#post pregnancy wardrobe

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do how they would be when your pregnant ot8

ATEEZ during your pregnancy ❤︎ ot8

Pairing: ot8 headcanons Genre: fluff, mentions of smut Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: pregnancy discussion, talk, sexual bits (not a whole lot of smut I promise) A/N: This took a surprisingly long amount of time I'm sorry!! I'm not sure if you meant ateez or not, I assumed so since that's what I've been posting recently. If not please send me an ask and I will do this for another group! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 @cozypaint If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

🔞Content Below the Break🔞

Hongjoong

The absolute worst (best)

Scolds you for "doing too much" aka walking up the stairs or picking up a gallon of milk.

Buys you the most expensive brand of prenatal vitamins despite your doctor insisting the cheap ones are fine

Checks on you via text every hour when he's not with you

^ and when he is with you

Is lowkey afraid of failure as a father, reads parenting articles

Sends you decaf coffee at work

Wants to feel your belly but won't unless you invite him to

Teary eyed when he feels the baby kick for the first time

Sampled the heartbeat at the ultrasound visit to use in a song

Writes letters to you and the baby and keeps them in a memory book for you to read later (but you don't know this)

Nursery is fully decked out and the baby already has a full wardrobe

Your crying makes him panic, he hates seeing you cry and will frantically try to soothe you every time

Is grossed out by your cravings but will get them for you anyway—why do you have to crave vegetables?

Sex is soft and lazy in the best way

Side sex (think sunday morning sex except any day) >>>

Like imagine his chest against your back, his cheek against yours, one of his hands keeping your leg up so he has room to fuck you, asking if it feels good and if you're comfortable, except he's kind of whining and breathless ~

No pregnancy kink but thinks you're breathtaking, as always

^ even when you haven't showered, your legs are hairy, etc. He thinks you're a work of art

Plays music for you and the baby, asks what he/she responds to and makes note of it

Overprotective, does not like it when people touch you in general, let alone when you're pregnant

Visibly dies inside every time someone's hand goes to your belly without asking you first—would scold people if you'd let him

Posts photos of you each month documenting your pregnancy and leaving a words of appreciation for you

Keeps a copy of the ultrasound photo with him

May not have his hands on you 24/7, but he makes sure you know you're loved as well as the baby

Seonghwa

So freaking soft for you both

Loves babies anyway but your baby??

Him leaning against the headboard so you can lean against him, he'll curl his arms around you and rub your belly while you talk

Talks to the baby, even when you're asleep

"I can feel you kicking in there. Let's let mommy sleep, hm? She gets cranky at daddy when she's tired."

Watches parenting videos

Loves showering with you since you can't take baths

When you joke that there's not much room anymore he'll say he knows that and pulls you closer

Shaves your legs for you when it gets too difficult, even if you're too shy to ask him

Buys you gifts every time he gets something for the baby

"The mom group says it's important for me to make you feel as loved and wanted as the baby."

^ has joined mom groups on social media, because "dad groups are just full of men complaining"

Calls him/her 'the little one'

"How are you? How was the little one today?"

Isn't overprotective but has moments when he hovers

You don't mind

Sex is always slow and full of giggles and him reassuring you when you're out of breath

He likes you on your back so he can kiss you and keep pressure off of you, arms on either side of you to support his weight

Likes taking naps with you even though you're always napping due to exhaustion

^ rarely actually sleeps, just wants to be near you and the baby

Knows your cravings by heart

"Pickle juice and french fries? That's a new one."

His nesting is as bad as yours if not worse; you both frantically clean the house months before the baby arrives

Loves when you send him selfies/belly pics

Isn't fazed by your emotions, helps you work through them and validates you

"Being pregnant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to have feelings, pretty girl. I'm here."

Yunho

Probably the most excited externally

Loves rubbing your belly and watching the baby kick his hand

Unironically purchased the "I'm proof daddy doesn't play video games all the time" onesie

Brings you ice cream even if you don't ask for it

"I'm telepathically linked with our baby, he/she said they want ice cream. I don't make the rules, y/n."

p r e g n a n c y k i n k

"Look at you, so fucking pretty and full."

Sex is unbelievably gentle despite his filthy words

Won't put you on your back, likes to have you in his lap so he can do all the work

Likes taking you out and showing you off, even when you feel like a mess

Posts pictures of you constantly to the point where people joke he's running a y/n maternity account

Foot rubs

Sympathy pains

"Our heartburn is bad today. I want a cinnamon roll. With sprinkles."

Teases you relentlessly

"I'll race you to the kitchen—oh yeah."

Handsy af but you don't mind

Walks up behind you to hold your belly

Sits up at night to rub it when the baby won't settle

He/she loves Yunho's voice and they begin kicking when he speaks

^ he uses this to his advantage

"Mommy's calling herself ugly again, I'm gonna need some backup from my internal ally."

Already 2 v 1 and the thing isn't even here yet

His google search history is worse than yours

^ "can pregnant women eat carrots"

"how long does pregnancy really last"

"how to make pregnant woman stop crying"

"why is my pregnant girlfriend crying"

"why am I crying"

"how to stop crying when your pregnant girlfriend cries"

Loves when people ooh and awe over you; beams and grins like an idiot bc you're his and he put the baby in you.

Yeosang

Seems calm

Is not calm

Is just as protective/concerned as Hongjoong but is so quiet about it you don't even notice

You haven't lifted a grocery bag since he found out about your pregnancy

Has the dates of your appointments memorized

No one touches the belly. He doesn't even say anything to anyone. They just don't.

Does little things to make sure you're extra comfortable, bought you a pregnancy pillow

Whispers to your belly

^ "I'm afraid my voice will scare the baby. I'll just whisper."

Pouts if the baby won't kick for him

You: "Please, Yeosang, for the millionth time fetuses cannot choose favorites! Our baby loves you, I promise!"

King of pregnancy cravings

2 a.m. runs to the convenience store because you want some strawberry milk

Forehead kisses with a hand on your belly >>>

Will literally get on his knees for a chat with him/her

Like imagine looking down and seeing this man smiling up at you, both hands on your tummy with so much love in his eyes I just—

His calm facade dissolves when you cry

It physically hurts him to see you break down and he will do all he can to help you

Talks about you nonstop and your symptoms, experiences, etc literally to anyone with ears

Signs you both up for a parenting class

Cannot believe how horny you are, but is happy to help

^ a little afraid of you tbh but still very much in love

Like Hongjoong, prefers side sex so he can still be close to you

Also loves foreplay/eating you out even more now because of how sensitive you are

Ultrasound visits/pics make him choked up though he tries to hide it

His brain has not processed the fact that his baby is literally inside of you

It isn't going to fully sink in until there's a baby in his arms

^ is never going to put him/her down

San

Proud Dad™

Is excited, but calm

Similar to Yeosang but not as intense

^ still protective, but doesn't mind when people touch your belly as long as they ask first

Buys two copies of baby books for you both to read at the same time

Posts pictures of your pregnancy journey with quotes or long paragraphs about how beautiful you are

lowkey pregnancy kink?

Cautious

Armchair sex/you in his lap - super slow and soft

Loves showering with you after to hold you and massage your back/shoulders

Doesn't necessarily treat you like you'll break but is still very gentle with you

Hugs are softer, he doesn't squeeze as tight, likes to hug you from behind and look over you to see what you're doing

Touches your belly in a reassuring way, likes to brush his hand against it and feel the baby's reaction

Does it in public probably the most of the members, though it's not really intentional

His hands used to go to your waist and now they go to your bump ~

Doesn't talk to the baby as much as he sings to him/her

Is way too excited to take maternity photos

Gets caught staring at you by literally everyone

Does not care

Thinks you hung the stars

Loooooves being snuggled in bed with you with your bump between you, rubbing your belly and whispering as though the baby is sleeping

Is very expressive about his fears/doubts and wants you to be as well

Blushes when people call him daddy

Blushes harder when you call him daddy

Pretty calm when it comes to your emotions, will just go with the flow and give you what you need, whether that's space, affection, or food

secretly hopes you want another one

Mingi

When I tell you this man is terrified

Does not think he can care for a baby despite your reassurance

Asks all the questions

"I mean, how do we know when it's done? You know, like, cooked all the way?"

Oddly protective despite his fears

Does not like anyone touching your belly

Any time someone comments on your size/roundness/etc he's ready to throw hands, does not care if it's the ajumma two doors down from you

You: "Mingi for the love of god, I have told you, you cannot threaten people."

"She threatened you first!"

You: "She just said I look ready to pop??"

Horny af and has a pregnancy kink but will not initiate sex

You have to beg, and even then it's like ~

"No I mean just stand there, and I'll hold you and put it in. Yeah don't move at all."

Will still eat you out daily

Treats you like a glass doll

Belly kisses >>>>>

Buys baby books, gets one page in and declares this is too much to remember and you both should get a refund

^ shrugs at your look of horror "obviously I meant a refund for the books..."

Raps??? at your belly? Like nursery rhyme raps????

Also talks. A lot. Not cooing or baby talk

"Today at practice I slipped and it sucked, kinda hurt my knee. I'm still a good dancer, definitely better than Yunho. I'll show you. But I mean like after you can walk and stuff, or maybe you'll dance before you can walk and we can win money or something. Do they have baby dance competitions?"

Doesn't post the pictures he takes of you and your belly, looks at them when he misses you and won't let anyone else see them

Unironically refers to himself as your baby daddy and changes his contact in your phone [proudly]

When you cry, he cries, so please don't cry

Asks if he can attend his own child's birth

^ is excited when you say "...yes, Mingi. You can attend the birth of our child."

Wooyoung

Knows all there is to know about babies??

Is not concerned at all

Reassures you constantly

You ask him questions

Will lay on your thighs and absentmindedly rub your belly while watching tv or scrolling on his phone

Actually, will rub your belly anywhere, and usually does it without realizing it

Refers to you as mama and himself as dada even out of context

"Do you want a drink, mama?"

Is completely unfazed by your weird cravings and will get them for you as long as it's not harmful

"No, y/n, you cannot have sushi with your oreos. Mercury levels..."

Not overprotective in the slightest

Your biggest advocate

The only member who would fuck you properly while pregnant, as he knows it's safe within reason

Does not have a pregnancy kink, but loves how sensitive you are, the changes to your body, etc and thinks you're a goddess

Loves going shopping with you

Will absolutely argue with you over nursery themes

Finds you adorable when you're emotional, but will still try to calm you down and comfort you

Loves talking about you nonstop

May not praise you to your face as much as the others but tells everyone else he's so incredibly lucky to have you as the mother of his child

He was so clingy before

It's worse

His camera roll is full of selfies with him and your bump

Imagine woo making bunny ears over your belly (and telling your unborn child to say cheese)

Has full on conversations with him/her

Baby talks and coos and informs them they have the best parents ever

Jongho

Probably the most genuinely calm member when it comes to your pregnancy

Still very excited

Does not know as much as wooyoung but is fairly confident, not terrified or anxious like some of the others

Touches your belly from day 1, even without a bump

Sings and hums to it

The baby LOVES his voice and always kicks when he's near

He finds this adorable and loves talking to him/her while touching your stomach

Massages >>>>

Your pregnancy aches are afraid of him

Is a little shaken by your emotions but handles them well

Not too overprotective but really hates it when people touch you

Won't say anything though unless you're uncomfy

Sex?

Dear god

2ho breeding/pregnancy kink is my headcanon and I am sticking with it

Do not make eye contact for more than a few seconds

Is unbelievably horny for you

Doggy style with pillows underneath you >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Is extra gentle despite how badly he wants you

Takes care of you first also ^ he knows it helps you relax so that's always his end goal

Loves the way you look while pregnant

Thinks you're beautiful anyway but something about the fact that you're literally creating a brand new human being

When you wear his t-shirts and nothing else because your clothes don't fit anymore it makes him melt ~

^ he complains for the fun of it but would probably cry if you stopped

Brings you snacks/drinks/whatever without you having to ask

Is willing to try your cravings with you as long as it's nothing vile (frito chips + peanut butter)

Wants to do every social media pregnancy trend with you

*buys your unborn child soccer cleats*

Doesn't post photos of you often but when he does, they're tearjerkers

Wants more kids but knows how difficult pregnancy/motherhood is so ultimately it's up to you

He's the cutest - kissing your temple while snuggling on the couch and rubbing your belly

"Our baby bear"

[fastandcarlos]

Our Little Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: the one that is a series of social posts that journey you and max welcoming your little baby…

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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 407,291 others

ynusername: if there was a competition for man most obsessed with a baby bump max would definitely win btw

37,027 comments

username1: I can’t cope with how adorable these two are 😭

landonorris: if this is an sos yn just lemme know and I’ll hunt him down 😂

maxverstappen1 @/landonorris excuse me for loving my wife and child 🙄

username2: I just know that seashell heart is absolutely max’s creation!!

lilymhe: can you stop making me want to have a baby pls 🥺

alex_albon: @/lilymhe I can very quickly put a stop to that if you want me to!?

ynusername: @/alex_albon stop being a party pooper and give the girl what she wants 😉

username3: can’t wait to see max become the softest dad in the world…

charles_leclerc: can’t wait for the baby to arrive now, do you think you could tell him to hurry up? 😂

schecoperez: the way he talks about your bump in the garage I couldn’t agree with you more!!

username4: have you ever met a cuter couple in your life???

maxverstappen1: and I couldn’t be prouder too…guilty as charged 🙌🏻

username5: poor max will be lost when the baby arrives and yn’s bump disappears 🥺

danielricciardo: I remember the old days when he used to make breakfast like that for me 💔

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you’re welcome to third wheel anytime 😘

username6: these two are goals and no one can tell me otherwise 😂

carmenmmundt: I am so obsessed with how beautiful you and pregnancy are together ✨

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 3,058,172 others

maxverstappen1: life lately…and I wouldn’t have it any other way 🥺🍼

274,071 comments

username7: all the little outfits…I can’t wait to see him in them 🫠

charles_leclerc: dude you are just gonna be the cutest dad in the world with posts like these

landonorris: does this mean I’m as valuable in your life as your wife and child??

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris I wouldn’t quite stretch that far 😂

username8: ofc lando still ended up making the photo dump 😂

redbullracing: admin is still wondering where all the merch is in that wardrobe???

username9: everything about this makes my heart so incredibly happy ✨

carmenmmundt: I spy the orange baby grow that me and george bought for your baby shower 🥺

username10: pls stop max I can’t cope with all these pending dad photos any longer

username11: someone explain why their son is easily gonna be the best dressed kid in the world

schecoperez: just forgetting racing with your favourite teammate like it’s nothing 😭

username12: can’t wait to see max become a dad, he’s gonna be adorable!!

ynusername: so excited for where life is gonna take us over the next few weeks 💕

maxverstappen1 @/ynusername can’t wait to be by your side every step of the way 💙

georgerussell63: jeez we get it you’re having a baby, you’ve barely mentioned it 😂

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liked by schecoperez, lewishamilton and 3,802,749 others

maxverstappen1: he’s here and he’s beautiful, couldn’t be prouder of my incredible wife bringing such a little beauty into this world. my heart is fuller than it ever has been before, someone might need to come and pinch me shortly 💕🐣

279,464 comments

redbullracing: congratulations from everyone on the team, we’re so happy for you and yn ❤️💙

username13: omg he’s the cutest - congratulations you two!! 💕

pierregasly: those photos are beautiful, hope you’re enjoying life as a trio already 💞

username14: the little hands. the little smile. the slightly scrunched nose 😭😭😭

landonorris: immediately on my way round for all the baby cuddles in the world!!

username15: I can’t believe he’s here and looks so adorable too!!

georgerussell63: this is the best news ever, can’t wait to see you both when you’re ready for us!!

carmenmmundt: @/ynusername @/georgerussell63 don’t make us wait too long tho I’m itching to meet little one 🐣

schecoperez: can’t wait to meet baby verstappen soon ☺️

username16: the way they’re looking at him in the middle photo, they’re so in love with him!!

danielricciardo: can’t believe the fresh faced kid I bet all those years ago is now a dad 😭

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo I feel so old now 💔

lewishamilton: he’s gorgeous, well done mama and congrats both of you!!

username17: pls don’t talk to me for the rest of the day imma just be staring at these photos 🫠

lilymhe: I’ve never screamed so loud in my life when I saw this post 😂

alex_albon: @/lilymhe can confirm the cats are now hiding underneath the bed because of this

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 583,103 others

ynusername: some new company on our adventures together. that little smile melts me 🫠❤️

42,958 comments

landonorris: I refuse to accept a child as adorable as yours actually came from the max verstappen ❌

username18: look at that proud dad smile omg 💓

carlossainz55: you need to hurry up and bring him to meet us all 😧

iamrebeccad: not often I agree with carlos 😂 but I do about this!!

username19: they knew exactly what they were doing posting that last photo!!

alexandrasaintmleux: you guys are making me seriously want a baby of my own…don’t let charles know that though 😂

charles_leclerc:@/alexandrasaintmleux I can read a public comments section you know

username20: baby fever has suddenly struck me down hard ⚡️

alex_albon: please stop posting cute baby photos before lily screams the apartment down 🙏🏻

ynusername: @/alex_albon can’t help the fact my son is so adorable 🤷🏻‍♀️

username21: how are two people allowed to make such an adorable little human???

oscarpiastri: your son is already smiling better than me and he’s only a few weeks old 😂

username22: I knew they were gonna be a cute mum and dad but I wasn’t prepared for this!!

username23: that lost photo deserves so much more than just a post on insta 😂

maxverstappen1: with a smile like that little man is gonna be a heartbreaker for sure!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 he’s far too young to ever think that far ahead yet 😂

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liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 3,483,081 others

maxverstappen1: the stages of my life currently, living high on cloud nine. racing for you now my little buddy ⛅️

289,472 comments

username24: my ovaries are gonna burst if we get many more posts like this…

ynusername: asking for a friend…is it too early to already be wanting another one?!

username25: not max calling his son his little buddy, they’re already the best of pals 💞

lilymhe: I cannot stress how much I love the three of you 💕

username26: can’t wait for the day when max takes his son racing, future wdc pending 🥹

landonorris: well this post is just a little bit cute 😭

username27: now that really is what you call living the dream 😂

danielricciardo: now Ik what the fans are like, I feel like I’m stalking you three these days 😂😂

username28: you know the baby is adorable when my eyes are drawn to him and not the delicious stack of pancakes there 🥞

charles_leclerc: there’s not a chance for the rest of us if you’re riding for little man 😂

username29: I’m already excited to see yn and the baby in the paddock cheering for max!!

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liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 582,018 comments

ynusername: I think these photos are proof that the two of us are absolutely obsessed and refuse to leave our son alone for more than five minutes 😂💓

52,939 comments

username30: we don’t blame you yn, how could you leave his cute face alone?!

heidiberger_: I’m just as obsessed with the three of you, ily guys ✨

ynusername: @/heidiberger_ can’t wait to see you when you’re home 🥹

username31: now that is the ultimate proud dad smile 😂

landonorris: I remember when you didn’t leave me alone, now you barely reply to any of my texts 💔

username32: these three really are joined at the hip and it’s the sweetest ☺️

maxverstappen1: I’m never gonna stop being head over heels in love with you both 💞

username33: I’m obsessed with you guys just as much btw!!

georgerussell63: I don’t think anyone can fault just how much you love your little man

redbullracing: almost the right shade of blue guys 😂

ynusername: @/redbullracing we’ll do better from now on admin!

username34: the little feet in the middle picture, eurgh I’m becoming soft for babies now landonorris:

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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 592,172 others

ynusername: back to my favourite place with my new favourite little human for company. we’re coming to get you papa ❤️💙

59,371 comments

username35: ahhhh it’s finally happening can’t wait to see all the red bull baby photos 🥳

redbullracing: we can’t wait to welcome you back yn and meet baby verstappen too ❤️

username36: can we all take a moment to appreciate the fact he’s sleeping on the plane!

maxverstappen1: can’t wait to be reunited with my team, see you soon!!

landonorris: if I don’t see you guys this weekend I am gonna throw one almighty tantrum btw 😂😂

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris if we don’t see yn can we make a pact to drive his car off the track on sunday??

username37: red bull better have that baby grow ready for him to change into 🥺

carmenmmundt: shut up I’m at the race this weekend, sorry george but I’m leaving you for the weekend now 🥳

username38: max you better win this week so we can get baby celebrations and a podium

schecoperez: max has made sure the garage is perfect for you both…multiple times 😂

ynusername: @/schecoperez I didn’t expect anything less hahah

username39: pls fans and paps make sure you give them the privacy they deserve 🙏🏻

danielricciardo: just remember who looked after you when you first came to f1 and who would like a baby cuddle too 😇

ynusername: @/danielricciardo there’s no way I’m forgetting about you this weekend 🫶🏻

username40: thank you for always blessing us with such adorable baby photos yn 😍

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Wife: How I met your Mother

notes: i've had a few requests for how Joel and wifey met and must say I have been working on this for quite some time.

Warnings: protected sex (ikr what a shocker from me!!!), oral f!receiving, anxious reader during sex, multiple orgasms, reader has hair, brief descriptions of body change post pregnancy

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel forgot to make the reservation to Tommy’s number one favorite steakhouse for his birthday. The damn idiot. He had been so busy this year, what with launching their own company, and Joel taking the lead, he’d been swamped with workworkwork. And of course, the place he was meaning to dine at was no longer taking reservations or walkups.

Which left Joel to scrounge for a high-top bar-area table in Tommy’s third favorite steakhouse, some ritzy fancy place that wasn’t in either Miller’s ball park. What should have been an evening indulging in one 70 year old man throwing down on the grill in a family run steakhouse that had massive 27 oz steaks for $32, they were instead having to settle for a corporate run, posh place that had abstract art on the walls on sale for thousands of dollars, a menu with foreign sounding wines, and tiny steaks on big plates, topped with random greens for decoration, and pulling a whopping, ridiculous price tag for some pinky sized meat.

That being said, even after Joel had forwarded the correct address, it’s been 15 minutes, and no Tommy. He anxiously glances at the wall clock. Joel wasn’t looking forward to sitting here, what with his scrounged hair and unkept beard. The best wardrobe he could put together included a lesser-stained pair of boots and a flannel shirt tucked in his jeans, with a belt he had forgotten about, collecting dust in the closet until tonight. 

He didn’t belong. He just wanted to eat, clink a beer or two with Tommy, and call it a night.

 He swears, if Tommy doesn’t show up in the next 5, 4, 3, 2,—

“Oh my god this place is a maze.” you say, shaking your head and setting down at Tommy’s vacant chair. 

Right in front of Joel.

He blinks a few times. Who the hell is this chick? 

This chick, evidently oblivious, hadn’t even glanced up to his presence, proceeding to dig through your purse you just tossed to the ground as you go on…

 “And then…wait where did I leave off— Oh fuck, so then Kelly asked him if he was going to get her flowers, and he said ‘oh only if you want’ and then I was like ‘Kel, you shouldn’t have to ask on your birthday to get flowers from your fiancee.’”

And you still haven’t looked up, busy now applying some honey vanilla scented, nice smelling lip balm. Even as Joel opens his mouth to say something, you close your eyes and shake your head again with a chuckle, proceeding: “…like that’s shit you argue with your teenage boyfriend over, not the guy you’re gonna be having kids with! And then she said this was the third time she brought it up, plus—“

Joel puts his hands down softly on the table, frowning. Holy shit, does this woman ever stop yapping?

“—oh didn’t she have to drop hints like an atom bomb that she wanted to get married? After what, 4 years? I swear, this is why I’m staying single even if the hottest, sexiest, sweatiest fucker were right in front of—“

You finally look up, to see…some guy?

Instead of fear, or embarrassment, or… any reasonable expression, your face instead sours to that of a confused defensiveness.

“Who the hell are you?” You ask offensively.

Joel is taken aback. “Wh—I’m … Joel?”

“Okay ‘Joel’ but I meant what are you doing sitting here?”

Joel tilts his head, too astounded. “This is my table,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Uh— no it’s not,” you almost cackle, like what an idiot he is. “And I need you to get out of that chair, because my friend Maria will be back any—“

You glance around, only to see your very friend Maria, waving wildly at you from across the room, sitting at a table that very much was the one you were at prior to leaving for the rest room. 

“Oh!—that’s odd…”

Ok finally, she’s gonna —

“Why the hell is Maria sitting at the wrong table??”

He lets out an incredulous sight. “Lady, I think you’re at the wrong table.”

You turn back to him, tilting your head like a curious dog. He feels like he’s hanging on the edge of his chair, just trying to piece together what could possibly be going through your too-busy mind.

You take a look over to her again, then to the current table. Then again to her.

Which leaves you… sitting here…. With....

“Oh fuck… I’m so sorry!” You whisper, and now you’re full of embarrassment, face flush warm. 

You tumble out of the chair and rush over to Maria, who’s giggling and looking back at Joel while you slam your face into your hands onto the correct table.

Joel just watches you for a moment, still stunned. A little flustered. Strangely… entertained?  

You kept peeking your eye through your fingers, before trying to burry yourself into the menu. All while your friend Maria howled at your utter mis-founded confidence.

Joel grins slightly to himself, not really sure why he’s also finding it a bit funny. You were kinda—

“Why’d you pick this place again?”

Joel jumps a little, his glass of water nearly tumbling over as Tommy slinks down into the seat in front of him.

“What?”

“Was Jackie’s full again? You forgot to make a reservation there, didn’t you?” He asks nonchalantly, tucking his napkin into his lap with a casual slouched posture. None the wiser that Joel’s mind is completely sidetracked by his strange encounter with this peculiar woman just moments earlier. 

Joel tries to keep his focus on Tommy for the night, but he keeps stealing glances your way. Unfortunately, a whole host of bodies had been sat at the tables between you, leaving it impossible to see whether you were still over there or not. 

By the end of the night, when Joel stood up, he lets out a disappointed grunt: Your table had already been cleared, and you were gone.

Joel grasped his jacket, letting Tommy out to his truck first. “Sorry it wasn’t Jackie’s,” he groans, closing the door for his little brother, all buckled in and hanging his arm out the window.

“S’alright. Was a good night to pretend to be rich bitches.” He nods with his cap and a honk honk. “Drive safe, brother.”

“Happy birthday, fucker,” Joel retorts just as Tommy pulls out and disappears into the night.

The place is about to close up, only few stragglers at the bar left. He jingles his keys in his hands, pausing at his the junction between the restaurant entrance and his truck.

He looks back at the window table that you were seated in.

“S’cuse me,” he interrupts the host, who’s wiping down menus.

“Is it possible to make another reservation?”

“Sure. How far in advance?”

“1 year from now, exactly this date and time?”

She peers up to him with a raised brow.

-

1 year later

“What the fuck do you mean you forgot to Make a reservation to Jackie’s… again?” Tommy asks, walking in fancy rich bitch restaurant with Joel.

“I kinda liked our meal here last time…” he starts, trying to reason that he didn’t … intentionally forgoe his own little brother’s birthday for his own means. Tommy hasn’t even noticed that Joel’s attention is entirely on scanning the restaurant  

“That’s great… but save this shit for your birthday.”

As the two wait for the hostess to seat them, Tommy leans closer to Joel’s shoulder, giving a slight inhale.

“Did you … shower before you came here?”

“Yeah?”

Tommy raises his brow. Joel’s the type to usually grunt the entire day in one go before showering to bed. “And your hairs combed.”

“So? That a crime?” Joel brushes him off, looking around the restaurant again as casual as he can fake it.

Tommy sways on his heels, glancing down from his side eyes. “Shirt’s ironed in too.”

“Tommy, we gotta look the part here…”

“No we don’t. We eat. We pay. We leave. Who you tryin’ to impress other than my stomach?”

Joel shakes his head with a hearty laugh.

Was Joel staking his brother’s birthday on the hope that you would be here again? Cmon, that’s ridicul—

Maybe. 

But as the two of them are escorted to their table, Joel did another lap of eye scan around the room before sitting down, all the doubts flooded.

You weren’t here.

What if you were just here randomly that one day? What if you were just visiting from out of town? What if you came once and never came again? He bet this entire night on an assumption that you were celebrating something on this specific date, but there was absolutely no indication that you were doing anything but having a night out with a friend.

Oh shit, what if that was your girlfriend??? Oh shitshitshit.

Wait, no, you said that M chick (he doesn’t even remember her name) was your friend.

Oh--what if you had a boyfriend by now?

What if you did walk in that door right now, but you were  holding hands with some rich pompous skinny ass college educated schmuck, all smiling and clinging to him like he’s the world, and Joel’s here desperately searching for you when you don’t even know him—

—“Who the fuck are you looking at?” Tommy asks, waving his hand in front of Joel after trying to look around the room in vain for whatever’s got his big brother’s attention.

— and then there’s the fact that Joel hasn’t been on a date in six… seven? Years? His last serious relationship ended because he wanted to settle down and she wanted to keep exploring options. I mean, he got it. They were really young at the time. He didn’t really know anything else. Instead, he spent all this time buried in trainings and apprenticeships and certification courses to be able to get to where he is now…and that left no room for even looking at women.

So why the fuck is he here trying to look for you ??

“Joel!” Tommy shouts, kicking him under the table.

“Shit, sorry.” He shakes his head and takes a long swig of beer.

“Sorry. Just—feeling off today.”

“I bet.” Tommy leans forward, putting his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“You sure you’re alright?”

He nods. Fuck. He’s here for Tommy’s birthday. A birthday he wasted on this shitty place, banking on a girl he doesn’t even know the name of, and pretending to be a brother. God. He’s terrible. Joel downs the rest of his alcohol in one go, clearing his mind of you once and for all. 

“I’m good Tommy. Let’s celebrate tonight.”

Tommy holds up his beer bottle. “To one year of Millers Co.”

“Fuckin cheers to that.” They clinks bottles with a grin.

Joel looks to his right, by chance, and his entire body freezes, blood draining and then revitalizing itself over his veins in a nanosecond.

You’re putting your hair up in a pony tail, smiling and chatting enthusiastically at the same table you were at exactly a year ago. It’s like not a day has passed. You have that same confident aura, like the world is circling you, without really trying. Maybe its just Joel, because aside from your friend you’re seated with, he’s the only one who’s entire world is focused on you.

He should stop staring. Fuck this is weird. Is it weird? But he can’t. He’s worried he’s dreaming, and if he takes his eyes off you again, you’ll disappear for another year. Wait, he’s imagining this right? He didn’t wish you into existence again? There’s no way you’re seated at the exact same table again. But your outfit is different. So maybe this is real?

Joel could feel Tommy trying to talk to him again, but his brain was utter mush. Instead of scanning the room, his focus was directed in a single spot this time, and Tommy could finally make contact with what exact has got his big brother so distracted.

He didn’t really get it, but Joel wasn’t giving any answers in this state.

Joel shakes himself from his trance, worried Tommy is gonna finally pinpoint and—where’s Tommy?

His seat is completely empty, and Joel panics momentarily that Tommy just straight up left him after being ignored for ten minutes.

Worse than that, Joel finally spots Tommy—heading over to talk to you and your friend.

“Heeeeyyy, ladies, I’m Tommy.” He smiles warmly.

“Um, Hi,” you nod with a polite smile. 

“’m sorry to bother your dinner, but my brother, god bless him, has been starin’ at ya from across the room—“ he points to Joel’s direction momentarily—“ and you either cut him off in traffic this mornin’, or he thinks you’re cute and is too shy to come over here to tell ya.”

SHITSHITSHIT SHUTthefuckupTOMMYOHMYFUCKINGGOD.

Joel’s feet kick straight down on their own accord, knocking the table hard as he stands and causing people around him to stare.

He speed walks over there, not sure what his next move is: kiss you or strangle Tommy or some weird dance combination of both. 

He doesn’t have time to think it over because now he’s here, standing there, like a baboon, as you, Tommy, and your friend blink directly at him, awaiting him to say something. 

 He needs to say something.

Something…

Anything…

Why isn’t he speaking

Your smile falters a little, eyes narrowed in. He feels himself shrink inside.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, pointing at him. “You’re that guy—“

Oh fuck she does remember me—!

“—that sat at my table last year!”

She doesn’t remember jack shit.

“I—lady, you sat at my table,” he argues defensively. Holy shit wait why is he getting defensive? Maybe because, holy fuck, how could you get that mixed up… Again???

You purse your lips and let out a little laugh. “Um. No. You came and sat at my table. I’m pretty sure I would remember something like that.”

You’re just as cocksure as yourself as you were last time.

He could get used to that.

“What was it—“ you tap your lower lip with your fingers, eyes drifting in though. “Oh! Joel!”

Oh … the way you say his name… he could definitely get used to that.

There’s a brief pause before you begin:

“So… you’re here again?”

“I take my brother here every year… for his birthday,” Joel blurts out.

“More like accidentally take me here—“ Tommy falls short, looking back at you… now realizing this time maybe wasn’t an accident on Joel’s part. 

He’ll remember to kick Joel in the nuts later. But right now, his brother’s cartoonishly obvious heart shaped eyes are still locked on you, so he rolls with it.

“Yeah we’re celebrating… our own thing too,” Maria muses, nodding towards you. You roll your eyes playfully, knowing she’s too bashful to admit it.

“She graduated law a couple years ago,” you gloat, beaming at your impressive friend, who’s shrinking under the weight of her embarrassment. “So we’ve made it our little tradition.”

Joel opens his mouth and wishes he used his brain: “We can make it all our tradition from now on.”

The four of you go awkwardly silent, and it almost feels like the whole restaurant went quiet too and is staring at Joel.

Oh God, he should just tuck his tail and walk right out the door right now and leave town and—

You’re the first to let out a giggle, covering your mouth and scrunching your eyes and nose as you try to hide your cute laugh.

Oh fuck. He can definitely get used to that.

Tommy’s gonna give himself a massive pat on the back for this next move.

“Maria, was it?” He asks your friend. “Would you like to join me to get a drink?” He motions towards the bar.

Maria glances at you, now seeing you and Joel are staring at one another, uninterrupted, completely enamored. Shits not on pause. You two are just fuckin’…frozen at each other like little smiling elf statues.

“Yes I would. Tommy, right?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She links arms with him and the two of them begin: “so you come to this dump to celebrate?” “It’s my favorite?” “Oh mine too!” Leaving you and Joel alone.

“Uhh…” 

“Do you want—sit?” You ask awkwardly.

Joel takes Maria’s seat. 

“Looks like you’re coming to sit at my table instead,” you snicker.

“So you admit it then: you sat at mine last year.”

You smile, readjusting your napkin on your lap. “I have a hard time admitting when I’m wrong. It’s a stubborn thing.”

“Mmm. Picked up on that.”

You both laugh. You bite your lip before smoothing the tablecloth. 

“Joel,” you whisper, and god it feels really good all over his spine when you say his name.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. I just… like saying your name. It fits you really well. Joel.”

He grins broadly, licking his lower lip and staring at you again with those big, gorgeous brown orbs. Even his voice feels…right. You have no idea how or why. He just feels so…right. 

You tilt your head to the side, studying him. “You look … a little different.”

Joel clears his throat, unsure if that is a good thing or bad thing.

“Wait let me just—“ 

But you don’t wait, instead you’re already reaching your delicate fingers over the table and sifting them through his hair, ruffling his curls out of their perfectly combed place, watching as they tumble messily over one another until they’re bouncing all brown and natural under the low light.

“That’s better. Yeah, I remember that for sure.” You nod to yourself with a little grin that has him blushing harder than Santa on Christmas.

It’s radiant, it’s contagious, it’s sincere.

You offer him your name, and he repeats it with that low timbre that gives you goosebumps.

Oh, you could get used to him for sure.

-

Four Dates Later...

The puss puss is screaming his name already.

You had always told yourself you would never surrender the flower to man in no less than 6 dates first. But fuck… Joel’s… really something.

You’re seated at his bar stool in his house, swaying your feet with your arms crossed, watching him work like a wizard. He’s making something really really good, and as far as you can tell, something really close to home. you had both shared half a bottle of wine on his couch while he talked about his brother, how he plays guitar sometimes, his company. He listened intently as you shared your movie taste, how oh so different you are from your mom he’d yet to meet, and the best food spots in town.

You also promised you wouldn’t spend an evening like this at a guy’s house so quickly either but… Joel’s really something. 

He makes you feel warm and fuzzy, in that gooey icky way you used to make fun of your friends for. He makes you feel safe and protected, and you almost want to start shit with him just to get him to tackle you down and put a baby in you right here—oh my god what is happening to you??

“Remember that time you sat at my table—“

He pauses to face you, eyes peering from his brows with a growl. “Don’t start with me, girl.”

Mmmmm girl. The way he says it is like hot sugar and sprinkles. Yes. Yes you wanted to get used to this ASAP.

Three homemade empanadas later, and you were sold.

-

As you tumble onto his bed, Joel and your lips can’t break up enough for you to get through a sentence before he’s sucking you back in. The alcohol swims in your system just as hot as the lust that had been dampening your legs all night—or the last few weeks for that matter.

“Just—just so you know… I know first time sex isn’t always great—scratch that. Its never great—“

He stops, his shirt halfway up his head. “You’ve never had sex before?” He asks softly, almost fearfully, like he’s done a horrible thing and not taken you to a hotel and bought you a car and—

“No! I meant first time with a new partner,” you clarify, helping him hoist the rest of that shirt over because you couldn’t be tortured to wait any longer for this view.

My oh my… what a view.

