriolanus knew that with enough patience and perseverance it'd happen. That you'd fall pregnant.

“With the date of your last cycle that you provided the nurse with, I estimate that you're about 6 weeks a long in your pregnancy. I'd like to do an ultrasound to measure the fetus and get a better estimate of conception and how far along you are, First Lady Snow.”

“Okay.” You nod, smiling happily, while your husband just silently nods in agreement. Whatever's best for the baby must be done in his books.

After the exam, the doctor prescribed you some prenatal vitamins and an iron supplement. He also gave you some instructions to take it easy, but to also make sure to get plenty of fresh air and to take some walks to strengthen your disposition. The doctor also told Coriolanus to be mindful of pregnancy hormones; that the smallest slight or rude remark could put you into an emotional turmoil. A crying jag that could be draining.

You and Coryo thanked the doctor, agreed to follow all of his instructions, and made a follow-up appointment for a few weeks down the line before leaving and going home to the Presidential Palace.

President Snow's known to be a cold, callous, imposing, stoic man, but with you he's a very loving and devoted husband. After everything you've been thru, Coriolanus is actually quite worried about you. He's always hovering over you, wanting to ensure your comfort and safety.

Every morning you eat breakfast with him in the sunroom before he has to go to his office, in the public section of the Presidential Palace. And everyday during lunch he takes his break with you in the private living quarters of the Presidential Palace. Sometimes he arranges for lunch in the sunroom and other times it's in the rose garden that's in the greenhouse. But after every luncheon he takes you on a small walk in the rose garden to build up your and to ensure that you get plenty of fresh air.

And this goes on for months until you’re 24 weeks pregnant; nearing your third trimester. That's, sadly, when the unthinkable happens. When heartbreak hits you and your husband full force.

Your day had started out normally, as it always did. You took a warm shower and dressed for the day in a dress that flattered your round belly. Coryo had Tigris make you an entire new wardrobe to accommodate your swelling belly. Yes, your round and big now, but in a short time you'll grow even larger with the blessing you're carrying inside of you.

And then you had breakfast with your husband like you always did. Coriolanus was very gentle with you, helping you take your seat and pressing kisses to your forehead and running a soft, but protective hand over your swelling belly before serving you your breakfast and taking his seat next to you. You engage in small talk as you eat your salsa smothered eggs, something you've been craving for the last couple of months, and drink your juice while Coryo sips on his coffee, eats his hard boiled egg, and reads his newspaper while engaging in endearing conversation with you.

You speak about how you're feeling, the baby, and even start to think up baby names. At your last appointment the doctor confirmed that the baby’s a boy and encourage you and your husband to start thinking of baby names. To also start planning for a baby shower and to figure out a nursery design because everything was going smoothly. Before the president has to depart for his duties in his office on the other side of the mansion he promises to get you for lunch at noon sharp.

So, when noon closely approaches your sitting on the sofa in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace. In the parlor to be exact. And you're patiently waiting for your husband to get you.

You're reading one of your favorite books whenever you feel a sharp pain in your side. You gasp, placing your hand on your side. You take calming breaths, trying to stabilize yourself. But then you feel a lightning bolt straight in your lower belly.

You stand to your feet, with the intention to go get help, but the pain in your stomach brings you to your knees. And suddenly you feel something hot and wet trickle down your thighs. Shakily you fall on your butt, against the couch, and start to cry.

You know exactly what's happening.

You're suffering a miscarriage. And all you can do is loudly sob as your heartbreaks, as you feel more blood flow down your thighs.

Your lost in your own thoughts, your body's own trauma, that you don't even hear the door open or the footsteps of your husband rushing towards you while screaming your name at the top of his lungs. You don't notice how his eyes are panicked and full of horror.

You do, however feel him as he drops to the ground next to you; gathering you in his arms as you sob uncontrollably. You can feel his heartbreaking with yours as he places a hand over yours that's on your lower belly. His other hand’s petting your hair in a fruitless attempt to calm you both.

“I know, my love. I know, it hurts.” Coryo whispers against against your hair.

You just bury your head into his broad shoulders and clutch at his waistcoast while uncontrollable sobs wrack your body.

Coryo quickly goes into President Coriolanus Snow mode as screams for help, causing a maid to come running in. Her eyes are wide in fear, but before she can utter a word the president orders her to get him the nearby phone so that he can call the doctor. She does as he asks before scurrying off to prepare a guest room for you to experience the worst moment of your life in.

The maid knows that the doctor won't be able to help. Nobody's going to be able to help. It doesn't matter that you're the First Lady; married to President Snow: nobody can fucking help you.

No.

Not with the backasswards, asinine, laws that have strict limits on women's reproductive health in the mighty nation of Panem. If the baby's not to full term, a doctor won't touch the woman in fear of being accused of performing an abortion. A procedure that's illegal in Panem: one that will get a doctor arrested, charged, and unable to practice medicine ever again.

So, sadly, there's no help for a woman when she's suffering a miscarriage. If she's able to get to a hospital at the 8 or 8 ½ month mark then a doctor will try to save the baby. But other then that, well, a woman's on her own in Panem.

A hard, dark, nasty truth that hit both you and your husband right in the heart and the gut. Despite being President of Panem, Coriolanus couldn't make the doctor rush over and help you. No, because the doctor refused to risk his freedom and his medical license.

Coriolanus was beyond scared out of his mind, despite trying to keep a cool head for you. It wouldn't do you any good to see him breaking down. But, honestly he's about to lose his shit at any moment.

Seeing you in so much pain, both emotionally and physically, has your husband reeling. Your Coryo can't handle seeing you in agony knowing that he can't make it better for you.

You barely hear him hang up the phone and tell you that the doctor says that there's nothing he can do; that you're on your own. You're too busy crying your eyes out as you bleed, cramp, and feel the most painful you've ever felt in your entire life.

The president screams for help, only for the maid from earlier and another one to come in. They assure President Snow that a nearby guestroom is prepared for you and that they'll help you during your trying and traumatic time. Your husband thanks the maids and picks you up bridal style, only to follow the women to the guestroom.

Coryo's by your side the entire time you experience your miscarriage. The maids help you, of course, and they're a big help in your survival. But it's your husband holding your hand and smoothing back your hair while begging you not to leave him like his mother did that gives you the strength you needed to get thru the worst of the miscarriage.

With Coryo by your side you can get thru anything, can weather any storm.

And after seeing the horror of your 6 month term miscarriage, well, Coriolanus Snow quickly changed his firm anti-adoption mindset. Adopting a baby's much safer than risking his soulmate dying in the birthing bed along with his unborn child. The death of his mother was very traumatic and your miscarriage with his first born son had reopened those old, never fully healed wounds ten fold.

A month after your miscarriage you have a check up with your doctor. The specialist apologized for your loss and claims that there must've been an abnormally that wasn't caught on any testing performed. But then the specialist says that in another 3 months you and your husband can always start trying again- except this time with high dose hormone shots for you and male pre-conception vitamin supplements for him that would boost the vitality of his seed.

Before you could even think, President Coriolanus Snow shot down the doctor's idea. The cold as ice look the president gave your doctor was enough to have the doctor shaking in his shoes and praying for his life. Before ending the appointment the doctor left you and your husband with some pamphlets about grief, rainbow babies, and adoption.

Coriolanus left the first two pamphlets on the small counter in the examination room, but he took the one about adoption. He gave it to you, because as much as he wanted his own child with you he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to become a mother.

One week before the games were due to start President Snow got a call from the Capitol run adoption center. The woman in charge said that they had received a newborn baby boy with blonde hair and blue eyes (as he has requested) from District 12- of all places. The adoption director explained how the newborn was given up by the biological parents because the father had enlisted as a peacekeeper and the mother couldn't handle the pressure of being an unwed teen mother.

Of course, Coriolanus told the director that he'd be by with you at once. To start on the paperwork for the adoption; that you'd sign it when you arrive.

And when your husband rushed to the rose garden, where you spent a lot of your time thinking and healing spiritually, he smiled. “I got a call from the adoption center, they've got a newborn baby boy for us, darling.”

“Really? We're going to have a baby?” You ask in disbelief, your eyes welling up with unshed tears of joy.

“Yes, my love.” Coryo nodded, cupping your face in his large hands and using his thumbs to brush away the happy years that began to fall from your eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “We're going to go pick him up and bring him home.”

Crassus Javanis Snow, named after both of your fathers, was a very cute and happy baby. He was the sweetest thing. He truly looked worthy of the Snow name with his light blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was both the love and light of your life and Coryo's life.

But President Snow became very protective, possessive, cold, and even downright cruel towards other people when it came to you and your son. Nobody could say a word about how the Snow heir was adopted or how you were a useless wife by Old Guard Capitol standards, not unless they had a death wish.

Your husband did push for better women's reproductive health and reform. And when he signed the bill into law he had the proudest smile on his face.

Of course the bill was only for Capitolite women; it didn't hold up for women in the Districts. But he didn't care. You're a Capitolite woman and whoever your son married will be a Capitolite girl as well.

So…

But as long as Capitolite women are healthy, fertile, and happy that's all that matters to President Snow.

And when your son's getting ready for kindergarten at the Academy you get the surprise of your life when you turn up pregnant, after so many years of nothing; after you and Coryo stopped trying, with your daughter.

A baby girl that you'd name Demeter Rose, in honor of Coryo's late mother and grandmother.

But one day, when both of your children are middle-aged with children of their own, during the 74th Hunger Games, your eyes widen when you see the tribute from District 12: a broad and tall boy with blonde hair and blue eyes that looks strikingly like your son did as a teenager.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[within-your-eyes-if]

May 1st Progress Update

Hello all!

Very long update, so I apologize ahead of time.

April has been an incredibly productive month for me. I've made substantial revisions and have taken some time to reflect on possible changes for the future.

There are decisions I made earlier in the development of this story that, in hindsight, could have been handled better. While I will continue with the upcoming update as planned, I intend to take additional time afterward to revisit and refine various aspects of the game.

I truly love this story and want it to be the best it can be. I aim to look back on it with pride and minimal regrets. These changes will be comprehensive, affecting everything from narrative elements and gameplay mechanics to the presentation on itch.io.

I hope this update doesn't cause any concern; rather, I want to share this as part of my journey in developing this game, a process that occasionally requires stepping back and reassessing to move forward effectively.

