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illyrianbitch · 1 month ago

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Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rhys was trying to be serious.

He truly, truly was.

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore.

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing.

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement.

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all.

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered.

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her.

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more.

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up.

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?”

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.”

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you.

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy.

”Can I see it?” You asked.

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.”

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye.

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you.

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm. “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.”

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip. “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious.

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache.

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence. “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow.

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said.

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care.

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.”

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Another pause.

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision.

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed.

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else.

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?”

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it.

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out. Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort.

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt.

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned. For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved.

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more.

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now.

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray. A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn��t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words.

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry.

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more.

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed. “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh. He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest.

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.”

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple.

You’d done it for Azriel.

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair.

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel. “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now.

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different.

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke. You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?”

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said.

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say.

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene.

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion.

“So... how do I look?”

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Five

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon @glam-targaryen

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

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@booksaremyescapeworld @knoxic @wynintheclouds @dacrethehalls @louisa-harrier

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st4rbwrry · 13 days ago

Text

𝓢𝓦𝓔𝓔𝓣𝓔𝓢𝓣 𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓝𝓖. eren yeager.

❤︎ . . . 12k. fem!reader, set in 03’, established relationship, pregnant!reader, southern!eren, domesticity, difficult pregnancy / doubts, home birthing, marriage / vasectomy talk, mention of healthcare discrimination, lots of crying, oral ꒰ f. ꒱, gentle sex kinda, lots of kisses! + affirmations, praise, thumb in bootay, unprotected, sensitivity play, choking, lactation ‘n eren tastes it oopsie, nasty talk, creampie, pet names ꒰ sweetie, baby, mama, papa ꒱, spanking, daddy kink. minors aren't allowed! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . officially obsessed w this couple so i couldn’t help myself by writing a third part teehee. happy belated valentine’s day <3 visual.

baby . . . i’m lonely. think i w’na baby.

a conversation starter like that would only skyrocket the heart rate of any husband. eight years of marriage with just each other, and three with the addition of honeybelle, including the fifteen chickens, four piggies, and two baby goats on the farm alongside two of the cutest tawny cows you named tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. every moment felt rewarding, so you questioned lately why you felt so . . lonely. for the longest time you didn’t quite understand what you were missing. the life you lived with eren was perfect. it was romantic, soft, relaxing. you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

tending to the animals on a warm sunny day, you hum tunes to yourself as the goats follow and nudge at your toffee cowboy boots, giggling and picking juicy strawberries from their stems, enjoying their company. waffles, the tan goat with blotches of white rolls serenely in the grass while the other, miss daisie, who’s an all black goat with an almost heart-shaped spot on the surface of her skull, screams and sniffs at you, craving your attention. occasionally, you’ll reach down to give affection to satisfy her.

a brown woven basket rests on the dip of your forearm, feet traveling along the iridescent field and dropping the fruit into a sea of fresh vegetables pulled off their roots from the garden, collecting just enough to make a few meals that require them.

that day you had an interesting epiphany. the gravel in your front yard dances along the tires of a red pickup truck that pulls into your home. a sweet friend of yours named bea drops by with her three-year-old toddler, jason. the tiny human dressed in dark washed overalls with a teal shirt underneath, and boots whom she lifts up and rests on her hip before entering the home.

“ ꒰♡꒱, darling. missed you so much. how are you?” instantly, she’s embracing you into a tight hug, pulling away to admire your looks.

whenever she sees you, you’re radiant. cocoa skin, a shade darker than the last time she saw you, courtesy of the suns kisses. in few sections, your raven curls are wrapped in flawless fairy locs, styled half-up into an unruly bun. a silver heart locket containing your infamous black and white wedding day photo where eren dips you low in front of a willow tree around your neck, resting on the heat of your skin radiating a fragrance of vanilla bean. the minimal hairs on your body fuzzing up when the sunlight hits where you stand by the massive bay windows overlooking your landscape.

almond irises and beautiful full lips, slightly taller than bea by a full foot. rustic boots, an ivory flowy skirt that sits well on your curvy hips and cascades down to your ankles, pairing it with a white laced top and a matching bandana atop your head.

“i’m doing good. up to my usual pastime of holding down the fort and cooking,” you beam, scanning her from head to toe. “you look gorgeous, how are you and the family?”

bea’s a gorgeous woman. you notice her face is a bit chubbier, adorable pointed chin, button nose, and curly auburn hair that rests on her shoulders. caramel complexion, light voice and the prettiest hazel eyes. her son is an exact replica of her, catching a glimpse of the angel she made as he giggles and plays with honeybelle, her two inch tail wagging as she chases him around the dining room.

“jason’s doing pretty well, we’re just coming from a doctor’s appointment, actually. just found out today that he’s going deaf in his right ear,” bea builds up the courage to weakly smile, your body pausing its movement from situating dried dishes, needing to get dinner started for eren.

“oh my goodness, i’m sorry to hear that,” frowning, you hold a hand over your heart, the sadness in your eyes unable to shield. “how are you taking that?”

“it’s okay, i’m okay. his overall health is what matters most to me. things like this are just something you have to prepare for being a parent,” she nods, glancing at her son. “he’s still happy as ever.”

“right,” you purse your lips. “that’s good. i’m glad. he’s a sweetheart. and armin?”

“yeah, he’s great. been working a lot more lately, for good reason. gotta cold right now so he’s been restin’.”

“oh no, i can drop a pot of chicken soup tomorrow if you’d like? i know you’ve got that conference with the ladies at church comin’.”

bea takes a seat at one of the wooden chairs you have placed against the kitchen island, resting her chin into her palm as she graciously pouts. “you are the sweetest, ꒰♡꒱. i see why eren’s so smitten of you.”

warmth flows to your cheeks from the mention of him, never changing.

“the man’s a sap,” you roll your eyes, wedding ring shining in the light as you go to retrieve ingredients from the fridge alongside a gift you had for her.

“oh! almost forgot,” pulling out a basket, bea gasps as you place it in front of her.

the basket contains fresh milk from the cows placed into a carafe with a swing top to secure it, decadent, fist sized blueberry muffins you baked yourself, of course, wrapped in beeswax paper decorated with butterflies and leaves. even a few red apples and oranges picked from the garden, bea’s favorites.

“oh, honeybee, bless your soul. thank you!”

you bow your head. “ ‘course, i told you i’d have a lil’ treat for you.”

grabbing a few extra base ingredients; packaged seafood from the farmers market and a bottle of wine, you go to pour yourself a glass. “you w’na glass? i’m makin’ a big pot of seafood gumbo if you w’na stay and have dinner with us. eren’s been craving it.”

“ooh, i’d love to, but armin wants us home before sundown. he gets really fussy about me taking long distance drives without him, especially with jason.”

“awe, he’s protective. eren’s kinda the same. he has a heart attack every time i run out for something. he taught me how to drive ‘bout two months ago, but i’m still kinda rusty. got me that buggy out front.”

“i did see it! that’s the cutest car ever. it’s about time you learnt how to get on the road.”

you shrug. “my anxiety was kickin’ my ass for the longest. i can still be his passenger princess. he knows not to get comfortable,” you grin smugly, the two of you sharing a laugh before you reach for the second glass for bea, only to have her wave her hand to reject.

“no wine for me, thanks. i can’t.”