His chest is smooth, clearly undisturbed by any hair, and his belly is soft. But with each movement, you can see the flex of muscle ripping underneath. He has a worker’s body, true to his craft, not some jacked up gymbro bod that gloats his benchpress PR but couldn’t carry a bag of sand on one shoulder. His belly ends in a gorgeously light trail of hair, leading down like the Hairy Brick Road to disappear underneath his belt line, right to your long awaited prize…

He’s staring down at you as you lick your lips greedily, seemingly unaware that you had paused your conversation.

“You hungry for something?” He asks sincerely under a chuckle. “Can make ya more empanadas right now if ya too distracted—“

“Shut up and take these off.” you start undoing his button and zipper of his jeans.

He grins, leaning over to capture your lips as you do work to shimmy his pants off. You feel him push you down gently on your back, expecting him to crawl up and grasp you as he positions his dick between your legs.

 Instead, he hooks the bend of your back knee over his shoulders, crawling down—

You freeze, holding his arm so he doesn’t slip any further. “Woah—don’t think I expect you to go down on me.”

“But I—“

“Because I know … all the guys before don’t do that the first time with a new partner, or even second or third, and like… Listen I…” you start rambling, eyes searching everywhere but his own. “I already like you…so I don’t want you…pretending for me… going out of your way for…if its not a given—especially on the first—“ 

He pulls up, grasps your face in his clutch and kisses you, drawing out all of your thoughts. 

“You talk a lot when ya nervous,” he hums against your nose before pressing another kiss there. You both stare at one another. he could see your eyes were vulnerable, like it’s the first time your guard is being torn down by someone without your permission. Like you’re genuinely caught naked in your underwear.

He slithers closer to you, making you lie further back on the bed again until your bodies glide together. His breath ghosts over your lips, and you can feel your heart already palpitating from the sheer sense of control he’s grasped from you naturally. “S’okay. I like listening to you. Keep going.”

He descends lower, lips trailing kisses, hooded eyes never leaving yours.

What happened to that shy, awkward lump of a cutie who was too afraid to approach your table to say hi? He’s certainly not the strong, capable, confident wolf in front of you about to devour you whole…

“R-really,” you mumble, wanting to bring your mind back to why you’re nervous—shit are you nervous here? “You don’t… have to do it…to impress me. I’m already impressed—“

 He huffs into your mound. “I ain’t doin it to impress ya, I’m doinnit because I wanna eat your pussy. Been dyin’ to for weeks now. Do men not normally go down on you on the first chance they get?” He asks, genuinely curious. As if it’s a shock to him that you don’t get your pussy ate every single waking minute of the day.

You stare at him slack jawed. He says it as if… as if… he does this every time….because he actually does it every time….

You feel a gush of slick ooze out of your cunt. “Get your fucking head down there and start eating,” you command.

He smirks, “There she is—that’s the one I like—“ before biting your thighs gently and nuzzling his nose between your folds. 

Okay, shit, it’s happening. At the very least, even if he’s had practice, it may not even be good. He can’t tick all boxes, right? Yeah, this one thing, he’s probably terrible at. Shit, bet he’s just bluffing just to—

“Do me this once, baby.” His teeth softly sink into the fat of your inner thigh.

You’re already jittery and hazy, anxious and aroused, heavy lidded as your ears perk enough to try to listen.

“Let yourself have this one,” he whispers, eyes trained on you as he kisses the bite mark he left.

“Oh? You…seem cocksure of yourself…” you tease. Even if he’s good, he’d make a fine boyfriend for sure—

Your bravado quickly disappears as he flattens his hot tongue through your slit, sliding the tip against your entrance before pursing his lips, sucking in your sensitive clit with a kiss—

Holy fucking shit he wasn’t bluffing.

He pulls away with a suckle, and you just barely can focus your eyesight on him: the audacity of his baby brown eyes staring up at you with raised, curious, innocent gleam as his lips and nose shine with your arousal.

“S’that okay with you?”

You open your mouth, unable to form words. in fact, it’s the first time in your life that you have effectively been shut up, let alone by a man. He turned your brain into mush, your body floating between space and heaven, but your soul plated right here, underneath his gaze, his hands, his lips, his tongue—

He waits for your answer, warm steady air blowing from his nose to your quivering cunt.

You only gulp, mouth closing in submission.

A wide smirk creeps over his face. Now that’s what she’s like when she’s quiet. He seems to like that he’s shut you up; especially the way your brows knit close together as he drags his tongue through your petals again, over and over like a giddy boy enjoying his melting ice cream. 

When he disappears again between your legs, you grasp your mouth with your hand, eyeballs rolling back as you already feel your core shake.

I’m gonna marry him I’m gonna marry him I’m gonna marry him, you chant like a mantra in your head.

And for 40 more minutes, Joel Miller ate you out like a fucking Goddess.

You were spasming randomly, letting out desperate chokes and groans. After the first orgasm, you gave up on the silent treatment. Letting him hear your praises as you came again, and then again, and three more times.

You had never had so many orgasms in a 40 minute span like that in your life.

He’d inhale deeply through his nostrils, burying himself in your mound before increasing the pace of his tongue. Flicking your clit then diving inside, thrusting and twisting. Suckling out your juices and then coaxing you with his fingers deep inside when you started to quiver. He’d lock eyes on you every so often, making sure you were comfortable for the ride. 

He knew he would be addicted when he first watched you cum. It only got more insatiable with each one after that.

“Holy f-fuck—“you whine as he sucks your folds in one final time before releasing with a loud smack. “I—I could get used to that.”

He grins, falling down next to you. He takes deep breaths with you, as if having swam across the ocean alongside your marathon run. 

The two of you just sat there. Calming your breaths. Your eyes to the ceiling. 

His on you.

He strokes your arm with his fingertips. Up and down, soothingly and gentle. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking, and it kinda scares him. Maybe you were done. Maybe you had that post orgasmic bliss, and were ready to kick him out. Maybe—

“So … how do you want me?” You ask, biting your lips. Your hand is already on his chest, itching for more.

His eye dart to your lips one last time, his tongue swiping out. He leans forward and begins kissing you again. The two of you roll over, with him above you. You can feel the press of his hard length against your inner thigh, making you squeak. 

He pulls out, his nose nudging yours. “Where I can see you,” he pants.

Joel shreds his last remaining article of clothing.

Yeah, this is it, you think. He makes up for bad sex by eating you out five times. There’s no way. Not that dick size matters of course. You weren’t gonna mention anything by it. That’s just…. Rude. No, it really matters how you use it. So even if he’s moderately big, which you’re sure he isn’t—

His throbbing, girthy member slaps wetly against his belly button.

“Fucking Christ, Joel Miller,” you gasp, eyes a little too wide. It pulses deliciously, veiny and mushroomed. “What the fuck do you feed that thing?”

Oh shit, what was that about not saying anything?

“I mean, its’ like—you look—it’s--“ you shut your trap and just give him two thumbs up.

He pauses, blinking at you before chuckling.

Oh my god, please kill me.

“Okay. That’s — I’ll take that.” He tears open the condom and spread it over his head. 

There’s a tiny bit of you that feels a bit of disappointment as he rolls it down his length; the part of you that wants to take a massive leap with this man right now and do it raw. 

Hell no. fuck, that’s definitely not a 4th date move. Though, coming to his house and having sex right after dinner was also not a date 4 move either… 

He crawls back over you, his forearms planted by your head. Joel reaches down to grasp his cock. At the same time, you instinctively lift your legs, your thighs resting over his hips.

“We fit so beautifully together, huh?” He whispers, kissing your cheek.

You nod. 

“You tell me if anything feels off, okay? Even if ya—“

You had snatched the base of his length, causing him to gasp and swallow his words. Effortlessly, you drag his head through your folds, slicking it up with your arousal before notching it at your entrance.

Joel grasps your face with both hands and seals his lips over you as the two of you work his cock inside your hole. 

Even with his tongue tracing over yours, he doesn’t let you go. You moan deliciously into his mouth as he forces himself inside, inch by inch, slowly. Your pussy had been stretched and worn perfectly from his eating moments ago, making the stretch to accomodate his girth only pleasurable. 

There’s no words. No snarky remark. Just the shared breath between you two. The blurred background except the vision of one another so close. The sounds of your synced, pounding hearts bursting through your chests. 

He was so quiet. Tense. Still.

He looked so deep in concentration, like something was hurting him, like he was straining himself. He was so chatty a minute ago...had you done something wrong?

You open your mouth to speak, but Joel beats you to it.

“I’m —I’m gonna cum already—fuck—gimme a minute,” he finally rasps, closing his eyes tightly. His ears are flushed red as he remains completely still inside, the vein in his neck ready to burst from concentration. The poor man was so embarrassed that he might cum immediately, totally ruining any chance to impress you—

“I’m already cumming,” you whine, shifting your hips to get him to gently tap that spot inside that has you clenching around him. “With me?”

The motion sets him over the edge.

Both your jaws drop open in o’s as you orgasm together, pulsing, a mere 3 seconds into motionless sex. 

His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. “Shit—shit—I—I’ve—I swear—“

“That—was so hot,” you whisper with a big smile on your face. Joel looks up at you: your eyes dark, biting your lips with a wicked grin as you look over his face, your hand playing with his ear. “More?” You ask softly with big curious eyes.

He fell a little more in love with you, if it were even possible. 

You had sex again, this time a little more paced out. Joel was determined to focus on you this time, though you doubted he had considered his even once at this point. All he knew was that he wanted to feel you squeeze around his cock forever.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums. “So beautiful when you cum.”

You moan desperately, coming back down from your umpteenth climax of the night. he sucked his thumb clean after having rubbed your swollen numb to get you there. You had one ankle hooked around his lower back, pulling him back in with each thrust.

“You—you’re right,” you swallow. “We do fit so well together.” 

The both of you laugh, eyes crinkled. 

You sigh, winding your arms around his neck. “I can’t wait to do this without a condom.”

He grips your thighs tightly, stuttering for a moment. “Fuck—don’t say that—don’t get me thinking’ bout how good you’re gonna feel raw—shit no can’t—can’t think—no fuck now Im thinkin it—its too good—“

“Yeah? You think about filling me up already? On our first time?”

“I’m warnin’ you, lady. Don’t get me started.”

You let out a loud moan as he started pounding you harder, your skin slapping one another. 

“Fuck—thank you Tommy—“ you start.

“Don’t moan my brother’s name when I’m inside you.”

You tighten your lips and nod.

“Want ya spread out on my pillow like this every night.” He sifts his fingers through your hair, watching the way it parts for him. “Want you sayin’ my name like a prayer. Need your cum on my tongue and my fingers and cock to keep me warm. I don’t think I can go back to—fuck—I need more of you--“

He keeps thrusting into your sopping heat with such precision. Neither too fast nor slow. Enough that the two of you could enjoy, savor, explore. 

“I want it,” you whisper softly, only for him to hear. You wrap yourself around him closer as he fucks you slow, deep, calculated, passionately.

Maybe both of you were thinking it then: You knew you would have the rest of your lives for it all.

By the time you had finished, and third condom wrapped and tossed in the bin, you were exhausted. You couldn’t even raise your head for the first few minutes. Joel too was whipped. He laid in bed with your head spread atop his chest, leg hooked over his stomach. Your sweaty body sticking to one another with the  fan blasting down on your back. You could feel him tracing patterns on your naked back. Like he was telling your body to accept his touch because it wouldn’t be leaving you any time soon.

You were so close to drifting to sleep. Letting out little hums here and there as he rubbed your head with occasional kisses. 

“Mbesr empapamda,” you mumbled into the pillow.

“What?”

You sat up slightly, hair messy already from his ministrations. Your eyes were half asleep already as you mumbled with a smirk: “Would you make me more empanadas some day again, Joel?’

He chuckled. “I’d make em everyday if you asked.”

You nuzzled your nose into his neck before finally closing your eyes.

-

You both slept the best night of your lives. 

Joel initially woke up around 6am. When his vision settled, the low light of the morning sun just barely filtering in, his eyes settled on your sleeping form. Your hand rested on the pillow in front of you.

He knew it then. The sight of you right here, warming his bed, his soul, his kitchen, his heart, his body… Joel Miller knew he was going to marry you. 

Obviously not something he’ll be mentioning for a while, but something that morning clicked. He was already tracing the empty space on your ring finger. How nice a ring would look there. How nice it would be to wake up like this every morning. To see you. The first thing to greet him each day just like this.

In that moment, Joel felt like he had to give you something of his. It was an urge he’d never experienced before, and he couldn’t quite place exactly why or what it is. But it forced him out of the bed silently and away to his work bench without a second thought.

-

“Hey, you,” he whispers.

“Nmmmm,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes again. You wipe your face with both palms. your voice sounds like gravel stuck in your throat as you mutter a very unsexy, “Heyyy.”

“I uh—“ he clears his throat. “This is for you.”

You eyes flutter open as he presents a tiny wooden carving of a butterfly. The details were rough but smoothed and you could immediately tell it was hand crafted. Upon closer inspection, you could see it had your initials carved into the body.

You sat up, blinking rapidly. “Did...did you just… make that?”

“Yeah.” the tips of his cheeks instantly reddened. “Woke up a couple hours ago and thought…well you looked…it seemed…It’s not super good I’m still—anyway, wanted to gift ya something…”

“Just now?”

“An hour ago. I came back to bed. But saw your hair falling a bit when you were resting so—“ He had just started getting the knack of crafting wood so it really looked amateurish. He felt stupid now, after spending two hours on it hunched at his desk while you slept upstairs in his bed. 

He takes it gently into his hand and flips it, revealing a metal hairclip that had been glued on. 

“May I?”

You nod, eyes sparkling with joy. Maybe you didn’t know any better, but it definitely looked like you thought it was the most beautifully carved piece of art you’d ever seen.

Joel gently fastens it into your hair before cupping along your cheek.

“Does it look good?” You ask.

“Amazin’.”

You smile again. Fuck, he wanted to see that smile every day from now on. He was officially smitten. “I can make ya all kinds of things. Well, eventually. I’m still workin’ on it, just started getting into carving so they’re not perfect yet but--“

“Can you show me?”

It was his turn to blink at you.

“Now?”

“Yeah! Unless you had something else you needed to do this morning…I can totally get out of your hair if—“

“Nope, you stay right here, I’m gonna—“

He stumbles out of bed and quickly closes the door behind him.

His workbench was a fucking mess and definitely not date-show ready. You could hear him banging things, scraping counters of knickknacks and bolts into drawers and doing his best to clean.

Biting your lip, you whip out your phone and called Maria on face time.

She answered, eye mask pulled up her face. “What? Oh bitch, I know you ain’t already sleep at J—“

“LOOK AT WHAT MY JOEL MADE ME!!” You squeal, showing off the hair pendant. You kicked your feet in the air excitedly, all the calm bravado you had kept at bay finally spewing over to show off what a man he was.

Joel sat on the other side of the door, listening. He had almost collapsed against from internally swooning so hard at your ‘my Joel’ comment.

He was going to make you so much shit if it meant you could call him “mine” again.

And he did. After a hot cup of tea and some avocado toast, you sat at his stool next to his work bench as he quietly did his work. You were wearing one of his t shirts, hair still a little messy, but ever so cute. Sometimes he’d tell you a little bit about the wood, the technique he’s testing, how many times he’s cut a finger. He’d worry he was boring you, but when he’d look up, all he saw were your shining, eager, attentive eyes on him, and it made his heart flutter faster than the mind blowing sex from last night.

He didn’t know he was doing it but the embarrassment on his face when he realized he had carved an o—a fucking wooden ring—and was holding it out to you.

You quickly pulled your necklace and strung it on the metal chain, clasping it back around your neck. “I love it,” you beam, holding it in your palm as you inspected it on your chest.

You were both thinking it:

I could get used to this.

-

Ten Years Later…

Something stinks.

So heinous, it forces him awake rather abruptly. His eyes adjust, the dull pain in his back reminding him he’s still alive. The blankets are hot and heavy over his body. 

Joel blinks, rubbing his tired, baggy eyes. 

The first thing that comes into focus are two fat pudgy baby feet stuck right up his nose. He looks down to see its connected to his little Ellie, who had somehow managed to fall asleep upside down, her bum up in the air like a downward dog.  Next to her was Sarah, this one rightside up, and face smashed into the pillow. Her crazy hair is scattered everywhere. Below her was the new pup, Rutabaga, snoring on his back and kicking his paws in the air as if chasing through the clouds. His tail occasionally smacked Ellie in the head, though it didn’t stir her at all. Joel followed down the bed: Spoon sat with her head perched agains a set of legs. Her eyelids twitched as she utters a sleepy sigh.

Those lets went all the way back up the bed, on the far end, connected to the one who made all this extra space on the bed go to good use. Joel’s lips stretch into a wide grin when he finally falls on you. 

You were sleeping so peacefully. It was like no time had changed. 

The bed may be different. The room, the covers and sheets. His body was thicker, more worn. Hands more calloused. Eyes heavier, voice deeper. And you. Your hair was different now. So was your own body, in so many ways that continued to amaze him. You had grown some bags too under those pretty eyes, new muscle in new places, and some pudge in others. 

But you were still you. The girl he fell in love with so many years ago.

He still hadn’t gotten used to any of it at all. And he’s happy. 

“Hey you,” you whisper, smiling at him across the bed. You sputter out Sarah’s hair that had been tickling your nose, patting it down to get a good look at your husband.

“Busy night?” He teases, gesturing to the very crowded bed that wasn’t there before he shut his eyes.

You giggle, tossing an arm over all of them and hugging them tight. “I love it.”

The wooden butterfly clip would sometimes be the pendant on your suit. Sometimes the clip to hold your hair, other times to hold Sarah’s or Ellies. Shit, you’d even put it in Joel’s whenever you would give him a curled blow out during his forced spa days with you.

Right now, it sat on your bedside table, right on the lamp’s base. 

The wooden ring? 

He kept taking it back. Tinkering. Adding a design for each year you’d spent together. What started as a crude, plain, smooth band now had the tinniest etches of details, including hearts, the initials of each family member, butterflies and flowers, even a dog paw. It had become the one thing as old as the relationship itself, and the most sacred of items.

Joel had eventually built you a chair, desk, table, shit even the headboard was custom made. He built your house, the girls’ cribs, rocking horses, duck barn, dog hammocks, kitchen stools, you name it. If it was wood, it was Joel’s. And each and every one crafted with love, for you, for always.

Yeah. This was it. This was his life. And that made his heart warm brighter and swell bigger every day for the last ten years.

The two of you stared at one another with faint smiles. The rest of your family was heavily sleeping between you. But even now, He could see it in your eyes. Always so pensive, always so expressive. He’s gotten quite good at understanding you through them. 

This morning, they say, “Thank you for giving me this gift.”

Our Family.

- - - -

Taglist

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[astrolook]

🔥💪 Mars As Darakaraka - Lover, Fighter or Probably Both💪🔥

Note: These are just my personal observations and recurring patterns I've noticed over the years from married clients, relatives and friends. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. Feel free to share in the comments if any of this hits home. This post is based on Vedic astrology.

Mars as Darakaraka - Lover with a plan Your spouse will be bold, headstrong, and fiercely independent. They’re action-oriented and won’t wait around for help, they’ll do it themselves, even if it bruises their ego. Expect quick tempers in fire signs, silent treatment in earth signs, and emotional outbursts or guilt-tripping in water signs. They like things done their way and any deviation from the plan? Cue the irritation. Often tanned or sun-kissed, they love being outdoors. Think horse riding, biking, or just actively doing things around the house. They're not the type to sit still, and laziness genuinely annoys them. Prone to get injuries and vehicle accidents.

Emotional Expression:

Fire signs: Can be physically expressive sometimes breaking things or, in worst cases (esp. with Saturn), showing anger through physical abuse.

Water signs: Emotional manipulation, tears for attention, mood swings.

Earth signs: Calm exterior, silent treatment masters. You may never know when they’re mad... until it’s too late.

When they're down, they can become unpredictable, hot and cold, distant one day, intense the next. In a good mood, though? Total fun. Never boring, always on the go.

Professions: STEM fields, military, law enforcement, sports, tourism, digital creators (YouTubers/podcasters), manufacturing, any field that needs drive, risk-taking, or hustle.

☀️ Mars + Sun: Bold, blunt, no BS. Can come off rude, doesn’t tolerate drama. Highly-educated.

🪐 Mars + Saturn: Age difference possible or mature than you and teach you things, either a mentor or emotionally manipulative depending on signs and house placement. If Saturn is retrograde, they may sulk when upset and find it hard to say no. Often exploited by others. Significant age gap.

🧠 Mars + Mercury: Sharp wit, cutting words. If Mercury is Rx, brutal comebacks, sarcastic bombs, dormant-volcano vibes.

💘 Mars + Venus: Sky-high chemistry and libido. Can indicate extramarital affairs if placed in 6th, 8th, or 12th houses.

🌍 Mars + Jupiter: Foreign spouse likely, especially if in Sagittarius, Aquarius, Pisces, or houses 7, 9, 11, 12. If Jupiter is Rx, you might move in to their hometown and settle down with them.

House Placements:

1st: Obsessed with you (for good or bad) and your goals. Ride-or-die energy. Can be nosey at times like checking your phone or calling you 5 times a day.

2nd: Makes money, spends it faster. Budget? What's that?

3rd: Possible sibling tension (yours or theirs). Either best friends or beef.

4th: Clashes with family or feels unwelcome at home.

5th: Unplanned pregnancy, in some cases. Romantic chaos included.

6th: Both partners working, time management and compromise are keys.

7th: Young at heart. Their moods mirror yours. Big impact on your public life.

8th: Seductive. Uses charm to win fights. Heated arguments = steamy makeup sessions.

9th: Opinionated. Preaches unsolicited wisdom.

10th: Career-driven. May see you as the trophy. Big spender on lifestyle.

11th: Social butterfly. Has 20 friend groups and rotates through them like wardrobe.

12th: Calm on the outside, storm inside. When they blow up? Run. Holds grudges long after "forgiving."

Next Post will be about Jupiter as Darakaraka!

Wanna dive deeper into your chart's layers? ✨🔍 DM me for a full astrology reading, a 5 or 8-year marriage report, or a detailed synastry breakdown 🌙💬 Check out my pinned post for pricing and more info 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐��

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: Pregnancy back-seater, WOTC-brand poppers and humanoid feet.

It's been a while since I last took a good dive into my inbox!

Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to message in, whether it be questions, prompts, or words of support and encouragement! I unfortunately cannot get to everybody, but I do my best while trying not to be spammy with the reply posts 😅

I actually have plans to do just that and an ANCIENT short comic idea that I still really like, so you can look forward to having your wish granted eventually ;)

Though, to be clear, Orin is older than DU drow, so she might not look that much younger. I do want to have a little more fun with hers and Sarevok's design however (also to just draw more young DU drow overall).

There are pros and cons to either, but I think he probably enjoys having a penis more. Not only is he already used to that anatomy, but it likely suits their very versatile dynamic most. If we're talking gender alone, I think Astarion would be truly indifferent 🤷

Oh he would be insufferable. Attentive and loving to a fault. If the partner in question happened to enjoy luxuriating and doing nothing all day, it would work out wonderfully - but if they have any desire for independence and self-sufficiency while pregnant, that might pose a problem. He also might have some trouble empathizing with the shittier parts of carrying - being so enamored with the idea that he can't fathom the downsides being so bad that some tender love and care can't fix them.

DU drow would be similarly whimsied during birth and definitely be very involved.

Somewhat surprisingly, however, I don't think anything could ever convince him to put the baby's life above his partner's. If at any point that was a decision that had to be made, he would, without hesitation.

He must have 2 or 3 long suffering pairs that look pretty similar. Very much the kind of guy to wear clothes until they completely fall apart.

LOL, THANK YOU. Were it not for the occasional glass of wine, the guy would probably be some sort of murderous straight-edge weirdo 😂EXTREMELY self-righteous about it, of course.

Except for poppers. I don't know what poppers look like in Faerun, but whatever that would be - he had a drawer full of them.

So, on one hand, you are completely right. It does suit him very well.

On the other hand, I am DYING to know why you think so, because that's the first I'm ever thinking about it myself and have no answer beyond "he looks like a foot man".

He definitely "fell in" by "accident" 😏

I will NOT accept this sort of slander, he would only do that if he really disliked them.

I don't know about the ears but he can def' make the girls hop.

I'm sure there's a lot of little things you could isolate that we have in common, that tends to be the case for most people (in that we can easily relate to fictional characters in general) - but we are largely opposites. I guess we both like animals, though even in that we part when it comes to our attitude towards house pets and the likes - I'm taking my cat to the orthopedist tomorrow. Somehow that doesn't sound like something he would do.

I guess that depends on what your definition of fem dressing is! I have put him in lingerie before and the guy DOES sport low-cut shirts and tight, tight pants all the time. I don't think dresses would really suit his figure, but he wouldn't be opposed to something frilly in the bedroom if it gave Astarion a laugh.

In every day life, I just don't think he would enjoy the flowyness and pomp one might associate with more (fantasy genre) feminine dress. He's a practical guy! Hence why his wardrobe looks like a lesbian's.

It is only humanoid feet, sorry anon, LOL.

Either dead or on that Vampire Ascendant grind, no in-between.

Probably large felines! But he keeps that to himself to avoid the Drizzt jokes.

I have had a couple of friends that remind me of Astarion, I think we could have been fine-weather buddies when I was in my early twenties and then inevitably stop talking to each other and not really miss one another very much 😂 same thing if I existed in the universe of BG3 - no matter what, I just wouldn't be wanting to get involved with whatever they're doing.

I could never be friends with DU drow but we would get along at the pub. I'm fairly confident they would both find me horrifically boring, be nice to my face, and make fun of me behind my back.

[sturnmeovr]

Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls - Chris Sturniolo

Babydaddy Chris - Positive - Mama - Changed Woman Pairings - Babydaddy!Chris x Fem!Reader Summary - You and Chris put a last minute scavenger hunt together for the boys as a way to reveal your pregnancy. Warnings - Strong language, pregnancy announcement, lil fluffy, Word Count - 2419 Authors Note - Looking for a new label for the reader!! 🤔 give me suggestions! At first I had Changed Woman and Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls as once big ass post but I broke them up lol. I hope everyone like it! I had a lot of fun putting the little notes together. Masterlist Current Series - City of Love Check out my dividers!

“They’re pulling up,” Chris beams from the living room, rushing to the kitchen island where you were sitting. He had been running around like a jittery school kid all day. Finally deciding it was time to tell Nick and Matt, you two pulled together a last-minute scavenger hunt in hopes it’d make the news a little less intense. Chris had no clue how they’d react, telling them they’re going to uncles for the first time was going to be shocking news, but he knew it had to be done. Both of you were tired of making up excuses when Matt would complain about you in the bathroom almost all day, every day. Or when Nick asked why you were wearing Chris's wardrobe and taking a hiatus on drinking.

Everything was prepared. All the envelopes were placed in their designated spots around the house, sealed with a piece of scotch tape, and marked with either your neat handwriting or your boyfriends sloppy handwriting, each one leading to the next. Chris sent his brothers on a few errands after breakfast which made sense because they had a few errands of their own. The three being so close, they took notice of Chris moping around the house, attempting to get it out of him but he suppressed his true feelings every time, refusing to confess the secret he had been holding in the last few weeks. Needless to say, when Chris asked them to pick up a few things for him, they didn’t object. He made sure to give them a long list, keeping them out for a few hours so the two of you could get everything ready. Chris taped the first envelope on the front door just minutes before they arrived, your neat handwriting scribbled across it - “let the games begin. The first clue is where you store your shoes. Good luck twin!” 

A mixture of anticipation and nervousness boiled deep down in your gut. At least that's what you thought it was since the feeling was quite different from your constant state of nausea you had been in the last few weeks. You hear the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut, “is this for a video?” Nick asks, poking his head around the corner, “I need to change first if it is.”

“No. No video,” Chris stutters, breaking eye contact to look at you. His face said he was second guessing it all, so you put on your best reassuring smile and nodded him on, trying to give him as much encouragement as you could without physically saying it. Matt takes notice pretty quickly, “what’s wrong with you, kid? You look sick,” his voice laced with concern and his eyebrows scrunched together. Chris swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head, “got a big surprise for you guys. C’mon, find the next clue,” he eggs them on while wrapping an arm around you, desperately trying to wipe the ghost-like expression off of his face. 

You and Chris walk into the living room, watching as his brothers absolutely destroy the organized shoe rack. It was nearly impossible to find the next note, you had stuffed it in a pair of Nick's shoes that he barely ever wore. Matt jumps in excitement as he pulls the crunched up sticky note out of a pair of old, dusty sneakers. You laugh as he thrusts it in the air and shouts, “got it!” 

He brings the note back down to eye level, clearing his throat, “‘now that you found the second clue, go to the fridge and crack open a Mountain Dew,’” he reads off the words you pieced together. You weren’t much of a rhymer, Chris told you what to say on most of them because he knew it would’ve taken you all night. The scavenger hunt being a spontaneous whim of his, you didn’t argue when he sprung the idea on you, you were just happy he was ready to tell them. “Who drinks Mountain Dew?” Nick snorts, knowing it was only in the fridge for company that came over. 

“It rhymed,” you retorted back to him, shrugging your shoulders, “and we have Mountain Dew in the fridge.” Nick and Matt were too excited over the silly scavenger hunt, and they were really letting their competitive sides show. They resembled little kids running around the playground at recess as they raced each other to the fridge, earning laughs from you and Chris as they pushed one another out of the way. Nick gets there first, swinging the fridge door open, “my hand is literally on the door!” You let out a laugh as he argues with Matt, making him pout and cross his arms over his chest, “it’s okay, buddy. You’ll get the next one,” Chris tells him in a playful tone before rubbing a hand down his back. Matt quickly shrugs it off as Nick begins to read the third clue aloud, “clue three will keep you on your toes, check where Matt keeps his clothes.” 

Before you or Chris can say anything, Matt turns on his heels and foots it to his bedroom, “this one's mine!” You erupt in laughter, Chris following quickly behind as you watch Nick chase after Matt. It was funny how competitive they were, not even knowing the prize would be finding out they were becoming uncles. Just as you’re about to walk up the steps you hear Matt yell at Nick, “back door! It says ‘wanting more? Check by the back door,’ hurry up!”

Before you have the chance to get out of the way, Nick is barrelling towards you, jumping down the last few steps to get a head start. Chris snakes a hand around your waist, swiftly yanking you out of his way, “watch the fuck out! It’s not that serious!” he calls after his brother who dismisses his words by waving a hand over his shoulder. Chris looks at you, “you okay?” You force a smile, nodding to him, “I’m fine. Let them be excited.” 

Matt stomps down the stairs, calling out to Nick, “did you get it?!” Nick shouts from the back of the house, “‘no bitchin’, take that ass to the kitchen!”

Matt picks up his pace, quickly making his way to the kitchen. You and Chris follow behind him silently, refusing to give out any hints. The boys had one more clue until they revealed the big secret. So many thoughts run through your head as Matt inspects the kitchen - what were their reactions going to be? Were they going to hate you? - you felt like you were telling Chris all over again, like you were telling your overprotective older brothers, and that felt even worse. Matt puts his feet in action, moving across the kitchen in long strides. You watch as he picks up the white envelope you had taped to the cookie jar. Before he tears into it, you open your mouth to stop him, “read that last one together, Matt.” 

He looks up at you, nodding as he clenches the note to his chest as if he didn’t trust himself. A few moments later, Nick appears around the corner, giving Matt all the initiative he needed to tear open the envelope. He holds it out, “‘hopefully this isn’t too heartbreaking, check the oven to see what’s baking,’” he reads loud enough for the room to hear. His face crunching in confusion, “heartbreaking?” 

You had a feeling Nick could care less about what the notes said, it was obvious his competitive side had taken over. He rushes to the oven and swings it open, revealing a leftover cinnamon roll from breakfast. Chris put it in there hours ago after he realized buns were the only thing you didn’t have. You watch as Nick doubles over to pick the rock hard cinnamon roll up, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, “a cinnamon roll? Why would a cinnamon roll be heartbreaking?” He looks between you and Chris, “they were pretty good at breakfast, probably stale now.” 

“Well,” Chris chokes out in a nervous manner, “we didn’t have any buns.” You let your eyes bounce around the room - Chris scratching the back of his neck like the nervous mess he truly was. Matt rereads the last note over and over again, trying to put two and two together while Nick was looking at the stale dessert dumbfounded. As much as you wanted to scream out your confession, you decided to let Chris do all the talking. Besides, telling his family was something you wanted to leave to him, after all it was his family. Telling your own family was something you were dreading.  

“What the fuck?!” Matt spits out, making you and Chris look at him. The color flushes out of his face like he’s the one who just found out he was about to be a father. Nick was still staring at the cinnamon roll, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, “I don’t get it.” 

“Y/n’s pregnant, dumbfuck!” he chews out. You couldn’t tell if he was pissed or just taken back, and by the look on Chris’s face, he wasn’t sure either. Nick drops the roll, letting it bounce off the tiled floor before he slaps a hand over his mouth, “what?!” 

A strong silence casts upon the kitchen. The familiar feeling of anticipation is no longer in your gut as the four of you eyeball each other, struck for words. You didn’t know what to say or do, but the need to break the tension was weighing down on you like a thousand bricks placed on your back. Deciding to break the awkward silence, you force a toothless smile, letting your small voice croak out, “surprise!”

“You’re fucking joking! Where’s the cameras?” Nick pushes out a shocked laugh, looking around the room to see if he could spot any hidden cameras. Chris clears his throat, “we’re not joking,” running a hand through his hair. His serious demeanor made his brothers come to a realization; this silly scavenger hunt wasn’t a prank, and you were for sure pregnant. He was the most unserious out of the three, his goofy personality is what attracted you to him the most. He was a major goofball and if you were being truthful, this did seem like a prank he’d put together for the hell of it. Except, it wasn’t a prank at all - it was the real deal. 

You let your worries get the best of you. Feeling hot tears brim the waterline of your eyes, you quickly blink them away before looking down at your hidden bump. Chris’s hoodies did a fantastic job at hiding your baby bump these last couple weeks. You panicked when you started showing, even though your bump was barely noticeable, you didn’t want anyone to catch on before your announcement. The only indication you were pregnant was the constant puking in the hall bathroom Matt and Chris shared and you wanted to keep it that way until you were ready to confess. All eyes were on you as you smooth a hand over your bump, making the hoodie hug at your waist, showing your small. You could easily say you were bloated and get away with it. Nick and Matt gasp in harmony as you lift the hoodie up to expose your growing bump. It wasn’t much, but it was still proof of your baby's existence, proof that your baby was growing. Nick peels his hand from his mouth to speak, “you’re already showing?!” He makes his way to your belly, holding out a hand like he’s asking if he can touch. You nod him on, “yup, it’s real,” he says out loud, making you snort. Nick was really trying to convince himself this was reality. The last few weeks, you felt the same, so you couldn’t blame him. 

“How far along are you? Why didn’t you guys tell us?!” Matt shoots out questions like a disappointed father. He wasn’t upset that you and Chris were expecting, he was upset that Chris would keep such a big secret from him when they told each other everything. Some things they didn’t even tell Nick or you. “We’re telling you now bud. She’ll be eleven weeks this friday,” Chris jokes until he realizes Matt’s hard expression isn’t budging, “I don’t know. I was scared, didn’t want you guys to be mad at me.” You can hear the sadness in his voice, almost like a kid who was apologizing to his parents for bad grades. “I’m not mad you’re having a baby. I’m upset ‘cause you didn't tell me sooner. We all could’ve been figuring this shit out together Chris,” he lectures him like the true big brother he is. Matt moves his feet to walk towards you, “how long have you known?” 

“We found out at 7 weeks,” you manage to get out before he places a hand on your belly without warning, “yea that’s real,” he confirms, shooting looks between his brothers and back down at you. “I want to know about the next one as soon as it happens,” he grumbles, keeping his hand on your stomach. Nick snorts, “please,” taking a hand off your belly so Matt could get better access, “you were probably in the next room as they conceived it.” 

“Don’t call my baby an ‘it’. He’s a boy,” Chris argues, a grinning spreading from ear to ear. His comment makes both Matt and Nick look at him. Already knowing what the next question would be, you decide to chime in, “we don’t know yet. He’s just been manifesting the whole time.”

"Hold on," Chris nearly shouts, rushing out of the kitchen, and quickly returning with two extra copies of your first ultrasound you had gotten a few weeks prior. The same bright smile stretched across his face as he hands over a copy to each of his brothers, "doesn't he look like a boy?"

"Chris, it looks like an alien," Nick snickers, earning a playfully gasp from Chris. Matt studies the black and white printed picture, "yup,” he pops, "looks just like you, Chris."

"Funny 'cause you look just like me," Chris shoots back quickly. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, you were bringing a new life into existence in just a few short months. He wasn't ready for it at all, but he was glad his brothers were there to help him, and you, through it.

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

[flemingology]

loving every curve ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: you learn to be intimate again with leah after your pregnancy

warnings: smut (18+), fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), dirty talk, language, post-pregnancy insecurities, body dysmorphia

wc: 4.9K

a/n: I was going to queue this for friday but I couldn't wait LOL. hope you all enjoy!

Pregnancy with Leah was a journey that you wouldn't trade for the world. You and your wife had been unsuccessful a couple times with the IVF journey, so when one day you received the good news, the both of you were on top of the world and couldn't wait to meet the little wonder that was going to be growing in your belly.