With that said, here are some developments I've been working on that I haven't yet discussed. If you have any thoughts on some of these, I'd welcome the insight:

Guilt System Overhaul: I'm currently refining the code for the guilt system. The upcoming changes will significantly alter how guilt is calculated and displayed, emphasizing the impact of your relationships. For instance, lying to a character you're romancing will carry more weight. However, I'm carefully considering how to balance this to respect player agency, recognizing that not everyone may want their character to feel guilty in such situations. Your feedback on this would be appreciated before I start making final decisions — edit: you are welcome to comment on this post! (Sorry ;-;)

Skill System Overhaul: The foundation for the new skill system is done and functional in a test environment. However, I'm still evaluating whether its inclusion genuinely enhances gameplay or if it complicates things unnecessarily.

Extensive Coding Overhauls: Overall, I've done so much coding that I couldn't begin to tell you what all I've done. I combined things to both organize and streamline (though this might just effect me overall).

There is more to share, but I want to keep some surprises under wraps for now.

Future Support Update: I am in the process of setting up a Patreon, which I aim to launch next month. Initially, I considered using Ko-Fi for all supporter interactions, but the exclusive access features offered by itch.io make Patreon a better fit for what I want to achieve.

On Patreon, I will be providing a couple tiers. While one offers more than the other, here's a general overview of what I'll be offering: detailed progress updates, sneak peeks, alpha builds, special acknowledgments, early access, among others.

Ko-Fi will remain available for those who prefer to offer one-time support. Your support, whether recurring or one-time, is immensely appreciated and makes a significant difference in the continued development of my projects.

Beta Testing: Given the aspects of Patreon, how I approach beta testing in the future will be different. However, I will continue as I did last time with this one.

This month, I am aiming to begin the beta testing phase for the new Vice System. In light of changes to the test's parameters, previous applications have been cleared. If you're interested in participating, please reapply.

Please note, this test covers a lot of adult content — you must be 18 or older to participate (though really, you should be 18+ if you're even reading my story *finger wagging*). Ensure you are comfortable with explicit content before applying.

Application is found here.

Tumblr Asks: I will be making a separate post soon to address the reopening of Asks. Please be patient with me as I work through a couple of reasons why it was temporarily disabled. I appreciate your understanding and look forward to hearing more from all of you soon!

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the lengthy update, but thank you all for your patience as I continue refining and revising. Work on Chapter 3: Part Two is progressing, though there's still more to be done.

Wishing you all a wonderful month ahead!

[suchathrilltobeagirl]

This is an important time for me.

Not only have I long known that, at some point, I would need to 'take the plunge' and commit myself to the next stage of my journey to become (almost) fully female - the Real Life Test - I also know that I cannot put this off any longer; I am getting no younger!

I now need to live and work and socialise as a woman, for up to two years, before I will be able to undergo sex reassignment surgery. For me to be able to do that, I need to draw a line under my past, and grasp the future opening up for me, not as a male aching to be female, but as the female I have wanted to be since I was six years old.

I need to reinvent myself fully as a woman, not a woman with a past, but a woman with a future, accepting who I am, grasping an amazing opportunity opening up before me thinking, acting, behaving and iiving as a woman full time.

I have started to write my second book, a most timely sequel to my first book 'Night and Day', and I am being asked by my publisher to focus my efforts on that.

This second book will partly feature my time and journey on Tumblr (mentioning no names). This period of my life, as I have continued my transition, has been wonderful, receiving such support and affirmation, receiving so much encouragement, being able to encourage others and speaking up for all girls like me and taking on the 'haters'!

So I am going to be 'quiet' on Tumblr for the next few months, absent even, to focus on my book in the short term, and give me the space I need to start believing, and finally accepting that I am a girl.

Thank you Tumblr for giving me the opportunity to meet and make so many friends, and thank you to my friends - you know who you are - for your acceptance of me, for journeying with me and for your support!

Katie Louise Miller xxx

[footballerimaginess]

Baby Mase

Word Count: 754 This fic is based off of this blurb

The last few days you hadn't been feeling very well, your boobs had been hurting you a lot more than usual. The smell of certain foods were making you feel sick too, which rarely happened.

When Mason came in the house, you jumped as you weren't expecting him back yet.

"Hi" you jumped as he walked through the door as you clutched your chest in shock.

"You okay? you seem.. off?" he asked you as you quickly dismissed his question.

"Nothing, I'm fine" you reassured him that there was nothing wrong.

"Hmm yeah because I can read you like a book. I know when there is something wrong. It shows in your face babe, don't lie" you shrugged as you bit your bottom lip.

"I I, well." you paused as he walked closer towards you as he held your hand and rubbed his thumb against it softly.

"It is okay. You can tell me what is wrong" he asked you as you pulled away from him as you went to grab your phone.

"This" you opened up the period tracker app to show him.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" he glared at your phone as he looked all confused.

"I am late" you whispered.

"Late? as in late, late?" he questioned you

"Yes, my period is a couple days late. You know I am regular like clock work. I am worried, what if I am pregnant? we haven't even discussed this. We have only been together 2 years, I'm not sure if I am ready yet" you shrugged as you couldn't stop talking.

"Hey, deep breaths" Mason whispered as you took a deep breath in and out as he held your hands tightly.

"Everything is going to be okay babe, we will go and get you a test and let's just see" you nodded as he hugged you tightly.

"Thanks" you whispered as you grabbed your keys and phone.

The journey seemed like it was taking forever, your mind going all over the place.

What if you were pregnant, you were so confused because you weren't even sure if you wanted kids or if right now was the right timing.

As you parked up, you practically jumped out of the car as you ran in the store to grab a test.

You picked any pregnancy test, not really knowing what test was the right one.

After picking up the test, paying on the self scan check out and ran straight back to the car.

“Okay, but do you really want me here when you piss?” he asked much to your annoyance.

“Mase, hun. You made this baby, so staying in here while I wee on a stick is the least of your problems. Now if you are that much of a pussy stay outside” you closed the door in front of him as he gasped.

“Guess hormones started early huh?” Mason mumbled. “Piss off smart arse” you remarked under your breath.

“I heard that” rolling your eyes as you ripped the test open.

“You were supposed to” you peed on the stick and placed it on the counter.

“Have you done it?” he shouted as you opened the door.

“God I feel naseous all of a sudden” you clasped your hand over your mouth as the timer went off on your phone.

“Look at it, oh- fucking hell. We are going to be parents” you squealed as you looked at the test in shock, but happy shock.

“We are, our little baby. Baby Mount” he smiled, gently rubbing your belly.

“I can’t believe it. Mase this is happening, are you ready? 9 months of craziness” you laughed into him as he placed a kiss on your forehead as he wiped the happy tears away. “I’m always ready” he whispered as you stayed close together until you pulled away from him.

"Do you think it is going to be a girl or boy?" you asked him.

"I don't mind, but as long as they are healthy. I cannot wait for this baby" you smiled at him as he gently rubbed your non existent belly.

"Me too, guess we will have to get ready for the next few months and weeks. This is going to be weird for both of us" you warned him.

"That is okay, as long as you are alright. That is the one thing that matters and the baby of course" he smiled as you kissed him gently.

"I can't wait for this" he muttered as you cuddled him.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Baby Steps Part 1

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Summary: Larissa and reader begin their journey to becoming parents

Warnings: Needles, pregnancy, mentions of PCOS (PCOS girlies unite), blood

A/N: Okay, so a lot of you wanted me to write a Larissa x pregnant!reader and I've decided to make this a tiny series. I was gonna make it a tiny continuation of If I Could Turn Back Time, but I forgot in the epilogue that they adopted a student so oh well. Tiny Larissa x reader series! Also I know I could've just had Larissa shapeshift a dick, but I'm not up for writing that.

Also lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part<3

Read Part 2 here

It was in the dark of your bedroom that you whispered her name, “Larissa?”

“Hm?”

You felt her arms tighten around your waist. “What do you think about…children?”

“Children?” She sat up and leaned over you. “Well, I think I have to like them since I’m the principal of a school.”

You sighed, smiling softly as she pecked you on the lips. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…a…family. What do you think about a–starting a…family…?”

Your heart began to race. It had been on your mind for months and all you were waiting for was the courage to bring up the topic. You were anticipating Larissa’s reaction, every scenario in your head ending with the phrase, “Maybe we should get a divorce.”

But, instead, when she laid back down behind you and pulled you into her embrace, she placed a kiss on your neck and smiled. “I would love nothing more, my darling.”

Larissa held your hand as you sat on the table at the doctors office. The sterile white paper underneath you crinkled with every move you made. 

“The doctor should be in shortly,” the scribe said, smiling before tossing her gloves out and leaving the room. 

Your eyes wandered the room, noting the diagrams and pieces of maternity art that hung on the beige walls. You giggled as you watched Larissa blow into a latex glove before letting it go and watching it fly around the room. You sobered up immediately when a soft knock on the door was heard.

“Hi!” The door opened and a short woman with frizzy hair walked in. “I’m Dr. Curan. It’s lovely to meet you.” She took a seat on the rolling stool in front of the computer, opening your file on it and skimming through it. “So, I see that you’re here for an evaluation.”

“Yeah, we’ve decided to, uhh…start a family. But, as you can see,” you said, gesturing between yourself and Larissa, “we kind of need help with that.”

The doctor smiled. “Well I can help you with that. Were you thinking in vitro? Intrauterine?”

“Intrauterine,” you answer. “Of course, though, in vitro is okay if it’s necessary.”

“Okay! So, the first thing we’re gonna have to do for intrauterine–or artificial insemination, whichever one you wanna call it–is a fertility test.” Dr. Curan looked over your chart once again. “I can see in your chart here that you do have PCOS, so that can affect your fertility. Other than that, you’re healthy and you’re young, so my hopes are high for this.”

“And what does the test consist of?” you heard Larissa ask.

“Part of it will be a blood test,” the doctor said. “This one will measure two hormone levels. The first is the follicle-stimulating hormone. Its main job is to control the growth of eggs in your ovaries. And the second hormone is anti-mullerian. It’s produced by the follicles themselves and the more anti-mullerian you have, the more eggs you’re probably going to have.”

“And the other part?” you asked.

“The other part will be the antral follicle count,” Dr. Curan explained. “It’ll be performed by a transvaginal ultrasound. Basically, we’ll count how many follicles are in your ovaries. And, after that, we’ll go over the treatment plan.”