“mm? how come?” brow raising in curiosity, you push the cork back inside, resting a hand on your hip that you pop out.

the dimple in her right cheek sinks in as she draws her lips inwardly, hands going down to her stomach, rubbing in a circle motion with bright eyes. your eyes dart from her baby bump she hid well underneath her black dress, up to her eyes again in shock. gasping, your hands go over your mouth.

“no fuckin’ way! oh my god, another one?!”

“another one! we’ve been waiting to tell everyone, but i’m ’bout four months out.”

“holy shit, congratulations!”

rushing around the counter, you give her a hug, rocking side by side. “oh wow, that’s such good news. does jason know?”

“not yet, i’m kind of scared to tell him. although he’ll notice when i start blowing up. he likes his own company. a sibling is a big change.”

“i can understand that, i haven’t any siblings so i adapted to that. i wouldn’t mind having a sister or somethin’.”

“what about you?” bea suddenly questioned.

as you begin to chop up veggies, you stare at her confused.

“a baby. you guys been married for a long time. never thought about it?”

that’s the question of all questions, one you’ve avoided your entire marriage. of course, it’s been discussed, the second year of your relationship actually. which is why you were strict on birth control given your equal sexual infatuation. it was too risky, so you took the safe option. for the longest time all you ever wanted was him, your home, and your animals. a baby was never in mind. you found it nauseating to think of, actually.

“it’s been talked about once or twice, but never to a point of coming to an agreement. eren’s okay with how our lives are now, and frankly, so am i. i don’t see a baby for us, or any time soon. i don’t dislike them, but i’m not so sure if i’m fit to be a mother. there’s a lot of sacrifices that come with that.”

bea nods understandingly, deciding to chalk the conversation and talk of other things. as you stir the roux until you get a perfect chocolate color, you chat with her until the sun sets, occasionally glancing at jason who sits on the ground coloring in his book, fluffy blond hair tousled around his small face. you can’t help this odd feeling in your chest as you look at him, even when hearing bea talk about the new baby. you can’t shake that hunch that maybe, just maybe, it could be a possibility. far away from now that is.

seeing your husband walk through the front door to greet your friend and kiss you on the cheek, attired in work clothes and watching him interact with the child with the widest smile on his face made your chest clench. tickling him after washing his hands, giving high fives and engaging in conversation with bea as he sits on the floor with him, right leg propped up while his large body leans down to color with him.

it almost made you tear up, wondering how he’d be with your child. he’s an amazing man, and your positively sure he’d be an even better father. it was a tough decision. the good thing about eren is that he was an attentive listener, action based, willing to understand your feelings and concerns while coming to a conclusion, knowing you have such a bad habit of closing in. so it made it easier to come to him about a lot of things that weighed on you.

sending off bea with a container of gumbo, you both say your goodnights to her, eren watching as she enters her car safely and drives away before shutting the door and pulling you in close for hugs and smooches. after having dinner, cleaning up and showering, in the plushness of your king sized bed, candles lit and law and order on play, that’s when you bring the conversation up while applying shea butter to your legs anxiously.

easing in slowly, you decide to test the waters by saying something that, even though you were unsure of, was technically a true feeling.

“baby . . . i’m lonely. think i w’na baby.”

maybe you weren’t fit to be a mother.

maybe this was punishment. that sinking fear you had for the entirety of your marriage about having children was right all along. you were scared. maybe this baby hated you, knew you weren’t the right person to bring them into this world. that’s why it’s been giving you the worst pregnancy known to man. or maybe your body just wasn’t built to carry a child.

countless of doctors, a therapist even, and no one fixed that insecurity within the chromosomes of your brain. morning sickness should never start with ‘morning’, because it’s all day, every day damn near. you can’t indulge in your favorite foods anymore, walking is painful because your feet are blown up and you can no longer fit half of your closet. you cry almost every single day, and you feel bad because eren constantly worries about you. it’s just as upsetting for him.

the incessant fatigue, headaches, backaches, occasional pelvic pain, heartburn, and multiple obgyn appointments of them telling you that all of your symptoms were normal, that there was nothing to worry about. neither of you were fond of the idea of taking tons of medications, and it became not only exhausting, but you felt embarrassed by how many times you had eren rushing you to your primary doctor.

the first trimester seemed to be the most difficult period to which you experienced the most discomfort. you figured it was natural given your body has never been in this state before, it’s slowly transitioning. this wasn’t just a period with regular cramps, you were creating a child inside of you. that itself was terrifying, yet exciting. because in the end you know it’ll be worth it. to see both of your faces morphed into one angelic being crafted out of love. this was your first baby, so of course you were preparing for possible difficulty. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad.

you’d spend days on end researching and finding other women whose experiences were the same. it eased you to some degree to discover you weren’t alone. then came the third trimester, and the horrible symptoms you faced from the start reappeared. you believe it’s because you were getting closer to birth.

hating the way your mind conjured up the worst thoughts, you found yourself falling into depression. eren did his best to make sure you had everything you needed. taking time off from work to tend to you. he wasn’t the best in the kitchen, and sometimes you’d have to come help him, much better on the grill. even the extravagant ones he tried to surprise you with. though most of the time you could only eat half before you started to get nauseous.

he took care of the farm, carried you up and down the stairs, stayed up half the night at times to study healthy exercises to practice together, and continued therapy with you. he made the process so much better. always kissing you, telling you how beautiful you were even if you didn’t feel it, gave you massages and ran you baths. even if all of it was sweet, you felt like a weakling. like he was your caretaker and you were an old ass lady.

only he’d reassure you after you weep and sniffle in your hands by saying, “mama, i’m your husband. i’m deeply in love with you, ‘n will always be. the very least i can do, especially when you’re doing the hardest fuckin’ part which is carrying our child, is take care of you. so stop all that cryin’ and come cuddle.”

times when check ups were happy days, and you could see your baby on the monitor as the nurse rubs the transducer over your overgrown belly, that vertical dark streak on the middle the cutest thing eren’s ever seen, often kissing it as he placed his ear to your belly to feel the baby kick — turned bad. the baby was healthy, that was the great thing. sitting low in your belly just ready to be out the womb. it’s when the pain pummels harsher that causes concern.

one day they’re telling you that your fine, then the next you’re having trouble breathing, sleeping, horrible tailbone pain and even worse pelvic pain. you think the worst part of it all is seeing the repeated stress on your husbands face. the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, forehead creases, brittle hair, it broke your fucking heart. to see him sitting beside you as he irritably bounces his right leg while clasping his hands together and leaning forward in an almost scolding manner. listening to the nurse reexplain shit you’ve heard too many damn times.

their methods weren’t working, and no matter how many times you expressed how you felt, it feels like it went through one ear and out the other. taking notice of it mostly when you came by yourself, and instantly you knew something was off. so you started coming with eren. you’ve lived in this town for more than eleven years, on the outskirts of georgia at that. at times you forget that not everyone’s empathetic, or open to the idea of you as a black woman. a pregnant one at that. you refused to take any more medicine. if an emergency labor needed to happen, you were willing to do whatever it takes.

then, eren finally snaps, because he knows it’s deeper than surface level shit.