It was pure bliss, really. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Leah had stepped into a role that you'd never seen her take up before. She was a very caring person before, but she had stepped that up a notch. It came to a point where you even had to tell her to refrain a little, that you were more than capable of going to work and doing household chores in the first months of your pregnancy – Leah was reluctant to give in, but when she noticed after a few weeks that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the household chores compared with her busy footballing schedule, she gave in.

As the months passed, and you started experiencing the hardships of pregnancy, Leah was the perfect partner. She would be by your side every time you were heaving up your breakfast, wouldn't leave your side if you were feeling weak and would be experiencing blood sugar drops, she would accommodate to all of your cravings – meaning she would sometimes drive to the shop at 3am, eyes still full of sleep, but on a mission to get you pickles and mustard, because that was seemingly what your stomach made you crave that night.

One of the hardest things, though, that you didn't expect, was how wary you were of your body changing. The first couple months nothing visibly changed, not until you started showing. You and Leah loved the little bump in your stomach, a testament to the little life that was growing in your belly. But as the months passed and your stomach started to grow more and more, came the big visible changes on your body. You were well aware that you were going to put on weight and that your body wouldn't look the way it had before you grew pregnant, but you were still in your head about it.

The stretch marks, the bloated feeling, the swollenness – that accompanied with naturally heightened emotions, it wasn't nice. You knew that it was normal and that it was only happening because your body had to accommodate for the child that was growing inside of you, but you couldn't get it out of your head.

Leah reassured you every day that she thought you were beautiful, that you'd never looked this good throughout the 5 years of your relationship. She would tell you about the "pregnancy glow" all the time, and would claim that she'd fallen in love with you over and over again ever since you started to show.

You thought it was going to be better after you'd given birth, but the stretch marks and the loose skin didn't magically disappear – you had certainly hoped it would. You'd stuck to applying cream to your stretch marks throughout your whole pregnancy, so you knew the skin would form back to normal rather sooner than later, but you still found it hard to look at yourself in the mirror. The body you had worked so hard for over the last couple years was no longer there, and as much as you had a lovely little baby boy to show for it, you couldn't help but miss it.

It was Friday night, set date night for Leah and you. It was the first time since the birth of your son that the two of you would be going out for date night, rather than staying in. Amanda had taken him for the night, very excited about the prospect of her grandson staying with her for the first time.

You were in your bedroom, looking through the options in your wardrobe, struggling to pick out what to wear. Truthfully, you didn't know what you would even fit in, at this moment in time. You'd lost some of your pregnancy weight but certainly not all of it, and you weren't sure if you would fit into any of the dresses that you owned. You'd tried a couple, to no avail. You wanted to look good, look good for you and look good for your wife, who had been nothing but exceptional to you the past 9 months and more.

You heard a soft padding of footsteps up the stairs, Leah probably noticed that you had been in there for quite some time. She entered your bedroom and you couldn't help but feel remorseful when you shot her a look. She was clad in a straight black pair of trousers, combined with a white, sleeveless top. A very simple outfit, but she looked amazing. She had her hair down, a welcome change to the ponytail she always had it in.

"Hey baby, you good? Just checking, you've been in here for quite some time now," Leah said softly, body leaning against the doorframe. You shot her a defeated look. "I don't know, Le. Nothing fits me anymore, I don't know what to wear," you vaguely gestured towards your wardrobe. You nearly missed the pitiful look that crossed your girlfriend's face before she made her way over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, leaning her chin on your shoulder.

"What about that one," Leah proposed, pointing towards a yellow dress that she gifted you for your anniversary last year. "Tried, it's too tight on my thighs," you responded. She hummed, looking elsewhere. "The red one," she questioned, met with another shake of your head. "Nope, felt like it was suffocating me," Leah nodded, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "How about just a pair of jeans and a shirt then, hmm?"

"None of my jeans fit me, Le. Why do you think I've been walking around in sweatpants the past two weeks," you said, a slight hint of annoyance clear in your voice. "Okay, I'm sorry," she said softly, rubbing her hands over your stomach appreciatively. Before long, she turned you around in her grip, looking you into the eye.

"Would you rather stay home instead, chill on the couch and watch a film, that works for me too," Leah proposed. You casted your gaze down. That sounded perfect, but you didn't want to take this away from her and from you both. You knew how excited Leah had been for today, the day accentuated with a red circle on the calendar that hung in your home office. It'd been ages since the both of you spent some quality time outside the house, finally finding a vacant spot that you two wanted to make use of as best as possible.

She took your chin in between her thumb and index finger, slowly pushing your head back up. She placed one of her hands on the side of your face, rubbing your cheek affectionately. You braved a look at her, eyes slightly watery. "Are you sure," you questioned, but before you could express yourself further, Leah was already nodding. "I'm sure. All I want is to be with you, and I want you to be comfortable. We've got plenty of time together to go out for dinner, but if you'd rather stay in tonight, then we're staying in," she said, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. She wiped away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, pressing a soft kiss against the wet trail it had left behind.

"Come on, love, I'll change real quick and then we can get comfortable on the couch, hmm? I'll order us some food and then we can just enjoy a chill evening together, how's that sound," she said, her gaze still holding yours. You nodded, burying your face in the crook of her neck. "Perfect," you mumbled, earning an appreciative chuckle from your blonde lover who was rubbing her hands up and down your back affectionately.

A couple moments later you made your way downstairs, now dressed in a pair of fuzzy sweatpants and one of Leah's old Arsenal hoodies. You threw some of your softest blankets on the couch and made the both of you a cup of tea, that you were placing on the coffee table by the couch just as Leah came down too, having changed into something more forgiving than what she was wearing before.

"Mm, you read my mind," she said as she walked over, grabbing her mug from the table and taking a swig of her tea. "Just how I like it, thank you baby," she pressed a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away and ordering some food.

"Pizza sound good?", she asked. "Pizza sounds great."

Your night went on quietly, the two of you cuddled up on the couch watching a show you'd discovered together, eating your pizza and stealing kisses from each other now and then.

When the third episode you watched in a row was coming to an end, Leah shifted her body so you were now laying on top of her instead of between her legs. She looked you in the eye and pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, a soft, loving gaze looking over you. "I love you, baby. So much," she started. "I don't care if we're out eating at a fancy restaurant or ordering pizza and binge watching our show, as long as you're my company, I don't care what we do," she smiled, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your nose.

"You're the best, Le. Thank you for being so understanding. And thank you for being the best mum our baby boy could've wished for," at this, you could see Leah's eyes growing wet with unshed tears, forever emotionally affected when her son was mentioned. You grabbed her face in both hands and leaned in closer, pressing a firm kiss against her warm lips. She tasted salty, testament of a tear that managed to escape right before you leaned in.

Leah was the one who broke the kiss after a couple moments, you chasing her lips as you couldn't get enough of her. She chuckled before speaking up, "You're amazing. You carried this little human being inside your stomach for 9 months and then gave birth to it, bringing life to our son. I'm so proud of you and I'm way beyond amazed at what you did. You're wonderful, mama," the new nickname caused a tingle in your chest, but it also sent a shot of arousal somewhere deeper, something you didn't expect to happen.

Your breath hitched and you pulled back a little, cheeks flushing slightly red, to which Leah cocked an eyebrow at you. "Oh?", she questioned, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "That was an interesting reaction," she teased further, placing her hands on your thighs that were on each side of her body, now straddling her.

"Shut up," you said, throwing your head back and looking up at the ceiling. "I'll keep that one in mind," she said before pulling you back down to her, clasping her hands together at the back of your neck and pulling you into a heated kiss. Her lips were firm against yours, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip soon enough to ask for permission. You eagerly granted her that, opening your mouth to which you couldn't hold back a soft moan. Leah's tongue explored your mouth, kissing you with a fervor she hadn't for a while.

Truth be told, Leah and you hadn't really done anything like this since the birth of your son. You and your body were still exhausted from the pregnancy and as much as you wanted to be intimate with her, both the tiredness and the insecurity had held you both back. Leah had been patient, she had been incredible and hadn't pushed for anything. She knew you wanted to take things back up on your own accord and that's why she gave you space. But now, with her toned body beneath you, her hands roaming all over your upper body and her tongue licking into your mouth, you couldn't help but feel the arousal building between your legs.

"Le, please," you whimpered, sounding embarrassingly desperate after only a few minutes of kissing and wandering hands. She pulled away, a frown etched onto her face. "What's wrong, baby, are you okay?", she asked, worry laced into her voice. You grunted. "God, yeah, I'm more than okay. I-," you took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "I need you."

Leah's eyes widened slightly at your words, the look of surprise quickly changing into something else, a playful glint now appearing in her eyes. "Yeah? You sure?", she asked, more out of politeness than actual concern, her hands already starting to wander up your chest, inching closer towards your breasts.

Leah had always been more of a boob than bum girl, and safe to say she was devastated to learn throughout your pregnancy that any of her touches in that area caused you to wince due to the sensitivity of them.

You nodded sheepishly, closing your eyes when you felt Leah's hands grazing your boobs. Despite still clothed, you could feel goosebumps starting to form across your back, your body clearly affected by the slightest of touches provided by the woman tucked underneath you.

"Let's go upstairs, you might be a bit more comfortable", Leah said as she pulled her hands away from you. You knew she was only being mindful of you and your body, but truth be told – you couldn't care less now. You needed her and you needed her now.

You grumbled in response, leaning your head down into the juncture between Leah's shoulders and neck, starting to roll your hips against hers. You heard how Leah's breath hitched, fingers digging into your hips at the sensation. "Needy, huh?", she teased, to which you sunk your teeth into her neck, pulling a hiss out of your girlfriend before soothing the sing with a languid lick of your tongue.

"God, I missed you," Leah whimpered. "I missed this and I missed you, I missed the feeling of your body on top of me," she continued, her words clearly affecting you as you could feel the arousal between your legs growing. Before long, Leah sat the two of you up straight before sliding from underneath you, throwing her legs over the edge of the couch and getting up. "I was serious when I told you I wanted to go upstairs, baby," she smirked, holding her hands out for you to take, hoisting you up from the couch and leading the two of you upstairs to your bedroom.

As much as the touches were hungry and fleeting downstairs on the couch, the air had changed now. Leah's actions were slow, deliberate, calculated. Like she had planned this out weeks ago, like she knew exactly what she wanted to do to have you unraveling underneath her touch.

She closed the door behind you and was back onto you within a moment, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing down the nape of your neck, licking a couple stripes from your upper back up until your ear, softly nipping on your earlobe which caused a low moan to fall from your lips.

You moved your arms behind you, steading yourselves by grabbing Leah's thighs. She continued her ministrations, kissing and licking across all your sensitive spots – she hadn't forgotten anything about how to properly please you. She still knew your body like the back of her hand; knew where to kiss, knew where to lick, knew where to touch.

But just in a second, the vibe hanging between the two of you had flipped completely. Leah manoeuvred the two of you towards the bed, but whilst doing so you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't long, but it brought the insecurities back from a couple hours ago that Leah had meticulously been working away.

Whereas you had been leaning into your girlfriend's touches and affection, you were now subtly pulling away, not trying to make it too obvious what was happening. You didn't want to get in your head about this. You wanted to enjoy this moment. You needed this, really. But you couldn't keep the thoughts at bay, and they were consuming your brain. You became too aware of your skin under Leah's fingertips, and you held a hand to her chest just before she could push you down onto the mattress.

Leah thought you needed a break for some air, but when you leaned your head down against her chest, she knew this was more than that. You couldn't see, but you knew a concerned frown would be etched onto your girlfriend's face. You felt bad, too. Downstairs, you had seen how excited she got when you told her you needed her – the twinkle in her eye gave everything away. One of your hands fisted Leah's shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself while your thoughts were running rampant around your head.

"Hey, hey, baby are you okay?", Leah tried, slowly coaxing your head away from her chest and pushing it back to eye-level. "Did I do anything wrong, did I hurt you?", you could hear how her voice was filled with concern, clearly thinking she was the one that caused you to want to take a step back.

"No, Le. It's not you," you took a deep breath. "It's me," you looked her in the eyes and continued speaking. "I'm just so self-conscious of my body and I don't know if I want you to see it like this," you took her hand in yours and played with her fingers. "I know you've seen it before, and you've definitely seen it since pregnancy, but not in this situation. And it's just got me in my head," you finished, the feeling of embarrassment not letting you go just yet.

Leah breathed out a sigh of relief before she moved around you, sitting down on the bed and patting her thighs, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You followed her instructions, sitting sideways on her lap, your arms around her neck. She gave you a second to get comfortable before she spoke. "You're beautiful, baby. I know these may be empty words but I promise you that I mean it. Your body is the living proof of the little boy you brought to life – that's an incredible achievement."

She held your gaze, trying to get through to you. "This, right here," she pointed between you and her. "is more than just based on pure bodily attraction. Yes, I still find you incredibly attractive. If anything, I find you more attractive than I did before your pregnancy, but I'm also just so in love with you. And that's not just based on how you look or how you feel beneath me, that's about you. You as a person, as a friend, as a lover and especially as a mother. I want to make love to you because you're you, not because you have a toned abdomen or because you have a bicep bulge." Leah held your face between her hands and pulled you closer to her, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. "Now, if you let me, let me show you just how much I love you, please."

You rested your forehead against her and exhaled deeply, affected by Leah's words. You gathered your thoughts and looked up at her, giving her a slight nod. She smiled. "I'll be gentle, I promise," you reciprocated her smile and leaned back in to her, softly pressing your lips against hers.

A couple moments later Leah shifted the two of you so you were now underneath her instead of on your lap, and brought you up the bed so you were resting comfortably against the pillows. "Good?", she questioned, you bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, perfect."

Leah positioned her body on top of you, careful not to rest any weight on you. She placed her thighs on either side of your hips, leaning her head down and starting all over again. She pressed kisses against your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jawline and eventually started moving down your body. Her hands wandered all over your clothed upper body, causing goosebumps to form over your skin.

"Can I take this off, love?", Leah questioned, looking you in the eye as she was playing with the hem of your hoodie. You slightly nodded, but your girlfriend didn't seem satisfied with the lack of response. "I'm gonna need words, baby," she continued, to which you verbally responded yes. "Good girl," she said quietly under her breath, but you caught it and you felt a jolt of arousal course through your body.

She took off your hoodie, revealing your upper body that was only covered by a bra now. "This too?", she asked, to which you seemed a bit more hesitant. "We can leave it on too, I don't mind," she reassured you, but you knew you'd have to get over it anyway. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You trusted her. She loved you and you knew that. "No, it's fine. Go ahead, please," you said.

Leah put an arm around your back and helped you up, unclasping your bra with the other hand – she couldn't conceal the smug grin growing on her face as she expertly removed your bra with one hand. "Still got it, huh," she teased, followed by you rolling your eyes and laying back against the pillows. "Shut it, Williamson."

Leah let her gaze fall to your chest, and she took a deep breath. "God, you're beautiful," she said, before leaning in closer. She seemed a little hesitant to connect her lips to your nipple, but any insecurity melted away once you tangled one of your hands into her blonde locks and tugged her against you.

A heady moan fell from your lips when Leah's warm mouth enveloped your nipple, the other one being rolled between her thumb and index finger. Her tongue flicked over the sensitive peak and you felt yourself involuntarily bucking into her. "Fuck, Le, that feels so good. I missed you," Leah hummed against you, the vibrations against your chest sending jolts of pleasure down to your core.

She let your nipple go with a pop and turned her attention to the other one, expertly sucking and flicking the nub until she felt she had adequately teased you. She came back up, lowering her body down on the bed as her head now rested on your stomach. "Can I take your sweats off, baby?", she asked, still mindful of getting consent from you for every thing she did. You appreciated it, but you'd come to a point where you just wanted her to get over with it. "Yes, Le, please," you whimpered. In other situations you would probably be embarrassed at how desperate your voice sounded, but you couldn't care less now.

Leah understood the need in your voice, and took both your sweatpants and underwear off in one swift movement. "So gorgeous," Leah mumbled under her breath. She came back up your body and leaned her head against the inside of your thigh, slowly pushing the other one open with her hand. "Still okay?", she asked. "More than okay, Le. Please, I need you. Really need you," you grumbled.

Leah took the hint and wasted no more time in getting down to it, burying her face into your heat and licking a long stripe from your entrance up until your clit. You let out a loud moan at the sensation, core already sensitive from how long it had been since you had been touched like that. "Fuck, Leah, just like that," you managed to get out, hands covering your eyes as you were overwhelmed by how good it felt.

Leah sucked, licked, kissed expertly, making sure not a single part of your pussy was left untouched. She shuffled between your legs and made place for her arm, two of her fingers now teasing your entrance as she was sucking on the sensitive, swollen bud of nerves sitting proudly at the top of your folds.

You could tell she was teasing you, fingers ever so slightly dipping in but pulling out before you could even properly feel it. You bucked your hips into her, trying to get some friction from her fingers. Leah chuckled and before you could register it, she inserted her fingers into you completely, the two of you moaning at the feeling.

"Oh, fuck," your breath hitched in your throat when Leah pulled back out, before pushing her fingers inside again. "Fuck, baby, that's so good. You feel so good inside of me," you continued, before a particularly good thrust of your fingers caused you to let out another wanton moan.

"You're so tight, love. I can tell it's been a while, you feel so good. I love making you feel good and I love seeing the faces you make while I'm fucking you," Leah had always been more on the vocal side during sex and you absolutely loved it, especially in moments like these where you needed a little more reassurance. Leah kept pumping her fingers in and out of you, not letting up by any means when she heard your moans grow higher in pitch.

"You're gonna make me cum, Le, please don't stop," you said, the ever so familiar sensation growing in your stomach. "Tell me you're beautiful," Leah said. Your eyes flew open and a confused frown etched onto your face, trying to process her words while she was still slamming into you with fervor. "I said, tell me you look beautiful. I'm not letting you cum before you tell me you look beautiful," she continued, sounding very determined.

You threw your head back and grunted, trying your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay – not the easiest of tasks with Leah going back to sucking your clit. "Please, Le," you pleaded, wanting nothing more than to release all the tension that was building up in your body.

Leah hummed against you in disapproval before detaching her mouth from your core. "It's easy, darling. Just tell me you're beautiful."

You grumbled, "fuck, I'm beautiful," you said, hoping she would finally let you cum now.

"Again," Leah said, speeding up her thrusts a bit more while looking you in the eyes. "Tell me again. Look me in my eyes and tell me again."

"I'm beautiful," you said again, tears welling up in your eyes with the intensity of pleasure that was coursing through your veins.

"One more time. Tell me one more time and I'll let you cum," Leah mumbled under her breath, before dipping her head back into your core, nuzzling herself deep, licking up and down your slit as she kept fingering you.

"I'm beautiful," you yelled, before you felt Leah give a tight squeeze against your thigh, signaling you that you were allowed to cum. Within seconds the coil in your belly snapped, overwhelming your body with pure pleasure. Your back arched off the bed, Leah trying to keep you in place to help you ride out your high – her fingers still pumping in and out of you, now with less intensity than before. You let out a long, low moan when you came down from your orgasm, your body falling back against the pillows – spent.

You chuckled and looked down at your girlfriend, who was wearing a smug smile as she leaned her face against your inner thigh. "You're insatiable, Le", you said, before she slowly pulled her fingers out of your core, to which you hissed – a feeling of emptiness overcoming your senses. She made sure you were watching her as she sucked her digits off one by one, swallowing every last drop of cum you had left on her fingers.

You threw your head back and groaned, feeling a new spike of arousal go down to your core as you watched her sensually bob her mouth up and down her fingers. She came back up after a while, letting you catch your breath for a little while longer before she spoke.

"You really are beautiful, baby. And I love you so incredibly much. I'm proud of you. Thank you for allowing me to do this," you opened your eyes and caught her gaze just as she finished speaking. You leant in and pressed a passionate kiss against her lips, pouring every single ounce of love and adoration you had for the woman next to you into the kiss. "Thank you for doing this. I needed it more than I thought I did. Thank you for being patient," you finished.

"Glad I could make you feel good, mama," she quipped back, a teasing glint in her eye at the use of a nickname she knew you liked, a revelation she only discovered a couple hours ago.

Before long, she found yourself on top of you again and you went at it for a second round, and a third. And maybe, after a warm shower together, even a fourth.

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (14.1/15) - Part I

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @a-moment-captured, @boujiestpoet, @avngrsfangirl, @cocobutterqwueen @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @saturnville @weetjy @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @niahxo @purplelewlew @f1-football-fiend @imjustheretomanifest @gg-trini @kinggbl @iamryani @mitruscity @nichmeddar @xoscar03 @eugene-emt-roe @cherry2stems @louvrepool @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @lewisroscoelove

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. This chapter is a bit shorter for the plot. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 14.1: Silverstone Baby

Monaco's summer heat made Rorie's growing bump feel even more pronounced as they entered Dr. Dubois's office. At sixteen weeks, her petite frame couldn't hide the pregnancy much longer - oversized shirts and blouses had become her wardrobe staple.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind since The Sun's public apology and retraction. Social media had exploded with support after the karting charity race in Austria. "This is what journalism should focus on!" one viral tweet read, accompanied by photos of the junior racers in their miniature suits. "Lewis Hamilton's son has his racing lines DOWN" another proclaimed, with side-by-side comparisons of father and son's driving styles.

The racing community had rallied around them, the paddock's usual politics temporarily forgotten in the face of watching their children race. Even the typically cynical F1 journalists had nothing but praise for the event, particularly after learning the cancelled practice session had been Stefano Domenicali's idea.

"Getting winded already?" Lewis asked softly as Rorie paused in the lobby of Dr. Dubois's office, Dr. Chen's trusted colleague in Monaco.

"Your child's pressing on everything," Rorie replied, adjusting her flowing top. "Between this and keeping up with our son..."

Lyric, ever curious, explored the waiting room with enthusiasm. "Mama sick again?"

"No, baby. Just tired." She settled into a chair, grateful for the air conditioning. "The Sun's apology bought us some time, but people will start noticing soon. That video of me at the karting race had some comments already."

Lewis nodded, pulling Lyric onto his lap. "Post-Silverstone party will be perfect timing. Everyone together for your birthday and Lyric's..."

"And Baby LH squared's debut," Rorie finished, rubbing her bump. "At least Dr. Chen's referral worked out - I wasn't looking forward to flying back to Los Angeles every few weeks."

Dr. Dubois welcomed them warmly. "Ah, the Hamiltons! Angela's told me so much about you. And who's this young man?"

"I'm Lyric!" he announced proudly. "I race now!"

"Oh yes, I saw the videos," Dr. Dubois smiled. "Second place - very impressive! Would you like to help me today? We're going to look at pictures of your baby brother or sister. Sarah and Angela mentioned you're about sixteen weeks now?"

"Yes," Rorie confirmed as she settled onto the exam table. "Angela said you've worked together for years?"

"Since our residency," Dr. Dubois smiled, preparing the ultrasound. "She called me personally about your case. Now, let's see this little one."

The ultrasound screen flickered to life, and Dr. Dubois began the examination. Lyric pressed closer to Lewis, fascinated by the images.

"There we are..." She pointed to the screen. "Look, Lyric - the baby's sucking its thumb!"

"Baby tiny," Lyric observed, his nose almost touching the monitor.

"Not so tiny anymore," Dr. Dubois smiled. "About the size of an avocado now. Let's see if we can determine the sex..." She pressed the wand against Rorie's belly, but the baby seemed determined to maintain its privacy. "Stubborn little one. Let me try something Angela taught me..." Her hands gently pressed around Rorie's bump, encouraging the baby to shift position. "Ah, there we go! Congratulations - you're having a girl!"

Lewis's face split into a triumphant grin. "I knew it!" He bent to kiss Rorie's belly, then her lips. "Told you, love."

"Finally a girl dad, eh?" Dr. Dubois chuckled.

Lewis couldn't contain his happiness. "Lyric, you're going to have a sister!"

Lyric considered this news carefully. "Like L’waura?"

"Yes, like Laura," Rorie laughed, thinking of how the two had become even more inseparable since the karting race. "Would you like that?"

"Name her L’waura?" Lyric asked hopefully.

"We'll add it to the list," Lewis promised, catching Rorie's amused look. They both knew Laura would remain just Lyric's friend rather than his sister's name.

Dr. Dubois printed several ultrasound photos, including one of their daughter still sucking her thumb. "She's perfect," she assured them. "Strong heartbeat, good size - though Mama might feel a bit cramped soon with such a tiny frame."

"Already do," Rorie admitted, accepting Lewis's help to sit up. "Worth it though."

As they left the office, Lyric holding tight to the ultrasound picture of his sister, Rorie leaned into Lewis's side. "A girl," she whispered.

"A girl," he repeated, voice full of wonder. "Think she'll let us sleep more than this one did?"

"Hamilton genes?" Rorie laughed. "Not a chance."

"I believe you owe me dinner. I won our bet," Lewis grinned.

"You're insufferable when you're right," Rorie groaned good-naturedly.

"Ice cream?" Lyric piped up hopefully.

Lewis scooped him up. "Of course - we're celebrating your sister after all."

The Silverstone fanzone vibrated with energy as Lewis stepped onto the stage. The British crowd's roar was deafening as he climbed the steps alongside George Russell, both Mercedes drivers grinning at their home fans. Flags waved in the sea of people - Union Jacks mixed with Mercedes silver and Lewis's purple personal flag.

"Lewis, George - what an incredible turnout!" The interviewer shouted over the crowd. "Your home race always brings out the fans, but this feels special today."

"It really does," George agreed, waving to a group from King's Lynn. "Nothing like racing at home."

"Lewis, we see quite the family gathering here for you?"

"Yeah, got everyone here today," Lewis beamed. "My mum, dad, stepmum Linda, my sisters Nicola and Sam, my brother Nicolas, all the nieces and nephews. And of course, my wife and Lyric."

The crowd erupted at the mention of his son's name, many holding up signs referencing his karting race performance.

"Like Father, Like Son!" read one sign.

"Lyric Hamilton 2040 WDC!" proclaimed another.

"Speaking of Lyric," the interviewer jumped in, "that was quite the showing in Austria. Any thoughts on Mercedes 2040 - Hamilton and Wolff junior lineup?"

Lewis chuckled at the interviewer's suggestion about Lyric's future F1 career, shaking his head. "He's not even two yet!" His smile was warm but firm. "If he wants to race when he's older, I'll support him completely. But no pressure - he needs to find his own path, his own passions. The karting race was for charity and fun. Let him be a kid first."

The crowd's appreciation for his answer was evident in their cheers. George nodded in agreement. "Though I have to say," he added with a grin, "his racing lines were pretty impressive for a toddler."

"Takes after his dad," the interviewer laughed. "Speaking of racing today, both of you qualified strongly. Lewis, P2 - your best qualifying this season. How are you feeling about the race?"

"I feel good. I'm ready."

The pre-race preparation felt different today. Maybe it was having his entire family present, or maybe it was something more - a feeling in the air.

The formation lap. Grid position. Five red lights.

Lights out.

Lewis got a perfect start, challenging Max into Turn 1. The Red Bull defended, but Lewis stayed close, waiting. The Mercedes had shown strong race pace all weekend.

Lap after lap, he maintained the pressure. The pit stops came and went, the gap remaining constant. Then, on lap 48, a chance - Max went slightly wide at Copse.

Lewis pounced, taking the inside line. This time, unlike 2021, there was no contact. Clean, precise, perfect. The crowd roared as he took the lead.

"Great move, Lewis," Bono's voice crackled over the radio. "Twelve laps to go, let's bring this home."

Those final laps felt eternal. Each corner, each straight stretched impossibly long. But the checkered flag finally flew, and Lewis Hamilton crossed the line first at Silverstone once again.

"YES!" His victory radio message was pure emotion. "Thank you everyone! We're back!"

The cooldown lap was a blur of waving to the crowds, his heart pounding with joy. In parc fermé, his father reached him first, wrapping him in a tight embrace. His mother was next, tears streaming down her face.

Then Rorie, beautiful and radiant. He hugged her carefully, wanting nothing more than to acknowledge their daughter too, but knowing they had to wait just a little longer. Lyric bounced in his uncle Nicolas's arms, cheering "Dada win! Dada win!"

The podium celebration was electric, the British crowd singing "God Save the King" at full volume. Lewis pointed to the sky, then to his family below. Nine hundred and forty-five days made this moment even sweeter.

Later, on the fanzone stage again, trophy in hand and surrounded by his family, Lewis felt complete. The Mercedes crew joined them, Toto pulling him into a bear hug.

"Worth the wait," Toto said simply.

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely," Lewis replied, catching Rorie's eye. He made his way to his wife once more, pulling her into a passionate kiss that caused everyone to hoot and holler, even Roscoe had something to say and let out a few howls.

When they finally broke apart, both cheesing so hard like Cheshire cats, Lewis leaned close to her ear to say: "I’m going to tear your ass up later, Mrs. Hamilton. Might fuck ‘round and have twins."

And with that, he gave her his usual panty-melting smirk and a wink for added effect while Rorie just shook her head in mock annoyance.

Leave it to her husband for always thinking about sex. Even after winning his first Grand Prix after 945 days.

"Down, boy."

"Never."

______________________________________________

The London summer evening painted their garden in warm golden light as Rorie surveyed the preparations she'd been directing since dawn. Fairy lights twinkled between oak trees, their subtle glow ready for when dusk would settle. White linen-covered tables dotted the lawn, decorated with fresh peonies and hydrangeas - her favorites mixed with the bright colors Lyric had insisted on.

"The bounce house goes there," she directed, pointing to a clear space near the children's area. "Lyric will riot if he doesn't have somewhere to burn energy with Jack and the others."

Lewis appeared behind her, hands settling on her shoulders. "You should rest. You've been at this since five AM."

"Can't rest. Your mother's coming, and you know she notices everything."

"Pretty sure she already suspects," Lewis chuckled. "You've been wearing my shirts for weeks."

The first guests arrived precisely at four - the Magnussens, always punctual, with their children immediately making a beeline for the bounce house. Louise hugged Rorie carefully, a knowing look in her eyes. "You're glowing," she whispered.

Susie and Jack Wolff weren't far behind, Jack proudly clutching his recent karting trophy. "Look what I won!" he announced to anyone within earshot.

"Good job, Jack!" Rorie praised, though her eyes were on Susie, who was studying Rorie with growing suspicion.

Miles and Spinz had commandeered the music setup, their friendly bickering carrying across the garden.

"Mate, you cannot play that at a kid's party," Miles protested.

"It's a clean version!"

"It's still about–"

"Boys," KiKi interrupted, hugging Rorie. "Let's keep it family-friendly. Need any help, Ror?"

"Just keep me from losing my mind," Rorie laughed.

Timothy wandered the garden, camera in hand, capturing candid moments: Anthony telling racing stories to an enraptured audience, Carmen and Marian deep in grandmother mode and comparing notes about their existing grandchildren, and Lyric leading a pack of children to chase Roscoe, who seemed delighted by the attention.

"He's such a little menace," Hailey observed from her seat, one hand resting on her own visible pregnancy.

Justin nodded, watching the children play. "He's going to run the playground."

Rorie's sister Aaliyah arrived with an armful of presents, her eyes narrowing at how Rorie's oxford shirt draped. "Something's different about you…"

"Help me with the cupcakes?" Rorie deflected, leading her sister toward the kitchen.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the garden, Lewis stood and tapped his glass with a spoon. The chatter gradually quieted.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate Rorie and Lyric's birthdays," he began, his voice warm with emotion. "The past few years have blessed us beyond measure. But…" he paused, eyes finding Rorie's, "we have one more surprise."

Rorie stood beside him, fingers working at her oxford shirt buttons. As the fabric fell open around her sixteen-week bump, Marian's screech pierced the evening air.

"Thank you Jesus!" She rushed to embrace her daughter, tears flowing freely. "My baby's having another baby!"

The garden erupted in celebration. Carmen and Anthony enveloped Lewis in a tight hug while Linda wiped tears from her eyes. Nicolas kept repeating, "I knew it! I knew something was different!"

When the initial excitement began to settle, Rorie cleared her throat. On cue, waiters appeared with cupcakes decorated with either "2" or "31".

"On three," she announced, eyes sparkling, "everyone take a bite."

"One…" Lewis began, arm around her waist. "Two…" Rorie continued, hand on her bump. "Three!" Lyric shouted, chocolate already smeared on his chin.

Pink filling revealed itself as everyone bit down.

"It's a girl!" the Hamilton family announced together.

Miles dissolved into tears, surprising no one. "You lot are too good at this, bruv. First the karting race, now this…"

"Our kids are going to be best friends," Hailey laughed, embracing Rorie.

"Another girl for the gang," Louise grinned. "Laura will be thrilled."

Under the fairy lights, surrounded by family and friends, their precious secret was finally, joyfully out. Lyric tugged on Lewis's shirt, pointing to his mother's bump. "Sister in there," he announced proudly. "I help teach racing."

Lewis scooped him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes, you will, big man. Yes, you will."

The Hungarian paddock settled under overcast skies, a stark contrast to the warmth that had flooded Lewis's social media since their announcement. Rorie's photos, captured by Huy in New York, had taken over Instagram - stunning shots of her in a flowing black designer dress, the Manhattan skyline creating a dramatic backdrop. Her elegant silhouette highlighted the gentle curve of her bump, the high-fashion aesthetic pure Rorie. Huy's caption had been beautifully cryptic: "Baby LH-squared coming soon… 💙💗"

The fashion blogs that would normally be dissecting his new Dior ambassadorship and upcoming African-inspired ski resort collection were instead filled with screenshots of the announcement. "Lewis Hamilton: Seven-Time World Champion, Fashion Designer, and Soon-to-be Double Dad!" read one headline.

Social media was ablaze with speculation: "The way she's styled that bump! 😍" "Team boy! Lyric needs a brother!" "Nah, it's definitely a girl - look at how she's carrying" "First the Silverstone win, now this - what a summer for the Hamiltons!" "Anyone else notice the blue tights she’s wearing? 👀 #TeamBoy!"

"Any hints about what it is?" The questions and congratulations came from every direction as Lewis made his way through the paddock. Team principals, mechanics, catering staff - everyone had theories. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since Rorie's post went live, the Dior announcement almost completely overshadowed by impending parenthood.

"Another little champion!" Fred Vasseur called out and enveloped him in a quick hug. "Do you guys know what the baby is?"

"I can’t tell you, Fred. Sorry," laughed Lewis as Fred pouted like a child.

"I won’t tell anyone. Not even my wife."

"Sorry, no can do. Rorie’ll kill me." And with that, he pantomimed his lips shut and continued on his way as Fred muttered a few grumbled curses in French.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with extra energy. Toto had already ordered two tiny race suits - one pink, one blue, and conspiratorially push the pink one closer to him. "We'll save the other for next time," he'd joked with a wink.

Charles Leclerc then stopped by the Mercedes garage. "Another racing Hamilton," he grinned. "Boy or girl?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Lewis replied smoothly, though keeping their secret made him want to burst.

"The Dior collection's looking amazing," Naomi Campbell had texted him a bit later. "But more importantly - any hints about baby? You know I need to start shopping! 👶🏽"

As qualifying approached, the congratulations and questions continued. Even the Sky Sports crew led with baby speculation before asking about track conditions.

The overcast sky threatened rain as Lewis prepared for qualifying, but his mood remained bright. Between Silverstone's victory, the pregnancy announcement, and yes, the Dior partnership, everything felt aligned.

His PR team had already fielded calls from every major outlet, all wanting exclusive details about the pregnancy. They'd stuck to their plan - minimal information, maximum privacy. After everything with The Sun, they were taking no chances.

"Focus time," Bono reminded him as he climbed into the car.

But even as he centered himself for qualifying, Lewis couldn't help but smile. Fashion collections could wait. Championships would come and go. Right now, his growing family was the only headline that mattered - even if everyone else was still guessing what color to buy.

The clouds grew heavier as qualifying approached. Weather radar suggested rain might hold off until Q2, but nothing was certain. Just like all the gender predictions flooding social media.

"Ready?" Bono asked, appearing with his race notes.

Lewis nodded, feeling centered despite the buzz around him. The Mercedes felt good under him during practice. Maybe today would bring another celebration to add to their summer of joy. Either way, as he prepared to head out for Q1, Lewis felt complete. His career was soaring, his fashion dreams were becoming reality, and most importantly, his family was growing.

The season still had plenty of racing ahead, the Dior collection would launch in due time, but right now, sitting in his car and listening to the familiar pre-qualifying radio checks, Lewis was simply a man looking forward to the future - all while keeping the sweetest secret tucked safely away.

"Track is clear," Bono's voice came through the radio. "Let's make this one count."

Lewis pulled out of the garage, ready to give the crowd something else to talk about besides baby predictions. Though he had to admit - watching the world try to guess what they already knew made every lap just a little bit sweeter.

_______________________________________________

Aaron lounged in one of the deck chairs on his brother's sprawling South Carolina property, watching Azariah tend to the grill. The smell of barbecue filled the warm evening air, punctuated by the distant sounds of Azariah's kids playing in the yard.

"You were wrong for that," Azariah said suddenly, not looking up from the grill. "What you said to Rorie in Barcelona."

Aaron scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. "Man, why you still on that?"

"Because you were out of line." Azariah's voice was firm but calm, the same tone he'd used to keep Aaron in check since they were kids. "And you know it."

"Whatever," Aaron muttered.

Azariah finally turned to face his younger brother. "You're mad at Dad. I get it. We all are. But Rorie? She didn't ask for any of this."