Waiting for the sonographer, you laid on your back with your feet in stirrups. You watched as Larissa, with arms folded in front of her, looked closely at a framed poster with fun facts about the female anatomy.

“Did you know this?” she gawked. “Prehistoric females had an average of fifty periods in their lifetime! And the average woman will use 11,000 tampons in her life! That’s bonkers!” She looked back at you, meeting your surprised look before turning back around to continue reading. “Oh, look at this! A contraction can give a force that equates to roughly 1,938 kilograms of pressure! That’s 4,272 pounds! Women’s breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant! Their blood volume increases by fifty percent and their heart can grow bigger because of that! This is incredible! I can’t believe I never knew some of these!” 

“Larissa,” you huff, “you need to stop reading these off to me, otherwise I’ll schedule a tubal ligation instead of an intrauterine insemination.”

She pursed her lips and smiled at you before walking over and taking your hand. Larissa leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Oh, you’ll be fine, darling.”

Standing at the sink, you watched out the window as your hands worked idly, scrubbing away at dirty pots and pans. You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a presence behind you. Arms wrapped around your waist and you gasped as hands slid to your hips and lips skimmed over your neck.

Low groans from Larissa vibrated over your throat as she kissed and nipped at the exposed skin. “It’s seven o’clock. Maybe you should put a hold on the dishes.”

“Maybe you should be patient,” you retorted. “A few more minutes won’t make a difference.”

Larissa hummed, “Talking back? You know, Christmas is coming up next month. I’d hate for you to end up on the naughty list…”

“Have any punishments in mind?” you quipped. 

You could feel her heavy breath on your neck as her hands wandered more. Down to your ass, up to your waist, over to your breast. “So, so many,” she murmured into your ear. 

You could feel one of her hands keep you steady as the other one retreated from your body. They returned shortly and one of them pulled your shirt up over your belly. “And–Ow!” 

A sharp pain in your lower abdomen caused you to jolt, and after five seconds Larissa stepped away. You glared at her as she giggled to herself and recapped the needle on the pen. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Just think about our future child. When you’re done here, I’ll be in the bedroom…waiting for you.”

Later that night, beneath the warm comforter and cold air, your naked bodies, slick with sweat, were locked in a tight embrace.

“Maybe we could ask Vlad,” you giggled.

Larissa laughed and tightened her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Vlad? Really?”

“Mhm,” you joked. “He’s good looking. He’s athletic. He’s European. He’s the whole package, Larissa.”

“How about we choose someone from the donor list,” Larissa suggested.

You sighed, “Fine. As long as they’re attractive. I don’t want an ugly kid.”

“You are ridiculous.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you sat with Larissa in the waiting room. 

“What if it’s negative?” you ramble. “What if we’ve done all of this stuff for nothing?”

Larissa’s hand went to your knee, squeezing it lightly to calm your fidgeting. “Then we’ll do it again if you want. Darling, you’re young. You’re healthy. We have plenty of time. And if you no longer want to do it, there are other options.”

When your name was called, Larissa took your hand and walked with you into the room. She sat beside you as you had your blood drawn, talking about names and if the baby would have powers like you, what color to paint the nursery and if you should start looking for a bigger house.

The phlebotomist stood up after bandaging your arm. “Alright, whenever you’re ready, you’re all set. Let me know if you feel dizzy or lightheaded and I’ll get you some juice. It’s a Friday, so you should expect the results in your chart on Monday or Tuesday, and if you haven’t by Wednesday, feel free to give us a call.”

Monday morning, your heart was racing. Your anxieties would be cured sometime that day–to be replaced with elation or disappointment. When? You didn’t know. And you hated it. The entire day moved at a snail’s pace. You could hardly focus while teaching and kept checking your phone every time it buzzed. This happened so many times, in fact, that you had to silence it altogether. 

At lunch, you checked your phone again, but to no avail. It was during the last class of the day that you were sitting at your desk and grading papers while the students had free time that the buzz of your phone made you almost sick with anticipation.

New message: ‘Hello! You have one (1) new test result waiting in your chart. Questions? Call (802)44…’

You thought the bell would never ring. However, when it did, and your students flooded out of the room, you followed suit with your phone in hand. Rushing up the stairs, you had made it to Larissa’s office in record timing. You knocked quietly on the door and when you heard a faint voice beckoning you to enter, you did.

“How was your day?” Larissa smiled as she put away files in a desk drawer .

“Long,” you sighed, giving her a peck on the lips before sitting down. “But, I got an interesting message…The test results are available.”

Larissa froze. “What are you doing? Open it!”

“But, what if it’s negative?” you said.

She took your hand in hers, eyes softening and her voice lowering. “My darling, if it’s negative, it isn’t the end of the world. Like I said a couple weeks ago, this isn’t our only option.”

“Right…” You took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, here we go.”

You unlocked your phone and opened your online patient portal. The words at the top of the screen make your insides turn.

One (1) new test result!

You tapped on them. 

Lab results - Blood

Pregnancy

Result:

Positive

[midryss]

Little Beastie part 2 (The Ghoul x Fem Reader NSFW)

I loved their dynamic so much I just had to do another smutty part 2. Link to part 1

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU'RE A MINOR

Summary- You and your Ghoul companion had been travelling together for a while and you had grown close, close enough for him to begin lowering his walls. Your trust in each other is tested as a meds shortage threatens the life of your Ghoul, but like the loyal little beast you are, you do whatever it takes to protect what's yours, reaping the rewards he gives.

Warnings- oral sex (Fem receiving), fingering, p in v, rough sex, thigh riding, spanking, hair pulling, creampie, light degrading, biting, sub reader, dom Cooper, light lasso bondage

You had lost track of the weeks you spent travelling with The Ghoul, you had seen more of the wasteland in the few months you had met than you had in your whole life - and you loved it! The thrill of not knowing what the next day held as you travelled with your cowboy companion was everything you wanted; a life free from chems with someone you trusted, even the nightmares had begun to fade, and your feral side started to tame.

All was well until you finally told him your name a few days ago. You were taken aback to see he appeared almost uncomfortable as you happily divulged the personal information. Feeling like you had crossed a line he wasn’t ready to approach yet, you apologised profusely but despite your efforts to rectify the situation there was an undeniable awkwardness between you. He became more guarded, his charm faded, and the uncertainty made you anxious, but the possibility of being pushed away more by discussing it made you feel worse, so you kept quiet, and the nightmares returned. 

Lack of sleep and anxiety had taken its toll, you dragged your feet as you followed him through the small settlement before stopping at a little shack with a crudely drawn red cross sign across the door. The vendor cringed when he saw you approach.

“Sorry Ghoul, know what you’re after an I’m all out” 

“The fuck do you mean, you’re all out!?” The Ghouls irritability had got the best of him as he glared at the man, flashing his gun in the process, the vendor gulped.

“Look man, my last shipment never came, I got nothin!” he held his hands up in a panic.

“Shit!” The Ghoul hissed, you led him away from the shack, pulling out the last vial of yellow liquid from your back pocket.

“Kept it safe for ya till we find more” He took it from you with surprising tenderness as you watched him process his thoughts before he returned to the worried vendor.

“The shipment- any word on its last location?” He asked but his tone was demanding.

“Last I heard it just left the manufacturer, big hospital down past Filly” Your eyes widened.

“That’s raider territory!”

The Ghoul looked at you before grabbing you by the shoulder and marching through town.

“There’s a water pump on the other side of the market, go clean yourself up quickly and resupply. Meet me back at the gate” His eyes were a world away, all the tension between you was gone in an instant as you both prioritised his meds. He knew you wouldn’t leave him, not without a good reason at least, telling him your name confirmed that and as much as he denied it, he enjoyed your company. You were still violent, and your psychotic tendencies needed checking, but you were softer, less selfish than you were only a few months ago. You’re not sure if it was being chem free that changed you or simply interacting with The Ghoul, maybe both. He eased the guilt that accompanied being clean, made you start to find balance between good and bad, between living and surviving. He didn’t realise it yet, but he trusted you.

“Ready?” you asked as he marched up to the gate. He gave you a short nod before journeying through the wasteland, taking shortcuts where possible and rarely stopping. The Ghoul couldn’t afford breaks and he was glad for your resilience and strength to keep up with him. But his coughing fits grew more frequent as time passed.

“Any of your buddies, gonna be there to greet us?” he asked after a long silence. You were relieved to hear him speak, it felt like days since you had a normal conversation.

“Honestly, dunno what to expect” You thought for a moment, contemplating whether to tell him about your last day with your clan.

“I might have blown up their chem stash when I left” you finally admitted, he laughed through coughs and you smiled, relieved to feel some normality between you again.

“Safe to say they weren’t happy.” you continued “Lucky for me they were still high and can’t aim for shit”

He thought for a moment “Think they’ll still be shit shots without the chems?”

“Kinda, hoping they used half the shipment already, so I don’t have to worry about it”

Despite the weakening Ghoul you both made good progress, with night falling quickly you pushed on until finally The Ghoul submitted to downing the last vial and settling down for the night. 

“Gonna get turned round in the dark” he mumbled to himself. You didn’t bother arguing with him, knowing you would need your strength to face the raiders. He lit a small fire while you checked your rations. 

“What even is this?” you pulled out a slab of dried meat from his pack. He was always supplied with it, and you assumed he did his own hunting when you were scavenging or resupplying in Ghoul free settlements, but you never thought to ask. He smirked in response which made you realise.

“Oh…Ew!” you yelped, dropping the human jerky back in his pack with a shiver. He snatched his pack and began tearing through the meat with his teeth with a glare.

“Glad to know you treat your women with more care” You clamped a hand over your mouth as soon as you spoke, red faced and shocked at the words that slipped from your lips. He chuckled but was just as surprised as you by your words.

“I-I didn’t mean…I mean…fuck! I’m so sorry!” You stuttered holding your head in your hands to avoid his predatory gaze. You were embarrassed at yourself but also ashamed that you brought up the subject of intimacy when your relationship with the Ghoul was in the worst state it’s ever been.

He smirked, pleasantly surprised by your sudden brazenness “Want me to eat you alive, princess?” He asked hungrily. You gasped as he cast his spell on you, he was so good with his words, he made you melt but you were so confused. One moment you’re not speaking to each other and the next he’s flirting as if nothing happened. The mind games enraged you and between the bounty collecting and awkwardness surrounding you both, it had been a while since you even touched each other.

