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twigoftetbury · 9 months
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Excellent collection of interior design, paintings of flowers, topiary plants etc. Visit us for large terracotta planters, large wicker baskets, parchment lampshades, topiary trees for sale, topiary plants UK.
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payetafamille · 1 year
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Galley Cincinnati Inspiration for a small transitional galley dark wood floor and brown floor wet bar remodel with a drop-in sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, gray backsplash, subway tile backsplash and black countertops
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waverlyrowan · 1 year
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Modern Entry - Hall Mid-sized minimalist light wood floor entryway photo with gray walls
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daisy-walker · 1 year
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Closet - Walk-In Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional walk-in closet remodel with open cabinets and white cabinets that is gender neutral and carpeted.
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unfortunatelyderek · 2 years
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San Francisco Eclectic Basement
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rainrot4me · 2 months
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Whispers In The Trees
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Summary: Prepped your whole life to complete a ritual to hand yourself over to a monster, you demand the reason why. When he gives you the answers, he demands your body.
Characters: Slenderman x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Big size difference, rituals, tentacles, gagging, choking, suffocation, eating out, Slender has a big tongue, vaginal, tip fucking, forcing, blood, clawing
Words: 5.2k
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The curse of Slenderman had been in your family for generations.
Since you were little, this curse-like entity crept on your kin and ruled their lives. Demanding sacrifices and obedience every decade; deeming itself a God over you. 
So as you trekked through the dense moonlit woods, you clutched the wicker basket so hard in your hands that it nearly cracked. You tried to think of your mother and her sisters, and her mother and her sisters, who have gone through this same ritual like generations before. The fog was dense all around you, the small flashlight in your hand doing little to breach the thick blanket. 
The nature around you was quiet, a dull whisper of insects and animals as you trudged through the underbrush and thick roots. You knew this path, having walked it often when you were little to help your mother and sisters prepare for their turns, their time to appease the creature. You didn’t understand then, but now that you were dressed in thin white robes and bare feet, reality quickly faced you. In other circumstances, the outfit wouldn’t be bad, a nice Halloween costume of some cute cult girl from Midsommar maybe. But as you neared the familiar clearing past the trees, you didn’t find the idea of being a sacrifice funny anymore. 
Standing just at the edge of the treeline, you took a deep breath, limbs shaking against the cold and fear that ran through you. It was late summer, well past midnight, and the night air brushed against your flushed cheeks leaving goosebumps. Closing your eyes, you stepped forward, leaving the dense forest behind you. 
A sense of dread immediately engulfed you. The fog suddenly fizzled out on the ground like it wasn’t just blinding you. The air was silent, not a bug or animal to be heard no matter how hard you listened. And the breeze just stopped. It was like the whole forest was afraid to move into this clearing, hugging close to the treeline curiously but daring no further. But you had to, no matter how badly you wanted to turn and run back home to the safe arms of your family. To keep the vengeful creature at bay, this was the price that must be met. Every ten years, you watched as another woman from your family disappeared for a night late in the summer, silently praying that she would make it home in the morning. They always did, but the haunting look that followed them shook you to your core. 
Reaching the center of the clearing, a dead spot in the grass was etched in a circular shape, the familiar pattern laid before you. Lying down your basket, you flicked off your flashlight, the moon illuminating a milky blue hue into the clearing bright enough for you to see. You shuddered, the silence creeping into your mind and making you look around quickly, paranoia gripping you. You huffed, rummaging through the items in the large basket and laying the contents out, preparing for the exhausting ritual. Your mother had taught you, every step perfect as she walked you through the routine. The symbol, the candles, even the perfect way to position yourself. It was like an art form for her as she taught you and your sisters.