“there have been too many occurrences where my wife has informed y’all multiple times about the pain she’s experiencing, and y’all brush it off ‘n tell her to go home, sleep it off, take this medication, rest. at this point, i’m startin’ to realize y’all aren’t listenin’ to her pain. you’re blatantly ignoring what the fuck she’s saying, and i don’t mean to get disrespectful, so excuse me for my mouth, but i’m fed the fuck up.”

“i’m sorry, mister yeager. there’s not much else we can do but see how her body responds to —”

eren hastily stands to his feet, and your eyes bulge in slight fear, reaching to grab his bicep as he keeps his focus on the perinatologist, surprise in his eyes from eren’s defense.

“i couldn’t give less of a shit ‘bout any of that. the only, and i mean only time y'all show her some form of care for her health is when i’m here. every time when i’m not, i’m hearing stories ‘bout how y'all sending her home tellin’ her she’s fuckin’ fine when she’s not fuckin’ fine. i have to see this shit firsthand, not you. i know exactly what the fuck this is, do not play with me.”

what makes this out of the ordinary is that you’ve never heard eren raise his voice in your life. whenever he was upset, he usually spoke in a stern, collected manner. this made you uncomfortable, the bellow of his tone and even the shock in the nurse’s features. swallowing, you pick yourself up to outstretch your hand over your heavy belly and slowly slid off the geri, eren’s head cautiously knocking in your direction regardless of the tension in the room to help you.

his hand goes around your waist, giving you a look to ask if you were good before you nod in response, too embarrassed to eye the nurse and apologize out of uneasiness. that would only drive eren mad, knowing he’d tell you not to apologize for shit because he didn’t deserve it. he could see it written on your face. you were too damn kind to those who weren’t worthy.

“let’s go, baby. you are never comin’ back here. y'all better be damn lucky i ain’t suin’ y'all.”

the day was so vague you could remember him holding your hand as you waddled to the car, rubbing your belly and staring at the back of his head in silence. knowing he needed it for a minute. he secures you in before sitting in the drivers seat and sinking back to meditate, eyes shut and chest carefully rising and falling. nibbling at your lip, you rub his arm to transfer your soothing energy. your touch makes him crack a weak smile, turning his head as he lays back to stare at your pretty face.

eren rubs his thumb over your hand, bringing it up to kiss the back of it. “i’m sorry you had to see me raise my voice. i don’t like gettin’ outta character in front of you. you know that.”

“it wasn’t uncalled for, your emotions are valid. i appreciate you for protecting me. i think i’ve long accepted that not many people care too much about specific women’s health. it’s a sad realization, but i know i’ll be okay,” you speak softly, bringing your face closer to his to rest with him. “we’ll be okay. the baby is healthy, and pain is temporary.”

what comes next is almost scarier than this whole ordeal. eren takes a deep inhale, grabbing your face to press his forehead to yours before releasing a trembling breath, tears beginning to stream down his face as he cries. finally. locking it away to stay strong for you. the thump in your chest hurts, really fucking bad. witnessing your husband weep as he holds you, clenching his jaw, sniffling, and choking out a small cough. kissing your lips to tell you he’s okay was sentimental. he just wants the best for the both of you. the pain of a father and a husband.

you’ve seen him cry, only one other time when his father passed away. the grief, hatred, and acceptance encased all into one as you held him in your arms by the fireplace on the living room floor, funeral clothing on you both, letting him take the time he needed. wiping his face, you kiss all over it, rubbing his broad back before giving him a warm embrace.

“it’s g’na be okay, sweetie,” a hand smooths down the back of his head, cringing at the greasiness of his scalp. “you need a wash day.”

both of you laugh in unison, eren sniffling and releasing a guttural ‘ugh’ as he clears himself up. “sorry, papa hasn’t been givin’ sexy, blue collar country boy lately.”

“shush, boy,” you giggle, sitting fully into your seat. you stroke his face, staring intensely into his moss and smoky toned eyes. his lashes are long, hair disheveled into a manbun with tendrils on either side of his bushy eyebrows. the faint line of hair he has directly above his lip always an attractive feature. “you’re always sexy, daddy. even on rough days.”

“mm, i love you, baby. so much,” eren leans in to kiss the bridge of your nose before interlocking your lips, one hand on the wheel as he arches over the center console.

your hand crinkles his white tee, whimpering into his touch when his other hand goes to touch your lower back side, arching you into him, moving your lips with his. “eren?”

“mm,” he groans, mouth getting rougher. “miss you so fuckin’ much. you been lookin’ so good lately, mama.”

pouting, you pull yourself away. “don’t get me riled up, mister yeager. i can’t do what i w’na do to you.”

eren sits back, chuckling as he scratches the small stubble he has on his chin with his thumb, grinning, smile lines deep and teeth bright and perfectly aligned outside of the pointy canines he possesses.

“you right.”

“mhm.”

“all shit aside, pretty. your health is my biggest fuckin’ priority. when we get home, ima order some chinese and we can look more into that midwife bea talked about. huh? that sound good?”

“sounds perfect,” you rub at your stomach with both hands, eren placing his hand there as well as he starts up the truck. “oh, don’t forget that head gettin’ washed. grease bandit.”

“yeah, yeah.”

after a deep, foamy scalp cleanse infused with lavender, eren sits on the fluffy rug on your bedroom floor with a baby pink spa towel wrapped around his head as he types and scrolls on his dell laptop. next to him in a butterfly position, digging into your lo-mein with wooden chopsticks inside the traditional takeout box with a red pagoda imprinted on the front. matcha green jelly eyepatches covering your dark circles, eren wearing some as well.

you’re dressed in a black polka dot camisole with lace trimmings and matching shorts that your body eats up and shrinks. the two of you stay up until one in the morning, taking notes and searching for reliable sources. eren found out that he could get you someone called a doula, who will provide you with medical guidance and emotional support during your final stages of pregnancy. booking a few consultations for midwives as well. indefinitely, you felt very optimistic about this. you’d even find yourselves making little image boards for your baby, whom you soon discovered a beautiful surprise from.

you received the envelope a while back, but the two of you chose to wait for the right moment considering the events happening. hand in hand at the bakery a few days later, eren requested a gender reveal cake where he drove an hour out of town back where your father resided to find the willow tree the two of you got married under. laying out a picnic blanket, there showcased the plain oval cake reading ‘it’s a . .’ with half plain for eren and half supreme pizza for you. chocolate covered strawberries to feast on after, and cranberry juice since it was the closest taste you could get to wine.

it wasn’t a big deal to you whether it was a girl or boy, you’d love them endlessly. it would be no greater feeling than to have any baby laying in either of your arms, or the perfect beige nursery you and eren decorated together. you’ll admit you got emotional as both of you held a glass, tears running ferociously down your face, preparing to scoop either side of the cake, awaiting the reveal.

“oh my god, oh my god. i’m scared. this is scary.”

“eight months of pregnancy, and this what you scared ‘bout?” eren lifts a brow, your mouth curving up as you pop his shoulder. “꒰♡꒱! c’mon. i w’na see, girl.”

“okay, okay. whew, i’m sorry. i’m ready.”

pushing your glasses into the cake with eyes shut tight, you slowly pop open one eye to see the color, gasping and bouncing in your spot at the pink inside, weeping and wrapping your arms around eren’s neck as he rocks you side to side in happiness.

“it’s a girl, it’s a girl!”

screeching in his face as you plop back down, you see the tinge of sadness on his face, furrowing your brows as he blinks away his tears that were coming too fast for his liking.