“Fuck off, Ghoul!” You stood abruptly turning away from him. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and you hated having no control. Not knowing how to react or what to say, your natural instincts to get aggressive took over. You wandered, keeping within the light of the fire and sat with your back turned to him, throwing your knife into the ground over and over, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts wandering to him. Remembering what it was like to have him touch you, to feel his rough hands all over your body, his tongue slowly, painfully licking the length of your pussy as you begged for more…

Fuck!

You stood up once more, pacing around the fire once again, throwing your knife at the ground harder. You had never felt so wound up before, so frustrated and to make it worse you didn’t even know where you stood with The Ghoul. He watched you struggle, loving every moment of it. But the day ahead would be hard and unpredictable and he needed that fire in you to burn, he needed your feral side and the best way to do that was to play with you.

“C’mere, Beastie” he beckoned. You felt your knees weaken at his tone, hoping he would help relieve you, you stumbled forward before kneeling in front of him submissively. He smirked at you, wide eyed practically begging as he leaned in. Your heartbeat rapidly against your ribcage, too excited wondering what he had planned for you that you didn’t notice the lasso being wrapped around your arms until he pulled, pressing your arms against your body hard. You gasped, snapping back to reality.

“Sorry, Darlin. But I need you wound up for tomorrow” he gently stroked your cheek.

You glared daggers at him, rage burning inside you as you snarled, snapping at his fingers with your teeth. He snatched them away, smiling, almost proud of the control he had over you.

“There she is, my little Beastie” 

“Go to hell!” you spat; hot rage mixed with arousal burning inside you.

“Atta girl! All that raw emotion, save it for me. Use it tomorrow and I’ll reward you for bein such a good girl.” 

Your body shivered at the prospect of being rewarded by him, collapsing beside him all you could do was watch the flames dance around until your eyes grew heavy.

He watched you hungrily as you slept. You moaned softly, rubbing your thighs together and he knew you were dreaming about him. Those little noises you made, the way your breath quickened as you arched your back in your sleep, it drove him crazy, but he needed to control himself.

Finally dawn broke and you stirred “How’s my little beastie this morning?” he teased. You caught the knowing gleam in his eye, he knew you had dreamed of him.

You groaned as you struggled to sit up, your arms still bound to your side.

“I hate you” you hissed,

“That so? Not what I was hearin last night,” he taunted as he began unwrapping the lasso. The second the rope dropped you pounced straddling his waist pinning his arms on either side of his head. His hat flew off, but you didn’t care, you hissed like an animal, wild eyed as your hips crashed into his. Finally, the friction you craved, that he had denied you all night. You rubbed your hips against the growing bulge in his pants.

“Fuck!” You growled, your grip loosened round his wrists, and he took the opportunity to flip you both, so he was on top. You let out a little moan as you felt him thrust his clothed cock against you.

“Like a bitch in heat! C’mon, beastie we’re on borrowed time and I need you to put that frustration to good use.” he returned his hat to its rightful place on his head and stood, silhouetted before the rising sun. He reached a hand out to you but batted it away with a growl, letting your anger be known.

He chuckled as you stormed ahead of him, you were feeling so much all at once, it was all so new and overwhelming. You couldn’t wait to find the raiders, to rip their flesh from their bones with your teeth, to watch their bodies drop, to finally feel some satisfaction. The Ghoul watched you tremble as you marched in front of him. You were at your limit now, he had to be careful not to push you too soon. You had to be ready to face the raiders for both of you, he was running out of time and barely able to stifle his coughing fits anymore.

The Ghoul picked up the trail of the shipment. A half-eaten Brahmin with baskets and crates raided. The bodies of the merchant and bodyguards lay nearby. You followed the mess of the raider prints and found three of them tucked away in a trailer just off the dusty road fast asleep, empty jet inhalers still in hand. Without hesitation you snuck into the trailer, slitting the throats of two of them while The Ghoul dragged the third outside for interrogation. You heard him hit the raider with the butt of his gun as you searched the two who were hunched over, bleeding pitifully from their necks. Nothing but empty jet inhalers and unknown pills. Suddenly you heard The Ghoul coughing outside, you ran to his side. The raider scrambled to his feet desperately trying to make a run for it, but you were quick to whip out your gun. Pulling the trigger, you shot him through the knee, and he tumbled, shrieking and holding his leg. You eased the ghoul to the ground, his eyes blinked rapidly as his vision went cloudy. 

“Hey, don't you dare die on me, fuckin asshole you owe me!” you shook him violently as he grinned that charming smile but gave no other response.

“Shit!” you stood and marched to the raider “that caravan you raided. There were vials of yellow liquid on it, where are they now!?” you ordered 

“I-I dont-” you delivered a harsh smack to his face

“don't wanna hear that bullshit!” You pointed your gun at him “Tell me where the vials are or die!” 

“Dax took em, don't even know what the fuck they are “your eyes narrowed at his name. Dax, the so-called leader of your clan, was a vile and cruel man. He forced chems into his family, corrupted and manipulated everyone. At one point you worshipped him but now you realise how pathetic he is. Cowering behind his clan and using chems to control raiders. 

“Where!?“

“A n-new settlement just down the road just, please… D-Dont-” you didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, your bloodlust at boiling point. You had no patience left, too many emotions swirled inside you like a storm and this new worry for The Ghoul tipped you over the edge.

You were firm but not harsh as you brought The Ghouls face up by the chin with your fingers to meet his gaze.

“I will not abandon you” you made sure to speak slowly and clearly so he could understand you, but when he didn't respond with anything more than a slow blink you collided your lips with his in a messy kiss. All the times you had fucked, and he never kissed you, you never even wondered why, it was just normal to you, and you weren’t exactly the romantic type so you didn’t care, but some instinct took over you. Not sure what you were doing or how to kiss properly you hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you and take the lead. Thankfully, you felt his lips smirk and he glided his tongue across your bottom lip, followed by gentle nibbling with his teeth to keep the fire burning in you.

“Wait for me, Cowboy” you almost moaned the words into his lips before abruptly making your way to your clan's new settlement. 

You were lucky, the settlement had barely been built and raiders were so high they were either passed out or stumbling around the half-built shacks. You watched from a distance before creeping closer to the half-built walls and finally spying through a crack in the rusty metal. There were fewer raiders than you remember, like a destroyed ant colony desperately trying to rebuild. You watched them stumble around mumbling to themselves, it was a miserable sight. One raider who you assumed was attempting to keep watch, but failing terribly began to drift away from the rest of the colony. As he strolled closer to the gate you grabbed him from behind, dragging him outside of the settlement walls, your arm around his neck, blocking his airways. He gasped and spluttered for a while before going limp in your arms. After a moment longer, you released him and nabbed his armour, making sure to keep your face from view, you tried to blend in. Stumbling around like the others, you looked for anyone familiar, but you didn’t even recognise your former family. Everything in the settlement was half built and shoddily done, apart from one building; the tallest and only one that looked remotely complete stood tall but greatly misshapen. You snuck into the b building to find Dax high as a kite on a makeshift throne of wood and metal, all sorts of chems littered the floor at his feet. He gazed at the ceiling completely oblivious to your presence as you began rummaging around for the yellow vials. You scowled at him, as he slowly brought his faraway gaze to you, disgust clear on your face.

“That anyway to greet an old friend” he slurred.

“Ain’t no friend of mine, Dax. Where’s the yellow vials?” you brought your gun up, finger on the trigger, although he seemed so high he could barely see you knew he was a ruthless killer who shouldn’t be underestimated.

Dax laughed harshly and once he started, he couldn’t stop, wheezing through his words he choked out “thought you…were done…with chems!”

You looked around frantically before finally spotting your prize behind his chair, a bag overflowing with little vials of yellow liquid. You grabbed it, but Dax was quicker than you expected, he fired from the hip just grazing your abdomen. You took cover behind his chair, firing your own pistol through the flimsy wooden slats of his throne. He grunted; the dark silhouette curled over grabbing at the fresh wound you had made. You took the opportunity to run up the stairs at the back of the room as he flailed his gun around, shooting wildly in a fit of rage. You didn’t look back as you hooked the back of chems over your shoulder and scrambled through a makeshift window, clumsily lowering yourself to the ground.

The gunshots had alerted the others and the adrenaline sent you into a frenzy. Darting behind cover of the half build settlement your aim was better than ever and lucky for you, theirs was just as bad as it ever was. You were able to clear a path to a gap in the fence but as you ran a stray bullet caught your leg sending you rolling into the dust. You rolled behind the wall and as the raider who shot you turned the corner you plunged your knife deep into his belly, using his body as a shield as you shot your last remaining bullets at the ones who followed. There was no time to stay stationary but with no cover you had limited options. You quickly injected yourself with your only stimpak before sprinting to the row of trees. It took mere moments for you to dive into the bushes and out of sight, but it felt like a lifetime and you hadn’t even noticed a second bullet had hit your shoulder till you felt the warm blood trickle down your arm. Gunshots still fired around you and you knew it was only a matter of time before the Molotov’s would start engulfing you. Crawling through the bushes to conceal your location as much as possible, you began to feel weak, the fire inside you burned out from your injuries. Finally, with bullets narrowly missing you, you made it to the edge of the sparse patch of woodland and the Molotov’s started rapidly consuming the bushes. You stumbled out of the trees, attempting to run once more down the dusty road.

The sounds of bullets and explosions began to fade but you knew they’d follow you. Your limp eased as the stimpack provided some relief, but the bullet lodged in your shoulder occupied your thoughts. You leaned against the wall of an old red rocket station, wincing at the pain which only worsened every passing minute. You were so distracted you hadn’t noticed you were being watched until someone dragged you roughly in the building. You let out a yelp of surprise as your body was thrown like a doll to the ground, just as you were about to go feral once more a gloved hand covered your mouth and you saw through hazy eyes the familiar cowboy silhouette crouched beside you. Relief overwhelmed you to see him still alive, without hesitation you unhooked the back of chems from your shoulder and he began devouring them like a starved animal letting out long sighs of relief after every vial. It took mere moments for him to get back to his charming self and take the lead again. You both took a moment to breathe, sitting against the metal door listening to the raiders fight from a distance.

“Thought you said they were a bad aim?” he spoke in a hushed tone as the sounds of shouting outside grew louder. You rolled your eyes at him.