"She got the good life though, didn't she?" Aaron's voice was bitter. "Living it up with her Formula 1 champion husband while we—"

"While we what?" Azariah cut in. "Got private school education? Trust funds? Come on, man. You sound stupid right now."

Aaron fell silent, his jaw working as he stared out at the perfectly manicured lawn.

"You know what I see when I look at Rorie?" Azariah continued, flipping a burger. "I see a woman who grew up without her father. The only difference is she had no idea who he was."

"She knew," Aaron argued weakly.

"A name," Azariah corrected. "She had a name. That's it. No Christmas presents, no graduation appearances, no father-daughter dances. Nothing."

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"So check yourself," Azariah concluded. "Your beef is with Dad. Don't put that on her."

As the sun set over the property, Aaron sat with his brother's words simmering in his mind. Azariah's wife, Michelle, came out with a plate of cornbread, their two daughters trailing behind her.

"Uncle Aaron!" the girls called out, but Aaron barely heard them, lost in his thoughts.

"Earth to Aaron," Azariah said, waving a spatula. "Food's ready."

Aaron didn’t move, his mind drifting to Rorie. News of her second pregnancy had hit him harder than he wanted to admit. He thought of Azariah's recent comment about how his daughters were excited to meet their cousin Lyric and the new baby. Azariah had even brought it up earlier that day, casually suggesting that Aaron should smooth things over.

Aaron had dismissed it at the time, but now the words weighed on him.

"I need to talk to Dad," Aaron said suddenly, standing up.

Azariah paused, studying his younger brother. "About?"

"About all of it. About her." Aaron’s voice was tight with emotion. "About why he gets to play happy family now when he—" He broke off, shaking his head.

"Aaron—" Azariah started, concern etched in his face.

"Nah, man. I hear you about Rorie, alright? Maybe you’re right. But Dad? He doesn’t get to just..." Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides. "He doesn’t get to pretend like everything’s cool now."

Azariah nodded slowly, sensing the deep pain behind his brother’s anger. "Just don’t do anything stupid."

Aaron was already heading toward his car, his dinner forgotten. The anger that had been misdirected at Rorie had found its proper target, and Martin Edwards was about to hear exactly what his youngest son thought about his attempts at playing father of the year.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[aemondsbabe]

Hour of the Owl

summary: there's only one thing you want for your nameday and your sweet husband is more than happy to let you have it

pairing: dom!harwin strong x sub!reader x switch!daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors go away!), afab reader, reader is described as having some targaryen features (white hair, lilac eyes) but no other physical descriptors are mentioned, threesome, oral sex (f & m receiving), handjobs, piv sex, brief spitting, cum play, brief breeding kink, choking, spanking, daemon ignoring the rules, fingering, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, facesitting, very brief mention of miscarriage (world building only, does not directly affect the reader), praise kink, degradation, aftercare included, some fluff, "good cop/bad cop" trope, hair pulling, creampie, bi!daemon and harwin (they're at least experimenting asdfgh), daemon whimpering!!! i repeat, daemon whimpering!!!

word count: 11.8k (genuinely HOW)

a/n: this is dirty, y'all, i won't lie. this is filthy, filthy stuff. there's literally about 7.2k words of just pure smut here. gird your loins, this one is a wild ride. godspeed.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

A soft breeze blows through the sheer curtains of your chambers, filling the room with the scent of the sweet smelling flowers your older sister had planted in the gardens of the Red Keep a few moons prior. You busy yourself with removing the countless delicate golden pins your ladies had stuck in your hair that morning, silvery hair pooling around your shoulders as you undo braid after braid. Finally, you run your fingers through the last one, lost in thought as you walk out onto your balcony, your feet bare against the cool stone floors. 

You sigh as you lean against a stone ledge, looking out over the many fires and torches that light Kings Landing each night, spread out below the Red Keep like a field of stars. You say a quick prayer to the Mother as you gaze at the moon, praying for your sister’s safety during her pregnancy; praying that this one would carry to term and that the Seven would bless your sweet niece Rhaenyra with a little brother or sister. 

You smile as you hear the heavy wooden door to your chamber opening, practically skipping to the door as Harwin slips inside, already unbuckling his leather armor.

“My love!” You call happily, giggling at the exaggerated groan he makes as you thud into him, practically attacking him as you wrap your arms around him, “I missed you!” You whine playfully, breathing in his scent as you bury your face in his chest, your cheek pressed against the tunic he wears. 

“I missed you too,” he laughs, his hands hooking under the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his middle. He walks you over to your large bed and gently sits you down on the plush fabric, “My sweet little wife,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning around and striding over to the mirror leaning against the wall next to your wardrobe. “What meanness did you busy yourself with today, I wonder?” He questions, smiling adoringly at you over his shoulder. 

“No meanness,” you smile, eyes scanning his muscular body as you watch him unbuckle and untie his leathers and tunic; you bite your lip when he finally pulls the tunic over his head, eyes scanning his bare back, lightly tanned with various scars and bruises from his training. You feel a heat building in your belly at the sight of him, which only grows stronger when he turns to face you once more, your eyes roaming over his strong chest and stomach, covered in dark hair that disappears beneath the tops of his trousers. “I simply assisted Aemma in choosing decorations for the princess’s upcoming nameday celebrations,” you start, standing from the bed and making your way over to Harwin, watching for a second as he struggles with the knot at the top of his trousers before you finally push his hands away and begin pulling at the strings yourself, “Then I aided her in welcoming some new maids, worked more on my needlepoint, and responded to the letter from our mother.” You shrug, finally pulling the ties free before returning to the bed. 

“A busy day indeed,” he smirks, running a hand through his curly hair as he stalks toward you, “Mine was much the same; we started training the new recruits today.” 

“My poor husband,” you pout, sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed, “Working so hard.” You coo, aching between your thighs as Harwin places his hands on your waist, feeling his warmth through the thin, nearly translucent Myrish lace of your nightgown. You press a soft kiss to the middle of his chest, the hairs there tickling your lips, before you bring your hands up to his shoulders and begin kneading the skin there, massaging around his neck and shoulders. 

He groans appreciatively, letting his eyes slip closed and his head tilt back as he allows himself to savor the feeling for a moment; your sweet hands, so small and delicate compared to his, still send shivers down his spine. He can’t help but think of the first day he saw you – you had looked so ethereal stepping out of your family’s carriage in the courtyard, draped in a fine silk dress in the sky blue color of House Arryn’s coat of arms. You had arrived the day Princess Rhaenyra was born and had made King’s Landing your home ever since.

He had been fond of you from that moment forward, offering to give you tours of the Keep and personally escorting you anytime you ventured from its walls. He had known you for nearly eight years and in all that time, he had yet to find a single fault with you. Were it up to him alone, the two of you would have been married within a week, although you had always joked with him that those were the exact sorts of thoughts you’d expect from the foolhardy teenage boy he was at the time. Eventually, your families finally came to a marriage agreement, Lord Rodrik Arryn pleased with the promise of you one day inheriting Harrenhal with Hawin. He smiles, thinking back to your wedding day, in disbelief that it was nearly a year ago now. 

Finally, he opens his eyes once more, finding your mesmerizing lilac ones already gazing back at him. “You are so handsome,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair as you lovingly smile at him, “The most beautiful man in all the kingdoms.”

He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his arms holding you tightly to him, wanting to feel as much of you pressed up against him as possible. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet smells of the oils you use in your baths, “And you are positively divine, my sweet love,” he murmurs, pulling back to gaze at you once more as he twirls a silvery strand of hair between his fingers, “The Seven have truly blessed me with the most heavenly of creatures.” 

You blush, lying back on the bed as he kicks off his trousers, his entire form finally bare to you. Your eyes roam his tanned skin appreciatively as you lean back against your pillows, fingers fiddling with a tie at the front of your dressing gown. 

“Would you do me the honor of joining me in the bath, my lady?” he asks, reaching out a hand to help you up from the bed. 

“Oh, I would be honored, my handsome knight,” you joke back, kissing his cheek before the two of you make your way over to the bath, separated from the rest of your chambers with a decorated screen you’d gotten from a trip to Dorne many years ago.

You quickly undress, draping your gown over the screen, as Harwin steps into the bath with a hiss, “Seven Hells!” He curses, wincing as his skin adjusts to the water, “Did you have your maids retrieve this water from the belly of the Dragonmont itself?” 

You snicker, gently easing yourself into the water at the opposite end of the tub, “After all this time one would think you would know how I take my baths, husband.”

He simply rolls his eyes, finally lowering himself into the rest of the water with a pained groan, much to your amusement, which earns you a splash. The two of you laugh together for a moment and you tell him all about the various decorations you’d chosen for Rhaenyra’s nameday as the two of you quickly wash. Finally, he beckons you over, resting his arms on the rim of the bath as you settle yourself against him, curling into the side of his long, burly body as you lay your head on his chest, creating swirly patterns in the hair on his chest with the point of your finger as you finish describing the decadent flavors you and Aemma had chosen for the cake. 

“Speaking of namedays,” he begins, chuckling as he hears you groan, “A certain someone’s nameday is a mere two days away and she has yet to tell me anything she wishes for.”

“I’ve told you,” you start with a sigh, peering up at him, “How am I meant to wish for anything when you spoil me so?”

“I do not spoil you!” He admonishes, a guilty smile tugging at his lips, “I simply give you all that you deserve for being such a sweet little wife.” he teases, punctuating each word of the pet name with a kiss to your forehead and cheeks, making you giggle – his favorite sound in the world. You lay in a comfortable silence for a moment, still tracing various shapes and patterns onto his chest before he speaks again, his voice soft and questioning, “There must be something you long for, my love. Anything you want, simply name it.” 

You stay silent for a minute longer, pondering exactly how to voice your thoughts. There was something you wanted, or rather someone — Daemon, the king’s younger brother. Like Harwin, he had caught your eye quickly when you’d first arrived at King's Landing. According to Aemma, Viserys had even been considering betrothing the two of you for a time; though your sister had put a quick stop to that, she had never been the Rogue Prince’s biggest fan. 

Yet, still, there was something about him that simply drew you to him, something intriguing in the way he moved, the way he spoke. You loved your husband, more than anything else, but Daemon was…tempting, you couldn’t lie. 

You look up at Harwin, still silent as you stare into his soft brown eyes, before looking away again, unsure of how to even broach the topic. 

As per usual, though, your ever-observant husband was one step ahead of you. His toned arms wrap around you and pull you up, until you’re sitting in his lap, your legs on either side of his muscular thighs as you straddle him, balancing yourself by holding onto the rim of the tub as his hands remain on your waist, “It is the prince, is it not?” He asks slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Husband,” you start, worried he is upset with you, “You must unde–”

“I understand, my little love,” he soothes, pulling you closer to him, relishing the way your breasts press against the firmness of his chest, “You need not explain it to me,” you rest your head on his warm chest, your face buried in his neck, “Lust for him does not do away with your love for me, I know this.” He confirms, gently carding a hand through your hair.

Even with his reassurance, you remain silent for a moment still; this is new territory in your relationship – never before had you seriously considered the possibility of sharing yourself with another, your husband so adoring and protective of you that you never dreamed he would entertain the thought.

“You…wish to share me in this way? Truly?” You question, heart skipping a beat when you feel his cock beginning to harden between your legs.

“I admit I was wholly against the idea at first,” he starts, his calloused hands slowly running up and down your thighs, half-submerged in the warm water, “I am still not thrilled that the object of your desire is Prince Daemon,” he laughs, teasing you, “Of all the knights in all the seven kingdoms, you pick him.” He jokes, his chest vibrating underneath you as he laughs.

“Harwin!” You gasp to hide your own laughter, though you know the cheeky smile tugging at your lips gives you away, “Please, be serious!” You reprimand, playfully slapping at his chest.

“I yield, I yield,” he laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. Eventually, the two of you settle down once more, a quiet calmness descending over you, “But I see the way you look at him,” he smiles, indicating that he isn’t upset when he sees worry cloud your soft features once again, “Very different from the way you look at me…only lust. And I see the way he looks at you,” your head shoots up at this, a soft blush creeping over your cheeks at this knowledge, “Lust, yes, but also a certain softness,” his hands come to rest on your hips once more, gently rocking your slick heat against his length, “Like you are something sacred to behold.”

He finishes finally, taking pleasure in the way you shudder against him, small whimpers and whines escaping your lips as your bud is dragged up and down his cock, his hands gripping your waist so tightly there are sure to be bruises in the morning.

“Husband,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut as you mewl into his neck, the lavender scent of your bath oils filling your lungs, “Oh, Gods!” You moan, your aching bud catching on the head of his cock.

“He should look at you in that way,” Harwin grunts, thighs bending under the curve of your rear as his knees come up out of the bathwater, giving him more leverage to rut against you, “Like you are, fuck, like you are something divine.” He groans into the hair at the crown of your head, big hands coming up to cup your breasts, thumbs swirling against your sensitive nipples, “You are, my love,” his words come out in breathless, broken gasps, “Divine, sacred, a gift sent straight from the Seven.”

You nod wordlessly, whines and moans getting caught in your throat as your hands roam over the firm planes of his chest, lips busying themselves against the column of his throat. No further words are needed between the two of you, a common understanding being enough for now as your bodies press closer together, nearly melding into one beneath the warm, sweetly scented water. 

Golden morning light shines in through the sheer curtains of your chambers as you busy yourself with dressing for the day, your maids flitting around you as they button, tie, and lace you into your dress. 

Harwin had left much earlier than you, already strapped into his leathers before the sun rose above the horizon. Just like every other morning, he had gently kissed you awake to let you know he was leaving, telling you he promised to be safe when training and that he would see you at supper. Unlike every other morning, however, he had added, “I imagine I shall see Prince Daemon in the training yard today,” he had softly cooed, a warm hand tenderly caressing your cheek, “If I do, I shall speak with him about our…offer. See what he says.” 

At the time, you had simply mumbled sleepily, head too clouded with sleep to truly process his words. Now, though, you could not keep from wringing your hands with worry, fidgeting uneasily as your hair was pinned up, half your hair braided and wrapped up into a bun at the crown of your head, the rest left to cascade down your shoulders like a pearly waterfall. 

Your maids finally finished, leaving you in your chambers with your still steaming breakfast, which you could only bring yourself to pick at, the nervous knots in your stomach keeping your appetite at bay. 

What if he thinks me perverse? You worry, staring out at the morning sky, watching as puffy clouds blow in from the winds of Blackwater Bay. You know this is nonsensical — if even half the rumors of Daemon’s various appetites were true, he had no justification to call you of all people perverse. What if he tells everyone? You wonder, halfheartedly sipping at your tea, but even this you know was absurd. He was brash, incredibly rude at times, but the prince knew when to be discreet, and if he truly gazed at you in the way your husband claimed, you had no doubt he would keep your secret. 

After exhausting your list of worries, you finally stand up from your small breakfast table, intending to find Aemma and ask for her to accompany you on a walk through the gardens. 

You make your way into the hallway, winding your way through the various passages of the Red Keep in your search for your sister, saying polite thank you's to anyone wishing you a happy early nameday.

“Auntie!” You hear a small voice call behind you as you step out into the Godswood, the stoic face of the weirwood tree there peering at you from under its canopy of red leaves. You turn on your heel, smiling brightly when you see Rhaenyra running at you at full tilt.

You scoop her up at the last second, grunting a small “Oof!” as she barrels into your arms, “If it isn’t my favorite little niece!” You chirp brightly, her small arms hugging around your neck, “What wickedness are you up to?”

“Training!” She answers, excitedly squirming in your grasp, perched atop one of your hips.

“Training?” You question with exaggerated interest, “Whatever for?”

“To ride Syrax!” She giggles, “She’s getting big and the keepers say she is almost ready!”

“How exciting,” you nod, setting her down before crouching before her, “She is growing quickly indeed,” you add, motioning for her to turn around before you begin braiding her hair, the same pale shade as your own, “Are the keeper’s training you as well?” 

“Konir sagon ñuha gaomilaksir,” a deep, smooth voice answers from behind you. You gasp, whipping your head around just in time to see Daemon step into the courtyard, dressed in his familiar dark metal armor, Dark Sister hanging from his belt, “Ñuha riña.” He nods simply. (That would be my job.) (My lady.)

“Ñuha dārilaros,” you nod in return, quickly finishing Rhaenyra’s braid before standing and turning to face him, “I trust the morning has found you in good spirits.” (My prince.)

“Oh, it has indeed,” he says, eyes flashing with mirth as he smirks at you, his head cocking to the side, stands of pale hair contrasting against the dark metal covering his chest, “Eman ryptan mirri udir, ñuha riña.” He drawls. (I have heard some news, my lady.)

This catches Rhaenyra’s attention, her Valyrian lessons clearly paying off as she gasps excitedly as she bounces between the two of you, “What news? What news?” 

“Nothing to worry your pretty head about,” Daemon chides, shaking his head with a small smile, “Just some news from the council, nothing that would be of interest to you,” he continues quickly, waving his hand dismissively before nodding his head to the old stone archway that leads back inside the Keep, “I need to speak with your aunt quickly, run along to the dragonpit. I’m sure Syrax would appreciate a treat before we begin training.” 

Rhaenyra nods happily, twirling a small yellow flower around in her hands as she practically skips from the courtyard, singing, “A treat for Syrax, a treat for Syrax!” as she disappears down the hall.

“Ao jorrāelatan naejot ȳdragon lēda nyke?” You question once Daemon returns his attention to you, politely clasping your hands together. (You needed to speak with me?)

“Ser Harwin approached me earlier this morning in the yard,” he starts, eyes sweeping over your body like a predator eyeing its prey, “Vēttan nyke iā jiōragon.” He smirks, watching you blush under his gaze. (He made me an offer.)

“Gōntan ziry?” (He did?)

“Konir sagon paktot,” he continues, voice nearly patronizing as he slowly paces around you, circling you like a shark in the water, “He says you want me to fuck you.” He finishes, coming to stand before you once more, a proud smile on his face once he sees the shock on yours. (That’s right.)

“Iksis bisa drēje?” He asks once it becomes clear you don’t know how to respond. (Is this true?)

“Kessa.” You say simply, inwardly wincing at the wobble in your voice, though you try your hardest to appear confident. (Yes.)

Daemon snickers, “Naughty, naughty girl,” he tsks, shaking his head teasingly, one hand casually perched on the hilt of his sword, “He tells me I’m meant to be your nameday present; quite the honor, I must say.” 

“Mērī lo ao agree naejot se jiōragon, ñuha dārilaros.” (Only if you agree to the offer, my prince.)

“Consider this my agreement,” he says proudly, gaze straying to the neckline of your gown, “I’ve been asked to arrive at your chambers at the hour of the owl,” his lilac eyes meet yours once again, “Is this acceptable, naughty girl?”

You flush deeply at his nickname, only used to sweet praises from Harwin, “That is most acceptable, my prince.” You nod.

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he chides, reaching forward to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, “Certainly not with the way we’ll be so intimately acquainted later this evening,” he steps back again, still smirking, “You may call me Daemon…or sir.” He adds, noting the way it makes you squirm. 

“Very well…Daemon.” You tease, feeling proud when you see his eyes widen just the slightest bit. 

“Perhaps this sweet little kitten has claws after all,” he smirks, eyes looking you up and down once more, “Very well,” he says with a nod, “I’m needed at the dragonpit, but I shall be seeing you and your husband later this evening.”

“Hen rhinka.” You nod as you watch him leave, your entire body relaxing, releasing unrealized tension, as soon as his back disappears from view. You allow yourself to breathe for a few moments, standing in the silent courtyard as your heartbeat returns to normal, before you leave, once again going to try and find Aemma, or really anything else to keep yourself occupied until the evening. (Of course.)

“I promise, sweet girl,” Harwin says, watching from the small sitting area in your chambers as you pace back and forth across the stone floor, “I told him all he would need to know. About you, about what you like, all of it.”

You nod, half listening, as you walk back and forth, feet bare on the large, plush fur rugs that cover the floor in front of the fireplace. The warmth of it on your skin was usually a welcome feeling, although tonight you only felt overheated. Outside, the sky was dark, the sun having set quite a while ago. King’s Landing once again sprawled out like a sea of stars beneath the Keep, mirroring the stars in the black sky overhead, the bright light of the moon reflecting off of the waters of the bay – the hour of the owl was drawing close. 

“We do not have to do this if you’re having second thoughts, my love,” he says, standing and striding over to you, “If you wish, I will simply tell Daemon to fuck off.” He jokes, chuckling as you relax in his arms.

“I do want to!” You sigh, tilting your chin up to peer up at him through your lashes, “I’m simply nervous, I suppose. We’ve never done anything like this before,” you bite your lip, looking away from him as you resume speaking, “Honestly, I’m still shocked you agreed to it at all.”

“I want to share you,” he shrugs, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of your head, “Show off what’s mine.” He says lowly, chuckling when he feels you shiver against him – he knows very well that his possessiveness gets to you.

Suddenly, a knock sounds on the thick wooden door of your chambers, making you jump, which makes Harwin chuckle as he stands to open it; he had dismissed the guard that normally stood at your door in the evening, insisting that he take the night off. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you merely stand in front of the fire, nervously fidgeting. 

Your husband gives you one last look, his eyes questioning; you nod to him, signaling that it was okay, that this was truly what you wanted, and he opened the door. 

“Ser Harwin,” Daemon drawls, looking your husband up and down as he strides into the room, cocky as usual. Finally, his eyes land on you and you can’t help the small fizzle that takes hold in your belly at the way he stops suddenly in his tracks, his eyes glazing over as he looks you over, “My lady,” he says softly, nodding at you as he stalks closer to where you stand, feet still planted firmly in the carpet, “Ȳdra daor ao jurnegon gevie.” (Don’t you look beautiful.)

“He says I am beautiful,” you tell your husband, translating the Valyrian for him, an act that is second nature for you now. “Kirimvose.” you say, trying your hardest to keep your voice from trembling. (Thank you.)

Daemon comes to stand in front of you, his eyes searching yours for a second, looking for any hesitation you suppose. When he finds none, he hooks a finger into the delicate ribbon tied around your waist, the one keeping your silk dressing gown shut; again, he catches your eyes, and again you suppose he must find what he’s searching for because suddenly he’s pulling the bow there undone. 

“She looks ravishing all the time,” your husband said, his breath fanning over the back of your neck as he seems to materialize behind you, rough hands skirting up your arms before coming to rest at your shoulders, “The most beautiful creature.”

“A beautiful creature,” Daemon agrees, his hands, not as rough as Harwin’s though still battle-worn, settling on your hips as he looks at your body appreciatively, his light eyes growing darker by the minute, “And a naughty thing.” He finishes, smirking when he hears a small, barely there whimper escape your lips. 

“Is she?” your husband asks, gathering all your hair over one shoulder, exposing one side of your neck before he kisses you there, relishing the sigh he gets in return. You gasp as one of his hands comes up to cup your breast, warming your skin through the thin lace of your nightgown, “She’s such a good, obedient girl.”

You lean back into Harwin, your back against his firm chest as he kneads your breast, sending sparks flying down between your thighs. “Only bad little things fantasize about being taken by two men.” Daemon practically growls. Your eyes are only half open but you still don’t miss the look he gives your husband over your shoulder, nor do you miss the way the brunette subtly nods against the column of your neck. You moan when Daemon’s lips finally press against your own, his mouth soft and warm, tongue already licking into your mouth. 

The motion presses you further back against Harwin, pressing his half-hard cock into the small of your back, the feeling making you near dizzy with lust as you realize that he truly wanted this just as much as you. Daemon’s tongue eventually wins its battle for dominance and the two of you kiss for a moment longer, the only sounds in your chambers being being yours and the prince’s lips moving together as your husband kisses, licks, and bites along your neck, causing you to mewl softly into Daemon’s waiting mouth like a puppy. 

“Are you a bad girl, sweet little thing?” The prince growls against your jaw as he finally separates his lips from yours, trailing kisses down the opposite side of your neck. 

When you neglect to answer, too caught up in the men’s attention, Harwin suddenly palms at the plump flesh of your rear, roughly grabbing and squeezing it enough to have you whining, “I believe Daemon asked you a question, my love,” he chucked, his other hand pulling down the neckline of your nightgown, nearly ripping the delicate lace, to reveal your breast, “It would be rude not to answer.”

“Gods!” You moan, sucking in a breath when you feel the blond’s lips wrap around your exposed nipple, his teeth teasing at the sensitive, peaked skin, “I-I’m a good girl!” You gasp, your fingers carding through silky hair, the same silvery shade as your own, “Harwin says I-“ You start, only to be brutally cut off as one of Daemon’s large hands wraps around your throat. 

“Harwin may claim what he wishes,” he sneers, nose touching yours as he speaks, “But to me, you’re nothing but a lovely whore.” 

You gasp, having never been called such a thing before. A part of you knows you should be offended, yet you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together at his harsh treatment, knees nearly buckling beneath you. 

Your husband tenses behind you, his kisses freezing on your neck before he lifts his head. Narrowing his eyes at Daemon over your shoulder, he grabs his forearm and pushes his hand off of you, “You are not to speak to her in that manner,” he growls, jaw squared, “Nor handle her so harshly. We discussed this earlier.” 

“Oh, hush,” the prince dismisses, prying his hand from Harwin’s grasp with a tsk, “She’s enjoying it, naughty little thing.” He nods his chin at you, noting the blush on your cheeks and the way your chest is heaving. 

Harwin’s eyes shift to yours, his hand tilting your chin up as he peers at you. Before he can speak, though, the large bells at the top of the Keep begin to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Finally, the hour of the owl had arrived, and with it your true nameday. 

“Well, well,” Daemon drawls, abandoning you and Harwin to perch at the edge of your bed, helping himself go to the pitcher of wine sitting at your bedside, “You know, the girls in Flea Bottom have quite the… interesting nameday tradition.” He smirks, studying you and Harwin with amusement as he takes a sip of wine. 

“What is it?” You ask, pulling your husband behind you as you approach the bed, accepting a glass of wine from Daemon. Beside you, Harwin shakes his head, glaring at the other man.

“We talked about this. I told you that I would be taking the lead–”

“You told me, yes,” Daemon interrupts, giving your husband a pointed look before shifting his gaze back to you, “However, it is her nameday. I believe she should get to decide.”

“Decide what?” You inquire, looking between the two men.

“Who will be giving you your birthday spanks, naughty girl.” The blond smirks, gazing at you appreciatively, “One for each year you’ve graced the realm with your presence.”

You looked back and forth between the two men again, Daemon looking at you as if you were a piece of prey, a prize to be won, and Harwin looking at you concerned, as if you were a precious treasure in need of protection. You deliberate for what feels like a long while in your mind – on one hand, Daemon was new and exciting, but you also knew of his unpredictable nature; on the other hand, Harwin was comfortable and safe to you, but wasn’t the entire point of this endeavor to branch out?

“Can…” you begin hesitantly, looking back and forth between the two men, “Can both of you do it?”

“I think that can be arranged, my sweet girl,” your husband says huskily, excited at the promise of exploring this particular act with you once more, “Why don’t you be a good little girl and kneel on the bed for us, hm? On all fours, as you normally do.”

At that remark, Daemon looks at you with great interest, making your cheeks heat up as Harwin helps you remove your robe, draping it over a nearby chair. He turns around quickly when he hears you gasp, only to see the prince laving his tongue over your nipple again, mouthing at it through the paper thin lace of your nightgown, as one of his hands busies itself with your other breast, palming at it desperately; his other hand visible through the thin material of your gown as his fingers tease at your center, brushing through the slick folds with practiced ease. 

He can’t help but admire you for a short moment, cock hardening at the soft blush that settles across your cheeks, the way your chest heaves as you gasp with pleasure, tits bouncing as you writhe against the other man’s hand. Finally, he comes out of his reverie and strides to where you and Daemon stand, taking his place on the other side of your body. 

He begins toying with you once more, guiding your mouth to his while his hands roam over your curves before one finally settles on your breast, the one unoccupied by Daemon’s tongue. His tongue battles with yours as his palm gently squeezes your breast, fingers teasingly pinching at your nipple, causing him to groan in satisfaction once you start mewling in the way he loves. His other hand joins the prince’s at your core, two of this thick fingers teasing at your opening, “Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, “So wet, my love.” His fingers slide into you with a practiced ease, knowing exactly what you like after having spent nearly a year taking you apart on a practically daily basis. 

They crook up perfectly, rubbing against that spot within you with the perfect pressure and accuracy. If there was one thing Harwin was determined to perfect from the moment you were officially declared his in the eyes of gods and men, it was bringing you pleasure in greater amounts than you’d ever thought possible. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread across his bearded face as the sounds of your whimpers and whines grew more and more desperate, telling him once more that he was successful in his mission. 

Just as your husband's fingers speed up within you, Daemon traces tighter and tighter circles around your eager bud, his mouth growing more insistent on your breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth, sucking it harshly into the warmth of his mouth. 

“Getting close, naughty thing?” the blond asks teasingly, lilac eyes peering up at yours as he continued stimulating you. 

You nod frantically, whining as Harwin begins tracing his lips down your jaw, right to that spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. “Let go, princess,” he husks, the tips of his fingers zeroing in on that small rough patch within you, “Give us your pleasure.”

You can’t help the noise that leaves you, a loud, desperate, whining moan that would leave you horribly embarrassed at any other time, but right now you don’t have the ability to care. The ministrations from the two men, along with the utterance of the one pet name Harwin only dared utter in private, send you tumbling over the edge. You feel your knees buckle, although you aren’t worried about falling, too dumb with pleasure to think but still reassured that two pairs of strong arms will surely hold you steady. 

Fireworks explode behind your eyelids as you feel your center contract around your husbands fingers; the two men groan when they hear the slick sounds pouring out from between your thighs multiply nearly tenfold as your peak takes you, soaking Harwin’s fingers and wetting Daemon’s hand. 

“What a naughty, dirty girl,” the prince teases, fingers only leaving your bud once your legs had started to twitch from the overstimulation, “Peaking over the fingers of two men,” you whimper as your husband carefully removes his fingers from you, face flushing when he immediately takes them into his mouth, licking off the evidence of your arousal, “No better than a common Flea Bottom whore.”

Again, Daemon’s words send a shiver up your spine, the knot that had just come unraveled in your stomach tightening once more. “She is a good girl,” Harwin corrects him, hands lovingly stroking over your body, “For peaking exactly when I commanded her to. Such a good, obedient girl.”

Your head spins at their words, head swimming as one man degrades you, clearly gaining pleasure from the way his teases and rude remarks affect you, while the other praises you so lovingly, proud at way his tender words affect you so after months of perfecting them, learning exactly which phrases drive you to madness and fully exploiting them. 

“Are you ready for your sweet spanks, my good girl?” Harwin asks, brown eyes shining with love.

You nod breathlessly, still leaning on both men for support. Beside you Daemon chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Ask for it properly, naughty girl.”

“Ask us, sweetling.” Harwin nods encouragingly. 

“Please…” you start softly, finally finding your voice, “Please, husband, sir, please may I have my nameday spankings?”

Daemon growls lowly in his chest, satisfied at you finally learning your place and addressing him the way he feels he deserves, “Get on the bed.” He commands easily, leaving no room for backtalk or questioning.

Blessedly, your sweet husband still sees fit to help you arrange yourself on the edge of the bed, taking your shaky legs into account as he helps you move. You’re indeed kneeling on all fours, your legs tucked up under you as your feet dangle off the bed, your ass in the air, though still covered by the lace of your gown.

You feel the air shift behind you as they move, both standing behind you still but Harwin to the left and Daemon to the right. The one of Daemon’s hands strokes down your back, you can feel him leaning over you as he trails his hand down from the very top of your shoulder blades all the way down to the small of your back, right where the curve of your ass starts; you can hear him hum appreciatively. His other hand drags up the back of one of your thighs and slowly, he slips his fingers under the hem of your gown. He pulls it up over your ass, letting the soft, silky fabric pool in the dip of your spine; your walls clench around nothing when you hear both men groan behind you.

“Gods,” Harwin breathes, rough fingers lightly tracing over your skin, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

“Pretty little cunt,” Daemon quips, smirking when he hears you whimper as he spreads your cheeks apart, hands gripping you hard enough that there are sure to be fingerprint sized bruises, “Wetter than the Narrow Sea.” He remarks, chuckling as he runs a thumb over the slit of your heat, marveling at the way your slick remains connected to his thumb by a thin thread for a second as he pulls his hands away. 

“Ready, princess?” Harwin murmurs behind you, hands soothing where Daemon had grabbed you.

“Please!” You nod, hands gripping the furs spread across the bed. 

Suddenly, a hand comes down on the left side of your ass, harsh but not overly painful; you whimper at the impact, walls clenching from the pleasant sting left behind. Harwin. You were sure of it – the two of you had only experimented in this way a scant few times but enough that you knew the feel of his blows. 

Again, a hand comes down, this time making you jerk as a palm strikes the right globe of your rear. A sharp cry leaves your lips, back bowing for a second before the same hand is pressing harshly at the small of your back, “Keep that back arched, naughty little thing.” Daemon hums. 

Harwin gives you a moment to breathe, a gesture you appreciate very much, before striking you once again. Again, you mewl as you feel the welcome heat spread across your skin. You turn your head, burying your face into the soft furs beneath you, only to practically inhale the wolf pelt there as Daemon brings his hand down again, making you gasp. Another cry leaves your lips, louder and harsher than the last as tears pool in the corner of your eyes, some already leaking onto the coat. The right side of your ass practically feels as if it’s on fire, the sting so harsh it makes your ears ring. 

“That’s two,” Daemon taunts, smiling wickedly as he sees an outline of his handprint already blooming on your ass, “So many more left to go.”

Harwin leans over you, brushing the hair from your face, brows furrowing with concern when he sees your tears, “Are you alright, my love?” He asks, smoothing a hand down your back, “Do you wish to stop? We don’t have to continue.” He reassures you, smiling lovingly.

You shake your head, determined to see it through – determined to impress Daemon, really. “N-no,” you say tearfully, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, “I want to, please.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Daemon cuts in, gripping your cheeks harshly once again as he spreads them, tugging them somehow further apart than before as he clicks his tongue, pleased, “You love this,” his hand wetly smacks against your slit, making you whine as Harwin further soothes you, glaring daggers at the prince, “Little cunt’s soaking the bed.”

Your husband knocks his hands away, the ferocity of it making you gasp and peer over your shoulder, “We’ve discussed this,” the brunette hisses through his teeth, knuckles white as he grips Daemon’s wrist, “You will not handle her in such a manner, we agreed on this.”

“Oh, please,” the prince huffs, rolling his lilac eyes as he jerks his arm from Harwin’s grip, “She’s enjoying it, see?” You don’t have any time to react before his palm is once again smacking against your flesh, harder than the previous two hits combined. Your vision swirls, eyes stinging as tears blur your sight, a scream ripping its way from your throat as his hit shoves you further up the bed. You feel as if your entire lower half is radiating with pain, ears ringing once again.

There’s some commotion behind you, though it takes you a few seconds to get your whits about you enough to turn over, grimacing as the tender skin of your rear brushes against the pelts, ones that normally feel so soft now digging into your skin like dozens of little thorns. When you do finally clear your eyes, rubbing the tears away, your mouth practically falls open at the sight before you.

Harwin has Daemon pushed against the wall next to the bed, one of his forearms pinned down across his chest to hold him back; Daemon looks enraged, his teeth bared as he stares down your husband, “Unhand me, Strong.” He growls. 

Harwin presses him down harder, chest heaving with anger, “You dare harm her,” he mutters, his other fist clenched at his side, “We trusted you for this and you harm her!” 

“She fucking liked it!” Daemon retorts, struggling against your husbands strength — although strong in his own right, he had nothing on Harwin, “Go look at her fucking cunt, it’s soaked! She loves being hit!” He positively seethes, nodding his head toward you. 

The brunette sneers, lip curling up in disgust as the other man continues to squirm in his grasp. You watch, worried, as the hand not pinning the prince to the wall shoots up and roughly grips Daemon by his throat, forcing his head back. 

Daemon whimpers.

The world seems to stop in a single breath, the three of you staying quiet and still. Your eyes are wide, not believing the small sound you heard, but there was no mistaking it. Harwin seems just as shocked as you, taking a half step back from Daemon as soon as he hears the noise.

He’s quiet for a second more before a teasing, nearly sinister smile slowly spreads across his face, “She likes being spanked, you say,” he starts, putting more pressure on Daemon’s throat, “And you, your grace, like being choked, don’t you? Nothing more than a common Flea Bottom whore, right?”

You’ve never heard your husband use that tone before, so deep and threatening, it makes your thighs clench, a soft breath escaping your lips. 

The small sound seems to remind both Harwin and Daemon that you’re still there and their heads whip toward you. They remain silent for a moment but then your husband smiles, looking between you and the prince with a mischievous smirk. 

Harwin leads Daemon over to where you sit on the bed until both men are standing in front of you once again, the blond in the front with the brunette behind him, one hand holding his arms behind his back while the other remains wrapped around his neck. There is still a fire in Daemon’s eyes, though it’s merely a simmer now instead of a blazing inferno; you can’t help but be reminded of a tamed animal, of the dragons in the dragonpit — so much wildness choosing to be contained. 

“I think you need to apologize,” Harwin starts, pushing Daemon forward until his legs hit the side of the bed, the two of them towering over you, “For hurting our lady, hm?”