“sweetie, what’s wrong?”

eren sniffles, clenching his jaw and turning his head out of view. “i’m g’na need another gun.”

sucking your teeth, you nudge his shoulder. “oh, boy!”

burying his face in his hand and wiping his eyes, eren chortles. “i’m serious, two precious things to protect, oh my fuckin’ days i’m g’na have a heart attack. the fear. gimme sum water.”

“erennn, stop! asshole,” the laugh coaxes out of you, seriously watching his features as you pick at the hem of your dress. you know he’s dead serious, but you want to make sure he’s happy about it. “is a girl not what you wanted?”

eren almost malfunctions. “are you kidding? a baby is what i want. i could give a damn ‘bout the gender. fuck, she’s g’na look just like you. the prettiest face.”

that makes you cry again, mushing your lips with his passionately and squealing excitedly.

after your picnic, eren took you to speak to your mother at her gravesite, awakening her tombstone by adding daises and sunflowers. you update her on the past few months, apologizing for not speaking to her for a while since you’ve been occupied, and mentioning how much you adored eren who currently spoke to his mother at her stone. it was refreshing, a mental cleanse.

inquiring a midwife and doula was the best decision for not only your pregnancy, but your marriage. strictly requesting a top holistic woman of color for obvious reasons, their methods made you more comfortable in your body, and even anticipated to push out your little bun. the past few weeks have really been a breeze, and you felt so much healthier, and light even though little girl kicked like a motherfucker and sat low as hell.

with each consultation, eren sat by your side to observe every interaction, coming to an agreement after two interviews. whoever you felt the safest to handle you, he was up for it. luckily for you, the doula and midwife were associated under the same company. when they arrived for the first time, rose being the doula, and valeria being the midwife, observed your home and discussed plans on pursuing a home birth.

due to uncertain circumstances, you felt more at peace having your baby in the home where her future will begin. unmedicated and with your husband and people you trusted. they ordered an inflatable tub for you since the moment they stepped into your bathroom and saw the clawfoot tub, immediately shook their heads in disapproval. they even made you get inside to prove why it’d be bad. there wouldn’t have been enough room for you to move when you had to.

the days were flying by, due approximately in three weeks. today was a friday, which also happened to be valentine’s day. it was warm outside, usher’s new album confessions playing soundly from your silver jensen stereo. all of the windows in the home were open, letting in the breeze as you exhale deeply. currently, you were up to another session of stretches and workouts.

“doing good, baby girl! make sure you keep your back straight. twirl those hips for me, we gotta target that girdle pain. work that pelvic area!”

“i’m hungryy,” you manage to weep, hands leveraging your hips as you motion your lower halve in circles atop of the baby pink birth ball.

“it’s ’cause your husband out there havin’ a whole cookout,” rose laughs,

“he always cooks for all the women in the neighborhood on valentine’s day,” your cheek rests on your shoulder from adornment, watching him through the window that faces the backyard where smoke fills the air along with the thick smell of barbecue.

eren’s wearing his favorite fitted black cap with a white embroidered nba logo placed on the nape, shifted backwards on his head, chestnut hair leveled to his jaw in wavy ringlets after giving him a cut. a plain white t-shirt, and dark 501 levi jeans that fit his thighs almost snugly, still giving him enough room to appear loose. the watch you’d gotten him for your fifth anniversary on his dominant wrist as he brushed the ribs with his special sauce while his other hand, paired with a slim silver cuban link, sipped on a budweiser.

it didn’t help that you were practically riding this ball right now while you look at him as he does nothing but grill, drink, and stare at the lake while occasionally checking on you through the window. or, perhaps, the huge belly in your way. zoning out and daydreaming the most disgusting things briefly before you knock yourself out of it, forgetting you have company. he looked irresistible. it’s been driving you off edge for a long time, forgetting the last time you’ve had sex. it had to have been about three months, take away last month when he ate you out on the recliner.

it was so annoying how raging your hormones were ever since you got pregnant. might you add, four months after the ‘i w’na have a baby’ conversation. you were almost sure you’d have sex every time he came home from work. it wasn’t intentional, although you did hold back on your birth control, and condoms weren’t neither of your things. finding out was just a non-panicked ‘uh oh’ when you showed him the test as he sat on the toilet handling business and you brushed your teeth while staring at it the entire time. eren was ecstatic overall.

you wanted him so bad, missed him so bad. he’s been so respectful of your healing process that it makes you hornier at the thought. also, he makes fun of you for being his ‘stalker’ as if you haven’t been married forever, constantly watching him every day. you’ll be reading a book, watching tv, or cooking something you’re craving and there he is mowing the lawn, feeding the chickens, cleaning his truck, on the grill — too many things he does turns you on naturally.

“ ꒰♡꒱?”

“wha—huh?”

“up, chile. we’re g’na do these last stretches so we can have you rest for the day,” valeria chirps, gently clapping her hands together and holding out her palms to help you stand.

“oh, okay!”

“you alright?” rose checks in, ordering a few things you needed for the upcoming labor visit. she noticed you checked out for a while.

clearing your throat, you nod like a bobble head, curving your lips in tight doing an awkward smile. “yeah! i just . . have an . . inappropriate question.”

valeria stands behind you as she lowers you to sit on the yoga mat by your underarms. “i doubt it can be inappropriate. we are nurses, heard everything under the sun. okay. . . starting with happy baby!”

groaning, you steady your breath before raising your legs, making sure they were spread far apart and lowering your knees to your side. being thirty-four weeks and thirty-six centimeters had you feeling like a whale. at least you were a cute whale. you also had an endearing fascination with your belly, often spending time with your daughter by massaging shea butter delicately over her home or having full conversations. it was your soft moments of bonding. so, she was well moisturized all the time, rarely any stretch-marks.

you were fond of your overall growth to be honest. your appearance didn’t change much other than the obvious. your feet were a little chubbier, and your boobs only grew one bra size. skin care was a priority since you were paranoid of a bunch of insecurities, so you glowed and got hundreds of compliments. eren surely had an infatuation with you being pregnant. if the man couldn’t keep his hands off you before, it certainly became an addiction now.

“okay, this is a bit personal. but, me and eren haven’t had sex in like three months. he’s done . . things, even helped me wax her. so i don’t think i’m insecure about how she looks per-say. i was just wondering if it’d be safe to do in the third trimester. my hormones make me feel horny, but i’m kinda scared.”

rose and valeria manage to cackle in unison, a pout on your lips as you raise to do your deep side to side squats, valeria making sure to stay close by for balance. “seriously y’all, i w’na have sex. y’know how much okra water he’s been having me drink? she’s slippery!”

“my god,” rose shakes her head.

“well, the answer is yes, you can certainly have sex. it’s perfectly healthy. just remember to take it slow since you are due in three weeks. little angel could fly out any minute.”

“fly?!” you shrieked.

“jokesss, oh my goodness. don’t scare her, valeria. this is her first baby!”

“sorry, sorry! sex is good! nothing bad will happen. so, have plenty of it. well, not too much though, just enough. you see where these poses got you in the first place,” valeria says, laughing as you groan knowingly. “move into the child pose and we’re all done!”

lowering yourself down to your knees, you get into a doggy position and stretch your arms straight ahead of you, stomach hanging. “i was just thinking ‘bout how much i missed him, and we haven’t fully connected like that in a while. i hold it very spiritually in my mind. i think it will be good for both of us, especially before lil’ mamas gets here.”