“They got lucky…Y’know I’m really trying not to die, here” he chuckled before leaning you over to get a better look at the wound. You hissed at the movement and flinched as he moved your clothes around.

“Got you good, Princess” He mumbled. The sounds of the raiders had almost reached you but you weren’t worried about them anymore and nor was The Ghoul. He tutted as he moved you back to lean against the door. The sudden chill of the metal against your clammy skin made you gasp. He turned his gaze from you to the raiders outside searching the perimeter.

“Sit tight, Darlin” you knew he was smiling in anticipation, even with his back to you, you knew there was a gleam of excitement in his eyes. 

You sat and watched as he mowed down each raider one by one with incredible precision, barely dipping below the window for cover. He flowed into a rhythm, never missing a beat as he shot each one down before they even realised what was happening or where they were being shot from.

“Show off” Your voice was raspy as exhaustion set in, but you still held onto the faint smile that graced your lips as you joked with him. He chuckled in response before kneeling over you. He wrapped one arm under your legs and the other behind your back, you groaned in pain but still leaned into him as he lifted you up and moved you onto a shabby looking bed in a small office. He sat you down on the edge of the squeaky bed frame, so you were facing away from him, you heard him rummage around his coat before flinching at his touch once more. He removed your armour with deft hands and began to lift your shirt, guiding it carefully over your arms. You shivered at the cool air touching your bare breasts thinking how hot this would be if not for the bullet lodged in your shoulder. You stole a glance over your shoulder at him, astounded at the hunger in his eye as he removed one of his gloves with his teeth. His eyes drank in the warm crimson liquid against your flesh and your breathing quickened in anticipation, fully expecting him to lick the length of your spine. But he didn’t. Instead, he refocused himself, bringing his bare hand to the hole in your shoulder. You snapped your head back to look at the wall in front of you, inspecting every crack to distract yourself from the anticipation of pain. He wasn’t gentle as he sunk his fingers into the wound. You cried out, body tensing up, tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you dug your fingers into the mattress to ground yourself. 

“F-Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You cried through gritted teeth as he pinched the bullet before easing it out. You collapsed forward breathing heavily, sweat dripped from your forehead, your ears were ringing, and your shoulder throbbed so much you didn’t notice him leave to pick up the stimpack from the bedside table. Even the prick of the needle in your flesh was barely noticeable. You watched him search the room before he scavenged the rest of the red rocket station. Whether he did this to prevent himself from giving into temptation and licking the drying blood from your body, or allow you some time to recover, you would never know. 

Testing your abilities, you sat up, stretching your shoulder. The dull ache that resided there was a much easier pain to tolerate than the weeping bullet hole it once was. You sighed as you rose from the bed, catching a glimpse of your half naked form in the broken mirror on the wall.

“Fucking hell” you muttered, realising just how filthy you were, dripping in blood and sweat, tears stained your grimy cheeks and you contorted your body to examine the fresh scar on your shoulder, wrapping your arms around your breasts to try and wipe the blood away for a better view.

“Hooo now that’s a pretty sight!” you jumped at The Ghouls voice, eyes darting from the broken mirror to the cowboy leaning against the door frame, eyes locked hungrily on you. Suddenly very aware of your nudity you avoided his gaze, blushing as you’re reminded of the way he watched your blood drip down your back earlier on. He grinned at your coyness before tossing you an old washcloth and soap.

“There’s a water pump round the back” he said as he laid a few bottles of unlabelled alcohol on the bedside table. When you didn’t respond he brought his face down to your ear and whispered huskily “unless you want me to lick you clean” you felt your knees wobble and your heart skipped a beat. You gulped, struggling to find the words until you felt the warmth of his breath move down your neck.

“Y-You know I’m not good with words” you sighed as he began to drag his tongue up your neck, you felt him smile against your skin.

“I know, that’s why ya so fun to play with, darlin”

“So…you’re not mad at me anymore?” you finally asked, his hands found your hips, caressing them before pulling them into his.

“Was never mad at you, Darlin” despite his possessive grip, his lips were gentle against your flesh.

“But you’ve barely even looked at me for days!” you pouted “Thought you didn’t want me anymore” he suddenly stopped and started to pull away from you, worried he would let his guard up again, you grabbed him by the shoulders and forced his eyes to meet yours in a harsh glare.

“Don’t you dare push me away again, you bastard!” Growing irritated by playing by his rules you brought a hand to the back of his neck and forced him into a rough kiss taking him by surprise. It was hot and chaotic, you battled for power over him which he submitted to with little resilience and when you were sure he wouldn’t run away again your hands travelled down to his chest, pushing the coat from his shoulders. Your fingers traced the frayed seams of his collar before dragging down his chest and abdomen, playing with the buckle of his belt, he inhaled sharply as your fingers grazed his clothed cock and your heart raced at the reaction he gave you. It was so different being in control, exciting but also daunting, you had no idea what you were doing but you wanted to feel good, to make him feel good.

He gripped your hips again, unable to resist asserting dominance over you and you gasped as he pushed you against the wall, your nipples brushed against the rough fabric of his shirt. You pulled away momentarily to catch a glimpse of the predatory gaze you loved so much.

“Think it’s about time I got my reward doncha think, Cowboy?” 

He chuckled, gently dragging one hand up your ribs before tracing the length of the scar he left on your breast reminding him of the first time he claimed you. A sudden seriousness crossed his features as he thought, still tracing the small scar. You didn’t interrupt, instead taking the palm of his other hand where his own scar lay, you brought it up to your lips leaving small kisses before tracing it with your tongue, slowly, hungrily. A playful reminder that you had marked each other, he watched you with a smirk, he had finally decided.

“Cooper…call me Cooper” his voice was soft, not like the harsh man you’d travelled with. You smiled, before repeating his name, matching his tone.

“Cooper…pleased to meet you” he flashed you that charming smile before pulling you into another heated kiss, it was different this time, his walls were down, and he was allowing himself to be vulnerable with you. You pulled him closer wanting to feel more of him before dragging your hands under his shirt, feeling every inch of textured flesh across his abs. His breathing quickened as the kiss became messy, your touch making him go wild, he brought his knee between your legs and his hands returned to your hips, rocking them back and forth on his knee. You released a string of weak moans in his mouth at the much-needed friction as he forced you to grind on him. Your lips parted from his, but you stayed a whisper away, sharing heavy breaths as you felt the heat rising in your belly, your hips twitched every time your clit rubbed against the fabric of your undergarments, the tortuous stimulation of too much pleasure but at the same time not enough. 

“...Cooper…” You whispered a moan against his lips, a plea for more, you loved how his name felt on your lips. Something snapped within him at the sound of you begging for him, his patience had worn out, he needed to hear you say it again. He attacked your neck with his teeth, the sudden aggression took you by surprise and you inhaled sharply at the feel of his teeth bruising your neck like a starved animal. His grip on your hips became almost unbearably tight but you didn’t dare pull away, this possessive side he had held back for weeks overwhelmed him and it excited you, submitting to him completely. 

“F-fuck…Cooper!” You whined as your hips twitched, the overstimulation of your clit becoming too much for you. The Ghoul grinned victoriously against your neck, he could listen to that sweet voice moaning his name all night, and he planned to. He pulled away from you before spinning you around and pulling you in front of the cracked mirror on the wall, you gazed at your reflection, pink cheeks, dried blood staining your shoulder and sweat coating your perky tits, you had never seen yourself like this, so helpless, messy and damn hot, he watched you curiously from behind, a proud gleam in his eye at your reaction to yourself.

“Like what you see, Darlin?” he whispered lowly into your ear as he brought his hands up to your tits, you nodded in response, your lips parted as your breath caught in your throat at the sudden attention he gave your hardened nipples. You bit your lip as he pulled and grabbed your flesh, it was shameful how much you enjoyed seeing yourself like this, you glanced away from your tits for a moment to catch his hungry gaze. Those perfect predatory eyes bore into you, watching every move you made, every twitch, every breath, it was all for him, because of him. You arched your back feeling his hardened cock through the fabric of your clothes, you smirked at your reflection and swayed your hips against him, feeling him grow harder behind you.

His hands travelled down your body to the waistband of your jeans and to your disappointment out of the mirror's frame. He pulled the blood-stained material down your legs and tossed them away, before turning his attention to your undies.

“Eyes on the mirror, Princess” he ordered, catching you watching him crouched behind you. You frowned but turned your attention back to your reflection, eager to know what he was planning. He smirked, seeing the apprehension on your face before slowly dragging a finger along the length of your clothed slit. You jumped at the sudden touch, even though his movements were slow, being unable to see what he was doing heightened your sensitivity. You thrust your hips back, grinding against his hand, watching as your face contorted in pleasure, you heard him chuckle behind you.

“Good girl! better keep singing for me, Princess, understand?” You nodded quickly in response earning a harder spanking from him as he abused your clothed clit. Another lewd sound escaped you.

“So wet for me already, such a filthy little thing” He teased, and you bit back a moan as his fingers became rougher with you, almost to punish you for being so dirty. He knew you were holding back, and he didn’t like it, colliding his free hand with the flesh of your ass cheek with a harsh smack.

“A-ah!” you let a surprised moan escape you.

“Understand!?” he asked more forcefully this time, demanding an answer from you.

“Yes, Cooper” Where you would normally call him Sir you instead moaned his name breathlessly knowing it would drive him crazy, he groaned “good girl” in response before dragging your undies down your legs. You spread your legs, presenting him with your ass expecting to feel his fingers gliding across your wetness but taken by surprise once again by the feel of his tongue, licking the length of your soaked slit.

“Oh fuck!” you bucked your hips at the unexpected sensation, your body folding under the pleasure he gave you. You leaned against the wall, hands on either side of the mirror as you watched the expression on your face change from hot and bothered to positively shameless and filthy while his tongue lapped up your wetness. He dragged his fingernails down your back leaving long red marks in your skin, the pain stung in the most blissful way and when he reached the soft flesh of your ass he caressed and kneaded your cheeks gently stretching them apart before his tongue delved into your gaping hole. Your legs wobbled at the heat of his tongue inside you, moaning softly at your reflection you felt your pussy drip with your own juices and radiated saliva. You reached a shaky hand down and smeared the mixture of fluids across your clit thrusting your ass against his face as a shockwave of pleasure shot through you. Normally you would be punished for touching yourself without permission but this time he let you as part of your reward. 