Your breath catches at his choice of words, our lady. You watch as Daemon nods, his eyes half closed, glazed over by some kind of fog, his breathing slow and calm, as if he’s in a trance. 

“Come now,” Harwin shoves him a little, just enough to make him jump, “Answer properly.” 

“Yes….” Daemon whispers, hardly able to get words out around the grip Harwin has on his throat. 

“Yes what?” Your husband asks slowly, words spoken through clenched teeth, his lips right next to the prince’s ear. 

Daemon sighs, his shoulders sagging as any fight that remained in him seemed to vanish, “Yes, ser.” 

“See?” Harwin teases, patronizingly tapping him on the cheek, “You can be good.” You see Daemon shiver at that. 

Leaving Daemon to stand at the side of the bed, your husband bends down and kisses you softly, “You still desire this?”

You nod, looking deeply into his eyes as one of your hands cards through his curly hair, “Yes husband,” you whisper, “More than anything.” 

“Stand.” Harwin commands simply, and you obey, coming to stand beside Daemon. “You,” your husband snaps, motioning at the man standing next to you, “Strip and lie down.” 

Daemon does as he says, with no fuss for once. You can’t help but admire the way he moves as he removes his tunic and pants, his movements still so fluid and graceful despite the haze he seems to be in. After a moment, his clothes lie in a pile on the floor as he takes his place on your bed, laying on his back, half hard cock lying on his stomach, already leaking and flushed. 

“Good.” Harwin praises simply, though you see Daemon’s brows flutter with pleasure. “My love,” he addresses you, giving you a gentle kiss, “Let me?” He asks, gesturing to your nightgown. You nod with a smile, letting him undress you. “Perfection,” he groans once you’re bare before him, dark eyes roaming your body. 

“I want you to do something for me, princess,” he says, leading over to the bed, motioning for you to kneel on your knees next to Daemon. 

“What’s that?” You ask, looking from your husband to the prince. 

Harwin grabs your waist, much gentler than Daemon had ever touched you, and you can’t help but whimper, loving the way he manhandles you into position. Before you know it, he has you hovering over Daemon’s face, your entire body flushing as you realize what he wants. 

“Sit.” He says lowly, letting you drop onto the prince’s waiting mouth. 

“Oh!” You say in surprise, your thighs clenching around Daemon’s head. Immediately, you feel a rumble beneath you, making you whine as you realize he’s groaning with contentment as his tongue meets your aching heat. “Gods!” You gasp, hips moving of their own accord over his lips as your fingers tangle in his pale hair, causing him to groan more underneath you. 

You pant, humping against his face like nothing more than the wanton whore he claimed you to be, mewls and whines escaping your lips constantly as your eyes squeeze shut. 

You hear Harwin shuffling next to the bed and open your eyes, peering over your shoulder and shivering at the sight of your husband undressing, his muscular body on full display for you. Finally undressed, he turns to you, stroking his cock as he stalks toward the bed, eyes scanning over your body. 

“Is he making you feel good, my little love?” 

“Yes, sir!” You pant, nodding frantically. The bed dips under his weight as Harwin kneels on the bed next to you, his free hand coming up to palm at your breasts, thumb teasing over your nipples before he pinches them, humming appreciatively at the way you squirm atop Daemon. 

“Good,” Harwin chuckles, leaning over to mouth at one breast while his hand continues teasing the other, “He must atone for earlier.” He finishes, letting go of his stiff cock to slap at Daemon’s thigh, making the man below you jerk and moan, his hands gripping at your rear tighter as his cock twitches against his abdomen.

You gasp, surprised by both the slap and the way Daemon’s lips seal around your bud in response, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his hot tongue as your hips grind down harder, “Oh, Gods, fuck!” 

Beside you, Harwin stands on the bed, bending to kiss the top of your head, chuckling at the way you cling to him for support. “Shh, little sweetling,” he soothes, standing up straight, the sight of his cock making your mouth water as he fists it in front of your lips, “I have something you can occupy yourself with.” He teases, moving closer to you. 

Smiling up at him, you softly lick the tip, pride swelling in your stomach at how much the slit is already leaking. You wrap your lips around the head, suckling softly as one of your hands untangles itself from Daemon’s hair to stroke the rest of Harwin’s length. You mewl around him as the prince continues feasting on your slit, plunging his tongue inside of you, deep groans vibrating through you every time he feels your walls clench around the muscle as he fucks it into you. 

Slowly but surely, you take more of your husband into your mouth, eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat. He groans above you, half lidded eyes keeping contact with yours as he gently strokes his hands through your hair. 

“Such a lovely, precious girl,” he grunts, his eyes nearly black but still shining with adoration, “Gods, princess, you’re perfect like this.” 

Your husband’s sweet praise pushes you closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight as you rut against Daemon’s mouth, his tongue zeroing in your bud as he feels you moving more and more determinedly against him, his eyes rolling back in his head at the way you taste. 

“Are you getting close, sweet girl?” Harwin asks, gently fucking his hips into your mouth. 

You nod around his length, eyebrows furrowing together as you stare up at him pleadingly. Blessedly, your sweet husband can never bear to make you wait very long. 

“Find your peak, my love,” Harwin huffs as he strokes his length, “Cover him with it.” 

As always, you do as he commands. The knot in your belly finally snaps once more and you moan above Daemon, practically crying at the way each wave of your orgasm crashes over you, sending shivers down your spine. The prince slurps noisily below you, savoring your release as his cock twitches, leaking heavily onto his stomach. 

“Ah!” You cry, hips twitching as Daemon’s tongue persists against you, only stopping when you lift yourself off of him and settle back onto his chest, “Seven Hells.” You breathe, your wet slit pressed tightly against the center of Daemon’s chest. 

Harwin once again kneels on the bed and you peer over your shoulder, eyes widening as you see him swipe a finger through the pool of of arousal leaking from the flushed head of the prince’s cock, where it rests against his stomach, bringing it to your lips for you to suck off, which makes the man below you groan. 

“Seems he wants something,” Harwin teases, “Shall we let him have it?”

“Please, sir,” you whine, nodding pathetically at the chance to finally sink onto Daemon’s cock, “Let him, please!”

“Aww, sweet thing,” Harwin coos, tenderly caressing your cheek, “Thank you, although you are not who I wish to hear from.” 

At that, you can feel Daemon squirm beneath you, a determined set to his eyes, “Forget it.” He shakes his head, hands tracing over your curves. 

“Really?” Harwin asks, reaching behind you and grabbing Daemon’s aching length, stroking him slowly, making the prince’s body go rigid as he practically whines beneath you, “You don’t want to feel our lady’s sweet little cunt on your cock?” 

“Seven—“ Daemon chokes, hands gripping your waist enough to bruise. You can’t help but ruck your hips against him, your bud dragging deliciously against the barely there hair on his chest, “Fuck you, Strong.” He grunts, legs twitching as Harwin meanly squeezes at his length. 

“I don’t think it’s me you want to fuck,” your husband taunts, shaking his head, “I know you want it, know you want to have your way with my little wife,” you can tell when Harwin begins stroking Daemon’s length again as the man underneath you tenses, his muscles pulling taut, “Simply ask nicely and you may have her.” 

You watch Daemon for a moment, studying the pained look on his face, his jaw still clenched and determined. You know he won’t do as your husband commands, still too proud no matter how true Harwin’s taunts are. So, you take pity on him, unable to reign in your own desire either. Bracing your hands on his chest, you move yourself back along the length of his torso, coming to hover over his stomach just above where your husband continues teasing at his length. 

Leaning down, you gently kiss along Daemon’s jaw until your lips are positioned just under his ear, “Tell him what he wants to hear,” you implore, your breath tickling his pale skin, “I want it as badly as you, please my prince, please just do as he asks.” You beg, rutting your hips against his firm stomach. 

Daemon opens his eyes finally, dark with desire as he looks at you, watching as you nod encouragingly, your own brows set in a pleading furrow. Again, the prince sighs, his body deflating, “Please,” he starts, his voice barely a whisper at first, growing louder once you dip your head down and begin teasing his neck, “Please let me fuck her, let me please her.” 

“Let you fuck who?” Harwin teases, finally releasing Daemon’s cock. 

“Please, let me fuck your pretty wife,” Daemon sighs, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, making you gasp and rut your hips against his stomach again, “Please, ser.” 

“That wasn’t so difficult, hm?” Your husband chuckles, making himself comfortable at the head of the bed, his back against the plush pillows. He fixes you in his dark gaze, muscular arms folded over his chest, “Ride him. Tame our dragon, sweetling.” 

Our dragon. Again, his words make you shiver and you nod wordlessly, sliding further down Daemon’s lithe body before your center, dripping and aching, is finally positioned over his length. Once more, you look down at the prince’s face, his silvery hair spread in a halo around his head; he’s breathing harshly, his cock twitching against your center as he gazes at you, the animalistic lust in his eyes replaced with a glimmer that makes your heart twist — you’ve seen the same one in Harwin’s dark eyes time and time again. 

Before you have time to dwell on it, Daemon’s hands grip your hips, pushing you down slowly. Both of you groan, his length stretching you deliciously. You brace your hands on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your hips sink lower and lower, cursing as he’s finally pressed inside you completely, his cock filling every inch of you as your walls pulse around him. 

“Fuck,” Daemon grunts, his hands gripping at your waist and hips as his eyes roll back, “Tight little cunt, so good.” His hands suddenly grip your ass, making you whimper and grind yourself against him at the feel of his rough hands against your still tender skin. 

You can’t help the moans and whimpers that escape your lips as you begin rocking in Daemon’s lap, angling your hips in a way that causes his head to brush against that spot deep within you, the one that makes your head spin. “Gods, shit!” You can’t help but gasp at the way he feels inside you, his cock stretching you nicely — not as wide as Harwin’s but just a hair longer, filling you to the brim. 

“Does he feel good, my love?” Your husband asks, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. You nod as you meet his eyes, the brown almost totally taken over by blackness as he relaxes against the pillows, eyes sweeping up and down your body as he watches you grind yourself atop the prince, “How does she feel, your grace?” He addresses Daemon. 

The man below you groans, the wild look returning to his eyes as you start bouncing more frantically, “Fucking perfect,” he grunts, wrapping an arm around the small of your back and pulling you down to him, your chests pressing together, “Perfect, wet, fuck, wet little cunt.” He groans into your neck, hands gripping at your ass again. 

You whine at the feel of his lips and teeth on your neck, your hands tangling in his hair. You whimper when you feel him bend his legs behind you, his thighs pressing against your bum; your whimpers turn to sharp cries as he begins thrusting up into you, spearing you down onto his cock over and over, the head nearly kissing your cervix as he does. 

Your cries rise in volume the closer you get, your thighs tensed against his movements as the knot in your stomach tightens, your walls clutching at his length. You gasp as one of his hands comes up, abandoning your ass to wrap lightly around your throat, only holding it instead of squeezing. His movements make your bud rub against the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock, sending sparks throughout your body.

“Ooh, she’s getting close,” Harwin observes, lightly tugging at his length as he watches you come undone atop Daemon, “Don’t you want her to soak your cock?”

“Gods,” Daemon groans, feeling the way your walls keep getting somehow tighter around his cock. He pants as he moves his hips faster, punching his length into you relentlessly, savoring the way you gasp and moan into his mouth, “Yes, yes want it.” He groans brokenly, spiraling toward his own release as well. 

“Aren’t you going to ask my permission?” Harwin teases, smirk spreading across his face at the frustrated groan that leaves Daemon. “You need my permission to make her peak,” your husband says, his gravelly tone making you shiver as you lose yourself, “Beg for it.” 

This time, thankfully, Daemon does not protest, both of you too desperate. “Fucking hell,” he hisses, a light sheen of sweat on his brow, “Please, fuck, please I need to make her peak, please!” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own, staring deeply into your eyes as he grabs at any flesh of yours he can reach. 

“Very good,” you do not miss the way Daemon shivers at Harwin’s praises, “Make her come undone.” Your husband commands. 

At this, one of Daemon’s hands buries itself between your two bodies, fingers frantically seeking out your bud and rubbing tight, wet circles into the sensitive flesh. Within seconds, you unravel, light bursting behind your eyelids as you cry out, fire igniting in your veins. Your walls pulse around Daemon’s cock as you cry out, your whole body shaking as your release flows over you in waves. 

Even through the blinding pleasure you can tell Daemon is teetering on the edge, savoring your orgasm before he allows himself his own. Harwin can tell too and his smirk grows, a devious idea coming to mind, “You cannot finish inside her,” he growls, shaking his head at Daemon, “That is mine and mine alone.”

The prince curses, his eyes squeeze shut as he manages to lift you up, pushing you back to sit atop his thighs as one of his hands comes up to strip at his cock a scant few times before a low, rumbling growl settles in his chest. A second later, he jerks suddenly, abdomen contracting as he finishes over his fist, pearly cum dripping onto his stomach, some of it shooting onto your chest and torso as well, making you gasp. 

The two of you breathe heavily as you collapse forward onto his chest, your tired muscles unable to hold you up; you whimper softly at the feel of his seed on your stomach, one of his hands stroking over your hair. “Thank you.” You sigh. 

He laughs, kissing the top of your head, “You need not thank me, princess,” he says tiredly, his choice of pet name making your heart skip a beat, “The pleasure was mine.” 

You feel the bed shift beside you before a pair of lips descend upon your back, kissing up to your shoulder. Your husband pushes your hair back and you smile up at him shyly. “You are truly perfection, my little love,” he smiles, “Has our dragon tired you out?” 

You shake your head, reaching out for Harwin, “I want you,” you breathe, letting him flip you onto your back until you’re lying next to Daemon, “Please, take me, my love.” You beg, grabbing onto every part of Harwin you can as he positions himself between your legs. 

“Fuck her,” Daemon says suddenly, his eyes scanning over Harwin, “I wish to see her break.” 

You shudder at his words, your core clenching at nothing, making you whine. Harwin shushes you lovingly, running his length through the slick still dripping from your center. “Shh, I will give you what you want, sweet one,” he says as he pushes his head into you, already deliciously stretching you, “As I always do, always will.” He grunts, sinking into you. 

Your eyes flutter, his cock still stretching your walls, causing your center to ache beautifully, your back arching on the furs. “Gods,” you breathe, moaning as Harwin bends down to lick into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thick shoulders, “You feel so good inside me.”

He chuckles into your mouth before leaning back up, brown eyes gazing down at you adoringly, watching your chest bounce with every frantic breath you take as his hips finally press against yours. Groaning, he grabs at the backs of your knees, your legs bending as he pins them back, nearly folding you in half. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, rutting into you as you squirm beneath him, “I swear to the Seven you feel better every time.” He praises, looking down at where his cock disappears into you, marveling at the way your cunt shines in the light of the many candles placed around your chambers. 

The two of you move together for many moments, slick sounds from your center making you blush as you lose yourself in Harwin’s strong thrusts. He knows exactly how to unwind you after this much time together, and he wastes no time in doing so, a proud smile on his face as he feels your muscles tensing underneath him. 

“Close already, pretty girl?” He asks, his curls tumbling wildly as he moves. You nod, words catching in your throat as you clench around his thick cock. 

Beside you, Daemon, who has been watching with dark eyes all the while, slowly strokes his length, his other hand resting on your throat once more, his own breath growing more ragged each minute. 

Harwin’s gaze shifts to him, his thrusts speeding up as he looks over the prince’s lean figure, “Up,” he commands, motioning for Daemon to stand next to him, “Watch as I claim her, see her in the way I do.” 

Again, Daemon listens without a fight, rising from his place next to you as he comes to stand at the side of the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Harwin as he continues pumping at his cock, breathing heavily as he stares at the place where you and your husband connect. 

Harwin bends down suddenly, the motion pulling his length from you and causing you to whine — though that quickly turns to a sharp gasp when you feel his tongue lick at your stomach. Tilting your head up, you look down in just enough time to see his tongue sweep through the pool of Daemon’s seed, still splattered on you. “Oh!” You exclaim, surprised as you watch your husband gather the other man’s spend on his tongue. 

Leaning up, Harwin once again spears you on length before hovering his face over yours, his eyes searching your gaze. Knowing what he wants, you open your mouth, smiling through moans at the familiar sight of him gathering spit in his mouth. A second later, he is leaning down again, his lips  nearly connecting with yours as he spits into your waiting mouth, sharing Daemon’s seed with you. 

Your eyes roll back as you swallow, savoring the unfamiliar, heady taste of the prince as your cunt flutters. Above you, Daemon lets out a groan so loud he almost sounds as if he’s in pain. 

“Good girl,” Harwin praises, smoothing a hand through your hair as he resumes his harsh thrusts, his other hand bracing itself against your lower stomach, thumb toying with your bud, “My good girl.” 

“Seven Hells.” Daemon groans, fisting his cock harder and faster as he nears his own release. 

“I’m close, my love,” Harwin pants, his thumb pressing against your bud harder, making your hips twitch under him, “With me?” He asks, half lidded eyes watching your own. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You moan in time with each of his thrusts, nodding your head wildly as you thrash within his grasp, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. 

“Watch as I claim her,” he commands Daemon, tangling a hand into his silvery hair, pointing his gaze exactly where he wants it — where the two of you connect, “Watch as I breed our princess.” 

His words send you over the edge, your walls milking his length as you feel the heat of the two men’s gazes fixed on your cunt. You gasp as your peak washes over you once more, the strongest of the night, causing your entire body to spasm uncontrollably in Harwin’s strong grasp. 

Above you, Harwin grunts as his cock spasms within you, painting your walls with his seed. As he tips over the edge, he turns his head to Daemon, pulling the dragon to him, their mouths crashing together. Hearing their twin groans, you manage to open your eyes, the sight before you nearly making you peak again. Their lips battling for dominance, neither relenting as their tongues tangle together, grunts and growls filling each other's mouths. 

Daemon finishes at nearly the same second your husband does, his seed splattering onto the furs beside you as his chest heaves. 

Harwin comes to a stop within you, his hand softening in Daemon’s hair though he does not pull away. You watch them kiss for a moment more, surprised at the heat building within you at the sight. Your walls clench around your husband's spent cock, making him jump and finally pull away from the other man, facing you with a knowing smile as you blush, your eyes flitting between four others. 

“Vaogenka riña,” Daemon drawls, his hands grasping one of your legs, massaging the muscle of your calf as your foot rests delicately on the center of his chest, “Taking pleasure from watching your husband with another.” (Dirty girl.)

“Watching him with you.” You clarify with a grin. 

Happily groaning, Harwin withdraws his length from you, shushing you as you whine. You feel your husband's seed dripping from you a moment later and both men hum appreciatively at the sight. 

“Shall I draw us a bath, sweetling?” Harwin asks, brushing sweat from your forehead, “I know you do not like to go to sleep so dirty, though if you are too spent…” 

You shake your head, giggling as both men help you stand on shaky legs, “I would gladly take a bath, husband,” you look between the two of them before your gaze settles on Daemon, “With both of you?” 

Daemon kisses you, much sweeter than he had before, “Hen rhinka, dārilaros.” He smiles, picking you up by the backs of your legs, making you squeal with laughter as he carries you over to the tub, sitting on the edge with you on his lap as Harwin prepares the bath, just the way you like. (Of course, princess.)

A few moments, and kisses, later your husband confirms it’s ready. He steps into the bath first with a curse, “I do not know how you find pleasure in this heat,” he jokes, gritting his teeth as his skin grows accustomed to the hot water, “Caraxes may as well be burning me where I stand.” 

Daemon laughs at that, the two men helping you into the bath, settling you against Harwin, a position you’d taken many times before. You sigh gratefully as the water warms your tired skin, the sweet smelling oils relaxing you, “Hush,” you chuckle, watching as the prince lowers himself into the water as well, on the opposite end of the large tub, “It feels perfect.” 

Daemon sighs in agreement, long arms resting on the lip of the tub as he tilts his head back, the steam making silvery strands of his hair cling to his shoulders and chest. “Perfection indeed.” He says contentedly, making Harwin’s chest shake with laughter against your back. 

Your eyes droop closed after a moment, Daemon massaging your feet and legs as Harwin busies himself with washing your shoulders, neck, and chest.

A gentle breeze billows through the sheer curtains of your chambers, the cool air feeling delicious on your heated skin, the smell of Aemma’s sweet blossoms in the palace gardens making your lips quirk up into a tired smile. 

“Sleep, princess.” Harwin commands gently, whispering against your neck. 

“Ēdrugon.” Daemon echos. (Sleep.)

You obey.

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[luxsky]

Kicking out

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.

Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).

It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?

Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.

It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.

Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.

Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.

Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.

You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."

You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."

You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."

He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.

I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.

"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.

Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.

The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.

His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."

''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."

That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.

He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.

"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.

Splash.

"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.

"I think my water just broke."

Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.

And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.

[angegiarratanawriter]

Unplanned Part 2

Warnings: Smut, GP!Character, Pregnancy

Word Count: 10686

Summary: A weekend away at VidCon leaves you and Angela the perfect opportunity to announce your relationship and pregnancy

Author's Note: Sorry this didn't go up sooner, I got stuck on the other thing that I was writing, and I wanted to have that done before I posted this.

In the few months that have passed since you and Angela confessed your feelings and got on the same page about your pregnancy, so much has changed. The first major thing that is different is getting to call the other mother of your baby your girlfriend. You had wanted to make things official the night you made up, but she had insisted on taking you out on a proper date first. Over all, you’re very glad that you waited, because she made the whole night so incredibly romantic before asking you to be hers with a bouquet of roses.

The second major thing that has changed is that both of you have stopped taking on side projects, deciding to pour all of your focus into Smosh and the baby. You’ve canceled a few of your upcoming comedy shows, and Angela has decided not to audition for Starkid’s latest production, as it would be on stage very close to your due date. At first, you had been hesitant about her making such a big sacrifice, but she had convinced you by promising to return to stage acting after the baby is born.

Your body is third and final on the list of major things that have changed. Of course, you knew it would happen, but it’s been getting harder and harder to hide the baby bump that is slowly but surely starting to form. It’s growth has you relegated to baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirts, a far cry from your usual wardrobe. The castmates who don’t yet know about your pregnancy are starting to get curious about your sudden change in style, and at this point, you are sure that one of them is going to guess what’s up any day now.

At least the announcement is just two days away at this point, with the plan set for the second day of VidCon. The “Am I The Asshole” post is already submitted, and Ian, who has been let into your circle of trust, has ensured that it’ll make the final list of posts that will be read during the panel part of the convention. Now all that you have to do is make it through the next forty eight hours, which shouldn’t be too hard with your busy schedule leaving you little time to worry.

“Are you ready for this?” Angela asks, putting the car in park.

“Yes,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt but making no move to get out of the car. “I can’t wait for this to finally be out in the open. Our friends have been so suspicious.”

“I know. Courtney has been looking at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle for two weeks now.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. I feel so bad that we haven’t told them. They’re our friends.”

“And they’ll understand,” Angela says, reaching over to take your hand. “Besides, they’re gonna love the surprise.”

“I hope so.”

“They will.”

“I love you,” you say, sighing softly.

“I love you, too. Come on. Just two more days, and we won’t have to hide anything anymore.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Angela says softly. “Now, are you ready to head inside?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Turning in your seat, you reach into the back seat and grab your backpack before opening the door and climbing out of the car. As you head around to the back, you see that Angela already has all of your bags out. You grab your suitcase as she shuts the trunk, then you both head off towards the hotel entrance. After stopping at the concierge to check in and get your keys, you take the elevator up to your floor and head down the hall to your room.

Angela scans the card against the reader and then opens the door, letting you in first. As you walk in, you glance around, taking in the little kitchenette and living area that are laid out in front of you. Off to the right, you see an open set of double doors, so you head through them to find the bedroom, which has one king sized bed instead of the two doubles that you had been expecting.

“How did you swing this with HR?” you ask, looking back as Angela walks in.

“I didn’t,” your girlfriend replies. “Must have been Ian.”

“Well, thank you, boss.”

“Yeah. So, we have an hour until dinner. Wanna unpack then put on Forensic Files and cuddle?”

“Do we have to unpack?” you ask, pouting.

“Yes, baby. We aren’t going to want to do it later.”

“Fine, you make a good point. Let’s go. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I get to be in your arms.”

It takes no more than ten minutes for you to empty your suitcase into both the dresser and the closet, and as soon as you finish, you find yourself climbing into bed. Angela joins you a few minutes later, and you put the TV on, flipping through the guide to find your go to show. Once it’s on, you put the remote on the side table and curl up into your girlfriend. You are just starting to doze off when the clock strikes 6:45, and you groan when you realize it’s time for dinner.

“Do we have to go?” you ask, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“We really should,” Angela replies, stoking your back tenderly. “It’ll be suspicious if we both don’t show up, and I don’t wanna leave you in here alone.”

“Fine.”

Groaning, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, then slowly stand up, making sure not to go too fast. Ever since the end of your first trimester, your blood pressure has been a little low, leading to headrushes if you’re too fast in standing up. Once you’re sure your vision isn’t going to suddenly black out, you slip on your shoes and head to the hotel room door with your girlfriend.

The walk down to the hotel restaurant doesn’t take long, and soon you find yourself scanning the dining room for your castmates. You find them at a long table near the back, so you go and join them, taking the free seat next to Shayne while Angela scoots in next to you. Ian is going over the schedule for the weekend with everyone who’s there, so you tune in to find out if there’s anything important that wasn’t covered in the email.

“We’ve got photos tomorrow at 10:00, then autos at 1:00. We break for dinner at 4:00, then we have to head over to RISE for karaoke.”

“Is everyone going to that?” Trevor asks.

“Everyone has the option to, but I don’t know how big the venue is, so it might be better if some of us don’t. We’re only required to have six of the main cast attend, so it’s not a big deal a few people skip out.”

“I think I might pass,” Keith says.

“Same,” Noah adds. “I’m not much of a singer.”

“Do you want to skip it?” Angela asks quietly, leaning into your ear so that no one overhears. “You know Chanse and Amanda are gonna go, Shayne is wherever Court is, and Ian and Anthony kind of have to, so we can stay in if you want.”

“Nah, I think it’ll be fun to go,” you whisper back. “We’ll just have to come up with an excuse for me not drinking.”

“We can just say we’re doing a dry month challenge if anybody asks. It’s not like people with think anything of it.”

“You don’t have to not drink just because I can’t.”

“Babe, if you’re sober, I’m sober,” Angela says softly. “It’s that simple.”

“Fuck, I really wanna kiss you,” you murmur.

“Later. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Okay, so Keith, Noah, Trevor, Damien, and Olivia are out,” you hear Ian say as you tune back into the conversation at the table. “Is everyone else in? Y/N? Ange?”

“I’m in,” you reply easily.

“Same,” Angela adds. “It sounds like it’ll be a good time, so.”

“Cool,” Ian says. “So that means we’ll have eleven people there, plus whatever crew members decide they want to join.”

“Perfect,” Anthony replies. “After that, the only event we’ll have left is the panel on Sunday morning.”

“What time does that start?” Courtney asks.

“11:00, but they want us down there for prep at 10:15.”

“And we’ll be sending out reminders in the group chat for everybody as well,” Ian says. “That way we’re all on the same page.”

With the schedule for the next few days reviewed, Anthony calls the waiter over to the table so that everyone can get drinks. It only takes a few minutes for them to arrive, and then they’re putting in food orders and getting back into casual conversation. You end up being practically interrogated by Courtney, who asks you in a million different ways if you’re feeling okay, but you manage to dodge saying anything to incriminating.

After about twenty minutes of sidestepping questions from your castmate, the food arrives and you’re finally granted a reprieve. You end up inhaling your mac and cheese in less than five minutes, and with plenty of room left, you decide to order dessert. The chocolate cake you end up getting is delicious, but you can’t finish it, so you offer your girlfriend the last couple of bites.

Once you are finished and Anthony takes care of the bill with the company credit card, everyone starts to split off in their own directions. A couple of your castmates are end up deciding to head to a bar down the street, but you and Angela decide to just head back up to your room and pack it in for the night. It doesn’t take long for you both to get ready for bed, and soon enough you’re cuddled up under the blankets, falling asleep to another episode of Forensic Files.

—

Being woken up by a blaring alarm at 8:30 the next morning is hard. You’ve been requiring more sleep lately, and even though you went to bed early last night, it seems as though your body has decided that you didn’t get enough rest. Groaning, you reach over to the side table and smack at your phone blindly, letting out a sigh of relief when the jarring beeping that woke you up cuts off.

“Please tell me that isn’t our breakfast alarm,” Angela says, her voice husky with sleep.

“Afraid so,” you reply, rolling over to look at your girlfriend. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but I feel like I could easily go back. You?”

“Same,” Angela replies. “It’s like no matter how much sleep I get lately, I could always use more.”

“Maybe you’re having sympathy exhaustion,” you joke.

“Maybe. But as much as I want to go back to bed, we really should get up and start getting ready. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Sighing, you climb slowly out of bed and head over to the dresser, trying to figure out what you’re going to wear today. After a couple of minutes spent in debate, you decide on a pair of low rise jeans and a patterned collared shirt that you’d stolen out of Angela’s closet. You grab a matching bra and panty set as well, then head off into the bathroom to get a jumpstart on getting ready.

After deciding that it’s probably a bad idea for you and Angela to shower together, you get first crack at the hot water. It barely takes you five minutes to wash up, and then you’re toweling off as Angela takes her turn. Not wanting to get dressed all the way yet, you settle for putting your bra and panties on before getting to work. You spend the next ten minutes doing your hair, and then you climb up on the counter to do your makeup.

As you start to apply your eye liner, you hear the shower turn off and the curtain get pulled open. You adjust your glance so that you can see over your shoulder in the mirror, and swallow hard when you see Angela step out with nothing on. Your eyes stay completely focused on her as she grabs a clean towel and starts drying off. As she finishes, she looks up and catches your eye in the mirror.

Before you can say anything, Angela shoots you a smirk and a wink, an action that she knows you’re weak for. A jolt of arousal hits you straight in the core, and you suddenly find yourself wishing that you didn’t have to go to breakfast. Unfortunately though, you do, so you finish putting on your eyeliner and then climb off the counter to finish getting dressed.

Once you and Angela are finished getting ready, you head down to the hotel lobby where everyone is meeting. Since you’re having breakfast at the convention center this morning, Ian had decided that it would be best to walk there together, that way no one has to figure out how to get there by themselves. As it turns out, you and Angela are the last ones to arrive, so everyone heads out as soon as you get there.

The walk to the convention center takes five minutes, and from there you find yourself in a large meeting hall with a bunch of tables and a buffet set up. A bunch of other creators are there mingling, but you decide to stick close to your friends for now, not really feeling up to tapping into your social energy yet. Instead, you and Angela find a table and put down your bags, then head up to the buffet.

After grabbing what feels like a mountain of food, you head back to your seats to find Amanda and Chanse already digging in. You gladly join them, spending the next hour and a half alternating between shoveling food into your mouth and talking shit with your friends. About halfway through the meal, MacDoesIt joins you, and the laughs get even louder. Time ends up flying, and before you know it, Smosh’s handler is calling for everyone to head out.

With photos being the first thing on the agenda today, it’s no surprise when you end up in a room that has been converted into a studio. As you walk in, the handler ushers everyone onto the main stage, where you begin posing for some cast only pictures. The photographers get a couple of different shots, then when they’re done, fans begin to get ushered in and you start taking photos with them.

After an hour and a half of standing in the same place and posing for the exact same picture a hundred times, you find yourself getting impatient and irritated. You’re trying not to let it show on your face, but you know that as time has gone on, your smile has gotten faker and faker. Just as you’re about to ask the handler for a break, they make an announcement over the intercom for last call.

Three photos later, and you’re being hustled back to where you had breakfast, only now there are trays of sandwiches and bowls of salad placed out for everyone. Still kind of full from breakfast, you and Angela decide to grab a chicken caesar wrap to split, then head back to the table you sat at this morning. This time, Shayne and Courtney join you, and you end up talking about the plans for karaoke tonight.

Before you know it, it’s time for the autograph session, and you again find yourself being herded into a large ballroom with the rest of your castmates. As soon as you walk inside, a cheer erupts from the group of waiting fans. A smile tugs at your lips as you look around, taking everything in as you are led to a long table at the back of the room.

When you reach your seat, you sit down, looking briefly over your shoulder to nod at the security guard behind you before turning you attention back to the scene in front of you. A woman who clearly is working the convention come around, placing down stacks of headshots in front of people before heading over to the handler and whispering something in their ear. Just a minute later, lines start forming in front of the tables and everything is off to the races.

Signing autographs turns out to be more exhausting than taking photos was. Your hand ends up starting to cramp ten minutes in, and you run out of anything original to say after the first five fans. Luckily they don’t seem to mind, and are just excited to get to meet everyone, which you really appreciate. It takes some of the pressure off of the interactions, and you end up loosening up as time goes on.

After the first hour of signing, the crowd starts to thin out, with only a few stragglers lining up here and there. Honestly, you’re grateful for the break and end up taking the opportunity to catch up with Chanse. Amanda and Angela join you after a little bit, and you end up getting to chat for a solid forty five minutes with minimal interruptions before the crowd picks up again.

As you start slowly but surely making your way through your line again, you catch a whiff of something that immediately makes your stomach turn. You try your best to ignore it, but the more autographs you sign, the worse it gets. As the last girl in your line comes up to your table, a powerful wave of the scent hits you smack in the face. You sign the Smosh calender she hands you as quickly as possible, then get up to see if there’s anywhere you can take a breather.

“Where is the bathroom?” you ask the security guard behind you, trying your best to keep the nausea at bay.

“I can take you,” he says politely. “Follow me.”

The guard leads you along the back wall and then out a side door, before turning right and starting down the corridor. As soon as you see the sign for the bathrooms, you practically run down the hallway, not waiting for your escort. You rip the door open and slam it shut behind you, immediately head for the toilet and spilling your guts. In the head rush that always comes with throwing up, you thank God that this happens to be a single person bathroom.

After sitting beside the toilet for a minute to catch your breath, and to make sure that nothing else is going to come up, you get up and head over to the sink to rinse your mouth and wash your face. As you’re drying yourself off, you hear the sound of raised voices coming from outside the bathroom. Frowning, you throw away the paper towels, then open the door to step outside. You immediately see Chanse squared up with the security guard, his face red with anger.

“The bathroom is occupied,” the guard explains calmly.

“I know, my friend is in there!” Chanse says exasperatedly. “I need to check on-” He cuts himself off when he sees that you’ve opened the door. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine now, I’ll explain in here,” you reply, smiling softly at his concern before turning your attention to the guard. “Is it alright if he comes in here with me? I need his help with something.” The security guard looks at you skeptically, and you roll your eyes. “We’re both gay, it’s not like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Fine,” the man says, his cheeks tinting pink. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

“Thank you.”

You open the door wider, and Chanse slips inside. As soon as he’s clear, you push it closed again and lock it before letting out a deep sigh of relief. When you turn around, you see your best friend looking you up and down with an edge of concern in his eyes, clearly not convinced that you actually are alright.

“Chanse, I’m good, I swear,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his arm in reassurance. “I caught a whiff of something that one of the fans was wearing, I don’t know if it was perfume or what, but it made me nauseous. I didn’t wanna puke at the table, hence me running away to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure it was just the perfume?” Chanse asks anxiously. “You haven’t had morning sickness in a while, maybe we should call your doctor just to be sure?”

“I’m fine, Chanse. Really. But thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Always. Even if I have to fight a buff security guard.”

“That’s why you’re going to make an amazing Godfather,” you says with a teary chuckle.

“Me?” Chanse says, his jaw going slack in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course. There’s nobody Ange and I trust more.”

“Okay, I love this and I love you, but I have to pack it away right now so I don’t end up crying in front of our fans.” He reaches up and brushes the tears from the corners of his eyes before refocusing. “Is there anything you need? I mean, you threw up, so I assume you wanna brush your teeth.”

“Yes, please. And I’d love to get this damn smell out of my nose. Do you mind running out and grabbing my bag for me? And Angela, if she’s free?”

“Of course.”

Chanse opens the door and walks out, shooting a glare at the security guard as he passes him. You roll your eyes as you step out of the bathroom, watching him head back the towards the ballroom. The clearing of a throat next to you grabs your attention, and you look over to see the security guard looking at you expectantly.

“Are you ready to head back, Miss?”

“He’s actually coming back, he’s just grabbing something for me,” you reply. “Lady problems, you know how it is.”

“Of course,” the guard says, clearing his throat awkwardly.

It only takes a few minutes for Chanse to return, this time with your backpack slung over your shoulder and Angela at his side. As soon as they reach you, you usher them into the bathroom, then shut the door and lock it behind you. Sighing in relief, you turn around only to find yourself being wrapped up in a gentle but firm hug by your girlfriend.

“Chanse told me you were sick,” Angela murmurs into your neck. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” you say, moving your hand up to scratch your girlfriend’s scalp soothingly. “Just a little nausea, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good. What do you need?”

“Well first I need to brush my teeth.”

Nodding, Angela turns around and grabs the bag that Chanse is already holding out for her. She goes into the front pocket and grabs your toothbrush and toothpaste, then hands them to you. You take them gratefully, then turn towards the sink and get to work. After a thorough brush, you put your stuff away and put your backpack on the ground, before taking a few steps towards your girlfriend and wrapping her in a hug.

“What’s this for?” Angela asks, surprised.

“I love you,” you murmur, burying your face in her neck and breathing in. “And I can’t get the smell of that perfume out of my nose, and you smell good.”