Unwrapping the large bag of salt you packed, you began to follow the outline in the grass, pouring as you walked slowly. The symbol was forming nicely, a large circle with an x etched through it, the symbol of Slenderman, bore by anything he owned. As you closed the symbol, your heart pounded, the next steps coming quickly as you could feel the forest beyond the treeline begin to stir, its curiosity pressing. Setting candles along the salt, you spaced them evenly, lighting them as you went. It wasn’t nearly as perfect as your mother would have done it, but your shaking hands restrained you slightly, giving you little reason to care.
The candles flickered against the night, the warm glow surrounding you as you studied your work, praying desperately that it was good enough. You felt an impatience in the air, quickly cleaning up the rest of your items into the basket before sighing, and closing your eyes tightly. This was the part you dreaded. The part your family was reluctant to tell you when your time eventually came around. You hooked your hands under the hem of your white robe, the thin fabric almost see-through as you tugged it over your head, your bare body flush against the cold air. Your nipples had already perked, your nervousness making you squirm into yourself as you folded your robe neatly and laid it in the basket, turning back to the salt symbol. Breathing deep, your hands shook, goosebumps running all over your body. You took a step in, careful not to disturb the salt as you kneeled in the middle of the x, tucking your feet under yourself and straightening your back, placing your palms flat against the top of your thighs.
The salt was meant to protect you, a barrier that Slenderman couldn’t break. You were supposed to come out willingly, offering yourself to him without force. Was it for trust or some sadistic attempt at manipulation, you didn’t know. But as you breathed deep, you stared into the dark corners of the forest, eyes flicking nervously and watching for any signs of movement that you knew would come. You had only heard of Slenderman’s appearance, never seeing it besides what your family could recount. Terrifying, was the word they all used. It didn’t help as your heart pounded, the thudding echoing in your ears as you prayed he would never come. But it gave you a good time to reflect.
The specific reason why your family was enslaved to this creature was unsure, tracing back generations and lost with time. But like any of Slenderman’s victims, who's to say exactly why he did anything except for his own gain? 
As you caught yourself zoned out in thought, you were quickly snapped back when you heard the rustling of leaves yards ahead of you. Your eyes snapped wide, back straightening quickly as your tits perked, your naked body on display amongst the candles and decor. You studied the shadows carefully, watching for any sudden movements, your pulse quick. But finally, slinking from the shadows, the lanky creature emerged. The sheer height of him made your heart sink, his bony limbs long and awkward. If it wasn’t for his movement, he could easily blend in with the tall trees surrounding him, making you suspicious of just how long he had been watching concealed by the dense forest. Your nails gripped into your thighs, teeth gritted as you tried to hold down your tears. His presence is overwhelming and otherworldly, defying the logic and rationality you’ve always relied on. The air around you seems to distort, amplifying the surreal nature of his presence until it feels like you can’t breathe. He was closer now, it barely even seemed like he had walked but more like appeared before you, only a few yards away from the circle protecting you. However, the worst part about the encounter was the lack of a face. It was like someone had pressed a sheet against his face, features protruding against the pale skin but offering no obvious facial structure. It was purely terrifying, this creature far beyond what you could’ve imagined.
His dark suit contrasted against his terrifying appearance, his buttoned coat and tie making you knit your brows, your unease only growing. Slenderman just stared, his vacant eyes absently staring down at you. His faceless visage and elongated limbs exuded an unsettling yet compelling magnetism that you found yourself drawn to, eyes refusing to look away as you studied him. Finally catching yourself, you looked down at your hands quickly, cursing yourself for being so disrespectful. “Slenderman, sir.” You mumbled respectfully, keeping your body at attention even though embarrassment wrecked you internally. “I come, as my kin does, to offer myself to you. To fulfill our obligations to you. And to-” 
The speech you had so delicately rehearsed was cut short by a low grumble, the echo of the tall figure’s voice cutting you short.
“I hate to interrupt,” His voice was smooth, every word laced with the undertone of a darker grumble, like two voices were speaking at once, overlapping each other. “But hearing this same dedication every time I meet with one of you becomes rather tiring.” You sat shocked, unsure of what to do next as your careful instructions were quickly skewed. You kept your head down, eyes flicking against the grass as you carefully waited, shaky breaths the only noise between you. You felt so helpless against him, like if you made one wrong move that would be it. The only reason you weren’t screaming and running was the salt circle and the looming fact that if you did run your family would be massacred in minutes. 