The dirty sounds of your breathy moans and Coopers licking and sucking cut through the silence of the Red Rocket Station, a thought crossed your mind that other raiders could still be around, but you were past the point of caring. Your fingers moved faster as his tongue explored your fleshy insides, you felt the familiar sensation of release approaching and your moans grew louder as intense pleasure built up in your gut.

“Oh!…please, Cooper…don’t stop!” All shame abandoned you as you chased your release, one of his hands spanked you once more, encouraging your orgasm. You watched your jaw drop and tongue roll from between your lips as your hips thrust against his face, riding his tongue until your eyes clouded with lust and your body convulsed. You watched yourself cum through half lidded eyes as pleasure shot through you like an electric shock. 

Cooper chuckled as he stood, holding your hips steady behind you. 

“Bet you looked sexy as fuck, cumming like that” he declared, almost regretting that he didn’t see for himself. You watched his hand travel to his pants, hearing the familiar zip and unbuckle of his belt, excitement rose in you once more.

You flashed him a mischievous grin in the mirror “Bet I’ll look even better with your cock inside me.” 

“Such a dirty little slut…” he mumbled with a grin, freeing his cock from the fabric restraints he teased your dripping hole, sliding his hardened length up the wet folds of your pussy to your asshole.

“Only for you” you swayed your hips rubbing his cock against your ass, letting him know how needy you were.

“Atta girl” he rewarded your loyalty with the tip of his cock slowly teasing your entrance, your pussy clenched, desperate to feel more of him. He grinned at your reflection in the mirror, your desperation showed, begging him with your eyes. But he pulled back, curious to see what you would do as he fucked your entrance with the tip of his cock. To his surprise the feral gleam in your eye appeared as you thrust your ass back hard, your pussy swallowing his full length. 

“No…more…teasing!” you growled between thrusts, casting an animalistic glare at him in the mirror as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Your pussy squeezed him as your tits bounced with every thrust.

“Alright, Beastie you’ll get your reward” His eyes narrowed almost casting silent threats at you, but he held his mischievous grin before taking a fist full of your hair and pulling your body towards him. Your back arched and you gasped, feeling his hot cock penetrate deep inside you howled in pleasure. The sight of yourself being controlled by The Ghoul as he fucked you from behind turned you on like never before, you brought your fingers up to play with your swollen nipples, pulling and tugging until it almost hurt. His grin grew as he watched you abuse your tits, such a perfect sight. He kept a steady rythm pounding in and out of your soaked pussy until you were ready for more, he loved hearing you beg and it didnt take long for you to make your needs known. 

“h-harder!” you demanded, your tone was firm, but you were betrayed by the submissive expression on your flustered face. 

He pulled your head by the hair harshly and brought his lips to your ear before huskily whispering “better start begging like a good girl”

“F-fuck… Please, Cooper don't stop!” 

The sound of his name being moaned so filthily from your lips was more than enough for him as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you, setting a brutal pace you could barely keep up with. Your legs shook and the grip on your hair tightened, reminding you that he wouldn't let you go. You removed your hands from your bruised tits to grab him behind you for extra support, your eyes growing hazy as you watched yourself getting fucked dumb in the mirror, you moaned incoherently trying to say his name. 

“C-coop…eerr”

“Who do you belong to?” he hissed in your ear, watching you like a predator as your orgasm approached. 

“Y-ou…” you moaned weakly; it wasn't enough for him so with his free hand he spanked your ass hard. 

“C'mon Princess, you can do better than that. Who do you belong to!?” he demanded again. 

“F-fuck! Cooper… I-I’m yours!” you cried out feeling his cock pulse inside you, he couldn't last much longer with you screaming his name like that.

“Good girl” he growled, angling your head to allow access to your neck where he licked and bit and sucked every inch of your flesh. 

“Oh, Cooper!” you moaned his name over and over as he fucked you like an animal, he’d never been so wild with you before, never had so little control over himself, a positively monstrous look in his eye which send you steamrolling over the edge. Your perfect little cunt squeezed his ghoul cock, and your knees completely gave out under you. 

He released you from his grip and threw you to the bed on your back. It all happened so fast, your vision was blurry, your body shook, and your pussy had no time to recover, before you knew it, he grabbed you by the waist and slammed back into your pulsing hole. You howled in pleasure as he relentlessly pounded your swollen pussy, pulling you by the waist to meet his hard thrusts like you were nothing but a fuck toy for him to use. Your spread your legs wider for him to feel you deeper, taking the hint he dropped your waist and forced your knees up to your chest, pounding you deeper earning the sweetest moans from you. You barely recovered from your last orgasm when another one rolled over your body, the new angle hitting you just right as you squirted all over his cock and your thighs. 

You were glad he laid you down as your body shook violently beneath him. You were an exhausted mess, covered in sweat and cum. his grip on your thighs tightened, your clenching pussy encouraging him to cum. 

“Please…cum inside me, Cooper” you begged weakly. 

“Fuck!” he growled giving into the pleasure

“My good little slut” he locked eyes with you as he spilled his cum deep inside. You let out a satisfied moan feeling his hot cum drip from your hole as he slowly pulled out. He was sensitive, forcing his cum back inside your soaked cunt with his fingers instead of his dick like he normally does. 

You lay on the bed breathing heavily with a silly grin plastered on your face. He dropped beside you, not bothering to adjust himself but tossing his hat beside you which somehow managed to stay on his head throughout your rough session. His breathing matched yours as you lay beside each other in blissful silence for a while, gathering your thoughts and energy. Your fingers gently brushed against his in a moment of tenderness, a pleasant accident which didn't go unnoticed by him. It was unusual for you both to enjoy the softer things in life, but you'd soon come to enjoy being a little gentler in your affections towards one another.

You finally sat up, hissing as your muscles ached and reached for his hat. Dropping it on your head you smiled at him 

“So, where to next, Cowboy?”

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter is a daaaaddy

In which @orion4ever generally requested fics with Daddy Baxter and I decided to write a novel -- this is a series of short little shots of Baxter and MC having a baby and watching that child grow up.

(Note: the baby's name is maybe the corniest thing I have ever done in my entire life but I stand by it and now it is my truth.)

"Do you think maybe you've taken enough tests?" Cove asked, standing next to you in his bathroom.

You looked down at the counter at the neat little line of pregnancy tests. There were different brands, different prices, but they all had the same result.

You were pregnant. With Baxter's baby. And it was NOT planned.

"What are you going to do?" he asked after you didn't answer his first question.

"I'm going to tell him," you responded, trying to project more confidence than you felt.

You and Baxter had been back together for a while at that point, and you'd been living together in Prism Vista City for a couple of years. Your relationship was great, and you absolutely wanted to marry him and have children together. But the plan was for all that to happen in the future.

Life, however, had a different plan.

Cove hyped you up as you collected all the sticks, wrapped them up in the bag from the drug store and threw them away. He kept it going as you walked out to your car to drive home, telling you about how great it would go, how Baxter would be so excited, how you'd be the best mom -- the sweetest words from your sweetest friend.

You tried to keep them in your mind as you made your way back to the apartment. When you made your way up to the front door, you paused, taking in a breath, then went inside.

"There's my girl," Baxter said sweetly, glancing over from the kitchen. The smells wafting through to the living room told you he was almost done cooking dinner.

"Hey," you answered, a bit less enthusiastically than normal.

It wasn't that you thought he'd be mean about it, or disappointed or anything. Not really. It's just that Baxter's original disappearing act left a bigger impression on you than you liked to admit, even now. Logically, you knew there was no chance of him running away. But still, those old feelings were resurfacing and it made you a little uneasy.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, dropping what he was doing to move to stand in front of you.

"Nothing," you said automatically -- you hadn't planned out how to tell him, but you didn't think the doorway would be a great place.

"I know you better than that," he chided, then repeated, "What's wrong?"

His eyes were boring into yours, and it just slipped out.

When he heard those words fall quietly from your lips, he froze. For what felt like forever, he didn't make a sound. He didn't move.

Then he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

All the emotions you'd been trying to hold in let loose, and you started sobbing on his shoulder. He held you, stroking your hair, whispering how much he loved you until you were able to calm down a bit.

He leaned back just enough to look at you and asked, "Are we doing this?"

"I want to," you said, certain of that much.

A wide grin broke out on his face -- not one of his usually little lazy smirks, a full-on smile.

And that's how you and Baxter started on the journey of a lifetime.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"If A goes into C ... then ... no, that can't be right," Baxter said, staring out at all the wood pieces and hardware bits laid out around him.

You were about six months along, your tummy was getting rounder, and he had you sitting on the rocking chair in the room you'd been converting to a nursery like the dainty princess he'd been treating you as for the past several months.

He was putting together a crib for the baby. It was not going well.

After you became pregnant, the two of you had decided that it might be time to find a nice little house in the suburbs, somewhere with a yard and a little more room. Baxter took the task on, spending hours upon hours researching and making calls and talking to the bank. When he found some real contenders, he'd taken you out to see them, and that's how you found your new home.

And yes, he'd assured you, the ice cream truck came down this street.

Looking down at your boyfriend reading a packet of assembly instructions like it was the most indecipherable text known to man, you couldn't help but laugh.

"I do believe we're missing something," he muttered, not hearing you.

This had been going on for an hour, and he hadn't gotten anywhere. Baxter was beautiful and sweet and graceful and so many good things, but he certainly wasn't a handyman.

"Ok, that's enough."

He looked up when you stood, then got up himself, moving to you.

"You should be resting, darling," he said, putting his hands on your waist. "Sit back down, let me take care of this. Please."

"I'm pregnant, Baxter, not helpless," you laughed, snaking your arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

He smiled -- he had been making quite the fuss over you since you'd told him the big news, but he didn't mind a bit. He actually enjoyed it very much. After all, you were giving him the greatest gift -- a family -- and the least he could do was pamper you while your body created an entire human being.

"I like taking care of you," he reminded you. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another on your temple.

"Then stop messing around with this stupid crib and mess around with me instead," you said.

He raised an eyebrow, but your remark wasn't a huge surprise. Pregnancy hormones were intense, and after you got through an unpleasant first trimester, you'd gotten pretty ... fiesty.

"What kind of man would I be to deny the mother of my child something she asks for?" he asked.