“That’s gay,” Chanse says, reminding you that he’s here.

“Shut up, so are you,” Angela retorts.

“Touché.”

“Ugh,” you groan, rolling your eyes at your friend’s antics before taking one last deep breath. “As much as I’d love to stay here for the rest of the day, we really should head back.”

“We should,” Angela says as she detangles herself from you. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.”

“Good,” Chanse says, unlocking and opening the door. “Let’s get back, then.”

“Everything all good?” the security guard asks as the three of you exit the bathroom.

“Yep, all good!” you say. “Thank you.”

“Excellent,” he replies, then turns and starts the walk back to the ballroom. “If you’ll follow me.”

“How many queers does it take to put in a tampon,” Chanse says under his breath as you guys start walking.

Both you and Angela burst out laughing, earning an over the shoulder glance from the security guard. He looks so confused that you end up laughing harder, which makes Chanse start laughing, and soon you’re all in hysterics. By the time you get back to the door that leads into the ballroom, you all have tears streaming down your faces. You take a minute to compose yourselves, then you head back in for the last half an hour of signing autographs.

After what feels like five seconds, the handler is announcing last call, and then you are being led out of the ballroom. You end up back in the buffet room for the third time today, but this time you just regroup with everyone before heading out of the convention center and down the street to the restaurant that Ian made reservations for the cast at. It looks a bit sketchy on the outside, but as soon as you make your way in, you realize that it’s actually pretty upscale.

Dinner turns out to be a pretty calm affair, with most people drained from the social activity of the day and conserving what little they have left for karaoke. That is more than fine by you, because honestly you could really use a nap right about now. As dessert starts to come around, the cast members that are going to the event later start discussing what to do in the hour and a half before you have to be at the venue.

“I mean, we could go back to the hotel?” Spencer suggests, looking hopeful.

“Or we could hit up the bar early,” Courtney counters. “If I go back to the hotel, I’m not going back out.”

“Same,” Tommy says. “As soon as I sit down on my bed, I’m done for.”

“Well, we could always split up?” Shayne suggests.

“Honestly, it’s probably better to stick together,” Spencer says. “I’m fine with heading over to the bar early. Everyone else cool with that?”

As most of the cast nods in agreement, you look over at Angela, silently trying to communicate that you would really like to go back to the hotel to get some rest. She nods in understanding, then looks down to the other end of the table to try to catch Ian’s attention. When she does, she subtly nods at you, and he looks confused for a minute before he finally gets what she’s saying and he nods back.

“I actually have a few things that I need to get done for tomorrow, and I need Y/N and Angela for that,” Ian says. “How about you guys go ahead, and the three of us will meet you there at 6:45.”

“Sure,” Anthony says, looking a little confused but accepting the change in plans easily. “I can take care of the check if you wanna go get a head start.”

“Yeah, that’s actually a great idea.”

“Cool. So we’ll see you there at 6:45. I’ll text you at 6:30 to remind you that you need to get going.”

“Perfect,” Ian says thankfully before turning his attention to you and Angela. “You guys ready to head out?”

You and Angela both nod, then stand up to follow your boss out of the restaurant. The street is crowded outside, so you move quickly through the people standing around, hoping not to be recognized. In the end, you make it back to the hotel without any incidents, which you are very grateful for. As soon as you make it inside, Ian brings you over to a quiet section of the lobby,then looks around briefly before focusing his attention on you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “I saw that you had to leave signing for a couple of minutes. Chanse filled me in, but I just want to make sure you’re still okay for tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you answer honestly. “Just a momentary bout of nausea, but I’m feeling better.”

“Okay, good. So look, obviously I don’t actually need you guys for anything, so you guys should head up to your room to rest for a bit. I’ll be knocking on your door at 6:30, so you have about an hour and fifteen minutes before you need to be ready to go. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Angela says. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you,” you echo. “And thanks for the king sized bed.”

“Of course,” Ian replies. “I figured you’d be in the same bed anyways, so at least this way you have some extra room.”

“Well we appreciate it,” Angela says.

“No problem. Now you two should head upstairs. I’ll see you in a bit.”

With a nod in parting, Ian turns and heads off in the direction of the hotel’s front desk, so you and Angela take his advice and head upstairs. As soon as you get into your room, you strip out of your clothes from the day, eager to trade them in for something more comfortable. You slip on a pair of silk pajama pants, and you’re about to put on the matching top when you feel your girlfriend’s hand on your wrist.

“Leave it off,” Angela says. “I want to lay on your stomach.”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling softly.

You climb up onto the bed and lay back against the pillows, then look up at your girlfriend to signal that she’s good to join you. She does, maneuvering herself carefully beside you before wrapping her arms around your waist and laying her head gently on your growing baby bump. Sighing in contentment, you grab the remote from the side table and turn on the TV, flipping through the channels until you settle on one that’s playing The Rookie.

Time flies by, and soon enough, Angela is promising you kisses in exchange for getting out of bed to get ready. After spending a little bit to much time making out, you change into another shirt that you had stolen from your girlfriend and an oversized pair of cream pants. As soon as you’re done, you head into the bathroom to do a quick hair and makeup touch up, and then you are heading back out into the bedroom.

A strangled gasp escapes your throat as you walk out in time to see Angela pulling a dark pair of high waisted jeans up. Smirking, she looks up and shoots you a wink as she pulls up the zipper and does the button. You swallow hard as you take a few steps towards her, grabbing the belt that she had left on the bed before stopping in front of her. Trying to keep your breathing as even as possible, you slip the belt through the loops in her jeans and then do up the buckle.

“Thanks,” Angela whispers, leaning in for a soft kiss.

“Mmm,” you moan out softly, pulling her into your body. “This is a bad idea.”

“I’m just kissing you.”

“Yeah, and I already wanna ditch karaoke so that we can stay here and fuck.”

“Baby, you can’t say stuff like that,” Angela whines as she reaches down to squeeze her cock, no doubt trying to stop the blood from rushing there. “I’m gonna get hard, and there’s no hiding a boner in there jeans.”

“Sorry,” you say, smiling to yourself as you run your hands up her sides.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. Do you want help with your shirt?”

“Please.”

You smile and grab the white short sleeved button up that is laid out on the bed, then delicately help Angela pull it over her shoulders. She smiles softly at you and leans in for another kiss, and you quickly get distracted from your job, instead pulling her into you further and trailing your hands all across the smooth skin of her back. Just as she starts to deepen the kiss, a knock on the door startles you out of the moment.

“Fuck,” Angela says, pulling away and starting to do up the buttons on her shirt. “We lost track of time.”

“I wonder whose fault that is,” you tease.

“It’s not my fault you’re so damn kissable.”

Ignoring your girlfriend’s grumbling, you head to the door. Angela follows you, doing up the last two buttons just as you open up to see Ian on the other side. You exchange quick hellos, and then you head down to the lobby and back out onto the street. The karaoke bar isn’t very far away, and soon enough, you find yourselves taking the elevator up to the rooftop patio. As you step out, you immediately see Anthony and Shayne, who walk over to you.

“Hey,” Anthony says, doing a short handshake with Ian. “You guys are back just in time. They’re gonna start letting fans in any minute now.”

“Cool,” Ian replies as he looks around. “This a nice venue.”

“Right?”

Leaving the boys to their chat, you and Angela head outside to the bar where the rest of your castmates are congregating. Most of them have drinks in front of them, the only one drinking something non-alcoholic being Amanda, which is probably a good thing, as she’d had at least two margaritas at dinner. As you approach the group, Chanse looks up and does a little squeal of excitement that you’ve arrived.

“You’re here!” Chanse says excitedly, clearly already a little tipsy. “Ugh, tonight is going to be so much fun!”

“It is,” Angela agrees, immediately matching his energy. “What are you planning on singing?”

“I’m feeling some Queen tonight.”

“You going classic or off script?”

“I mean, I’ve gotta go Bohemian Rhapsody, right?”

“I would,” you say. “I mean, it’s a banger, and everyone knows the words.”

“That’s so true. So, you got a plan?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m going with How To Save A Life.”

“Oooh, that’s a good choice,” Chanse says. “I was thinking about doing Over My Head, but honestly, it kind of hurts my vocal cords.”

“Yeah, artificial rasp sucks.”

“What about you, Ange? You going down the rock route also?”

“I’m definitely thinking about it,” Angela replies. “I have a couple of songs in mind, so I’m gonna go off of vibes.”

“Go off of vibes for what?” Courtney asks as she walks over with Amanda.

“My song. I haven’t decided on it yet.”

“Oh, I haven’t either,” Amanda says. “I feel like I should do something recent, but I don’t know what.”

“Oh, what about Hot To Go?” Angela suggests. “God knows you’ve sung that in the shower enough times to have the lyrics down.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Your husband may or may not have cursed me out for introducing you to Chappell Roan. He said he likes her music, but not when it’s the same song on repeat for four days.”

“It was not four days,” Amanda says incredulously.

“Anyways,” Courtney interrupts, stopping the spiral that’s about to happen. “We should grab another round of drinks before we kick things off. They’re gonna start letting fans in soon.”

Before you can tell the blonde that you are staying sober, she turns to the bartender and orders five shots. You look over at Angela, trying to figure out what to do, but she looks just as lost. The drinks arrive and Courtney passes them out to everyone, but before she can get you guys to all do the shot together, she gets called away by Shayne.

“Oh, thank God,” you say, handing your shot to Chanse. “Here you go, buddy.”

“Thanks!” Chanse says, downing the two shots like they’re water. “Fuck, I love tequila.”

“That might’ve been a mistake,” you mutter, turning to look at your girlfriend.

“Eh, he’ll be fine,” Angela says, placing her still full shot glass on the bar. “I’ve seen him go shot for shot with a 6 foot 4, 250 pound Irish guy and win.”

“I’m pretty sure he cheated,” Amanda says. “I’ll look after him, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” you say, before turning your attention to your girlfriend. “You can drink, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I meant what I said last night,” Angela says softly. “You’re sober, I’m sober.”

“Awww, you guys are so sweet,” Amanda say with a smile. “But you may want to tone it down a little, they’re starting to let fans in and we don’t want to blow this thing at the 11th hour.”

Sure enough, when you look over to the door that leads to the inside section of the bar, there are people streaming through it. It only takes five minutes for the venue to fill up, and soon enough, there’s a line for the bar that wraps around almost the entire patio. A couple of fans push their way between you and Amanda, and you find yourself self anxiously reaching for Angela’s hand as you’re pushed back into her.

“You okay?” Angela asks, taking your hand and shift to conceal the action.

“Yeah,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I’m okay.”

“Look, there’s security everywhere, so if anybody makes you uncomfortable, tell them. Don’t take any chances.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

Angela leans in and leaves a quick kiss on the back of your neck, then squeezes your hand once before dropping it. As much as you wish you could continue holding hands, you know that the risk of getting caught in a crowd this big is just too high, and Amanda is right. You definitely don’t want to blow tomorrow’s surprise at the last minute. Before you have the chance to get anxious for a whole different reason, the sound of a mic being tapped grabs your attention.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to Karaoke with Smosh,” Ian says from the stage. “How is everyone doing tonight?” The crowd roars.. “Tonight we are going to have some cast members performing songs for you, and once we’ve all gone, we’re going to open up the mic to you. How does that sound?” The crowd cheers again, and they get even louder when Anthony comes on stage with his own mic. “Alright, let’s kick things off.”

The opening notes of Submissive and Breedable play, and soon, everyone is singing along to the Smosh original. Ian and Anthony alternate taking over bbno$’s parts, absolutely killing the chorus as well as their own verses. When the song comes to an end, Courtney gets up on stage and absolutely kills it Working For The Weekend.

As more and more of your castmates take the stage and perform, you and Angela find yourselves moving closer and closer, until you’re front and center. Chanse and Amanda end up joining you, and soon, you’re jumping around to the music and having the absolute time of your lives. After Tommy and Shayne perform, and Spencer takes the stage, you head over to the stairs to wait for your turn.

“How are you doing?” Ian asks as he comes to stand beside you.

“I’m good,” you reply, looking over at your boss. “Thanks for checking in.”

“Of course. Just make sure you stay hydrated, yeah? It’s hot.”

“I’ll grab some water from the bar after I sing.”

“Good. Break a leg up there.”

You nod in thanks and then turn your attention back up to the stage. Spencer had just finished his song, and is now walking towards you with the mic. He holds it out for you and you take it, giving him a grateful smile before walking up the stairs and taking the stage. As the music starts, you let your instincts take over and just start performing. Honestly, you black out a little bit, but it goes well and you leave the stage to a massive round of applause.

“That was amazing,” Amanda says as you hand the mic off to her. “You absolutely killed that song.”

“Thanks,” you reply. “I might have blacked out a bit.”

“Is it really a performance if you’re fully conscious?” Amanda winks as she starts to climb up the stairs. “Ange is at the bar ordering you a drink, by the way.”

You chuckle at the comment about performances, then head to the bar to find your girlfriend. It takes a minute to weave your way through the thick crowd, but eventually you find Angela standing off to one side with two glasses of cold water in her hands. A smile pulls at your lips as you walk over to her, and she holds out one of the drinks for you. You take it gratefully, immediately taking a few refreshing sips.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you say, wiping excess water from your top lip. “I can’t believe how thirsty singing one song made me.”

“Considering the way you crushed it, I’m not surprised,” Angela replies. “You did so fucking good.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to watch you perform.”

“And I can’t wait to sing for you.”

“Did you choose a song?” you ask.

“I did,” Angela confirms with a nod. “And I think you’re gonna love it. Just know that I mean every word.”

Before you can respond, Angela winks and then sets her now empty glass of water down on the bar, before making her way up to the stage. Chanse is just finishing up, and before you know it, your girlfriend is taking the mic from him and bounding up the stairs. As she takes her place at center stage, the first notes of the song play. You recognize it immediately, and your heart pounds in your chest as Angela starts to sing.

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Where a moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna to fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

Trying and failing to keep the emotion out of your voice, you start to sing along. Having your girlfriend sing this to you, of all songs, means so much. It’s been one of your favorites ever since you can remember, and it’s on the short list to be the first dance song at your wedding. As Angela starts the second verse, she looks over to where you’re standing and smiles. You can see the tears shining in her eyes, and that pushes you over the edge.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating

And I'm wondering what you're dreaming

Wondering if it's me you're seeing

Then I kiss your eyes

And thank God we're together

And I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever

Forever and ever

I don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna to fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream will never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

As you continue to sing along, you feel a tear run down your cheek. You hastily wipe it away, afraid that someone will see it and connect dots you don’t want them to connect yet. Just sixteen more hours. Sixteen more hours, and you can tell the world that the amazing girl on stage right now is the love of your life and the mother of your child. As you smile at the though, your girlfriend looks away and starts the last verse.

I don't wanna miss one smile

And I don't wanna miss one kiss

And I just wanna be with you

Right here with you, just like this

And I just wanna hold you close

I feel your heart so close to mine

And just stay here in this moment

For all the rest of time

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Don't wanna close my eyes

Don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

I don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep, yeah

And I don't wanna miss a thing

The song comes slowly to a close, and you find yourself wiping more wetness from your eyes. On the bright side, no one is paying attention to you, their eyes all glued on the stage where your girlfriend is taking a bow. You smile, watching as she walks off the stage and hands the off to Ian, who makes the announcement that the mic is open. As fans start to line up, Angela comes walking over to her, a shy smile on her face.

“So, what did you think?” she asks.

“I loved it,” you say softly, leaning in so that nobody else can hear what you’re saying. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Let’s get you some more water, yeah?”

With a nod in agreement, you follow Angela over to the bar. Someone immediately comes over and takes your order, and in less than two minutes, you have another ice cold water in your hands. You don’t hesitate to drink it, sighing as the cool liquid quenches the thirst that had built during your girlfriend’s performance. After finishing the glass, you set it down on the bar, and as you wipe the excess moisture from your mouth, you let out an unexpected yawn.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks, her lips pulled down into a pout.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reply. “Just tired.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Ian and see if we can head out. We’ve done our performances, and we’ll still have more than enough people here to fulfill the contract if we go.”

“That’s a good idea. Heading back to the hotel sounds amazing right about now.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in two minutes, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You watch Angela as she walks away, disappearing in the direction that she had last seen your boss. A sigh escapes your lips as you move closer to the bar, leaning against it to relieve the ache in your feet from a day spent on them. While you wait for your girlfriend to come back, you turn your attention up to the stage to watch. The person performing right now isn’t half bad, but they could have done a lot better on the song choice.

“Not a fan of Sabrina Carpenter?” a voice with a British accent says from beside you.

“It’s not that,” you say, turning to look at the person who spoke to you and seeing a tall woman with dark hair and immaculate cheek bones. “I just don’t think her work pairs well with this singer’s voice.”

“Mmm, I’d have to agree. My name is Lily.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Lily says, a smile pulling at her lips. “I have to say, your performance was stunning.”

“Oh, thank you!”

“Of course. You’re very talented. I’m actually a big fan. I wanted to get a picture with you earlier, but my workshop ended up running long.”

“Oh, so you’re a creator too?” you ask.

“Yeah, I mostly post workout routines and such, but I’ve been branching out into fashion a little bit as well.”

“I’ll have to check out your channel. I’m always looking for new stuff to do in the gym.”

“Honestly, I don’t think you need my help,” Lily says, looking you up and down. “You look fantastic.”

“Oh, that’s so ni-”

“Hey, Ian says we’re good to go,” Angela interrupts, sliding in next to you.

“Thank God,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief as you turn to look at your girlfriend. “Are we gonna make the rounds, say goodbye to everyone?”

“Nah, I saw Chanse and Amanda on my way back over and let them know we were heading out. They’ll spread the message if anyone is looking for us.”

“Cool, so we’re in the clear?”

“We are in the clear,” Angela confirms.

“Good,” you reply before turning your attention back to Lily. “Would you like to get a picture before I head out? I know you said you didn’t get one earlier.”

“That would be amazing,” the woman says, pulling out her phone. “Thank you.”

“Of course!”

After posing for a quick selfie, you say goodbye to who you hope is going to end up a new friend before heading towards the exit with Angela. She walks silently beside you, pausing only to thank the event coordinator as you pass her on the way out. When you get to the elevator, she hits the button for the ground level, and you climb inside. As the doors close, you look over at her to see that she’s clenching her jaw, her eyes focused on the floor indicator.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, reaching over to take your girlfriend’s hand.

“Yeah,” Angela says, taking a deep breath in before sighing. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, baby. Talk to me.”

“That girl was flirting with you.”

“What?”

“That girl, at the bar. She was flirting. With the compliments and the subtly moving closer and the fuck me eyes.”

“Wait,” you say, slowly starting to understand. “Are you…jealous?”

“No,” Angela scoffs, though she’s blushing. “I’m not jealous, it’s just…you’re mine.”

“You do know that I wasn’t flirting back, right?”

“I know, it’s just…I hate that people that it’s okay to flirt with you, that you’re on the market.”

“It won’t be that way for much longer,” you say reassuringly. “This time tomorrow, we’ll have officially gone public. Until then, I guess you’ll just have to make me yours in private.”

“Oh, that I can do, love.”

Less than ten minutes later, you find yourself having barely enough time to kick off your shoes before you’re being gently but firmly pressed against the wall in the foyer of your hotel room. One of Angela’s hands is wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while the other is gripping tightly onto your waist as she kisses you with fervor. You moan as her tongue swipes across the seam of your mouth, and your lips part to grant her entrance.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan as Angela pulls away to mouth at your neck. “Bed. Now.”

Never one to deny your request, your girlfriend moves her hands to the backs of you thighs and scoops you up, carrying you into the bedroom and placing you gently against the sheets. You scoot up the bed until your back hits the pillows, and watch as Angela climbs up with you, stopping when she’s straddling you. She looks down at you, her eyes filled with pure desire, and runs her fingers along the bottom hem of your shirt.

You sit up, never breaking eye contact with your girlfriend, and slowly lift the tee over your head, discarding it to some random spot on the floor. Her breath hitches as she takes you in, and soon she reaching forward to undo the clasp of your bra. As soon as that is out of the way, you start returning the favor, slowly undoing the buttons of her collared shirt before practically yanking her sports bra over her head.

“Fuck,” you murmur, taking in the sight in front of you.

“Like what you see?” Angela asks, smirking.

“Definitely. But I wanna see more.”

“That can be arranged.”

Angela sits back on her heels and slowly undoes her belt buckle, pulling it through the loops of her jeans as she looks deeply into your eyes. Once it’s off and thrown elsewhere, she slowly pops open the button before pulling down the zipper. It’s then that you get a good look at her bulge, the tightness of her jeans having kept it contained for the most part. You lick your lips as you sit up, using your right hand to pull her in for a kiss while your other goes to her cock.

“Jesus,” Angela breathes out, squeezing her eyes shut. “I always forget how good your hands feel.”

“Yeah?” you say with a smirk. “I know something that feels a hell of a lot better.”

“Mmmm, please. Wanna be inside you.”

“I want you inside me too, baby. Come here.”

As you pull Angela in for another kiss, you lay back so that it’ll be easier to get the rest of your clothes off. You start with your girlfriend’s jeans, pushing them down as you get lost in her lips and the movement of her tongue. It takes a minute to get them completely off, but her boxers are easy, and then it’s your turn. In her haste to get to the good part, Angela pulls your pants and underwear off at the same time.

“Are you ready?” your girlfriend asks softly.

In lieu of giving a response, you take Angela’s hand and put it between your thighs, allowing her to feel how soaked you are. Her eyes immediately squeeze shut at the contact, a choked moan escaping from her lips. You smirk, but it’s wiped off of your face when she runs her fingers up you slit, circling you clit slowly. She repeats the motion a few more times before dipping two fingers into you, only to pull them out immediately.

“What are you-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as you feel Angela run the tip of her cock over your entrance, and the you’re moaning as she slowly pushes into you. She pauses as she bottoms out, pulling herself up slightly so she can look into your eyes. The intensity of her gaze sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you end up clenching around her unintentionally. This caused your girlfriend to buck into you, and from there, you start a slow pace.

“Fuck, I love being able to feel you around me,” Angela moans.

“Me too,” you say, gasping as she hits just the right spot. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

As Angela starts to thrust harder and deeper, you feel the telltale sign of your orgasm building in your core. The burn is starting to radiate out farther and farther, licking up to stomach and down your thighs until it finally explodes outwards and envelops your entire body. Your back arches and your thighs shake as they try to clamp shut, only to be stopped by the body in between them.

“Fuck,” you whine as you finally find your voice. “Fuck, Angela.”

“Yes,” Angela moans. “Say my name, baby. Say my name.”

“Angela, fuck. God, I love you.”

“Fuck, I’m-”

A deep moan rips from Angela’s throat as her hips stutter and then still as she buries herself deep inside you. The feeling of her release sends you into an unexpected orgasm, and you wind up crying out her name so loudly that you’re sure everybody on the floor heard you. As you slowly come down from your high, you lean up into your girlfriend, pressing lazy kisses against her collarbone and neck.

“Oh my God,” Angela says, her breathing uneven. “That was…fuck, how are we ever gonna go back to using condoms?”

“I have no idea,” you reply, sighing in contentment. “Maybe I’ll just have to get a birth control implant.”

“We can talk to your doctor about it after the baby’s born. For now, let’s just enjoy fucking raw with no consequences.”

“Uhm, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but there certainly is a consequence.”

“That doesn’t count. We used a condom.”

“That broke because it was from the fucking Ming Dynasty.”

“It was not that old,” Angela says, blushing furiously. “It was only a month past its expiration date.”

“And what did we learn from that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“An expiration date is not a suggestion, it’s a promise.”

“Correct.”

“Are you done teasing me now?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Angela says, her pout softening. “Let’s take a quick shower to clean up and then get into bed for the night. I wanna cuddle you to sleep.”

“That sounds amazing.”

—

The next morning, after spending an hour getting ready and hardly being able to eat any breakfast due to your nerves, you finally find yourself taking the stage for the live panel. As you take your seat on the couch between Angela and Chanse, you look out at the audience to see an entirely full house. There’s not one empty seat that you can see, barring the few in the front row that are reserved for the people working.

As the rest of the cast takes their seats, the applause that had started when Smosh was announced starts to die down. You keep looking around, trying to focus on anything but what you know is going to happen in less than an hour, before finally deciding to just turn your attention to Shayne. Your castmate is sitting center stage in his own chair, fiddling with the iPad as he waits for the cue to start. As soon as he get the all clear, he begins.

“Welcome, to a live reading of Reddit stories. I am your host, Shayne, and today we are going to be looking at some confessions from our very own. Let’s get started. Am I the asshole for eating the last pack of ramen?”

Having something to focus your mind on calms your nerves a little bit, and as the story goes on, you find yourself relaxing farther back into the couch. As you start to be able to concentrate more, you find yourself enthralled in figuring out who had confessed to something that would surely have devastated a few people in the office. By the time Shayne gets to the end of the story, you have a guess in your mind, but you’re completely surprised when it’s wrong.

The next three Reddit posts pass by in a breeze, though you are never able to successfully guess who submitted them. Two of them were posted by crew members that you don’t have the pleasure of working with often, but you should have admittedly guessed the one that Trevor had posted. As conversation dies down following Erin Kuschner’s submission, your heart rate starts to rise as Shayne begins to read the final submission.

Am I the asshole for keeping a secret from my co-workers?

I (27f) and my partner (31f) have been been keeping a secret from our coworkers for the past three months. It all started when we were dragged to a club after work on a friday. I won’t go into details, but drinks were had and mistakes were made. My partner, who was a friend at the time, and I ended up going home together. Six weeks, a missed period, and two tests later, I found out I was pregnant.

After informing my partner, we had a long discussion about our relationship and what we wanted out of the pregnancy. Ultimately, we agreed to keep the news to ourselves, barring the two people who had already found out about it.

So, am I the asshole for keeping a secret from my co-workers?

“Holy shit,” Shayne says, his eyes wide.

“Whoever this is has skill,” Olivia says. “Keeping a secret like that, and for three months? I could never.”

“And announcing it here?” Courtney adds. “That takes fucking balls.”

“But it is such as Smosh thing to do,” Tommy says. “Announcing a pregnancy by writing a Reddit post is kind of iconic.”

“So what are we thinking on the verdict?” Shayne asks as he looks around.

“Not the asshole, for sure,” Courtney says. “Everybody has the right to privacy, especially when it’s something like this. Would I have liked to know? Yes. But ultimately, it’s up to OP to decide what they want to share and when.”

“I totally agree,” Amanda says. “Having a kid is so personal, and a lot of times, people don’t tell their friends and family until they’re three months along anyways. Whether they were afraid to jinx anything or just wanted to stay in their little bubble of happiness for a long as possible, it was their choice, and personally, I would have done the same. Not the asshole.”

“Okay, so Courtney and Amanda are both voting not the asshole,” Shayne says, looking around the rest of the stage. “Is there anyone who thinks that OP is the asshole?”

“No way,” Damien says, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the cast. “This was a personal decision that OP and their partner made and agreed on together, and keeping the secret didn’t harm anybody.”

“Agreed,” Chanse says. “While it sucks to be kept in the dark, this is definitely isn’t something that I would be mad at.”

“Okay, so we’re all in agreement, OP is not the asshole,” Shayne says, looking down at his iPad and then back up. “Any guesses on who submitted this absolutely fucking wild story?”

“I don’t even have a guess,” Keith says, looking around the cast before turning off stage to the crew. “Nobody here even looks pregnant.”

“It has to be a crew member, right?” Arasha says. “We would’ve noticed if it was someone in the cast.”

“I’m just as in the dark as you guys,” Shayne says with a shrug of is shoulders. “Any other guesses?” When nobody says anything, he continues. “So, would the cast or crew member who submitted this story please raise their hand.”

Feeling your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly sit up straighter in your seat and then lift your hand above your head. You watch Shayne’s jaw drop, and Arasha sits so far forward in her chair that she almost falls off. Laughing, you look over at Angela, and she raises her hand as well. A collective gasp from the audience as well as most of the cast echoes through the room.

“What?!” Keith nearly yells. “You two?”

“I fucking knew it!” Courtney shouts, standing up. “I knew there was something going on with you, I just couldn’t figure out what. Now your change in style makes so much sense.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t exactly walk around in skinny jeans and tight t-shirts anymore,” you say jokingly. “My bump would’ve been too obvious.”

“So you’re having a baby?” Shayne says excitedly, before looking over at your girlfriend. “And you’re the father?”

“Yep,” Angela says, smirking. “Just call me Daddy.”

“Absolutely not,” you say, a look of horror written all over your face.

“What, not a fan of that term?” Chanse asks teasingly.

“Definitely not. It gives me the ick. Big time.”

“Then we won’t use it,” Angela says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “But if our kid calls me Dada, you’re gonna have to suck it up.”

“Our kid can call you whatever they want,” you say.

“I can’t believe you’re having a baby!” Courtney says, rushing over and throwing her arms around you and Angela. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Court.”

“Wait, so when did this happen?” Olivia asks.

“That is definitely not a conversation for here,” Angela says, blushing. “We’ll spill all the tea later.”

“You better believe we’ll hold you to that,” Arasha replies.

[dilfartist]

May I request a Part 3 for the Leon las plagas fic?? It's just so!!! Exciting!! How reader reacts to the pregnancy? Weird side effects??? Does Leon's aggression turn into more smothering affection? Do the scientists conduct physical tests on reader (how does Leon react to that??? Does he have to be restrained? Is he present?) Her thoughts as shes kept in relative isolation? Does she bond with the baby she's carrying (talking to the bump, playing games)?

Missed - short (pt.3)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; Visiting Leon after your check-up

Reader description; Female/GN

Edited: No, Yes

Word count; 1k

TW; kidnapping, forced pregnancy, SA mentioned.

Notes; {Last part! Also, very sorry if this isn’t a good ending just wanted to post something to get me into writing again.}

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

“Mrs.(Last name), your breakfast is ready.”

The radiant lights flick on, nearly blinding you despite the dark blanket covering your face, gaining an irked groan from you. It takes an effort to lift yourself, the additional weight in your abdomen making it a laborious act. “What is It?” you utter, voice raspy.

A Nurse enters the room. She hauls in a full tray of food. Providing you with a polite smile, she set the tray on your blanketed lap. “This morning we made you: pancakes, bacon, and eggs; just as you requested yesterday.” You nod showing acknowledgment, returning her polite smile. “After you eat, we’ll start with your check-up. Okay?” you nod once again and she takes her queue to exit.

It’s been four prolonged months since you conceived the baby, or what the scientists declare “experiment 12,”. While your time staying here hasn’t been the best it’s beginning to feel like your new life.

You follow a schedule: first breakfast, then a check-up, maybe a meeting with Leon, and whatever else happens throughout the day.

The food here is okay. Truth be told you wish you could have a burger, maybe even convince one of the workers to stop by a fast food joint. Unfortunately, the scientists prefer for you to eat what they provide and only what they provide. Some day you’ll convince them the baby wants it. Maybe then they’ll get it.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble to yourself. You get out of bed and head over to your wardrobe, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a random comfortable shirt. It was nice of them to bring your clothes from home, they were way more comfortable than what they had suggested you wear at first.

“I’m ready,” you call out, knowing they are watching you from the other side of the glass. A doctor enters the room clutching a pen and clipboard. She pushes in a cart of medical supplies, “Hello, Mrs. (last name),” she sings, “How’s you and the baby?” She sits on the chair adjacent to your bed, patting the edge to encourage you to sit as well.

“We’re fine.” you groan, lifting your body up to take a seat beside her on the bed.

“Hm, still no out-of-the-ordinary cravings for pregnancy - no pains?”

“No, still none.” you sighed, looking down at your pregnant ample belly.

Throughout your pregnancy, everything seemed to be normal. You had the same cravings as any other woman, the normal discomforts as other pregnant women- everything appeared expected for a pregnant woman. It provoked worry from both you and the scientists. The normalcy in the pregnancy could lead to an abnormally painful birth or an abnormally formed baby; as hypothesized by the scientists.

You look up to see her documenting the given information on her clipboard. “I’m still allowed to see Leon, right?” you inquire, tone a bit desperate. She glances up from her paper and smiles at you, “Yup! After we’re done, I’ll take you to his chambers.” She clicks her pen and the blue ink tip withdrawals. Putting away the pencil, she pulls out the medical supplies and begins to examine you.

She runs a couple of tests which take about twenty minutes. Then she gets to your belly; gently she touches around the round flesh, her fingertips slightly poking at you not enough to earn your discomfort. You watch as her brows begin to furrow slightly, growing in intensity after every couple of seconds that her hands explore your belly. From your point of view, it’s like she’s checking a fleshy watermelon, gently shaking and poking at it.

After a while of poking and rubbing you like a crystal ball, she holds your stomach for a minute, and her eyes widen slightly. She bends down and lifts your stomach.

“I finally found something anomalous,” she says triumphantly, a smug grin spreading on her face as she perks up at you. You peer down at her, curiously attempting to look at yourself but ultimately failing due to your belly’s size. “What? What is it?”

She stands tall pulling off her blue gloves. “Your stomach is heavier than a normal pregnant woman’s.” She ambles to the trash can by the door and disregards the gloves. “I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it before- maybe this happened overnight or something.” She shrugs.

Now that you consider it, you have noticed other pregnant women don’t find normal tasks as difficult as you do. Well, they obviously do find it hard- you meant from what you’ve been told by the doctors. Usually, women rate their pain as a five or six. You’d rate your pain as a seven or eight in recent days.

Instinctively, you began to caress your stomach. How bad would it hurt during the birth procedure? Wouldn’t the heavier the abdomen mean the heavier the baby? Your eyes widen and suck in a quivering breath. She takes notice of the change in mood, asking what’s the matter. You explain to her your concerns resulting in her chuckling, “There is a possibility of the birth being a bit hard, but I assure you, you’ll be in good hands.”

She leads you out of your room where two security officers are awaiting your arrival. They greet you with a nod of their heads, then continue to look onwards. You’re escorted through the plain white hallways until you finally reach a heavily gated metal door. One of the security guards walks over to put in the code, ensuring his back faces you. The doors open wide and you depart the doctor's side to enter.

Listening closely you can make out the dialogue from taxi driver playing at a medium volume. You shut the door behind you softly.

Leon sits in a wing chair, one leg across the other, slouching back with his head resting on his palm. Leon can usually detect when you’ve entered the room by your scent and the sound of your footsteps, but he was too captivated by the movie. Cute.

You tip-toe over, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. Resting against the top part of the chair you tap the top of his head. Leon jerks forward slightly, he looks up, ruby eyes meeting yours. It takes him but a moment to realize it's you. He grins at you, “You surprised me.” he comments with a chuckle.

“Really? I thought I gave you a hard attack.” you giggle. You take your seat in the other wing chair pointed toward the television.

Leon smiles softly at you. Good, you think. Leon was starting to show off his emotions more openly now.

After the night you had conceived, Leon avoided you like the plague. His mind was guilted with the knowledge of what he had done to you. The person he swore he’d never hurt. It took weeks for him to look you in the eyes. About a month to finally start talking to you continuously instead of spewing a few words as a response to you. Now he was showing his emotions off after a couple of months.

“How was today's check-up? You did have one today right?” Leon questions, slightly moving his chair in your direction.

“Yeah the baby is still healthy but we found out it's really heavy.”

Leon nods his head taking in the new information. You decide to question him on his time away from you, “what about you? Anything new?”

Leon absentmindedly fiddles with his fingers, he recalls his day in slow-formed sentences, “Well, they finally told me when I’d be able to continue working.” Leon had been wanting to get back to work sometime, he’d been asking every month since his captivity. “They say I’ll start next month.”

You hum, “That’s great, baby.”

“It's good and all,” Leon starts, leaning back in his chair, “but I hope I’m not out when the baby comes.” Leon didn't trust anyone in the building when it came to the baby’s delivery. He wanted to be there not only for your safety but to unsure they wouldn’t try anything.

“We still need to decide the name,” Leon notes.

Leon lets out a small sigh, displaying a small smile. He looks at your stomach, “That reminds me, what about the gender? Do you know it yet? Did they tell you?”

“Oh, yeah! Give me a second.” You abruptly stand, hurrying your way as fast as your swollen feet can go to the door. You tap on the door. Tap, Tap, Tap. The door opens slightly ajar, and the doctor peaks in slightly. “Is everything okay?” her eyes flash worry. “Do you have the paper for the baby’s gender?” her worry dissipates, “Yes.” she slides in a vanilla envelope through the crack.

You close the door and make your way back to Leon. Presenting the vanilla envelope to him, he turns to you quickly, eyes slightly wide. “Should I open it, or you?” you sing, waving it in the air.

Leon focuses on the envelope, lips pursed in thought. His eyes softly turn to you, “Could you, please?”

“Okay.” you oblige, teasing him by moving ever so slowly.

“...what do you think?”

“...is it a boy?”

You grin at him not uttering a single word. Leon isn’t sure if his assumption is correct or not, so he asks for the second option. “Is it a girl?” This time instead of making him guess you nod your head.

A smile crosses Leon's face, but it's different from any other you've seen from him. It’s genuine. It wasn’t like Leon never smiled, just a few minutes ago he was- this was just different. He had a smile you could only capture when the subject of a candid photograph isn’t aware of the camera.

Leon is the first to move, hugging you tightly and slightly rocking your body along with his.