“Forgive my rudeness.” He coaxed, pressing closer against the circle until you could see his black dress shoes come into the edge of your vision. You dared to look up, your eyes slightly edging up until you were staring at his face again, that odd sense of being drawn in coming over you again. Slenderman tilted his head, vacant expression examining you. “But, you and I both know what we’re here for. There is no need for formalities anymore.” You knitted your brows, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as you remembered just how bare you were. You gripped your thighs, nervousness running through your every word. “But I thought there was a need for formalities. This being a ritual and all.” You mumbled, eyes roaming the tall figure, his long limbs clamped respectfully behind his back as he chuckled darkly. “All of this,” He motioned towards the salt circle beneath you. “This is only for aesthetics. You understand, to make the scene more appealing for us. Humans have such an odd fascination with beings like me, so to combat your fickle bravery: you created a routine. Something to take your mind off of just how terrifying encountering me may seem.” He explained calmly, his body hauntingly still as he talked, but there was barely a motion of his jaw, like the voice was coming from somewhere inside. 
You glanced at the salt circle, your efforts to make it look so nice thrown to the wayside. “So, the salt…” You glanced up, Slender nodding reassuringly. “I cannot penetrate it. Your protection is still guaranteed. However, I quite like it when you silly women step outside your protective ring and offer yourselves so willingly.” He was teasing now, his thin hands reaching around to adjust his suit before kneeling in front of you, his limbs awkwardly contorting to allow him in front of you. “But you are not like the others. I feel a very reluctant air from you. The others were a lot more… eager.” He cocked his head to the side. At this angle, you could clearly see the massive bulge beneath his dress slacks, the sheer size of the thing making your stomach twist. “I don’t find giving myself over to a cryptid demon so… appealing.” You huffed back, trying your best to conceal the dark tint against your cheeks. Slender only chuckled, the dark echo of his voice making your skin crawl. “But oh how fun it would be to show you otherwise.” He purred, tracing his pale claw against the edge of the salt, his actions impatient. You squirmed, nails digging into your thighs. 
You straightened up, your bravery low but overruled by your curiosity. “Tell me why. Why the decades of demanding our submission while we cower for the rest? Then, when I am satisfied, I will offer myself. No resistance.”  You demanded, eyes hooded as you tried to stifle your fear. Slender stood slowly, clasping his hands behind his back as he contemplated. Until he finally nodded, sighing. 
“Alright, little one, I’ll bite.” He cooed, that ominous voice seemingly coming from nowhere but everywhere simultaneously. You settled, brain running a mile a minute as your heart beat heavily in your chest. “When old cryptids and beasts still roamed rampant through the Earth, your family was desperate. It must have been more than eight generations ago now, but they sought me out, begging for my protection against the things that went bump in the night. I obliged, my only demand being an offering. I never specified, but you hormonal humans took it upon yourselves to offer your bodies. For all I cared you could have given me your leftovers, but I was more than satisfied with what I have been given.” His words were thick with this cryptic dialect, his accent unheard of. “No such creatures roam these lands, long hunted out or deceased. But your family continued to show up despite my resignation, paranoia convincing them if they didn’t I in turn would be the monster that preyed on you. But, I’m afraid I have more important things to deal with than any of you.” Finished, he leaned forward, his white face vacant, but you could tell what he wanted. 
“Then why do you still co-” 
“Ah, ah, ah. I was promised if questions were answered I would get what I came for.” He growled, the calm voice laced with a tone of demand as you scowled. He waited expectantly, his hands tapping quietly behind his back as you stood, the salt on your knees falling as you shook them off. When you looked up, you realized really just how tall he was. You stopped at his waist, your face eye level with the terrifyingly large bulge nudging against the slacks in front of you. He was tall, towering and matching the height of the trees around you. He stepped back, standing straight as he waited for you.