“it is valentine’s day. let’s hope he gives you a good ass time. he’s showing off right now, and he’s been staring at your ass.”

that makes you laugh hard, really hard. though instantly after, you feel a sharp pain stab at the side of your hip, wincing and hissing out loud, dropping your head and whimpering from the ache. both women rush by your side quicker than you could blink.

“꒰♡꒱, what is it?” rose asks, crouching to be eye level.

“it’s just that stupid random pinch i get, probably just pulled it a little,” scrunching your face up, you sit on the balls of your feet as your midwife observes. applying pressure to the spot your holding. “she’s a heavy girl.”

“alright, honey. let’s finish for today. you’re probably overexerting yourself. i’m g’na heat up some essential oils and give you a massage before we wrap up, okay darlin’?”

smiling graciously, you nod. “thank you both. a massage would be lovely.”

“who’s givin’ my wife a massage?”

suddenly, your husband walks in, holding up a tinfoil pan of ribs, chicken wings, and burgers. shirt riding up showcasing his dark happy trail, devilishly sharp v-line and the navy blue boxers tight on his skin. he’s watching you the whole time, noticing your upturned face and removing the toothpick from his molars. “mama, what’s wrong?”

“i’m okay, sweetie. i just have some tension in my hip. she might’ve been moving as i was.”

eren approaches you in three long strides, the carabiner with numerous keys among other trinkets hooked to his belt loop hitting against his thigh, soon crouching before you to hold out his hands he’s wiped clean.

“c’mon, lemme help you up. you sure you good?”

“mhm,” he’s lifting you as if you’re still the lightest thing in the world, staring at his body, sniffing his nautica cologne discreetly as he turns to look towards the other women.

“what‘s goin’ on?”

“i’m g’na give her a deep tissue massage before we wrap it up for the day. she’s doing good, just might’ve hurt herself while laughing and stretching.”

“laughing ‘bout what? y’all talkin’ ‘bout me?” eren’s bushy brow arches, slanted eyes finding yours again.

“oop,” rose purses her lips, turning her head.

blushing from his amused tone, you answer, “just girl stuff. it made me laugh.”

“baby, you gotta be careful.”

“i am,” you huff irritably, rolling your eyes. he stares, your mood flipping within two seconds.

“i think one more stretch could help before that. eren, would you mind helping her out?” rose asks.

“sure thing,” he’s pulling you in by your waist. “doin’ the tummy lift?”

“yes sir. just be super gentle as usual. while you hold the baby up, i’ll put some pressure on her hip.”

eren listens to their instructions, standing behind you and pressing your back to his chest. both of his calloused palms lay on either side of your tummy underneath, keeping his focus on your face to stay alert of any discomfort. he practices the breathing exercises he was taught with you, delicately lifting your stomach to give relief to your pelvis.

“mmm,” moaning peacefully, your eyes falter shut as you rest your head back on eren’s chest. he kisses your forehead, valeria crouching underneath, sliding your periwinkle yoga pants down your waist just enough to lather and knead the oil into your flesh.

“is that lavender?”

“yup! lemongrass and chamomile, too.”

“it’s soo good,” you whined, her technique making you want to drool.

“it’ll help with the pain a lot. i’ll make sure to leave some here, eren. you can do this a few more times for her until it’s gone.”

“anything she needs.”

“he’s so sweet and cute, i love him,” you smile widely, reaching up to cup his jaw, eren humming and mushing his cheek to yours.

“the sweetest,” rose agrees. “are you passing out platters to the whole neighborhood, eren?”

“yeah, i usually give it to all the ladies who ꒰♡꒱ is close to, or buy her goodies. i’m g’na make y'all a plate to go. ꒰♡꒱ made some candied yams, and i did the potato salad.”

“it better not be no raisins in that salad,” valeria squints her eyes playfully up at him. opening your eyes, you get what she was hinting at, trying not to burst out laughing.

“nah,” eren chuckles, understanding as well.

“it’s my ma’s recipe. promise, it’s real good.”

“it is, i promise,” you vouch.

“i trust your judgment then.”

a couple of hours had passed until the sun died down. this was your favorite time of the day to unwind. a vinyl on spin, room 112 to be exact. candles lit, the low muffle of the television streaming sex and the city, and the softness of your cloud duvet. as you sip on your cranberry juice poured into a wine glass, cheating your brain into thinking it’s red wine — you rest up against the ten’s of pillows decorated along the headboard to support you. the air conditioning kept the room icy cold like you adored, your hair was tossed up into a messy bun, and a silk pearl robe adorned your skin.

hearing the sound of the shower stop as you write in your journal, you twinkle your toes and gaze up at the ceiling where fifty, yes fifty, heart shaped red and pink balloons floated. just this morning, eren woke you up with the prettiest surprise of breakfast in bed, a pregnant friendly mimosa, strawberries that were cut into hearts, and fluffy belgian waffles with turkey bacon. the room was filled with light, roses spread along the entire bedroom and bedding alongside a giant blooming bouquet of red roses and calla lilies.

the strings sway around the room still from the air conditioner, smiling sweetly as you daydream of the morning, stuffing your face with the breakfast he made and watching him open the walk-in closet to show you the new vintage vanity he’d built for you. the way he showed his love for you could move mountains.

closing your journal, you can’t help but pout as you feel yourself beginning to tear up. you couldn’t stand when all of your emotions would hit you at once. thinking of your baby, your marriage, how difficult this pregnancy started off, and even how much you wished your mother were here to witness and guide you through it all.

“fuckin’ hell,” you set your book on the nightstand where the floral beige lamp illuminated the entire room with light.

whimpering and wiping your face, the small sound causes your husband to whoosh his head out of the bathroom door in fear, toothpaste covering his lips as he stops brushing his teeth, towel draped around his waist and hair sleek down his structure.

“unh uh, what’s wrong, baby?” quickly, he rinses his mouth before coming toward you, your lips curving inward as he leans over your frame with his fists on either side of you.

all you can do is stare down at his towel lewdly showing the imprint of his dick sitting on his thigh.

“huh? talk to me.”

“i’m okay. i’m just thinking about a lot.”

“don’t short yourself. y’know i don’t like that shit,” his jaw clenched, waiting for a real answer.

sighing, you sniffle and sit yourself up higher. eren reaches for your feet to rub on, smoothing his hands up and down your calves. the touch makes you swallow, trying to calm yourself down. he smelt really good, always did but he bought a new body wash that held bergamot undertones. hair appearing darker since it was still somewhat damp. arms full of veins leading to his big hands that grope you. biceps hard at touch. he watches you like a hawk, and to this day eye contact with him makes you anxious.

“um, i just wanted to tell you that i love you. i was expressing myself in my journal about a few things i felt like i needed to say to you.”

“mhm, go on, baby.”

splaying your hands over your belly, your face sets into happiness. “jus’ w’na say i know this hasn’t been the easiest time for either of us, and i wanted to let you know that i put your emotions on the same level as mine. seeing me like that couldn’t have been easy. it weighs heavy on me to this day. i am happy, however, that we found two special women that have made this such a beautiful ending no matter how it started.”