If it weren't for the circumstances of the situation, perhaps you too could find unconditional joy in the moment. Yet you can’t. At the end of the day, this child could tear you to bits. At the end of the day, you could die because of the possible unatural birth. At the end of the day, you could be shot down like an unuseful dog after their experiment is finally birthed.

You know the pleasure you feel in these moments will soon come to a soul-crushing end, so traumatizing you’ll awake in a cold sweat many years later if they have not disposed of you.

For now, you’ll indulge in the normalcy of the situation as much as you can.

For soon that will come to a crushing end.

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night - Part 4

Masterlist

You and Louis continue to navigate the final weeks of your pregnancy, along with the boys being there to support the both of you.

Tags: Louis x pregnant reader, lots of fluff, hospitals and pain

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

...

The energy in the stadium is electric, the cheers of thousands of fans filling the air as the final chords of the closing song fade out. The boys gather at the edge of the stage, sweat glistening on their brows and smiles lighting up their faces. Louis grabs a microphone, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Thank you, Manchester!” he shouts, his grin wide and boyish. “You lot have been absolutely unreal tonight—and this whole tour. We couldn’t do it without you.”

The fans erupt into cheers, and Niall steps forward, his own mic in hand. “Seriously, you’ve been incredible. Best fans in the world!”

Zayn nods and flashes a rare but genuine smile, leaning into his mic. “Yeah, thank you for sticking with us. It means everything.”

Harry cracks a joke about losing half his wardrobe to fans over the years, earning a wave of laughter, and Liam promises new music soon, his tone warm and heartfelt.

Finally, Louis turns to you, his blue eyes sparkling under the stage lights. “And before we wrap this up, there’s someone else who deserves a huge thank you.” He gestures for you to join them, and despite the roaring crowd, you feel a flicker of hesitation.

But Louis reaches out, his hand steady and inviting, and you take it, letting him pull you to his side. The cheers grow louder as he beams at you.

“This one right here,” he says into the mic, his voice filled with pride. “She’s been with us every step of the way this tour, even when it hasn’t been easy. So let’s give it up for her, yeah?”

The crowd responds with a deafening roar, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the overwhelming support. Taking the mic Louis hands you, you smile at the sea of faces.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” you begin, your voice a little shaky but steadying as you continue. “Not just to the boys but to all of you. You’ve been so patient and understanding while I’ve been figuring out how to navigate... well, everything.” You place a hand on your bump for emphasis, earning a wave of cheers.

Niall steps forward, his grin boyish and full of warmth. “And she’s been a legend, hasn’t she? A total star!”

The crowd erupts into cheers again, and you can’t help but laugh, feeling a wave of affection for him and the others.

“And I promise,” you add with a grin, “next time I’ll be able to give you a hundred percent again.”

Louis takes the mic back, his hand slipping to rest protectively over yours on your belly. His face softens, and his voice drops just enough to make the moment feel intimate, despite the thousands of people watching.

“Next tour’s gonna be a bit different, though,” he says, glancing at you before looking back at the crowd. “Because I’ll be a dad, and she’ll be a mum.”

The audience erupts, the cheers shaking the entire venue. Louis’ words hit you in the chest, a mixture of love and pride blooming in your heart. The other boys beam, patting Louis on the back and giving you knowing smiles.

Harry leans into his mic, winking at the crowd. “We might have to add some lullabies to the setlist.”

Niall chimes in with a cheeky grin. “Or get the baby some earplugs. Loudest kid in the world already, I reckon.”

The laughter from both the band and the crowd is infectious, and Louis pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple as the music swells for the final bow.

Together, with your little one growing between you, you step forward with the boys, hand in hand, ready to close this chapter and start the next.

...

The atmosphere at the bar buzzes with post-concert energy, the perfect blend of exhaustion and triumph fueling the celebration. Glasses clink, and laughter ripples through the room as the boys share stories of the tour, each memory growing more exaggerated and ridiculous with every retelling.

You sit nestled in the corner of the booth, sipping your sparkling water with lime. At 31 weeks pregnant, you’re doing your best to stay engaged, but your body isn’t exactly cooperating. Your back aches, your feet throb, and you can’t help but long for a comfortable bed and quiet.

Louis, ever-attentive, sits beside you, his arm protectively draped over the back of your seat. He’s been glued to your side all evening, stealing glances at you between conversations and checking in every few minutes.

“You sure you’re alright, love?” he asks again, his voice low so only you can hear. His hand gently squeezes your knee.

You give him a tired but genuine smile. “I’m fine, Lou. Just a bit sore and tired, that’s all.”

Louis frowns, not entirely convinced. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I can make an excuse—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This is a big night for us and the boys. I’m not missing it.”

Louis leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Biggest night of my life is sitting right here with me,” he murmurs, his words making your heart ache in the best way.

“Oi, what’s all the whispering about?” Niall interrupts, sliding into the booth across from you with a teasing grin. He holds up his soda. “You and me, non-drinkers’ club. Cheers to sparkling water.”

You laugh and clink your glass against his. “Cheers, Niall. Thanks for joining the club.”

“Only for you, darling,” Niall says dramatically, earning a chuckle from Louis.

A moment later, Liam joins, carrying an extra cushion he swiped from one of the bar’s chairs. “Thought you might need this,” he says, placing it gently behind your back.

You look up at him in surprise, warmth spreading across your face. “Liam, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Liam replies with a soft smile. “Figured you might need a bit of extra support. Don’t let him take all the credit,” he adds, nodding toward Louis.

“She never does,” Louis quips, earning a laugh from the table.

Harry saunters over, sliding into the seat beside Niall. “Alright, what’s the verdict? Are we raising the next frontman for the band or a future footballer?”

Louis smirks. “Why not both?”

Zayn follows with a plate of fries, setting them in front of you without a word.

You blink up at him, your face lighting up. “Zayn, you’re officially my favorite tonight.”

“Oi,” Louis protests immediately. “What about me?”

“You’re a close second,” you tease, popping a fry into your mouth as laughter erupts around the table.

The banter continues, the boys all taking turns doting on you in their own way. Even Liam can’t resist, offering to grab you anything else you might need.

As the night progresses, Louis clears his throat, his hand resting on your knee again. He glances at you, a silent question in his eyes. You nod softly, giving him permission.

“Alright, everyone,” Louis announces, his voice cutting through the hum of the bar. “We’ve got some news.”

The table quiets immediately, all eyes on the two of you.

“We’ve decided,” Louis continues, a proud smile tugging at his lips, “that we’re moving in together.”

The room erupts in cheers and congratulations. Niall raises his glass with a wide grin. “About bloody time! You two are a proper team already.”

Liam nods in agreement, his voice sincere. “It makes sense. You’ve already been there for each other through so much. It’s the next step.”

Harry leans back, smirking. “Louis and domestic life—this I’ve gotta see.”

“I’m an excellent cook,” Louis fires back defensively.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “He burns toast.”

Zayn shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Seriously though, that’s great. You two are going to smash it.”

Louis glances at you again, his hand squeezing yours. “We already are, aren’t we?”

Your heart swells as you lean into him, his arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. For the first time in weeks, the exhaustion and aches feel secondary to the overwhelming love and support radiating from the people around you. You look around the table, feeling lucky beyond words.

...

The plane touches down at Heathrow, and the bittersweet weight of the moment sinks in as you and Louis step off the plane. The familiarity of London feels comforting, but the knowledge that this marks the end of the tour leaves your heart heavy.

In the bustling terminal, the band gathers near the baggage carousel. The energy is subdued, the usual chatter replaced with reflective silence. The past months have been a whirlwind, and now it’s time to say goodbye—for now.

Harry is the first to step forward. His arms open wide as he gives you a warm hug, his curls tickling your cheek. “Take care of yourself, yeah? And don’t let Louis boss you around too much.”

“I’m the boss,” you reply with a small laugh, squeezing him tightly.

Harry pulls back, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s what I like to hear. Don’t be a stranger.”

Next is Zayn, who leans in for a hug without much fanfare, but his actions speak volumes. “You’ve done good,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. “I mean it. You’re family.”

The lump in your throat grows as you nod, unable to form words. His calm presence has been a quiet comfort throughout the tour, and you’ll miss it.

Liam steps up, his kind smile making you feel at ease even as the tears threaten to fall. He pulls you into a firm hug. “You’ve been incredible through all this. You’ve got a lot on your plate, but you’ve handled it better than anyone else could. We’ll be around if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks, Liam,” you manage to choke out, touched by his sincerity.

He steps back, looking at Louis. “Take care of her, mate. Not that I doubt you will.”

Louis nods, his arm tightening around your waist. “Always.”

Then there’s Niall. Your heart twists as he approaches, his expression a mix of pride and sadness. Niall’s been your rock, from the very start of this journey to now. He steps close, wrapping you in a hug that’s warmer and longer than any of the others.

“Don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” he murmurs into your ear. “You’ve been my partner in crime, you know that?”

Tears spill over, and you cling to him. “You’re going to be fine, Niall. And you’ll come over all the time, right? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Damn right I will.” He pulls back, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You’ve got something amazing ahead, though. And I’m so happy for you. Both of you.”

You smile through the tears, wiping at your cheeks. “Thanks, Niall. For everything.”

He steps back, clearing his throat and giving Louis a pointed look. “You better keep her happy, Tommo. Or I’ll be moving in.”

Louis grins, clapping Niall on the back. “Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

With all the goodbyes said, the boys gather their luggage, ready to head off in different directions. They promise to visit often, knowing events, interviews, and their unbreakable bond will keep them connected.

As you watch them walk away, your heart feels heavy but full. Louis leans down to press a kiss to your temple, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You alright, love?”

You nod, smiling up at him despite the tears. “Yeah. Just… a lot to take in.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze filled with nothing but love. “We’ve got this. Together.”

And with that, you leave the airport, ready to step into the next chapter of your lives.

...

As Louis pulls into the driveway of his home, a warm sense of familiarity washes over you. It’s cozy and welcoming, much like the man sitting beside you. You smile as you glance at him, his face lighting up with pride as he parks the car.

“Welcome home,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a swell of emotion at the idea of this being your shared space. You’re about to grab your bag when Louis holds up a finger.

“Wait. Before we go in, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “Oh? What’s that?”

Before he can answer, the front door swings open, and you hear a familiar voice call out. “Louis! You’re back!”

Your jaw drops as you see Johannah and Lottie stepping out onto the porch, beaming at the sight of the two of you.

“Johannah? Lottie?” you exclaim, looking to Louis for an explanation.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Surprise! I may have invited them over for dinner.”

“You could have warned me!” you hiss, though there’s no real heat in your tone.

He chuckles and leans in, whispering, “Thought it’d be nice for them to see you again—and for you to meet them properly, you know, as my girlfriend. And the soon-to-be mother of my child.”

Your heart swells despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. You’ve met Johannah and Lottie before in the context of being a band member, but this is entirely different.

By the time you step out of the car, Johannah is already making her way over. She envelops you in a warm hug, her genuine affection immediately putting you at ease.

“It’s so lovely to see you again,” she says, pulling back to give you a once-over. “And look at you! Absolutely glowing.”

You can’t help but smile, her kindness melting away your nerves. “It’s so nice to see you too, Johannah.”

“And me, obviously,” Lottie pipes up, her grin mischievous as she pulls you into a hug next. “This is such an exciting surprise.”

“It’s definitely a surprise,” you say with a laugh, shooting Louis a playful glare.

Johannah waves you toward the house. “Come on in. We’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Inside, the dining table is set beautifully, and the delicious smell of a home-cooked meal fills the air. You feel a bit overwhelmed but also incredibly touched by the effort they’ve put in.

As dinner begins, the conversation flows easily. Johannah asks about the pregnancy, her enthusiasm contagious, while Lottie teases Louis mercilessly about finally settling down.

“So, are you ready for all those sleepless nights, big brother?” Lottie quips, smirking over her glass of wine.

Louis rolls his eyes but smiles. “I’ll manage. Not like I’ll be doing it alone.” He places a hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Johannah beams at the two of you. “You’re going to make a wonderful little family. I couldn’t be prouder.”

Her words bring a lump to your throat, and you blink back tears as you look at Louis. He meets your gaze with so much love that you feel your nerves dissipate completely.

By the end of the night, you feel fully embraced by Johannah and Lottie, their warmth and support wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. As they say their goodbyes, Johannah hugs you tightly one more time.

“You’re part of the family now,” she says softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

As they leave and the house falls quiet, you turn to Louis, unable to hide your smile.

“That was... really nice,” you admit, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around you.

“I told you it would be,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Welcome home, love.”

...

A few days later the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, and you glance at Louis with a knowing smile as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Let me guess,” he says, already pushing himself off the couch. “Niall.”

You laugh, nodding as you watch him head to the door. Sure enough, moments later, Louis returns with Niall trailing behind him, holding a small box and a handful of brochures.

“Guess who’s here to be the best uncle ever?” Niall announces, a wide grin on his face as he kicks off his shoes.

“Niall, you already won that title by default,” you tease, standing up to greet him.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t secure my lead,” he counters, leaning down to give you a careful hug before setting the box on the coffee table. “Brought something for the nursery—and these.” He fans out the brochures with a flourish.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Are those... nursery design ideas?”

“Yup!” Niall says proudly. “Figured you two haven’t started yet, so I’d help get the ball rolling.”

You glance at the brochures and then at Niall, warmth blooming in your chest. “That’s really thoughtful of you. Thank you, Niall.”

He shrugs, but his smile grows softer. “Anything for you guys. Now, open the box!”

You sit down on the couch, Louis taking a seat beside you, as Niall perches on the edge of the coffee table. Carefully, you lift the lid of the box to reveal a beautifully handmade wooden mobile. Small, intricately carved shapes of stars, moons, and clouds dangle delicately from strings, their craftsmanship stunning.

“Oh, Niall,” you breathe, running your fingers over the smooth wood. “This is... it’s perfect.”

Louis reaches over, lifting one of the tiny moons with a reverent look. “Mate, did you make this?”

Niall blushes slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a little help, but yeah. Thought it might add a nice personal touch to the nursery.”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes and quickly wipe them away, smiling at Niall through your emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“Oi, don’t cry!” Niall exclaims, half-teasing, half-concerned. “I’m supposed to be helping, not making you emotional.”

“Too late for that,” Louis mutters with a grin, leaning over to kiss your temple.

As you calm yourself, Niall spreads out the brochures on the coffee table, motioning for you and Louis to join him. “Alright, so I’ve got ideas for themes, color palettes, furniture—you name it.”

For the next hour, the three of you pour over the brochures, debating everything from neutral tones to bright pops of color. Niall’s enthusiasm is infectious, and soon, you and Louis are bouncing ideas off him as if he’s an honorary interior designer.

“Okay, so we’re thinking stars and moons as a theme,” Niall says, scribbling notes on a pad he brought along. “Soft blues, creams, and maybe a touch of gold for accents. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Louis agrees, glancing at you for confirmation.

You nod, feeling excitement bubble up for the first time about putting the nursery together. “I love it. Thank you for this, Niall. Really.”

“Hey, anything for my favourite little family,” he says with a wink. “Now, let’s figure out where to start shopping!”

...

The bedroom is chaos—dresses strewn everywhere, shoes kicked off into random corners, and the vanity cluttered with makeup and jewelry. You’re standing in front of the mirror, glaring at your reflection as your hands tug at the hem of the dress you’ve been trying to make work for the past ten minutes.

Tonight’s event is a big one—a fancy charity gala where you and the boys are expected to make an appearance. You’re thrilled to see everyone again and can’t wait to catch up with Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Niall. It’s been too long since you’ve all been in the same place, laughing and joking like old times.

But instead of being excited about the evening, you’re caught up in the growing frustration of trying to find something—anything—that makes you feel good. At 33 weeks pregnant, nothing seems to fit the way you want, and the insecurity has hit harder than usual with the thought of facing the paparazzi tonight.

“God,” you mutter under your breath, smoothing your hands over the fabric clinging to your growing belly. “I look like a whale.”

From the doorway, Louis’ voice cuts in, light and teasing but laced with warmth. “Now, now, love. Don’t be insulting my gorgeous girlfriend like that.”

You spin to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, and your heart skips a beat. He looks devastatingly good in a tailored black suit, the crisp white shirt underneath unbuttoned just enough to hint at his collarbone. The sight of him, all sharp angles and boyish charm, takes the edge off your frustration for a moment.

But then you remember your reflection, and the frown returns. “Louis, I’m serious. Look at me! Nothing fits right, and I just look... huge.”

He steps into the room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes soft as they sweep over you. “You don’t look huge. You look like the absolute goddess that you are.”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the bitter laugh that escapes. “Don’t start with that ‘glowing’ nonsense again.”

“Alright,” he says, grinning as he walks up to you. “How about this: You look hot.” His voice drops on the last word, and the heat in his tone makes your cheeks flush.

“Louis...”

“No, really,” he interrupts, his hands gently gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. His thumbs rub soft circles against your sides. “Do you know what it does to me, seeing you like this? These curves—” He lets his hands drift over your hips and down to the swell of your belly, his voice turning low and full of mischief. “—every last one of them. You’re even more irresistible than usual.”

Your breath hitches, your earlier frustration melting under his gaze. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Nope,” he says, popping the p with a cheeky grin. “I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re carrying our baby, love. You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. And if you weren’t so annoyed at this dress, I’d probably have to pin you against the wall right now and show you just how much I mean it.”

You laugh despite yourself, swatting his chest lightly. “Louis!”

“What?” he says, his grin turning softer as he cups your cheek. “It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous, and I’m the luckiest man alive.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and tears well up in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“Always,” he promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and lingering, filled with the kind of reassurance that settles deep in your heart.

When he pulls back, he tugs at the dress slightly. “This one’s perfect, by the way. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You glance back at the mirror, and for the first time all evening, you see what he sees—a woman who’s radiant, strong, and glowing with life.

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Let’s do this.”

“That’s my girl.” He steps back, offering you his arm. “And don’t worry, love—I’ll be by your side the whole time. If any of those photographers so much as look at you wrong, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You laugh as you loop your arm through his, already feeling lighter. “I think I might actually be excited now. I can’t wait to see the boys.”

“They can’t wait to see you either,” Louis says as he leads you out. “Though I’ll have to remind them to keep their hands off—you’re mine, after all.”

The cheeky wink he throws your way has you rolling your eyes, but the smile that spreads across your face is undeniable. As the two of you head out, your heart feels full, and for the first time all evening, you’re not thinking about how you look—you’re just thinking about how loved you feel.

...

The event is in full swing by the time you and Louis step out of the car, hand in hand. The red carpet is dazzling under the flashes of the cameras, and though the noise and chaos of it all make your nerves twinge, Louis’ steady grip keeps you grounded.

“You ready for this, love?” he murmurs, leaning close as you approach the entrance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply, squeezing his hand.

The moment you step into the venue, a wave of warmth washes over you. Familiar faces greet you—celebrities, industry professionals, and longtime supporters of the charity the event is for. The boys are already scattered around, chatting and laughing with guests, but they immediately light up when they see you.

“There she is!” Niall grins, making his way over with a drink in hand. “How’s my favorite mum-to-be?”

“Excited to see all of you,” you say with a smile, accepting his gentle hug.

“You’re glowing,” Harry comments as he approaches, his charm dialed up as always. “And Louis, mate, look at you—ever the doting partner.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Louis quips, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Zayn and Liam join the group shortly after, their greetings just as warm. It feels like coming home, surrounded by the boys’ easy banter and genuine affection. For the first time in what feels like weeks, you’re not thinking about how tired or sore you are—you’re just enjoying the moment.

Throughout the evening, you catch up with old friends and acquaintances. There’s laughter, heartfelt congratulations, and even a few playful jabs at Louis, who takes it all in stride with his usual humor.

“You two are going to be amazing parents,” Rita Ora says with a warm smile. “And if your kid has even half the personality you both do, the world’s in for a treat.”

The words make you blush, and Louis beams, pulling you a little closer. “We’ll do our best,” he says.

But as the night wears on, the energy in the room shifts. The press and paparazzi start to linger closer, their questions and cameras becoming more invasive. You try to brush it off, but the constant attention starts to grate on your nerves.

“Over here, Louis! How’s fatherhood treating you?”

“Y/N, what are you most nervous about with the baby on the way?”

The questions come rapid-fire, and while Louis does his best to shield you, the noise and flashing lights start to feel suffocating.

It’s Niall who notices first. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says firmly, stepping in front of you. “Give her some space, yeah?”

Harry and Liam are quick to follow, their presence forming a protective barrier around you.

“She’s here to enjoy the night, not be interrogated,” Zayn adds, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the chaos.

Louis’ hand never leaves yours as he turns to the crowd, his tone steady but laced with warning. “You’ve got your photos. Now, back off.”

The collective effort of all the boys is enough to send the press retreating, and you breathe a sigh of relief as the noise dies down.

“You alright, love?” Louis asks, his concern evident as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you say, offering a small smile. “Thanks to all of you.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Niall says, flashing you a reassuring grin.

“And we’ll always be,” Harry adds, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder.

The rest of the evening passes more smoothly, the boys making sure to stay close and keep things light. By the time you’re heading home, you feel a renewed sense of gratitude—not just for Louis, but for the incredible group of men you’re lucky enough to call family.

...

The living room is filled with tension as you pace back and forth, your frustration bubbling over with every step. Everything feels wrong today. Your back is aching, your feet are swollen, and every piece of furniture you attempt to sit on seems determined to make you uncomfortable.

Louis, perched on the armrest of the couch, watches you with cautious concern. “Love, you’re wearing a path in the carpet. Why don’t you take a breather?”

You whip around, your glare sharp enough to make him straighten up. “A breather? Louis, I’ve been sitting and breathing for months. That’s all I can do anymore because of this!” You motion to your belly, which feels impossibly large and heavy.

Louis raises his hands in mock surrender, his tone soft and steady. “Alright, I get it. You’re uncomfortable. But snapping at me isn’t going to make it better.”

“Oh, don’t you dare start with the rational advice,” you snap back, planting your hands on your hips. “This is your fault, you know. You’re the one who got me into this mess!”

Louis blinks, and then, to your utter annoyance, he laughs. “I seem to recall you being pretty enthusiastic about it at the time.”

“That’s not the point!” you grumble, turning away from him. “I’m tired, and miserable, and I still have over a month to go. And everything we’ve bought for the baby is scattered in bags—we haven’t even started the nursery yet!”

At that, Louis gets to his feet, his teasing demeanor giving way to something softer. He steps behind you, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You’re right. We’ve been so busy, and you’ve been dealing with so much. But how about this—we’ll tackle the nursery today?”

You glance over your shoulder, skepticism written all over your face. “How? We’ve barely got a plan.”

“Well,” he says, grinning as he pulls out his phone, “I might’ve already texted Niall to come over. Figured he’d be good for some nursery shopping. You know how he loves planning things.”

Your frustration falters, replaced by a mix of surprise and relief. “You invited Niall?”

“Of course,” Louis says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “He’s been asking about when we’re getting started. Thought he might cheer you up a bit too.”

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door, followed by the familiar sound of Niall’s voice. “Alright, lovebirds, open up! Let’s get to work!”

Louis smirks and nudges you toward the door. “See? He’s already fired up. You can direct the two of us while we carry the heavy stuff.”

When you open the door, Niall greets you with a warm grin and a small stack of baby catalogues tucked under his arm. “Got some ideas for you,” he says, stepping inside. “Thought we could hit the shops, grab some furniture, maybe a few cute decorations.”

The sight of him, so eager and supportive, melts the last of your irritation. “Thanks, Niall. I could really use the help.”

“Anything for you,” he says with a wink, then glances down at your belly. “And for this little one too. Let’s make their room amazing, yeah?”

With Niall’s infectious enthusiasm and Louis’s steady encouragement, the day starts to look a little brighter. You feel a spark of excitement as you all head out, ready to take on the task together. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all.

…

The nursery has become ground zero for chaos. What started with Louis and Niall quickly spiraled when Niall decided to text the rest of the boys, and now your small house is filled with One Direction in full, uncoordinated action.

Zayn is unpacking boxes at lightning speed, scattering items across the floor with no apparent organization. Harry is flipping through wall color samples and making dramatic pitches about the “calming energy of sage green,” while Liam has somehow become the self-designated foreman, holding a clipboard he found somewhere and jotting down “essential steps.”

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the whirlwind with a mixture of amusement and mounting irritation. “Are any of you actually doing something productive, or are you just here to make my life harder?”

“Oi, we’re helping!” Niall protests, holding up a tiny set of baby booties like a trophy. “Look at these—they’re adorable!”

“Yeah, well, the baby can’t wear them if we don’t have a proper dresser to put them in,” you snap, pointing to the unopened flatpack still leaning against the wall.

“Got it!” Louis says, stepping up and grabbing the box. “Zayn, give me a hand with this.”

“Why me?” Zayn grumbles, but he joins Louis anyway.

As they start fumbling with the assembly instructions, Harry sidles up to you with a charming grin. “You know, love, you should sit down. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“Don’t ‘love’ me right now,” you say, leveling a glare at him. “I’m pregnant, not fragile. And maybe I wouldn’t be so stressed if you all weren’t treating this like a circus!”

Harry holds up his hands in surrender, his grin never faltering. “Noted.”

From the corner, Liam clears his throat. “Alright, team, let’s focus. We’ve got a crib to assemble, a dresser to build, and a lot of decorations to hang. Let’s divide and conquer.”

The boys spring into action—or rather, varying levels of action. Niall and Harry are surprisingly efficient at assembling the crib, though they keep breaking into fits of laughter. Louis and Zayn bicker over which screws go where for the dresser, and Liam is busy taping up a diagram of the “ideal layout” on the wall.

You sit down in the corner with a sigh, your irritation ebbing slightly as you watch their antics. Despite the chaos, there’s something endearing about how hard they’re all trying.

Niall looks up and catches your eye. “You alright over there?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though your tone is softer now.

“Good,” he says with a wink. “Because this room’s going to be perfect, just you wait.”

By the time the afternoon rolls around, the nursery is actually starting to take shape. The crib is standing proudly in the corner, the dresser is fully assembled (though slightly wonky), and the walls are adorned with a mix of shelves, photos, and baby-themed decorations.

You find yourself smiling as you inspect their work. “Not bad,” you admit grudgingly.

“Not bad?” Louis repeats, pretending to be offended. “Love, this is a masterpiece!”

“It is,” you say, and this time, your smile reaches your eyes. “Thanks, guys. I mean it.”

The boys beam at you, their camaraderie making your chest feel a little lighter. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might actually be okay.

…

At 36 weeks pregnant you’re standing in the living room, rubbing your lower back and silently cursing how heavy and tired you feel. Louis has been oddly insistent about keeping you distracted all morning, encouraging you to take a long bath and pick out something comfortable to wear for what he cryptically called “a little outing later.”

But as you waddle into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, you hear a sudden burst of noise behind you.

“Surprise!”

You freeze, turning slowly to find the living room filled with familiar faces. Louis is at the forefront, grinning from ear to ear, and behind him are Niall, Zayn, Harry, and Liam, all looking ridiculously pleased with themselves. But it doesn’t stop there—Louis’ mum, Johanna, is there too, along with his sisters, and even a few of your mutual friends. The house is decorated with pastel-colored balloons and banners that read “Welcome Baby Tomlinson!”

Your hands fly to your mouth as a flood of emotions rushes over you. “What is this?”

“It’s your baby shower, love!” Louis announces, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “Figured you deserved to be spoiled a bit.”

“More like a lot,” Niall says, pointing to the dining table, which is groaning under the weight of gifts, snacks, and a massive cake shaped like a baby bottle.

“You’re all insane,” you mutter, but your voice wobbles with gratitude.

“Insanely good at keeping secrets,” Harry teases, handing you a mocktail garnished with fruit.

The next couple of hours fly by in a blur of laughter, games, and heartfelt moments. The boys take every opportunity to dote on you, fetching your drinks, snacks, and even a cushion for your back when you sit down to open presents.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” you say, carefully tearing into a brightly wrapped box while everyone watches. Inside, there’s a tiny blue onesie with the words “I Get My Charm from Daddy” printed across the front.

Louis grins proudly. “That’s from me. Accurate, isn’t it?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “Of course it is.”

Zayn’s gift is next—a beautifully illustrated baby book that’s both sentimental and stylish. “Thought it’d be nice to keep track of all the little moments,” he says casually, though you catch the warmth in his smile.

Niall presents you with a custom plush bear that has ‘Baby Tomlinson’ embroidered on the paw. “Figured I’d get a head start on being the favorite uncle,” he says with a wink.

“Don’t start that war, mate,” Liam warns with a chuckle, handing over his gift—a baby carrier that looks both practical and impossibly sleek.

Harry, ever the joker, gives you a pair of baby sunglasses. “Because no child of yours and Louis’ is going to leave the house without style.”

The highlight of the day, though, comes when Johanna stands to make a little speech. “I just want to say how proud I am of you both,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to be amazing parents, and I can’t wait to meet my newest grandbaby.”

Her words bring tears to your eyes, and when she pulls you into a warm hug, you cling to her tightly.

As the afternoon winds down, you find yourself leaning against Louis on the couch, surrounded by laughter and love. He kisses your temple and whispers, “Happy?”

“More than happy,” you murmur, your hand resting on your belly as the baby gives a little kick in response. “Thank you for this, Lou. It means everything.”

“Anything for you,” he says softly, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

…

The house is finally quiet, the baby shower a beautiful but exhausting memory. You’re lying in bed, your head nestled against Louis’ chest as his fingers trace soothing patterns over your belly. The day’s excitement has left you both drained but content, his soft kisses to your hair a gentle lullaby as you drift toward sleep.

But a sharp, tight sensation grips your abdomen, pulling you out of your haze. Your breath catches, and you sit up suddenly, clutching your belly.

“Louis,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s instantly alert, sitting up beside you and flipping on the bedside lamp. His blue eyes search yours, his expression calm but concerned. “What is it, love? Are you in pain?”

You nod, wincing as another wave of tightness washes over you. “It’s—it hurts. I think it might be contractions?”

His face softens with understanding, and he places a steadying hand on your arm. “Alright, take a deep breath. It might be Braxton Hicks, yeah? Practice contractions. Remember, the midwife said they could happen.”

“This doesn’t feel like practice!” you cry, gripping his hand as another cramp rolls through.

“I know, darling, I know,” he murmurs, shifting closer. “Let me help. Come on, let’s get you in a warm bath. It’ll help relax those muscles.”

You nod hesitantly, and he helps you to your feet, steadying you with a supportive arm around your waist. In the bathroom, he quickly fills the tub with warm water, his hands working efficiently but gently as he adds a bit of lavender bubble bath to soothe you further.

“Come on, love,” he says, helping you step in. The warmth engulfs you immediately, easing the tightness in your belly and the tension in your back.

“Better?” he asks, kneeling beside the tub, his hand slipping into the water to gently massage your leg.

“A little,” you admit, leaning back against the edge and closing your eyes as the heat works its magic.

Louis doesn’t leave your side for a second. He rests on the edge of the tub, his hand skimming soft, lazy patterns over your wet skin. He presses kisses to your shoulder, his lips lingering as though trying to will the pain away.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice warm and full of awe.

You open one eye, giving him a tired but wry smile. “I don’t feel very amazing right now.”

“Well, you are,” he insists, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your knee. “You’re carrying our little one, love. That’s nothing short of magic.”

The cramps begin to subside as the water soothes your body, and his tender care melts away the fear that had gripped you.

When the water starts to cool, Louis helps you out of the bath, wrapping you in a soft towel and guiding you back to bed. He dries you off with gentle precision, then helps you into one of his oversized shirts, which feels like a warm hug against your skin.

“Let’s get you comfy,” he murmurs, tucking you into bed and slipping in beside you. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you close so you’re nestled against his chest.

His hand finds your belly again, and he begins to draw those lazy patterns once more, his touch soothing and grounding. He peppers kisses along your hairline and murmurs sweet reassurances into your ear.

“You’re doing so well, love,” he says softly. “I’ll be here every step of the way. You and me, yeah?”

Tears well up in your eyes at his tenderness. “You’re too good to me, Louis.”

“Not possible,” he replies, grinning as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

The combination of his warmth, the bath, and his calming presence lulls you into a much-needed sleep. Even as you drift off, you feel his hand on your belly, steady and protective, like an unspoken promise that no matter what, you’ll face it together.

…

A week later the clock strikes two in the morning when you’re jolted awake. The sharp pain in your lower abdomen pulls you from a restless sleep, and you sit up with a gasp, clutching your belly.

You try to breathe through it, thinking it’s just another Braxton Hicks contraction, but the pain intensifies quickly, coming in waves. The rhythm is different—this isn’t like anything you’ve felt before.

You glance over at Louis, who’s still sound asleep beside you. His peaceful expression gives way to your growing panic. You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but the contractions hit again, stronger this time.

“Louis,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He doesn’t stir. You try again, louder. “Louis!”

This time, he bolts awake, eyes wide as he sees the panic in your face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“I think… I think it’s happening,” you manage to say between breaths, gripping the edge of the bed as another contraction hits.

Louis’ eyes widen, and without missing a beat, he jumps out of bed, already grabbing his phone to call for help. “Alright, love, breathe. We’ve got this, okay? Just breathe.”

You nod, though it’s hard to focus with the waves of pain coursing through you. “Louis, it hurts,” you gasp, pressing your hands to your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

He comes back to the bed, kneeling in front of you. “I know it hurts, love. Just keep breathing with me, alright? Focus on my voice.” He places a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “I’m right here. We’re going to get through this.”

You try to focus on him, on his soothing words, but it’s hard. The contractions are coming faster now, and you can’t seem to catch your breath.

“Louis,” you whimper, “I need to go to the hospital. It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

He looks at you with determination, his voice calm but firm. “It is, love. We’re heading there now. I’m gonna call everyone, okay? Just focus on me. You’re doing amazing.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as another contraction hits. You lean into him, your breath shaky as the pain pulses through you.

The next few minutes are a blur—Louis calling Niall, telling him to head to the hospital, getting you dressed, making sure everything is in the car, and keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

As he helps you out the door, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’re so close, love. You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You try to smile, but another contraction grips you, and you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“Just keep breathing, love,” Louis says, his voice low and comforting. “We’re almost there.”

The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever. Louis keeps talking to you, his voice steady, telling you how amazing you’re doing. You focus on his voice, on his hand holding yours, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming pain.

By the time you arrive at the hospital, the contractions are constant, one after another, no more than a minute apart. You’re sweating, your face flushed, but Louis never lets go of your hand.

He’s right beside you as you’re checked in, his hand on the small of your back as he rubs soothing circles to calm you.

The nurses lead you to a delivery room, where everything starts to blur together. There’s the constant beeping of monitors, the bustling of the staff around you, and Louis’ voice, always in your ear, grounding you.

“You’re doing amazing, love,” Louis says again, bending down to kiss your forehead. “You’re so strong. I can see it.”

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as the pain increases, but you’re too focused on getting through it to cry. The room feels small, the air thick with tension, but there’s a sense of comfort in Louis’ presence.

After what feels like hours of agony, the doctor finally says it’s time.

“You’re doing great,” the doctor reassures, giving Louis a nod. “We’re just going to take it one step at a time. You’ve got this.”

Louis kisses your forehead once more, his hand holding yours tightly. “I love you, so much. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

With his words, you push through the pain, ready to meet the little one who’s been growing inside you for all these months.

As the contractions intensify, you grip Louis’ hand harder, feeling like your body is being torn apart with every wave of pain. The pressure is unbearable, but Louis is right there, steadying you with his calm presence. His hand is firm around yours, his voice never wavering as he speaks soothingly.

“You’re doing amazing, love. Just breathe. I’m right here, okay? You’ve got this,” he reassures you, his face a mixture of love and concern, his eyes locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

The pain is all-consuming, but you focus on Louis’ words, his warmth, his touch. Every breath feels like it takes everything you have, but you know you’re not alone. Then, just as the pressure becomes too much to bear, Niall bursts into the room, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

“You’re doing great!” he says, his voice full of encouragement as he comes to stand beside Louis. His presence offers a little relief, a welcome distraction from the pain.

Louis gives Niall a quick nod, but his focus never leaves you. “Just breathe, love. We’re almost there. You’ve got this.”

The next contraction hits hard, and you squeeze both their hands, digging your nails into their palms as the room spins with the intensity of it all. Louis whispers words of love and support in your ear, trying to ground you. But it’s so much, so overwhelming, the pain, the anticipation, the excitement.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe out, tears streaming down your face, your chest heaving with each breath.

“You are doing this,” Louis insists, his voice fierce with love. “We’re almost there. You’re about to meet our little boy.”

That one word—boy—takes your breath away, filling you with a new burst of strength. Your baby. Your son. The thought of holding him in your arms keeps you going.

With a cry of effort, you push through the next wave of contractions, your body straining against the pain. Louis is right beside you, his hand in yours, Niall standing next to him, both of them encouraging you through it.

“Just one more push, love,” Louis says, his voice barely a whisper, but it’s all you can hear. His forehead presses against yours, his hand stroking your hair, his words like a promise. “You’re so close. I’m so proud of you.”

Another contraction comes, and you push with everything you have left. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but the relief that comes afterward is indescribable. You feel the shift, the pressure releasing, and then you hear it.

The sound of your baby crying fills the room, and your heart stops for a moment. The tears well in your eyes as you look up at Louis. “We did it,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Louis’s face is lit up with awe and love. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then looks down at you, his voice full of emotion. “We have a son, love. Our beautiful boy.”