Breathing deep, you took a step, your foot halfway out of the circle as your heart began to race. You could just wait him out, lay here until morning. But you feared his peacefulness would turn to wrath under desperation. Clenching your fists, you stepped completely out, straining your neck to look him in the face. Slender chuckled, his demeanour instantly switching as you felt the air stir, the forest pressing in on you with such an intensity you thought you were hallucinating. It was like he was controlling the trees themselves, making their branches press in and suffocate you. With a hissing, you finally saw the reason for the sudden intensity. Several black groping tentacles shot from his back, their form close to tree branches with their edges and curvature. He seemed to control them as well, the long limbs reaching around his body and whipping at the air, stretches and tears of the odd black liquid molding into new shapes instantaneously. 
They encompassed your vision, the tentacles casting shadows across your face as they streaked across the moonlight. They slithered forward, sliding across the grass and in the air to grip onto your body. The tentacles were cool, like slimy tree branches that defied all laws of permeation. They slid around your ankles and up your calves, gripping tightly against your thighs before hooking onto your waist. They gripped your wrists, up your forearms and around your neck, tugging as they wrapped around your tits and waist. Soon you were completely secured, the tentacles curiously studying every inch of your bare skin, goosebumps rising everywhere they touched. It was electrifying, your body stiff under the chilled slime. Slender was quiet, his body just as curious as his tentacles as he relished in the way you squirmed under his touch. “So warm.” He mewled, his hands gripped tightly behind him. You shivered as the tentacles breached past your thighs, the slimy tips sliding against your folds, curiously spreading them open while you flinched. They slid further, pressing between your ass cheeks and making you hiss, the coolness sharp against your asshole. 
“Wait-” You whined, your hands straining to push the tentacles off your body but they held your wrists still. They engulfed your tits, the tips wrapping around your nipples and tugging lightly, making you whimper. Slender watched carefully, his face never letting any emotion reveal itself. “Relax, little one. You made this decision. Now let me claim what has been so graciously offered.” He grinned. The tentacles slipped between your folds, your nervousness making you clench your knees together but they held them apart easily. Slipping against your clit, you groaned, your stomach tightening as you stood. Pressing further, they probed against your entrance, tiny little tips tangling with each other to slip inside of you, your warmth contrasting with their chill. You whined, eyes slipping shut as the tentacles pressed further in, stretching you as they squirmed and whipped. You felt incredibly full, your clit throbbing against the intrusion as a single tentacle flicked against the hardened nub. 
Slender grunted, his eyes darker as he relished in the way you squirmed, your tiny noises making him strain against his slacks. “Go on, no one can hear you. Be as loud as you please.” You gasped, the tentacles in your cunt tangling together and pressing deep, stretching you wide. They began to pump inside of you, pulling out before pressing in quickly, your mouth falling open. Every inch of your body was covered in the cool slick of the tentacles, every inch sensitive as they glided along you. You felt a tug along your waist, the tentacles securing around you as they began to pull up, lifting your feet off the ground. You panicked slightly, the loss of stability unnerving as you were lifted to meet Slender’s face, your body angled back so he got a clear view of your cunt full of him. You whined, your face flushed and breathy as they trusted quickly, your slick coating the dark limbs beautifully. You found it terrifying how no expression or signs of interest flashed on Slender’s face, only the heavy breathing in his chest telling you how excited he was. Curling, you moaned loudly, throat straining as the tentacles pressed against your warm walls, squelching loudly through the quiet woods. 