"No kind of man at all," you replied, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

If Baby Ward ever asked where their antique crib came from, you'd have to come up with a good answer. "Your dad couldn't figure out IKEA instructions and your mom was too horny to help him" just didn't sound like a great story to pass on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were exhausted, more exhausted than you'd ever been in your life by far. If you'd been in any another situation, you would have passed out a long time ago and slept as long as humanly possible.

But the sight of Baxter standing in your hospital room, cradling your newborn baby girl with such a look of love and devotion on his face was enough for you to keep your eyes open.

"She's perfect," he told you softly. "Absolutely perfect."

The baby, who you still hadn't named yet, gave a little coo, and you'd swear if he wasn't so intent on holding her so carefully he would have melted right into the floor.

"Daddy loves you," he told her, using a mix between his normal fancy voice and a baby-talk tone that he'd been using throughout your pregnancy when talking to your tummy -- it was equal parts adorable and hilarious. "Daddy is going to take care of you and mommy forever and ever, you little angel, daddy's little princess ..."'

He went on like that for a while. It could have been the exhaustion, but you thought you saw actual hearts in his eyes once.

After a bit, the baby started crying. Baxter swiftly handed her to you, and you started a breastfeeding attempt. He stayed right by your side, helping you angle her around and move her head to try to find the best latch. Once you'd found it, you smiled up at him.

"I think I know what her name is," you told him.

"Oh?" he asked. "Do share."

"Penelope. Penny for short."

He smirked at the reference to one of his old favorite sayings, then looked down at the baby. He studied her for a moment, then looked back to you.

"Penny Ward," he said, giving you a quick kiss. "One of the two lights of my life."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Penny ... baby, please ..." you cried, holding your six-month-old daughter in your arms as she cried right along with you.

She was teething, a sharp little top of a tooth poking through her gums, and she didn't care for the feeling one bit. You'd tried everything -- teething rights, soft frozen foods, tylenol, walking, sitting, lying down. Nothing was working.

"Daddy's home," you heard from the doorway. Baxter had been off working a wedding, and you hadn't heard him come in over the sound of Penny's screams.

He walked directly to you, still in his self-designated work uniform of a black shirt and slacks, and took the baby from you.

"I've got her," he said, rubbing her back lightly. "Why don't you take care of yourself? Bed, dinner, a bath, perhaps? What do you need?"

You leaned against the wall, still crying yourself and not sure how to respond. You watched as Baxter kissed Penny on the cheek and moved with her across the room in a little waltz. He'd done this since she was born -- she liked being walked around, but why would Baxter walk when dancing was just as easy?

She settled down a bit in his arms -- a daddy's girl, through and through.

"Can I take a shower?" you asked. "Then I can get her to sleep while you get ready for bed."

"Absolutely not," he told you. "And miss an evening with one of my favorite girls?"

"You worked all day," you reminded him. "You need to rest."

"I think we both know I've got quite the knack for burning the midnight oil."

The two of you had a bit of a stare down, but you were too tired, and Baxter with your baby in his arms was too sweet.

"Ok, fine," you finally said. "I'll take a shower and lay down for a little while, but you come get me soon so you can go to bed."

"Absolutely," he said in a way that actually meant "absolutely not."

Still, you wandered off to change out of your vomit-stained shirt and hop in the shower, completely drained but completely aware of how much you'd lucked out with Baxter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You'd been with Baxter for a long time. You'd seen him at his highest and at his lowest, at his most confident and in the depths of his self hatred.

But you don't think anything quite compared to the Baxter you saw in front of you -- the Baxter who was standing in a hospital room, watching his four-year-old daughter wailing with a broken arm.

He had taken Penny to the park while you got some work done, and she'd fallen off the swing and landed funny on her arm. That was all, a normal childhood injury. Of course it was difficult to see your child in pain, but you could tell Baxter was also blaming himself.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he said softly, standing by the bed. He had one hand on her head, holding it against him, and the other was grasping the hand on her uninjured arm.

"You've got to be a brave girl, ok?" you said. You were kneeling in front of her, careful for the doctors who were at a small table by the bed, preparing to anesthetize her so they could set her arm in a cast.

"But it hurts!" she sobbed. "I want to go home!"

Baxter tensed a bit, and when you glanced up at him you saw tears in his eyes. Still, he did his best to hold it together for his pride and joy.

"I'll tell you what," he said, gripping her hand. "You just be brave for a little longer, then tomorrow we can do whatever you like. Movies all day, candy for breakfast, a toy store shopping spree -- just name it."

You glanced at him again. This girl could take this guilt trip for a major ride if she wanted.

Penny's sniffles slowed down a little as she looked up at her father. "Can we play princesses?"

"We'll be the prettiest princesses in all the land," he replied with no hesitation.

That seemed to make her happy, then the doctors were ready. They put her to sleep, then ushered you and Baxter out of the room while they got to work.

"I'm so sorry," Baxter gasped, all the emotion falling out of him now that his daughter wasn't there to see it. "It happened so quickly -- I should have been closer, I should have caught her ..."

"It was an accident," you told him simply as you pulled him into a hug. "That's all. It's not your fault."

"But it is," he argued. "I was there, I was taking care of her. If she'd fallen differently, if something else had happened, I don't --"

"Stop," you cut him off. "There's no reason to think like that. You're an amazing father. This was an accident. Don't beat yourself up."

He buried his face against your shoulder, and you felt the wetness of his tears. Penny was his world, the thought that he'd put her in danger and inadvertently caused her pain was killing him.

"You're a good father," you repeated. "If I was the one with her at the park, would you blame me?"

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Then why can't you give yourself the same consideration?"

An age old question about an issue that Baxter was better about, but still struggled with. He held himself to an impossibly high standard, one that he'd never expect anyone else to meet.

When he failed to answer, you hugged him tighter. You told him again how wonderful he was, how much Penny loved and adored him. As you were singing his praises, a nurse came out of the room and told you that they were all done.

After a while longer, the little girl was discharged and sent home with a pink cast that gave you some warm and fuzzy feelings of your own childhood. After sleeping in the next morning, she felt better when she woke up, and your little family spent the day as princesses, complete with tiaras, tutus and wands. And you were the prettiest in all the land.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh my god ... oh ... my god."

"Amazing, right?"

Penny, now a precocious ten-year-old, sat on the floor in the bedroom you shared with Baxter, holding an old photograph in her hands. She looked absolutely entranced, which made sense, considering what the picture showed her.

She'd heard of Baxter's infamous monochrome phase. Her aunts and uncles had made plenty of remarks about it over the years -- Uncle Terry was able to paint an especially vivid picture.

He didn't have many pictures at all of himself when he was younger. He'd cut ties with his family years ago, so any photos there were out, and he'd gone through that lengthy phase where he didn't really let himself have friends. He didn't really like being in photos then, although you had managed to snap a couple of him during that summer in Sunset Bird.

And so your daughter had in her hands a picture of Baxter, all of 19 years old, in all his black and white glory.

"Oh my god," she repeated.

The man himself appeared in the doorway then. He'd been about to announce that dinner was almost ready, but seeing the scene before him, he stopped.

You looked from the photograph back up to Baxter, taking in all the changes that the past two decades had brought. The black and white hair was gone of course, and he'd long been able to wear actual colors. He'd put on a few pounds too -- after all, he wasn't 19 anymore. The smirk though, that was definitely the same.

"Dad, can I be honest?" Penny asked.

"Always," he answered easily.

"You looked ridiculous. Like really. What were you even thinking?"

"I don't know, I think there was a certain charm there," he teased, leaning over her to get a better look at the picture. "I wonder, do you think I could pull that off again? Perhaps a trip to the salon is in order."

"No."

"Oh, come on," he continued. "It wasn't nearly as bad a look as you seem to think. After all, your mother liked it well enough."

"Gross," she cried, standing up and placing the photo on the bed. "I'm going to my room so I don't have to hear this. I'm traumatized."

You laughed as your dramatic daughter did a full-body shake to emphasize how scarred she was. After she was gone, you turned to Baxter, who was grinning at you.

"It wasn't that ridiculous, was it?" he asked, knowing that it, in fact, was that ridiculous and more.

"It's what's inside that counts," you told him, going in for a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Look up ... more ... keep your eyes open, I've almost got it."

After a moment, Penny pulled back and examined Baxter's face. She nodded, satisfied at the look of the eyeliner she'd applied on him.

She was 16 now, and she'd developed a flair for the dramatic like her father had when he was a teenager. Instead of a monochromatic look, she preferred dark colors and heavy makeup. She'd also grown out of her "ugh, parents" stage early, which was why she was letting Baxter take her to a concert.

It was a metal band he liked, and when she heard him playing it in the car, she liked it too. He found tickets to a show they were doing nearby, and you encouraged him to take her on a daddy-daughter date.

That's why you were gathered in the bathroom together -- she had to put a little makeup on him so he fit in.

"I've got some leather pants I'm going to wear as well," he told her. "And for my shirt, I was thinking perhaps I skip it and instead put on a matching leather vest. What do you think?"

After 16 years of living with Baxter, Penny was no longer bothered by his constant teasing. She went on with her business, smudging the eyeliner before beginning to apply a dark blush.

"Whatever you want, dad," she answered. "Whatever you wear, I'm sure you'll be the prettiest princess in all the land."

Baxter was already thrilled to be going out with her, but after hearing the old callback to her favorite childhood game, you could see he was melting.

When the makeup was done, he got dressed -- not in the leather ensemble he suggested -- and you waved them off as they left for the concert.

After they returned home that night, Penny was ecstatic, and so was Baxter. You listened as they went on about how great the show was, and how excited she was to experience her first mosh pit. A hint of anger flashed across her face when she mentioned a guy who was too rough and nearly knocked her down, but then she smiled when she told you her dad had taken care of it.

"What did you do?" you asked suspiciously.

"I took care of it, darling," he answered, giving a quick wink to Penny

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Years later, you found yourself taking in a familiar site, something you'd seen hundreds, if not thousands of times before.

Baxter was standing in front of you, nervously smoothing out his suit.

"Do I look all right?" he asked.

"As handsome as always," you told him.

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss, then ran his hands down his jacket again.

It was Penny's wedding day, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look as anxious as he did then.

He had planned the wedding -- of course he had. While he always took his job seriously, doing his very best to give his clients the best experience he possibly could, this time was just different. He went above and beyond, pouring himself into every detail to ensure his daughter had her dream day.

You and Penny had had to convince him to bring on a partner of sorts, someone to execute everything during the actual wedding so he could enjoy it. But you'd watched him keep a close eye on everything anyway, totally read to jump in if needed.