“they’re amazing women, definitely. i’m immensely grateful for them. havin’ you smile again was such a blessing,” eren takes your hand to smooth his thumb over, kissing the back of it.

of course, you’re crying again. “i want you to know that i’ve always, always cherished this baby. i hated those thoughts that doubted me becoming a mother. it haunted me on nights i couldn’t sleep. i . . i l-love our baby, eren. i swear. i love her.”

eren’s heart clenches as you sob, sitting closer to you so he could wrap his arm under your thighs, holding your legs to his hip and leveling his face with yours while still giving you enough space.

“hey, hey, i know that, baby. i never doubted that. you couldn’t control what was happening to you. thoughts like that are normal. this is a big step for you, this is your first baby. everything that you’ve experienced has been normal. rose and valeria even said that those doctors were fuckin’ liars and managed what they couldn’t. it’s so much better now. you’re so much better. i know you love her, and she loves you too.”

nodding, you squeeze your eyes tight, tears pouring down your sweet face. “thank you. i love you so much. i’ve loved every moment of our marriage. i appreciate that we’ve been there for each other for a lot of shit. you make me so happy.”

“and it will continue to be that way. i love you so fuckin’ much, ꒰♡꒱. you make me the happiest man alive. i love our daughter, i cannot wait to see her, and hold her.”

“i know right,” you giggle softly, swiping the back of your hands under your eyes. “she’s g’na be so tiny and smell like baby lotion. i’m sticking with the speculation that she has your eyes.”

“my eyes and your precious face,” he pinches your cheek between two knuckles. “i’ll admit i am scared of being a father. not sure how i’ll be in exact, i’ll try my hardest of course. it’s when she gets older that i worry about. but, i know i’ll be a damn good one. though, only the child can judge whether or not that’s true.”

“i think you’ll be a great father, she’ll love you. as for when she’s older, luckily we’ll have plenty of time until that begins. i just wish our mom’s could see her,” you frown, the distant pain not so distant in meaningful moments.

eren weakly curves up his lip, the look in his eyes mimicking yours; heartbreak. “yeah, i wish they were. good thing is she’ll have her grandfather.”

the thought of your father makes you warm, your relationship with him so much better than it was before. even eren gets along with him.

“he’ll drive her crazy, that’s for sure.”

“i see it now,” eren groans.

“also,” you start, keeping his attention. “i feel like this would be a good time to talk about how i’m never doing this shit again,” the stare on your face is dead serious, scanning his features to find anything negative. “i mean fucking never.”

eren snorts, shaking his head as he chuckles, patting your bare thigh. “baby, i knew that. i’m genuinely okay with one child.”

“you will get a vasectomy,” you speak sternly, squinting.

“i heard you. i’m with whatever my wife wants.”

beaming, you let out a thankful squeak. “yup, thank you papa. you’re so understanding, and so sexyy.”

leaning in to kiss him, you eye the way he dangerously stares at you, licking his lips after and pulling himself back to dig his fists into the bed and spread his thighs wide, knocking his head backwards and scoffing.

“anything else you w’na talk about?”

it dwells on you that you haven’t had that talk in a while, mentioning it earlier to chat about it and see how you felt mentally and physically. eren surveys your mind, how quiet you get as you chew at your bottom lip and study the bumpy path of his abs, thin pubic hair leading down to the towel hiding what you really wanted to talk about if being technical.

olive irises swirling with stormy gray dilating as they scan the silky robe draped around your naked frame. because your legs are sitting halfway up, he lowers his eyes to catch your pussy playing peek-a-boo, tightening your thighs while he clenches his.

“what you w’na do, mama. i can see it in your face,” eren rasps, just waiting for you to say it. he’s hard as fuck right now. can’t help it.

you look radiant, skin well moisturized, lips soft and eyes low. coils of hair flowing around the structure of your face. you smell even better, in fact, he wanted to smell you right now, every where.

lifting himself up, he scoots closer once again, your body instinctively arching into him the moment his hands glide down the top of your thighs, mingling breaths momentarily before his mouth comes to your neck which prompts your legs to spread apart. sucking on the flesh and indenting his fingers into your plush thighs.

“eren,” whimpering, you bring your hands to hold his face, face scrunching up with pleasure as he trails his mouth on either side of your neck, leaving tender bites and heavy licks of his tongue.

“thought you forgot how to speak?” grunting, his mouth falls down to the valley of your breasts, untying your robe and pushing it off your shoulders.

“mm, taste me.”

with desperation, eren runs his tongue between your breastbone, leaving kisses here and there, drawing the side of your tits into his mouth until he reaches one of your nipples. you’re laying back into the pillows, letting him slot himself in between your legs and moaning as you tug on his hair and he guzzles your nipple into his mouth. he’s delicate at first, aware of how sensitive they were to touch.

“fuuck,” eren hisses, slamming his hand on the side of your ass, feeling himself sink into the depths of his attraction for you. how much he’s been needing to fuck you.

twirling his tongue around your areola repeatedly, he heaves over your flesh and tweaks at them with the pads of his fingers, your whines the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. eren could hear the neediness in your voice. the churn of your expressions heated yanks at his scalp making you equally grind your hips, the material of the towel drawing precum from the head.

he’s pulling at your chest with his lips, occasionally nipping the hard buds with teeth, and it makes you blush. what comes next is unexpected. when eren unlinks his mouth, he stares down at your chest to see that you’ve lactated, feeling his face go red at the sight and his dick jump without his control.

“ooo, shit, baby. look,” his brows connect from the arousal he feels, cupping either of your breast and pressing them together, the dribble of white pooling down to his knuckles from them both. it’s a small droplet, but it makes him wanna suck it up so bad.

“oh my god, no!” gasping, you go to cover them in bewilderment, only to have him stop you almost aggressively.

“don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he clenches his jaw, stopping you from the stringent tone of his voice.

“eren.”

“hold still, i won’t say it again.”

soon, his thick tongue is sticking out to do exactly what he planned, to suck you up. moaning from the intense stare he gives your chest, he’s lapping it up hungrily, like he’s been craving it. did he just discover a new kink he had? for sure. and maybe you had it too because he looked so fucking good slurping you up, applying pressure with his lips to potentially draw out more he could swallow. the warm liquid pours onto his tongue little by little.

“ugh, fuck,” eren goes to smack the side of your tit reflexively hard, grunting.

“a-ah, baby,” the palms of your hands shove at his shoulders and he pulls away without a fight.

“it’s sweet,” eren smirks, showing you his tongue before licking his lips and grinning at the shock on your face. “too freaky?”

“n-no,” you bury your face into your forearm. “i’ve just . . i dunno. i’m just sensitive.”

“they sensitive?” he taunts, moving his face to your neck again, peppering kisses and slamming his hand on your ass again. your lower body shifts, clamping your thighs together to squeeze and relieve the throbbing.

“yes,” you respond, reaching for his towel to pull off, making a noise as you stare at his dick standing heavy and angry. needing you in the worst way.

“show me all the places you're sensitive.”

this is a game you loved to play, the excitement brewing in your chest.

“right here,” you motion to your hips by dancing your fingers delicately over them, eren already guessing you were going to say that. you loved having your hips kissed and licked at, it made you so wet.

discarding his towel and your robe off the bed, eren situated himself fully on the mattress, grabbing you by your ankles to pull you down so you're on your back, making sure your head is leveraged on the pillow. his hair covers his face when he lowers himself to your aching hips you raise up with caution, trying not to smack him in the face with your stomach. eren’s mouth starts at the area under your breast, sloppily mouthing and licking until he finds his way to your twitching hips, shuddering loudly when he goes to bite there, a guttural noise emerging from his throat before he’s using the thickness of his tongue to drag at your hips and inner thighs.