You couldn’t speak, the air in your lungs restrained as the tentacles gripped your throat, choking you. Some more moved up, pressing against your cheeks and against your lips, nudging their way inside. The tentacles tasted grimy, unlike anything as they slid around your tongue, filling your mouth full of him. You choked, the tips curiously pressing down your throat, quickly following the pace of the tentacles in your throat as they began to thrust down your mouth. It didn’t help when you felt a single tentacle slide across your asshole, forcing its way inside and stretching uncomfortably. You were gasping and gagging, every inch of you overtaken by these slimy things as they pressed against every inch and the entrance of your skin. That’s when you began to hear Slender’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving against his suit as he watched closely, entranced by the whole scene. He felt every slide and movement of the tentacles, relished in every vibration and constriction that your body gave him. He pushed you, seeing what made that beautiful voice stir or what made you flinch. He loved every answer he got. 
Your senses were skewed. You forgot what direction you were facing or how high you were off the ground, everything becoming a blur as your body dissolved under his touch. Pleasure was racking your body, your resolve leaving you as Slender’s tentacles broke and pulled at every restraint you tried to use. No matter how hard you wanted to resist, these tentacles were quick to force embarrassing noises from your lips, pressing on all the right places. Squirming, the tentacles slicked against your cunt, pounding up into you at an inhumane pace. You couldn’t concentrate, every inch of your body was violated at his will. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your cunt throbbing against the thick tentacles inside of you as you felt your orgasm crash down. You gasped loudly, mouth full of slimy limbs as you came roughly, walls constricting around him. Your body thrashed, fighting against the restraint as you rode out your high, chest heaving. Your head was light when the tentacles slipped from your sensitive cunt, replacing themselves around your thighs as you were hoisted up higher, your brain too hazy to care. 
Your body was angled upright, legs spread wide apart as your clit throbbed, aching from the intensity. Your heavy eyes watched as you were lifted to Slender’s face, your cunt open and raw inches from him. You whined, squirming as the tentacles slipped from your mouth, gasping. The tentacles retreated to your limbs, holding you firmly as Slender’s claws left behind him and reached up, wrapping firmly around your hips, pinching the plush skin. “You have such a pretty face when you cum. I would love to see it again.” He growled, pulling you close to his face. You were confused, wondering what he meant until you heard this sharp tearing sound loud enough to echo through the trees. You tensed, watching fearfully as Slender’s face split where his mouth should have been. It was terrifying. His mock mouth split wide, jagged pieces of skin splitting to reveal a dark interior, his mouth pitch black. Emerging from the dark, a tongue, similar to the shape of one of the tentacles, slipped through the jagged skin, pressing close to your cunt. You squirmed instantly, unsure if you wanted this to happen.
You didn’t have much of a choice as he ran his large, thick tongue through your folds, a groan echoing through him. His tongue was long, black, and inhumane. It pressed through your entrance, the warmth a nice contrast to the coolness of his tentacles that still slid against your skin. His claws gripped tight, holding your cunt flush against his mouth as he slowly lapped you up. He moaned at the taste, pressing against your velvety walls until he heard those wonderful gasps again. “Delicious.” He grumbled against your cunt, tongue curling and filling you as he relished the sweet taste of your orgasm. It was all too much, your body squirming against the sensitivity until you were gasping for air. He was so skilful with his tongue, lapping at every inch of your inside until you felt your orgasm rocking you again, your eyes rolling as you cried your pleasure. It was all too fast, his touch too addicting as you stared at his blank face, pleasure struck across his knitted brows. 
“God… Fucking human.” The words sounded so vulgar following how polite he’s been. It caught you off guard. But you had little time to think as his tentacles were tugging you down quickly, laying you flat as they positioned your legs to spread around his hips, hips straining as the tentacles pulled. You whined, watching carefully as Slender unzipped his slacks and freed the bulge that had been haunting you from the moment you saw it. To say it was huge was probably an understatement. The thick length was easily larger than your forearm, not even two hands would be enough to hold the thing. You began to struggle against the tentacles, panic overtaking you as his cock twitched with excitement. “There's no way in hell that thing’s fitting inside of me! It’ll rip me in half!” You squealed, feet planted against his legs to hold yourself away from him.