But right now, his mind was on something else. The reception was about to begin, which meant it wasn't too long until the father-daughter dance.

And Baxter was taking that dance very seriously.

He watched the newlyweds take their first dance, grabbing for your hand as you both looked on with pride. It was such a special feeling, knowing that your child had found someone who meant as much to her as you meant to each other.

Before you knew it, the music changed and Penny found you in the crowd gathered around. She gestured for Baxter to join her, and with one more tug at his tie, he walked towards her.

Watching them dance together was always so lovely, but it was a little different this time around. A lifetime of dances came to mind -- Baxter and Penny dancing around the kitchen when she was a cranky infant who refused to go to sleep, them dancing around her bedroom in their princess gear. You remembered him teaching her the basics of ballroom dancing as she prepared for her first school dance so she'd feel confident. He'd showed her all the trendy dances that were popular when you and her were kids, and although she pretended to die of embarrassment, she did laugh after he taught her how to Dougie.

You wondered how many more chances you'd get to see them like this, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Things had changed so much, and they only kept changing. It was a bittersweet feeling.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts, you met Baxter's eyes as he moved Penny around the dancefloor. Instead of getting caught up in the uncertainties of the future, you let your heart swell with love.

Against all odds, you'd created a family with him. After a number of chance meetings and a couple of false starts, you'd built a life with him -- you'd put decades of blood, sweat and tears into it. And it was beautiful.

When Baxter led Penny by you, she stuck out her arm and snatched yours, dragging you into the dance as well. He laughed with delight, content to stop the more elaborate routine to wrap his arms around his two best girls and sway together.

"We did good," you told him quietly, glancing over at your daughter.

"We certainly did."

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 3

Chapter 2: Revelation

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.8k

Unfortunately, Thatch’s first meal back didn’t agree with you either. Your meal lasted about thirty minutes before you had thrown it back up again. 

Ace, ever the kind hearted soul, held your hair and rubbed your back, whispering encouraging words to you. Once you finally finished emptying the contents of your stomach, he helped you back to your room, and got you into bed. 

“I’m going to go get Marco,” he said, tucking you in.

“No!” you pleaded. “Please Ace. He gets so weird about me being sick. Just leave it alone until morning. I’ll be better by then. Please.”

You gave him your best doe-eyed look, pouting just enough to make him cave to your wishes. 

“Fine,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But if you’re not better by tomorrow…”

“I promise I’ll go.” You knew you wouldn’t be able to get away with one more day of illness after Thatch was back. Even if you didn’t go of your own volition, Marco would hunt you down and force you to run tests. Might as well seem like a willing participant when everyone else wanted you to do it. 

“Okay,” Ace agreed. “Do you want me to-”

“Go.” You waved him on. A party was surely about to start, and you knew that Ace needed to be social for a few hours. “Go have fun. I’ll just sleep here with Jinx.”

Ace smiled at that. “I’m glad the two of you are finally getting along.”

You rolled your eyes. “Only took her three months to realize I’m not going anywhere.”

“Love you,” Ace whispered, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. 

“Love you.”

The door shut, and you were plunged into darkness, the only light coming from your window. 

You tossed and turned most of the night. The bed felt simultaneously too big and too small, too hot and too cold. You could feel sweat dripping down your back as you flipped back and forth. It was miserable. You were miserable.

After hours of tossing and turning, Ace finally came back into the room. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Come with me. The stars look amazing tonight.”

You frowned. “The moon is too bright tonight for the stars to be worth it,” you argued. “I don’t feel well enough to go for mediocre stars.”

“No,” he whispered, his voice getting slightly louder. “There's no moon tonight.”

You gave a slight laugh. He must’ve been really drunk if he couldn’t find the moon. “Ace, it’s definitely a half moon tonight. The moon cycle doesn’t change.”

And neither did your cycle. You always had your period between the half and the quarter moon, which hadn’t happened yet.

“I’ll show you!” Ace said, picking your hand up and dragging you out of bed. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was, how effortlessly he could pull you along when he wanted to. 

You followed him, laughing at his confidence. Perhaps the alcohol and the ship lights had confused him as to what was a moon and what were lights. 

As you walked, you watched his gait closely, and realized he wasn’t drunk.You had gotten pretty good at figuring out how many drinks he had based on his walking abilities. He had probably only had two or three beers through the night. Surely he was just confused. 

It was late, the entire ship quiet and eerie with just the two of you walking through the halls. During your journey to the deck, you only passed one other person. Teach. 

“Hey you crazy kids!” Teach laughed, looking at you and Ace. “What are you up to so late at night?”

“Gotta prove a point,” Ace laughed. “What about you?”

“Ah, just getting one step closer to my dreams, that’s all.” Teach cackled at his own statement and gave you a wink. “What point are you proving tonight, Ace?”

“He claims there’s no moon tonight.” You rolled your eyes to show that you clearly didn’t believe him.

“No moon?” Teach cackled, the boom of his voice making you flinch. “Well he’s right about that. It’s a no moon night. Hard to see out there. Be careful you two. Never know what’s around the corner. ”

“See ya tomorrow!” Ace called as he pulled you along, away from your conversation. 

It should’ve struck you as strange that Teach was heading for the commander's hall so late at night, but you were too focused on the fact that another person said it was a no moon night. Based on your calculations, you shouldn’t be anywhere near a no moon night. It didn’t make any sense. 

When you got out onto the deck, it was dark and silent. The party was over, all of the lights extinguished. 

And there was no moon. 

“Impossible,” you whispered, your mind starting to race. 

“Told you!” He boasted. “And I’ll have you know I hardly drank anything at all, so I know what I’m talking about!”

He led you back to the rear of the ship, your mind running at a hundred miles. When was the last time you had your cycle? Had you even had one last month? You usually followed these things so closely, but you had been so busy recently you hadn’t kept track of time. 

And you and Ace were painfully careful. Ever since the first night full of recklessness, you had been so careful. There hadn’t even been a time when-

The onsen, you realized with horror. The two of you had certainly not been careful then. You had been busy all night, and protection had been the last thing on your mind at that moment. 

Fuck. You hadn’t had a cycle since then. You were certain. Your stomach knotted into a ball of anxiety, and suddenly everything made sense. 

The loss of appetite. The sickness. The inability to control your body temperature and devil fruit ability. Your body was reacting to some foreign thing inside of you. Something that had been growing for two months. Even Jinx seemed to realize it. No wonder she was being nice to you recently. 

You resisted the urge to run over to the edge of the ship and vomit, sick with this new revelation. Had Marco realized it before you? Is that why he was so insistent on running tests? If Marco found out, then he would be obligated to tell your father. And you would be pulled from all your duties. Nobody would listen to a pregnant strategist. Nobody would let a girl with a baby do any fighting. Your life as you knew it would be over. 

You were panicking, but you tried not to let it show externally. You had to remain calm. You had to figure out where Ace stood on this matter first. 

As the two of you laid on the ship deck and stared at the stars, you finally worked up the courage to ask the question. 

“How do you feel about kids?” you asked, keeping your voice as neutral as possible. You could only hope he wouldn’t be able to hear your heart drumming in your chest. 

“Kids?” Ace asked. “They’re okay, I guess.”

“Do you want some of your own?”

Ace gave a dry laugh, the kind that was bitter and angry. “No.”

You looked at him, but he was glaring at the stars. “Really? You don’t want kids?”

“Having kids is selfish,” Ace said, acid laced into his words. “People who have children just want their own legacy. That's not fair to any kid.”

“I get that, but-”

“Look,” Ace said, his voice full of fury. “My father was a criminal and my mother died in childbirth. What my mother did was selfish, and my father was narcissistic. I never got to know either of them, and yet they thought I should live regardless. I would’ve rather my mother lived than her dying to protect me.”

You didn’t know much about Ace’s parents, except that he didn’t like to talk about it. This was the most he had said on either of them in the entire time that you had known him. 

“Your mother sounds selfless, then. Not the other way around.”

Ace scowled, refusing to look at you. “You’re wrong. She was devoted to the man she loved, which made her devoted to me. But only because she thought I carried his will. I’ll never put another person in that position.” He finally looked at you. “I’ll never put you in that position.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to tell him it was already too late for that. You wanted him to hold you, to tell you it would be okay. You weren’t sure how devoted you were to this child you might be carrying, but you had devoted your heart and soul to him already. 

“Okay,” you said simply. You returned your gaze to the sky, trying to blink away tears before they could form. 

Ace sighed. It was clear he realized that he had gotten too intense. “Besides,” Ace continued. “We’re pirates. Families and happy endings don’t really exist for us, you know? It’s not worth it to dream about a reality we could never have.”

You were tired of hearing his pessimism. You didn’t want to think about what kind of ending awaited you if it wasn’t happy. And so you stood to your feet and brushed the dust off your clothes. 

Ace looked up at you, confused. “Where are you going? We just got here.”

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to you say you won’t get a happy ending. I’m not going to lay here and pretend I’m fine with you being okay with dying, Ace. You promised! You promised you wouldn’t die, so I’m not going to listen to you talk about it like it’s a real possibility!”

You could feel hot tears streaming down your face, and you rushed to catch them before they fell and burned a hole in the deck. 

“Hey, easy now.” Ace stood to his feet, helping you wipe your tears, and then rushing to wipe them on his clothes to avoid being burned. “I didn’t realize this was a big deal. I thought we were just talking.”

“It’s not a big deal!” you fussed. “I just don’t want you talking like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Ace whispered, pulling you in for a hug. You could feel him stiffen at the temperature of your body, but he didn’t complain. He held you while you cried, waiting for your body to still again.

“Do you want kids?” he finally asked once you settled down. 

He hadn’t expected you to start crying again at his question, and you could feel his grip tighten against you. You knew he was confused, but thankfully he didn’t try to solve the mystery.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, rubbing your back, trying his best to soothe you as your body continued to heat back up. 

“I don’t know what I want,” you sobbed. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Ace said. “Today was full of a lot of emotions. Maybe we should just go to bed.”

“Okay,” you whimpered. You were exhausted. You blamed the little parasite in your body for all your mood swings. You blamed it for everything. 

Tomorrow would be a new day, where you could solve this problem together. Now, you just needed sleep. 

The two of you walked to bed arm in arm, unaware of just how much your life was about to change.

--

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