“yess, baby. ooo, keep going, please,” your mouth falls open, vision blurring and skin prickling with heat. every touch he gives you sets you ablaze, not realizing you’ve been waiting to feel this for so long.

eren moves his mouth to the other side of your waist to repeat his actions, rushing his tongue over the mound of your pussy before he got there. the simple crusade makes you whine, bucking your hips. his fingers part your legs further apart, almost putting you back into that happy baby position you were in earlier. he takes the pads of four fingers and rubs at your clit in the slowest motions, palm on your hot mound, sinking your teeth into your lip and drenching his fingers with your slickness.

“i can’t, i need that pussy in my mouth,” eren’s grunting, hiking himself up so he can help you sit on your knees.

mindlessly, you let him pick you up, gawking at him as your arms clutch around his neck while he moves some pillows around to make you comfortable, literally clinging to him like a koala.

“stretch forward.”

blinking within a daze, he spreads you on top of the pillows, opening your knees so you’re bent over and arching yourself downwards, stretching your arms in front of yourself, belly cushioned in.

“fuckin’ god, baby. look at you,” his throat is burning, ready to say everything under the sun about you.

the prettiest fucking thing to ever bless his life. your skin looked incredibly smooth, ass up in the air and belly hanging low, painted toes curling anxiously from being seen. those adorable lines etched into your skin under the curve of your ass, and your pussy, bubblegum inside, labia spread open like a butterfly's wings, opening clenching for invitation. shiny with your cum begging to be slurped up. he wanted it so bad his fingers were thrumming to grab you up.

hugging a pillow to your face, you shut your eyes nervously, swaying your ass side to side like a cat because the silence was killing you. if he looked too long he could point out an insecurity. he had to act quick.

“put it in your mouth, eren.”

“i fuckin’ will,” he says with certainty, stroking his hands over the globes of your ass, cuffing his thumbs under the curve of it where it sits on your thighs to spread you open a little more, shaking your flesh and watching your entrance open wider. “fuck, so damn pretty. missed her. she need me? huh?”

when he spanks you again, you whimper feebly, grinding yourself back into his grasp. “missed you, daddy. need you.”

he’s bringing four of his fingers to rub circles on your clit again, an audible ‘shlick shlick’ noise bouncing off the walls from your drenched pussy, eren bending his head to kiss your tailbone, leading his mouth all around you once more. bright teeth resting on your flesh until his tongue and lips follow suit, guiding his face to finally drag his tongue from your clit to your puckering, forbidden star. he never misses a spot, meant it whenever he ate you out that he ate everywhere. the saliva trickling from the toughness of his tongue on your hole which glides down to your folds.

while switching his arm to still rub at your clit, he rushes his heavy tongue along your folds, rocking his head with your ass you move in want, fisting the sheets and dropping your mouth open. “baby . . ooh, god. daddy, want your tongue in me. pleaseplease.”

“unh huh,” he grunts against you, spanking you hard before manuvering his tongue to sink into your pussy, wriggling it to your liking and yanking you back on his face to fuck you on it.

“ungh, y-yess. s-show me how much you love me, daddy,” you moan weakly, voice cracking the further his tongue goes.

“mm-hmm,” with every dip of your ass he follows by stuffing his tongue into you, rubbing his hand up and back towards your stomach until you’re creaming on his hand and in his mouth.

going to reach behind yourself, your fingers tangle into the tresses of his hair to guide properly, throwing your ass back on his face. with every thrash of the heavy anatomy, his hand is iterating harsh hits to your skin. positioning your arms in a plank position, you dip your hips while eren grips there to help you move, a few fingers sprawled over your belly. his lips enclosed on the rest of you with every passing thrust. that familiar warmth begins to swim in your lower stomach, knowing you were going to cum. too quickly.

“noo,” you cry out, tears brimming your eyes. “cummin’ too . . fast.”

eren pulls his face away, sloppy kissing at your inner thighs. “s’okay, baby. cum in my mouth. i’ll get you to cum again.”

there’s frustrated tears pouring from you, sniffling and shaking your head in denial. you felt extremely vulnerable, eren immediately tending to you by massaging your lower back and hovering his body over you. “what is it?”

“i w’na cum with you inside me, please. i just need it that way.”

eren understood without further explanation. frankly, he never needed you to explain yourself when it came to your pleasure. expressing it was all he wanted. you craved for that moment of connection and intimacy. it was the only way you had to have it right now. you’d edge yourself if it meant you could have that.

“anything you want, baby,” licking his lips, he wiped his mouth with his hand before spreading it over your pussy to collect your juices and covering his dick with it. “jus’ one more thing. do it for me.”

eren could almost hear your gulp, his thumb sinking downwards into your pussy while his fingers strum your clit, eren’s face straining from the ring of cream coating his knuckle. dips it in and out a few more times before pressing the pad of it to your anus. “it’s been a min’, so breathe.”

sloshing the head of his dick against your folds, he pushes past that tight ring with his thumb the moment you steady your breath at the same speed he sinks his dick into you. you’re pulsating on both ends, gasping and moaning from the delicious stretch.

“s’good, sweetheart?” eren checks in, halting his movements to wait for your say-so.

while taking a minute, releasing a shaky breath, eren raises himself behind you in a crouching position, balancing on his feet and grabbing the headboard, balls smushed to your clit like a comforting blanket. exhaling, you answer with a soft ‘uh huh, good’ to make him feel at ease. eren’s dick twitches inside of you, halfway in but allowing you to adjust.

“fuck, ꒰♡꒱, lemme stretch you open. need you t’ take it allll in, baby,” he’s persuading you through gritted teeth, eyes scrolling white, trying to control how badly he wanted to drill into your shit right now.

“mmgh, it’s too tight,” you whimper, toes curling.

eren scoffs amusingly. “yeah, i feel that shit. relax yourself, baby. you’re clenching up.”

he runs by the fact that you’re probably not fully broken down, too in your head for a reason he’s unsure about. eren is careful when he takes his hand off the headboard, bringing it to take the back of your neck into his possession. he’s maintaining his balance, lowering his gorgeous face into yours that has your cheek squished into your forearm, the other digging its fingers into the pillow under your stomach.

“don’t feel pretty or sum, baby? is that what it is? you in your head?” eren skids his pink, plush lips over yours, kneading your neck gently and interlocking your mouth with his.

as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. you wanna hide your face, shield it from him and not have to admit that. didn’t want him to make you say it because it felt bothersome. you never had a problem with how you looked, you admired your body shape, even adored your pregnancy belly. it was hard for yourself to grasp what was wrong. it wasn’t him, it wasn’t you, then what was it?

“need me to make you feel pretty?” eren’s jaw tightens, gently biting at your neck to get a reaction out of you, anything to keep you from thinking.

“it’s not that,” you half lie.

eren hums, thinking a little harder before something clicks. he blinks. “she’s okay, baby. stop worrying so much. now repeat what i said.”

your cunt pulsates the instant he rushes his tongue along your neck to the back of your ear, expressions easing into elation, nibbling at your lip and swirling your eyes back as he grumbles into your skin.