Slender’s claws wrapped around your thighs, scraping the skin lightly as he tugged you towards him, his cockhead laying against your cunt. You cringed, fear riding up your spine. “I’ve never gotten this far with the others. Their voices and bodies were too annoying. But you intrigue me, little one. I’ll make it fit.” 
You tried to close your legs, but Slender was already wrapping his claws around your hips, his claws easily overlapping as he nudged his hips between your legs and held you open for him. You were breathing fast, heart pounding as you watched the head of his cock line up with your entrance, the head alone the size of your entrance. He dug his claws in, pinching your skin as he began to press against you, nudging his cock into you. The stretch was rattling, the sharp sting making you cry out as the head of his cock barely pressed inside, your entrance begging for relief. Your hands reached down, gripping his claws tightly as tears spilt down your cheeks, your babbles echoing loudly. The tentacles slid across your skin soothingly, pinching at your nipples and rubbing at your cheeks the further he tried to press. “Ple- Please- Oh, God, please-” You cried, your stomach tightening as his head popped past your tight entrance, your walls constricting against the intrusion, “Breathe, little one. You’re doing wonderfully.” He groaned, hips stuttering lightly as he nudged his head in and out of you. You were whining, breath catching every time he pushed back into you.
He couldn’t go further than the tip, but Slender didn’t seem to mind as he shallowly fucked you onto his cockhead. You were whining, back arched and hips grinding as the sting and stretch of his head slowly turned to painful pleasure. The nudge of his cockhead against your walls made you moan loudly, tentacles sliding down to tug at your clit as he fucked you onto him. You could tell he wanted more, his slimy tongue hanging from his mock mouth and lolling with every thrust. His desperation showed as he breathed heavily, gasps ragged as he held himself back. Even though your mind screamed that you couldn’t handle any more, you gasped, gripping your hands against his thin forearms. “Deeper…” You whined, staring up at him through heavy eyes and flushed cheeks, jaw slack. 
Slender’s body lit up, his claws gripping tighter as he groaned, brows knitting. He was reluctant, his movements nervous until his desperation overtook him, his shoulders crouching low to press his face close to yours. “Hold on tight, little one.” He hissed, your hands slinking around the back of his pale head as you gripped the collar of his suit. He breathed your scent in deep, tongue pressing from his mouth to slink against your neck, relishing in the taste of your sweat. You groaned as the tongue pressed against your cheeks, sliding across your lips before pressing inside. You sucked on his tongue, the long warmth pressing against your throat as Slender began to press your hips down further. It felt like you were tearing, the incredible sting making your eyes clamp shut, Slender’s tongue quick to distract you. His tentacles moved rapidly across your skin, pinching and pulling against every available sensitive service to help relax you. Slender’s cock pressed barely deeper, not even halfway inside of you, but it was all you could take.
You clawed at his shoulders as tears spilt to your cheeks, the fullness obstructing your breathing. Slender was moaning deeply, his ominous voice ringing across the trees as he began to thrust your body down onto his cock. You were both sporadic, hands and tentacles gripping onto every available surface as you stretched impossibly wide. You couldn’t believe the feeling, both painful, but so wonderfully pleasurable. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed, but oh so full. It was nothing like you had ever experienced.
Slender was holding you tight, pressing your hips down roughly and pulling up quickly, just to nudge you down again. He was careful to read every signal your body gave. Every hiss of pain or sigh of pleasure, he was sure to adjust for you. “Sir- So full-” You groaned against his mouth, tongue slipping to glide against your neck. He groaned deeply, teeth gritted and brows knitted. “So good, little one. So good.” His tentacles flicked against your clit, tugging until you couldn’t take it anymore. 
You couldn’t breathe as you felt your orgasm rush over you, hips jerking down against his cock until you were too tight to move. Slender still tried to thrust you down, but your walls constricted and kept him in place. You cried out, clawing against the back of his neck as he slammed his mouth back against yours, tongue invading your throat before you could catch your breath. Slender was quick to follow, warm seed shooting up inside of you in thick stripes as he groaned. His claws dug in deep, blood pooling around his pale skin until it was dripping down your legs. His tentacles lapped it up, pressing the thick liquid across your skin. 