The nurse gently places the tiny baby on your chest, and you can’t help but gasp as you look at his tiny face, his little hands. He’s perfect in every way.

Niall steps forward, his voice shaky with emotion. “He’s beautiful,” he says, his smile wide and full of joy. “Congrats, guys. He’s a little champion.”

Louis leans down, brushing his lips against your temple, his hand resting softly on the small of your back. “I love you both so much,” he whispers. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

You look down at your baby, tears streaming down your face as you hold him close. Louis is beside you, his hand in yours, and you both gaze down at your son, a love more overwhelming than you ever thought possible swelling in your chest. This is your family now. And in this moment, you couldn’t be happier.

…

A little while later, the door to the room opens gently, and one by one, the rest of the boys filter in, their faces lighting up as they take in the sight before them. You and Louis are lying together, exhausted but content, with your tiny son nestled between you. He’s already asleep, his little hands curled into tiny fists, his face serene and perfect.

Harry is the first to speak, his voice soft and full of wonder. “Mate,” he says, his eyes glistening with emotion, “he’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Zayn steps forward, his usual calm demeanor giving way to pure awe. “He looks just like you, Louis,” he murmurs, a gentle smile on his lips as he leans closer to get a better look at the baby. “This is incredible.”

Liam looks at you both with pride in his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. “Congratulations, you two. He’s going to be so loved. He’s got an amazing family.”

Niall stands just a little behind the others, his eyes wide with excitement. “I can’t believe it,” he says, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “You guys are parents. This little guy’s going to be spoiled with love from all of us.”

Louis, still beaming, glances over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “It’s the first One Direction baby,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s going to be loved by all of us—by his uncles, his mum, his dad.” His voice breaks for a moment, and he looks down at his son, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, Louis,” Harry says with a grin, giving him a playful nudge. “And you, too,” he adds, turning to you. “You’re gonna be the best mum ever.”

The boys gather around the bed, their attention completely captivated by the tiny little life you and Louis created. There’s a lightness in the room now, a quiet joy as they all take turns peeking at the baby, their voices filled with excitement, pride, and the unspoken bond they all share with him already.

“You’ve all got to teach him all the good stuff,” Niall says, his eyes twinkling. “Like how to play guitar, of course.”

“And all the best football teams,” Zayn adds, winking at Louis. “We’ve got to teach him everything we know.”

Louis chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving his son. “He’s going to grow up surrounded by love. I can already tell he’s going to have all the best role models.”

Liam places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, his expression sincere. “He’s going to be one lucky kid, with all of you around him.”

You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling as you realize just how much love is in the room for your baby. Your son. Your beautiful boy is already surrounded by a family who will protect him, guide him, and love him with everything they have.

And in this moment, you know that your little one is going to grow up with a support system unlike any other, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Louis kisses your forehead, his hand resting on the back of your head, pulling you gently against him. “We did good, didn’t we?” he murmurs. You nod, feeling every ounce of joy and love in your heart. You did good. Together, you made something incredible. And as the boys laugh and chat around you, you know this is just the beginning of an incredible journey for your family.

…

Author’s note: I hope you guys enjoyed this mini series!

[astrolook]

💖🌸 Venus As Darakaraka - A Ceritified Lover 🌸💖

Read Mercury and Mercury Rx as Darakaraka!

Note: These are just my personal observations and recurring patterns I've noticed over the years from married clients, relatives and friends. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. Feel free to share in the comments if any of this hits home. This post is based on Vedic astrology.

Venus as Darakaraka - When the cosmos says “you’re into vibes, not resumes.”

When Venus is your Darakaraka, your partner is likely to be romantic, artistic, and deeply invested in self-care. They take pride in their appearance, from skincare and haircare to choosing the right perfumes and clothing. Their aesthetic sense extends to everything they do, whether it’s curating their wardrobe, decorating their space, or engaging in creative pursuits like music, painting, or writing. Some may even enjoy growing their own veggies or gardening.

Your spouse will have big dreams of owning a beautiful home, ideally a spacious one with manicured lawns, a pet, and children. They are self-sufficient and willing to spend on themselves, whether it’s for beauty treatments, skincare, or perhaps even the occasional indulgence in luxurious experiences. Cooking might also be one of their talents, as they enjoy both creating and sharing meals.

Visually-oriented, they appreciate beauty in all forms, from movies and fashion to travel and cultural experiences. Expect them to love trying new restaurants, exploring different cuisines, and shopping for clothing from various cultures. Professionally, they may be involved in industries like media and entertainment, cosmetics, electronics, real estate, retail, hospitality, or consumer goods.

Their relationships with family are also noteworthy. They might have a sister they are very close to, who is more chatty and playful but equally supportive of you. Your spouse will take pride in a clean home and may get irritated by small inconveniences. If they are financially comfortable, they might hire a maid for cleaning and chores but still maintain high standards of cleanliness. However, when they’re feeling down or depressed, they may neglect themselves, possibly overeating or skipping meals, losing interest in personal care.

Fertility is strong with Venus as Darakaraka, so starting a family might happen sooner than expected. If protection was not used before marriage, an unplanned pregnancy could be in the cards. Your spouse (for husband) may sport either a clean-shaven look with smooth skin or a well-groomed beard, maintaining their appearance with pride.

For a wife, expect someone who is fertile, healthy, and carries a well-proportioned body, often with medium to long hair, fuller lips, and thick eyebrows. They might also be prone to hyperpigmentation and love receiving compliments about their appearance. They are not ones to shop at thrift stores as they prefer quality over quantity and are willing to save up for their favorite items.

When it comes to relationships, they have a high libido, and might either enjoy romantic movies or indulge in crushes, fantasizing about being the lead character in a love story. With their natural charisma, they tend to attract attention, and you might have to deal with that even after you’re together. If Venus is placed in the 6th, 8th, 10th, 11th, or 12th houses, be cautious, as they may be prone to extramarital affairs, particularly in fire or water signs.

Venus in the 7th, 9th, 11th, or 12th houses can indicate a partner from a different culture, someone you may not initially find your type, but who you feel an undeniable, fated attraction to. When Venus is in the 1st house, your spouse will likely treat you like a king/ queen or the other way around, making you feel like the center of their world and vice versa. Venus in the 2nd house will indulge you, sometimes to the point of spoiling you or encouraging excess, particularly in food and drink. Venus in the 3rd house loves taking you out on frequent dates and showing you off to their friends and family. If Venus is in the 5th house, you’ve found a perfect life partner like someone who could also be an amazing parent similar to 7th. Venus in the 8th house suggests wealth through marriage, possibly an inheritance, as your spouse is likely to be financially well-off and generous with their resources.

💫 Venus Combos and What They Say About Your Spouse 💫

💚 Venus + Mercury - Expect a younger, baby-faced spouse who may be significantly younger than you. They're witty, charming, and possibly into writing, painting, or other artistic hobbies. If Mercury is retrograde, they might be more reserved in love or less experienced in relationships, but still very talented and expressive.

☀️ Venus + Sun - Your spouse could have a higher social or professional status, admired by many and naturally stands out in a crowd. Think someone confident, radiant, and maybe even self-employed or entrepreneurial.

🌙 Venus + Moon - This combo? Literal beauty/ handsome. Your spouse will have a stunning face, glowing skin that reflects light, and lush, healthy hair. They're soft, nurturing, and emotionally in tune.

🔥 Venus + Mars - The chemistry is 🔥. Your spouse radiates raw sexual energy and may unintentionally turn heads everywhere. They're likely fit and active. In some cases, this combo can bring intense attraction and occasional temptations for them outside wedlock.

🌍 Venus + Jupiter - Foreign connection! Your spouse might be from a different culture, and they love the finer things in life like food, drinks, luxury. If Jupiter is retrograde, the foreign influence still stands, but you may be the one introducing them to indulgent pleasures or spoiling them with your taste.

⏳ Venus + Saturn - Age gap alert! Your spouse could be older, but there's definitely a maturity contrast. If this pair is in the 7th, 9th, 11th, or 12th house, a foreign or long-distance connection is likely. If Saturn is retrograde, the dynamic flips as your spouse could be child-like and laidback, while you take on the more mature, grounding role.

Next Post will be about Mars as Darakaraka!

Wanna dive deeper into your chart's layers? ✨🔍 DM me for a full astrology reading, a 5 or 8-year marriage report, or a detailed synastry breakdown 🌙💬 Check out my pinned post for pricing and more info 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐💖

[nocturn-warrior]

I ALL THE THINGS I'VE SHOULD DONE• 🔅

Alucard x reader

Summary: You are pregnant with your first born with Alucard and he has been overprotective over you, but during one night he a jerk tries to assault you. Alucard and your friends kick his ass.

Warnings: angst, SA mentions, abortion mentions, violence, jealousy at Greta, pregnancy, crying (but ends up with fluff), my bad grammar and text similar to a 12 years old's writting fanfic (english is not my first language) and bad dialogues.

Note: month of the three milks is may in medieval calendar, puiuţ is a nickname romanian parents call their babies and it means baby chicken. Most of the titles of my fics are based on Kate Bush's songs or song quotes. This one is taken from This Woman's Work

You were so excited taking care of Sypha and Trevor's baby. With his mother's big blue eyes and his father's jet hair, he was the cutest thing in the world. Everyday, your heart beated faster to the thought of having a child of your own with Adrian; a little baby to light up your lives and bring joy to that enormous castle again, but it took months for you to start trying for it. There are too many children around, the village orphans would be jealous if we had a baby. You would squash off the idea to yourself with a silly excuse. Actually, you feared having a child would have a reverse effect. Alucard was still mentally fragile and you rememberer his breakdown nights, where he wouldn't close his eyes to sleep until the sunrise. But one day it happened, and when it happened you and Adrian couldn't contain the happiness, though your hearts were still full of doubts.

Immediatly you started to work on your unborn's room, asking the villagers carpenters to reform Adrian's childhood bedroom and redo the furniture just like the way he remebered, since it all was destroyed during that last fight. All except that little wolf plushie which you storaged in the wardrobe. Alucard was surprised when you, after the nursery was finally finished and you both were decorating it with paintings and toys Adrian crafted himself, came in with the plushie and placed it over the little crib. He could feel a tear forming into his eye in that very moment.

"H-how did you..."

He stuttered, holding the toy almost as if he was checking out to see if it was the original one. You chuckled and said:

"I kinda stole from you so many days before Trevor had his hero moment. It was too cute to stay all dusty and forgotten in a wooden box. What is his name, by the way?"

Alucard sniffles the toy for a while, it smells like childhood. Like comfort. Smells like a time that will never come back, but he is happy it will belong to his child now. For that, new memories will be builden up. He finally answers, sitting on the small bed with you and caressing the toy's fluffy head.

"Lupi"

The dhampir smiled as his eyes wandered across the bedroom: it was exactly like he remembered. With his drawing skills, it was easy to picture everything in paper and intruct the carpenters.

After two long years, the village was finally built. Settled in the Belmont ground, it was full of small but cozy houses, a small fair, and a graveyard to honor their lost members. They were grateful for everything, and for that they decided to make a big celebration, in the day of their protector saint, Sara Kali, who is also the protector of pregnant women, for the exhiled and despaired ones as well.

You, Alucard and your friends were invited to such a beautiful moment, since you four had a big role in providing that people comfort and protection during and post the nightcreatures attacks.

It was 24 in The Month Of the Three Milks and you were 5 months pregnant. At first, Alucard was a little hesitant about attending at the festival; besides he cherishes the comunity so much, he feared you made too much effort or that all of these sounds, scents and feelings would be overwhelming to you. In his core, he wanted to go of course, but your safety was more important.

"Are you sure, my darling? You need to rest, you and the baby. Greta and the others will understand if you don't attend"

He tenderly argues, placing a hand on your waist as you look for a proper dress to use in the occasion in your big wooden wardrobe.

"Adrian,"

You drop the pieces of clothes to cup his cheeks, his amber droopy eyes looking towards yours as you explain. How could you take that pouty face of his seriously in that moment? You contain a chuckle.

"I am fine. My sickness doesn't affect me anymore, and some fresh night are will be good for me. You worry too much"

Adrian looks down presses his hand over your growing bump, trying to feel the child. He's been obsessed with it, constantly asking you if his puiuţ, as he constantly reffers to your baby is awaken and active.

"They are quiet this afternoon, my love."

You answer, placing your hand over his colder one. He says nothing, thinking about the festival and if taking you was a good idea until he breaks the silence:

"Let's find you a dress to wear, i will do your hair"

Your eyes light up, filling his heart with joy. Alucard adores to see you smile and beam with happiness, specially now that your mood changes so frequent. Any wrong word can cause an endless angst in this sensitive head of yours. He doesn't complain, though. After all you did for him in those dark gloomy nights, is not just his duty but also his wish to take care of you.

The two of you mess around your clothes, trying to find anything that feels comfortable enought for you to wear all night long. You try this, try that, but all of your formal gowns feel tighter and constraining around your stomach. Trying the last one with no success, you leave a deep sigh and plop yourself on the bed, laying with your limbs spread:

"Alright. Forget it. I accepted my fate: we are not going to the festival."

Though you had a silly smile in your face, Adrian could tell you were very upset with the fact no dress could fit you propperly now, and standing up in silence while looking at your hopeless expression, he takes a hard decision. Entering or seeing his parents' personal objects was a challenge he has been avoiding for two years. That's why most of them were gifted to the people from Danesti. They shouldn't be in there storaging must and moths. He gave it all, except some.

"Actually, i think there are still some dresses that belonged to my mother when she was pregnant. My father kept her belongings, and i couldn't get rid of them yet"

The joyful expression returns to your face as Alucard gives the problem a solving, you quickly sit up again and smile excitedly at him. For a while, you wonder why he kept exactly his mother's pregnancy dresses. Was it because he already planned everything? He could have given them to Sypha years ago. But you don't question it, you just nod and stand up, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Adrian. But you don't have to do it, if it's too hard to see her things again."

He gently shushes you, raising your hand and placing a wet kiss over it and ressuring he would be alright. Adrian tells you to stay in your bedroom while he looks into an old wooden chest, containing some of his parents' remaining belongings.

Minutes after, he cames in with a beautiful red dress, larger in the stomach and breasts part. It's oppulent silk bounces as he moves smoothly, placing it over the bed.

"Here. Try it on. I might do some adjusts on it's sleeves or cleavage if you want me to. We still have time"

He smiles at you, and standing up, you grab it to try on as he said. You inspect it's fabric, the dress has a slight musty scent due to all of these years it spent untouched, but it's alright. You quickly slip off your undergarments and put the dress on. Alucard expectates for the final result, arms crossed and eyes wandering across you changing body. It looks so beautiful, like a goddess of fertility.

"It feels tight in the arms"

You raise up your limbs, proving your point. The long sleeves restrict your movements. Lisa had a more slender figure, you guess, so it would really feel tighter in some of your body parts. Alucard approaches you, adjusting some pieces of the fabric and turning you around to check out the clothing

"I can cut them for you, my dear"

The solution comes without hesitation and you are surprised. He would modify his mother's relics just because of you. The hesitation came from your part

"Do you really mean that? Love, this belonged to your mother"

He playfully scoffs and lifts up the silky hem of the gown, helping you to take it off so he could make the necessary adjusts

"If there was something my mother was not attached to, was material wealth. Plus, it's for the wife of her son i am doing that. Don't you worry, it's just a dress"

Adrian removes the dress from you completly and with the lines and needles, he starts to work on the sleeves as you sit on the bed, waiting for it to be finished.

One hour and a half later, your dress is finally adjusted and fits perfectly. Now, you two should take a shower, get perfumed and elegant for the event so important to your friends of the village.

Adrian does your hair as promised: he braids it and finishes with a ribbon matching the color of your dress. He ties your shoes and you help him folding the hem of his trousers. Now passing through the giantic doors of the castle, you two head to where the festival would be settled.

Arms interlocked and faces enlighted by the rising full moon light, you catch a sight of Sypha and Trevor sitting on a wooden bench, their son Simon is running around with the other kids.

"He is already running. Years ago this boy was just a..."

Words fail with excitement, seeing your nephew toddling and interacting with other children. Alucard completes the phrase, placing a hand on your bump.

"A little bean. Just like our baby. Soon, he or she will be joining them. Ooh, it seems like he is sticking a frog into his mouth!"

As Alucard finishes, you can see from a afar, Sypha rushing to stop the toddler of eating a frog. You giggle, already imagining the adaptations in the castle you and Adrian shall do to prevent your own kid to hurt themselves.

Trevor see you two approaching and, taking a large sip of his ale, he places the cup aside, facing you two.

"Hey, i thought you two wouldn't even come. Y/N, you have to try this ale. This shit is a drop from heavens!"

By his tone, you could tell your friend was already drunk. Alucard intervines with a calm, yet slightly sarcastic tone, cracking his whip:

"You are not trying to make my pregnant wife drink alcohol, are you, Belmont?"

"I forgot this detail"

He snorts, shrugging and turning his attention back to his beloved ale. Since Simon was born, Trevor and Sypha had made a promise he would never drink again, but today is a special occasion so they gave it a break. Talking about Sypha, she returns to the place, holding the willful Simon on her hip and smiling as she spots you and Alucard.

"I can't keep an eye off from this boy, it's like he is the exact copy of his father. I can't keep an eye off of him as well. Trevor, you are already drunk?"

She places her free arm on her hip, facing the sitting man who denies it, with his clearly intoxicated tone.

"Gods, i don't know why but i still love you that it hurts!"

She chuckles, sitting by her husband's side and releasing Simon from her arms before she finally talks to Alucard and you.

"Your bump is already so big, my dear Y/N! Bigger than last week. Please, cherish this moment, becsuse after that you will deal with back pains and ankle soreness due to this little human growing in there"

Sypha looks tenderly at your belly jutting against the red silk of your dress, and then at her own son who rushes to "uncle Lulu", as he calls your husband.

"But it's all worthy."

You were so excited by seeing your friends that didn't even paid attention to the festival decoration. It was beautiful, full of colors and good scents comming from the food. The women wore their traditional clothes, children ran around the big fire settled in the middle. The tawny moon enlighted everything, making the scenary even more breathtaking. Alucard conduces you to sit over the bench and accomodates himself by your side as well.

"What do you think, love?"

He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek

"Beautiful. I love how their people, even after so many troubles and distress, found a way to put everything together"

The food scent was inviting, you spot a plump old lady holding a large plate of something you judged to be sarma, placing it over the large table along with other food. An increasing desire starts to take over you, and Alucard notices your fixated gaze. He chuckles, placing a hand on your belly before standing up.

"Are you two hungry? Stay here, i will get some food. Will you guys want something as well?"

He looks at Sypha who shakes her head, and at Trevor who says nothing but a grunt that Alucard reads as a no. You watch your dhampir walk graciously towards the table abundant with food, greeting the people as he approaches it. Resting your elbow on your knee and your chin on your palm, you don’t notice how head over heels you are until he comes back holding a bowl and speaking to you so sweetly:

“Here, my dear. It’s still warm”

Alucard sits by your side and you glance at the bowl full of sarma; a meal made of cabbages and stuffed with meat and rice, a typical dish of the people from Danesti. He grabs a forkful and takes it towards your mouth, waiting for your approval. You chew up the bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alucard’s smile increases when you leave a satisfied groan and nod your head. He places the bowl on your lap, allowing you to occasionally feed him as you two chat with Sypha.

Some children from the village spot you sitting in there and rush towards the bench. As expected, they were quite excited about the baby on the way, always competing between them to touch your bump and feel their new “sibling”. After all those little ones passed through, you were happy to see them play around. You see in their faces, the future of that community like flowers blooming after a long winter.

“mother, mother!”

A little girl grabs the hem of your silky dress, trying to get you attention and climb up to your lap, followed by other three kids who fight for their places. Noticing the mess they could make, Alucard grabs the bowl you hold and tries to calm down the hectic little ones.

“Woah, woah, calm down, Delia, Elek. Let your mother breath.”

He adverts the two sassiest ones with his firm wet warm tone, gently pulling them away as they chitter.

“But father Alucard, I want to feel the baby!”

They argue and you can’t resist to their pouty faces, sensitized by your mood changes you intervene into Alucard’s rebuke, accepting their little excited hands to touch your bump. Your husband doesn’t protest back, he knows how stubborn you are and how these children love you, but as you allow Delia to climb up onto your lap, he can’t help but feel apprehensive the girl would make too much pressure over your belly. You can see the disappointed expression in her face as she roams her palm around your stomach but isn’t able to feel nothing.

“The baby is sleeping now.”

You whisper, tilting up her little chin and smiling pacifically. Alucard admires your ability to calm down these children, always so patient and warm. Delia seems to understand the situation and climbs down from your lap, turning to her little friends and communicating the state of your baby. Still, the kids wouldn’t give up and keep fighting for your attention. Alucard knows that gently pushing them away wouldn’t do much good and gives up, so he lets it be. Sypha, noticing your discomfort calls one the children’s name and says:

“why don’t you take little Simon to play around a little, Delia? Hey, but don’t allow him to eat any frog!”

She adverts as the little girl gives up on pesting you and quickly takes your nephew’s hand, guiding him off from Sypha’s lap.

“nor any cricket or moth!”

“Alright, aunt Sypha!”

The small group of children leaves the four adults alone, in a mass of giggling and screaming mess. You can breathe finally, laying your head over Alucard’s shoulder and watching them move away, secretly hoping your baby takes after you and your husband, and doesn’t come to be so hectic like their future peers. Chatting with your friends about your adventures and about parenthood, most of the conversations end up with mocking Trevor. You guys are really taking advantage of his intoxicated state to make fun of him. The weather is pleasant and the crackling fire sounds relax you.

You hate it, but a snort leaves your throat when one of the children approach again, rushing towards Alucard this time at least. The little boy has in his face the expression of the messenger of a king, and speaks while panting, leaving Alucard slightly worried. You fear something bad has happened, as well.

“father Alucard, Greta wants to talk to you.”

The request was not urgent or a life or death case, but the woman’s name has sent you some discomfort into your heart. It’s not like you hate Greta: she is not as close as Sypha is to you, but she is still a friend and you recognize the importance she has to the community, yet you can’t help but feel insecure whenever she is around. Even though it’s been two years since you and Adrian are together, even though you are pregnant with his child.

The blonde man places a quick kiss on your cheek, swearing he will come back as soon as possible and stands up, guided by the child towards the house Greta awaits for him. You observe him adjusting the collar of his shirt as he approaches, and you see Greta come out through the door. Even from meters afar, you notice and admit how gorgeous she looks in that traditional dress, her dark hair and bronze skin glowing under the moonlight, and the wind seems to bring her perfume to you. Almost if it was teasing your jealousness and provoking your feelings.

The leader greets Alucard with a tight hug and in this moment your heart slightly sinks. Ruminating about their possible conversation topic, you convince yourself she is just thanking him for the support he offered during these two years, and not complimenting his beautiful amber eyes or his soft blonde locks you combed yourself. She drags him to inside the small house, followed by other two villagers.

Your fists close, you start to bounce your leg in anxiety and Sypha who is much an observer, places her hand gently on yours and leans in, looking at you with tenderness:

“Y/N, calm down. He is going to talk to the elder ones. You have nothing to worry about. Greta isn’t stealing your man.”

She speaks in a laid-back tone, softly caressing your hand. You turn to face your friend but you can’t contain the concerned expression. Sypha chuckles a bit, not mocking at you, but finding your feeling extremely valid. You protest:

“I-I am not jealous, Sypha. I just---“

You can’t find better words to describe your feeling, so you just give in to Sypha’s moral lesson.

“You are jealous, Y/N. I can tell it by the pout in your face. But you know what? That’s completely understandable, dear friend. You are going through a lot of changes all over your body, it’s pretty normal.”

She leans in a little more and whispers in tone of secret:

“when I was pregnant, i argued with Trevor about anything. Even ale itself made me feel jealous of him”

Your friend takes your hand once again and continues:

“what you need to know, is that Alucard loves you no matter what. It wasn’t Greta who held him every night when his nightmares tormented him. It wasn’t Greta who took care of him at his lowest, my dear. Adrian loves you and he doesn't hide it"

You know Sypha meant every word, but why did you feel like Alucard would eventually get tired of you? Why did you think Greta would charm him with her strong sense of leadership and athletic phisique? You try to focus on something else ignoring the burning jealousy increasing and consuming your brain and on Sypha's trying to cheer you up.

You finally see Alucard step out from the cabin he entered with the leader of the village, his beautiful face beams with happiness as he chats something unhearable. Greta pulls him closer to where other young women beautifully dressed in those tradicional patterns organize themselves to start the dancing, he is probably greeting them.

The young men start playing the instruments, and the ladies dance in the rhythm. Seeing your husband idly moving his shoulders, you expect for the worst to happen. Greta takes him by his hand and starts teaching him how to move smoothly like the dancers, twirling around and expecting him to do the same. Adrian doesn't give a single glance at where you are sitting, he seems to be hypnotized by the moment.

You stand up and feel Sypha's tight grip on your wrist. You look down at her as she asks softly:

"Where are you going"

"I need to pee"

You force a smile and even if it was your intention, Sypha knew you were distancing for other motive. But she doesn't intervene, though. She just releases your wrist and focus on Trevor who seems to be in an alcoholic catalepsy by her side.

You walk towards the latrine behind the village, holding up the hem of dress so it wouldn't get stuck in the ivies underneath. Leaning against the wooden thin wall of the cabine, you feel an increasing heat take over your face and thick tears drop down from your eyes. The music of the festival sounds distant, but you can hear the people's laughing and cheering.

The crickets and night birds seem to be the only spectators of your breakdown until you hear a hoarse, unfamiliar voice approaching you.

"Why are you crying, beautiful lady?"

You pull up your head from the wall, turning to where the voice comes. The light of a torch reveals the silhouette of a man who limps towards you, speaking in an alcohol intoxicated voice.

"A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be here, all alone. Did you know the nightcreatures are still around?"

He laughs in a mischevious tone, spitting on the ground. Getting closer and closer, he sees your face and his eyes widen up, a smirk forms again in his face:

"Are you the dhampir's wife?"

You've never seen that man at the village, he has been here due to the festival, you guess. You gulp, shortly nodding your head:

"Y-yes, mister."

The man stays in silence for a while, his eyes roaming through your body like he he was chosing a piece of meat until they linger on your belly.

"You are pregnant! You are carrying that evil's seed! Your husband's race only brought disgrace to this land. This thing you carry in your womb is cursed, it has a cursed blood just like it's genitor. You are nothing but catter for that demon to spread his offspring"

Your heart sinks at the tone he speaks to you, his intoxicated breath stinging in your nose as he approaches. You can't move, your body freezes as he says:

"I will put an end on it"

He completes with a sly grin, spitting on the ground again:

"And insert mine inside this pretty belly of yours"

You try to run, but the man grabs you by your middle and starts to run his filthy hands across your cleavage. Where is Alucard? You stood with him during this thundery years and when you need him most, he is entertaining himself with Greta. You fear for your child as the man's fingers press deeper against your skin.

"If you screm, it's gonna be worse. They can't hear you"

The man whispers and all you can do is whimper.

All the while, Sypha watches the movement of people, the colors of the dancers' dresses twirling and the instruments sounds echoing to inside the forest. It's been 5 minutes and you didn't came back. She fears leaving you alone was a bad idea.

Her attention turns to Alucard who after chatting with the villagers and receiving their grateful compliments, happily heads to the bench eager to reunite with you. His face drastically changes noticing only Sypha (and a dozing off Trevor) are in there.

"Where is Y/N?"

He asks the woman, a concerned expression in his face, and he could see a slight frown or worry in Sypha's forehead, but she didn't want to alarm him by mentioning her concern.

"She went to the latrines minutes ago"

For a while, Alucard feels a little upset with your friend. She shouldn't have let you go on your own. He stays in silence for a while, deciding if he should go after you.

Your vision gets foggy by the tears, and you can't tell if the music stopped or you are just falling out of consciousness by the terror, but as the sounds of instruments finally fade completly, you scream in agony, hoping someone can hear you plead. Hoping Alucard could hear your plead.

Alucard's pupils shrink as he hears your recognizable voice and before Sypha could even ask him if he heard that too, he desappears in a figure darker than night, smoothly directing itself to where the sound of you came from. Sypha rushes after him, already closing her fists, ready to use her powers.

The drunken man slides his hand down to your womb, roughly pressing his thumbs onto your skin. You groan, tears falling down your cheeks. He is going to take the life of your so expected puiuţ.

The trees and people speed distorted as Alucard in his fog shape rushes in your rescue. His heart is filled with an unnatural rage, something he never felt before as he sees that filthy bastard hurting his beloved. Something similar to what his father might felt.

The dhampir materializes in front of the man, pushing him with anger against the stone wall of a house, the bastard couldn't even tell what was going on until he feels Alucard's piercering eyes, red as flames staring into his and his sharp fangs so close to his neck as he hisses like a serpent.

He was about to take his life when a sharp disc of ice cuts the bastard's skin. Alucard swiftly looks back and sees Sypha rushing towards you as you fall on your knees, sobbing. His attention then turns back to the man who feels the dhampir's fangs almost touching his throat.

"I am not marking this date so important for the villagers with your filthy blood. But get to know: if you touch my wife once again, i open your abdomen and wrap your guts around a tree with you alive."

This words doesn't seem to be spoken by your sweet Alucard. For a while, it feels like his father's anger for human kind took his mind and manifested phisically using his body.

He releases the drunk who limps florest inside and his eyes shift back to it's beautiful amber pigmentation, now filled with tears as he sees you broken on the ground attached to Sypha's shoulder, sobbing in shock.

"Shh... it's everything alright now, Y/N. He is gone"

Your friend rubs your back soothingly and helps you to stand up, but your arm never leaves hers until Alucard approaches, stretching his arms open to embrace you.

"Y/N! I am so sorry. I've failed you"

"H-he tried to kill our puiuţ..."

You whine and he rests his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. He couldn't save his mother years ago, he couldn't save his father from his own madness. If he lost you to such an avoidable way, he couldn't forgive himself.

Sypha's heart sinks seeing her two friends in such a broken state. She hugs you both tightly and recomforts you, guiding you back to the festival.

No one of you including Trevor who was sleeping to the lullaby of alcohol had mood to continue in the village that night, going home was the only option. Your friends would sleep in the castle.

You didn't exchange a word way back to home until you silently opened the doors of your chambers and slowly slipped off from your dress. In the oval mirror, you could spot the two marks caused by the agressor's hands. A lump forms in your throat again, it's been q while since you don't feel your child, you fear the worst happened.

Alucard cames in, wrapping his arms around you though he hesitated for a while. He kisses your cheek and kneals down in front of you, pressing his ear against your belly.

"Can you hear it? The heartbeat... can you still hear anything?"

You speak, trying your best to not to cry being so aprehensive about his answer. He lingers a little, shifting his position and lowing down his breath.

"I can hear it."

He looks up at you, a sigh of relieve leaves your body.

"Our puiuţ is safe."

Alucard stands up after placing a kiss on your belly and wraps his arms around you, wiping away your relieved tears. You hug him tightly, sobs muffled by his chest and his tears fall over your hair as well.

"That was my fault"

You silently climb onto bed after calming down from the overwhelming night you had, and after minutes, he finally breaks the silence.

"It was my fault. If you or our baby got hurt, it would be my fault"

You didn't want to rub salt into the wound though you knew the incident was directly linked to the fact Alucard left you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you listen to his apologize.

"I should have known you would be pissed off with me because of Greta, but it was not my intention. Forgive me, darling. I promise i will never leave your side ever again"

He turns to face you with those droopy amber eyes, tears tangled between his long eyelashes and he blinks for them to follow their flow. You cup Alucard's cheek and gives him a ressuring smile. You couldn't be mad at him.

"Accepted"

Seeing Alucard have another breakdown was the last thing you wanted to see. He wraps his arms around you, hand resting on your belly like a shield as you sleep in a deep slumber, lulled by the wind knocking on the window.

[rs-hawk]

I submitted the idea for day two and I just wanted to say I loved it so much! I’m a huge fan of your work and really appreciate you indulging us with your talent ♥️

If you’re still taking B&B ideas, I love the idea of the Beast using the magic mirror and it always showing Belle. And he, frustrated by what he sees, shaking the mirror like a magic eight ball, but it allows for him to learn about her and fall for her.

But also… Beast having a hard time taking off Belle’s ball gown with his big claws, so she gives him a strip tease and leaves him high and dry as payback for ruining her other dresses.

Use whatever you like, or none at all 😊

Okay crying?? Thank you so much. I love getting to write and the fact that I get so much love is sometimes overwhelming. While I'm not making enough off my writing to live off of, the fact that I'm making anything is amazing to me. I appreciate it more than I can say that you enjoyed it enough to request another post. It's like that old meme "They like me. They really like me!". Lol. Anyway, Day Five 😭 ❤️

CW: this post contains graphic depictions and smut. This is intended for an 18+ audience. Knotting, excessive cum, talks of pregnancy, light pain and blood, etc

After the previous day’s encounter, Belle was too embarrassed to see Beast. She just wanted a small break. Her feelings about him were still so mixed up, and she was so sore that with every step she could still feel how he stretched her. It made her cheeks flush red every time she thought of it.

“Belle, the Master requests you for dinner,” Cogsworth announced outside of her door.

“I’m not hungry. I don’t feel very well,” she called out, curling up on her bed.

The clock did his best to encourage her to come out, but ultimately, he gave up. Just as her wardrobe did. Her pussy ached to feel the Beast again, but she knew that she could never go and ask him for that. Her head was still spinning from the day prior, especially the surprisingly tender kiss they shared. Absent mindedly, her fingers grazed her lips, still swollen and puffy from their shared kisses.

When Beast found out Belle wasn’t coming, his heart sank. Had he hurt her? Or did she not enjoy herself as much as he had thought? Growling to himself, he stalked back up to the West Wing. His claws curled around the mirror he held.

“Show me my girl. Show me Belle,” he asked of it.

The mirror obliged after a moment, showing Belle in her bed. Her fingers were on her lips, a small smile tugging at the corners. The sight made his heart skip a beat. Was she thinking about him? She laid in the bed, one hand slipping under her blanket. Was she touching herself? If she was, was she thinking about last night?

In annoyance, he shook the mirror. “Give me a better view!” he demanded of it, shaking it as if that would chance the angle he was shown.

Of course it didn’t, so in frustration, he tossed the mirror aside. Yet, after a moment, he picked it back up. He spent the rest of the night watching her, and from then on, every moment she wasn't with her, he was watching her. He saw the things that made her laugh so loud she snorted, and that made her just give a small half smile. He was obsessed with that mirror because he thought that that was the only way that he would ever be close to her again.

Eventually she was able to be around him again without feeling like she was reliving the feeling of his brutal pace once again. When Mrs. Potts set up a date for the two of them, she shyly agreed. The wardrobe helped her get dressed, but she knew the basics of how to take it off. It would just need to be slightly loosened. Just enough for her to be able to pull the cords from. The underclothes were easy enough to take off.

After the dance, she was happy to be close to him again, as he was with her. The mirror lay forgotten in his room. He only had eyes for the gorgeous woman standing in front of him, her gloved hands caressing his arms, his fur.

"Do you want to come back to my room?" Belle asked in a soft voice, knowing that the wardrobe would scamper off at the sight of the Beast, leaving the two of them alone.

A low groan left his throat as he nodded, "Yes."

The two of them practically sprinted to her room, him scooping her up in his arms when they got close. Just as Belle predicted, the wardrobe ran off out of her room as Beast came in. With a gentleness that made Belle's heart soften even more, he set her on the bed. His claws immediately were on her gown, trying to undo the intricate lacework of the corset top.

After a few moments, he huffed in frustration. "Why do these things have to be so difficult?"

He raised up a paw, clearly to just rip the dress off of her, but she jumped up. "No! It's gorgeous. I can take it off myself."

Beast relented, feeling bad for upsetting Belle again. He hadn't thought of how she would feel getting a gown that was so high quality, and then him immediately wanting to destroy it. "Alright."

Belle smiled. As she slipped off her gloves, tossing them onto the bed besides Beast, she thought about how the last time they were alone together, he had ripped her dress. Her favorite dress. Maybe she could show Beast how it would feel to no longer have something you enjoyed.

A mischievous idea formed in her head as she slowly began to undo the dress in the back. Maybe she could get back at him, teasing him just a bit. Sure tomorrow she might feel a little guilty and give herself to him, but for tonight, she wanted to be at least somewhat in control.

Beast's hungry eyes followed every movement of her body. The way she slightly jutted out one hip as she was unlacing the corset. The way her hands ran down her waist after she dropped the gown to the floor. When she had gotten the hoop and underskirt off, leaving her in little more than a glorified ruffled one piece, she made her way over to him.

His mouth was watering as she closer to him, dropping the remainder of her clothes to the floor. The air between them was almost thick enough to taste. However, when he reached for her, she stepped back.

"What are you doing?" he asked in an almost hoarse voice.

Almost coyly, she smiled, leaning over to grab a simple nightgown that she had set out before she left. Slipping it on, she smoothed it out, hiding what the Beast considered the glorious sight of her body. "I'm getting ready for bed. I did enjoy seeing you like this tonight though. Maybe we should have breakfast together."

Stunned, frustrated, and a little confused, he started to protest as Belle led him out of a room, but she shut the door in his face, silencing any further protests. At least he had the mirror to watch her as he touched himself. Maybe she would touch herself for him too. At least then he would get something out of tonight.

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