“s-she’s okay.”

“that’s right.”

leisurely, he pushes in and retracts back, the french kisses allowing you to relax and take all of him to the hilt. one of your legs vibrates from the fullness, stifling a gasp and clasping your hand around your own throat to restrict your airways, eren laying his over yours to amplify the constraint.

“good girl, baby. good fuckin’ girl,” his voice in your ear makes you shudder, whining into his face as he angles his hips back to slip out just a bit before plunging back inside, that ring of white coating the base of his dick. “yes, take it. . ugnh.”

eren is careful about it, grinding his hips forward to mold the shape of his dick inside of you, making you remember, the back of your thighs clapping with his incredulously. the warmth of your pussy engulfs him, eren puffing out air strenuously, sinking his thumb further into you so he could get a good hook, sprawling his finger over your backside and yanking you back on his dick while giving you steady pounds, cunt squelching over it.

“ooh, love it. love it, love it. fuck,” the hiccups and whines are his favorite parts when you submerge into ecstasy. wailing from every thrust he gives you, eren removing his hand to set it back where it was originally on the headboard, doing his best to keep most of his weight off you.

“what you love, baby?” eren grits, fucking you a tad bit harder so he’s nudging on that sweet spot of yours, a high pitched squeal falling from you.

“mmgh . . a-ah,” the rupture of your tiny voice ensues, each pound harder than the last, absorbing it all. “ . . ungh, shittt.”

“you fuckin’ hear me, ꒰♡꒱. tell me what you love.”

the messiness of your pussy trickles down your inner thighs, coming out like water. every wet splat! resounding the area and it drives eren nuts. you’re slippery as fuck, he’s drowning in it, and he can’t help but whimper from how good you fucking feel, unable to help himself by fucking into you harder. the squeaks and gasps come out of you more, body shaking abnormally as he digs his dick into you, making you take every filthy inch.

“daddy youuu, fuck — it’s you. i love your dick.”

“yeahh, it loves you too, mama,” every sound that comes from him is carnal, prolonging guttural grunts and pistoning his defined pelvis against your ass that thunders back on him.

eren goes to rest his forehead against the headboard, sliding his hands to hold either side of your belly before he begins to drill his dick harder, balls slapping at your sticky clit. lifting your head, you lay it back on his abdomen, sloping your mouth along with his as the two of you silently listen in, unable to breathe. the derisive squelch from you glazing over his dick and messing up the sheets, some of it trickling down your stomach.

“ . . awe, shhit . . aunh, aunh! fuck yes—m’goddd, f-fuck, eren. right there, right there!” it comes out in the whiniest pitch he’s ever heard, surpassing a few octaves, kicking your feet and scrolling your eyes back as you slap and fist at the bedding.

“uh, uh,” his noises mimic yours, smushing his nose up against the headboard creating a pot of condensation, lips grazing it as he slows his movements, too close to cumming, grinding and spanking you. “fuuck, she’s grippin’ me so goddamn good. g’na make me tap out already.”

a dry heave submerses, pawing at the sheets in a haze to military crawl forward and relieve yourself for a mini break. “mmm, w’na lay down. gotta breathe.”

eren removes every part of himself from you, your cackles like a tender hug on his heart. swatting your ass again, he bends down to give the spot he hit a kiss before lying beside you, bringing your back to his chest.

with your thighs pressed together, eren wraps his forearm behind your neck to bring your mouth to his, the other smoothing over your overgrown belly up to your breast, molding them in his palms while passionately gliding his tongue over yours in a nasty kiss.

both of your eyes were closed, eren’s dick sitting on your back, the fixation he has with touching you only makes you absurdly wetter.

“put it back in,” you mumble against his lips, shifting your ass back, eren’s eyes low and locked on to you as he guides his dick down to your opening and slides back in with little to no hassle.

“i love you,” eren says softly, kissing behind your ear and on your collarbone, cupping your left tit to suck back into his mouth.

you cry, again. it seems to be never ending the amount of emotions you felt in this moment. “i love you.”

hooking his forearm under your neck, eren’s ample hand spreads your ass cheek apart as he thrusts harder. his grunts by your ear, even an occasional nibble, the compression of your thighs together as you arch your back all feels too good, enough to make you cum actually. in fear, you whine his name, eren trying his hardest to keep his focus, also close to his climax.

“i feel it, ‘ren. cum with me, cum in me please. i want it so bad. i need it.”

eren moans, whistling as he blew out air, laying you flat on your back so he could lift your left leg up to your chest, locking his forearm under the bend of it while removing the arm he had underneath your neck to hook under your belly, fingers touching the thigh he held up and beating his dick rougher into you. your head falls back, watching him as he watches you, tossing his head back and giving you all of him.

“f-fuck, baby. cum on it right now, please. be a good girl. know you got it,” his voice is shattering, balls thwacking on your clit, the head of his dick squishing deep on that spot that makes you gush out and coat his dick in your juices from every stroke.

“cu—mmin’, oooh, fuck yes. eren!”

sobs break out in waves, adoring the feeling of his cum streaking your inner walls as you cum as one. it’s emotional for you, crying in his face as he kisses you and swallows all the air from you. thanking him in whispers while eren rubs all over your body, unable to break apart from you. clutching your neck and deepening the kiss, his waist jumping as he gasps and shares this moment with you.

a week later you find yourself going into labor.

the entire process was unhurried, and extremely beautiful. eren held you the entire time, letting you dig your fingers into his arms and connecting your forehead with his, breathing you through it as rose rubbed your back. squatting into him comfortably as the warm water your body was submerged into along with the smell of herbs sprinkled around the floor and vanilla candles alleviated you. six contractions within an hour was how it started, your water breaking the moment you went to start your morning shower and yelling eren’s name in fright, staring at the water pooling around your feet.

he never moved so fast in his life. lifting you up and bringing you downstairs where he sat you on the couch with a towel and instructed you to breathe as he dialed the doula and midwife. they rushed here within fifteen minutes, and in that process eren blew up the birthing tub and filled it up so he could get you in as soon as possible. remembering to remind you to melt into the contractions instead of tensing since it’ll make them worse.

you told him you wanted to give birth while listening to destiny’s child, playing it on vinyl and humming along to the music currently. cater 2 u being your mental anthem. the room is dark, only candles lighting the area. eren makes sure to talk you through it, always good for that, ironically. speaking affirmations and praising you, until finally, your precious baby girl is born. with trembles and cries, rose and valeria gasp in excitement as your baby erupted in croaks and shrill cries, tears streaming down eren’s face as they place the baby on your chest so she could instantly hear your heartbeat.

weighing at six pounds and four ounces, she’s the perfect, tiny baby. caressing her fragile body as you weep and lay your cheek atop her head. eren’s sitting back on his feet, stun overcoming him as he sees the small human, coming to realize that the two of you could create such a magnificent thing. rose makes sure to give him some water, his eyes unable to leave the two of you. making eye contact, you gawk in astonishment, holding her miniature wrist between two of your fingers and waving at him.

“that’s daddy, he’s speechless right now. i promise he’s cool, and funny. you’re g’na have lots of laughs,” you speak softly, smiling wide.

he loves you, endlessly.

#꒰ ─── 𝓬𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼.#eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #aot smut #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x y/n #snk smut

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