When Slender’s heaving chest finally settled, he took a deep breath, slipping his claws under your arms. “Hold still, little one.” He hissed, pulling you off his cock slowly as you whined, the sharp sting stretching your sensitive cunt. You couldn’t focus when he finally popped out of you, thick black liquid leaking from your ruined hole. His cum was hot, a thick black liquid that bubbled and gooped against your folds. You whined, emptiness making your cunt throb as your head pounded. Slender sat on the forest floor, laying down on his back as he pulled you with him, laying you down on his chest as you both settled. Your limbs were weak, eyes heavy with exhaustion as Slender’s tentacles ran soothingly across your back. 
When you finally caught your breath, you braced your hands on his chest, leaning up to stare him in the face. His pale skin had fixed itself, with no sign of the mock mouth that tore across his flesh. The blank slate was all that was left. “I release you… Of your duties. There’s no need for you to come here anymore.” You sighed, resting your head against your hands. Slender reached forward, tangling his claws with your matted hair, sliding his fingers through the long strands. “But what if I want to come here? More often than just once a decade, that is.” He huffed, sliding his claws against your cheek. You sat stunned, glancing at his expression and searching for any tricks. “But why..?” 
“I guess now I’ve found a more enticing reason.” He grinned, pinching your cheek. He blushed, turning away. You traced along his chest, the fabric of his suit soft under your touch. “You’re still released from protecting us. No need to give you more work than necessary. I suppose you won’t be requiring the ritual anymore?” You smiled, resting your chin against your hand. Slender chuckled, rubbing up your sides. “Only if you would like to reminisce, little one…” He growled, holding you tight.
In reality, you never imagined the monster that haunted your family to become humane to you. You also never expected to meet with him weekly, in the same clearing, exploring each other and relieving the urges only the two of you could satisfy. 
Maybe it was a slap in the face to your kin, but as Slender held you close for another week, all you could think of was him. 
He may have been a curse, but he was yours to bear.
This was an anonymous request!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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harryspet · 3 months
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homestead | r.cameron [p.2]
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[warnings]dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, NONCON, unprotected sex, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
word count: 3.4k
In which you confront Rafe's unsettling mix of tenderness and manipulation.
part one
Your search of the room for anything useful as a weapon was not fruitful. Most drawers were empty except for clothes. You found more pairs of pajamas and nightgowns, but searching the closet only yielded a few hung sundresses. The bathroom was simple, with a clawfoot tub and another window looking out onto green pastures. On the bathroom counter, you found a wicker basket full of what you assumed were newly bought essentials. Several containers of prenatal vitamins, body washes and creams for sensitive skin, panty liners, Epsom salts, and essential oils. 
Rafe Cameron thought of all of this?
The window offered a view of the other side of the house and a large white barn and Rafe’s blue pickup truck caught your eye. You stepped into the tub to get a closer look out the window. Maybe you could see a road, a way out of here, or even a street sign that might tell you where you were. Just like the bedroom windows, they didn’t budge either. 
The bedroom door swings open once more, and you sink into the empty tub, your head cradled in your hands as you desperately try to force your mind to function. For the sake of your baby, you need to think clearly. The overwhelming situation presses down on you, making it even harder to process what’s happening. You can sense his presence in the doorway, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.
“I made scrambled eggs,” He said. 
“They make me sick,” You said stoically, “Haven’t eaten them in months.”
“Good to know,” His tall, broad figure stood over you before you heard him kneel down beside the tub, “I also brought yogurt and fresh fruit. How does that sound?”
“All the windows are locked.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said as if it were normal, “I know you’re hungry. You need your strength. I don’t have to remind you why.”
You looked up to see his hand offering a white bowl filled with yogurt, fresh blueberries, and strawberries. He was right—you needed your strength. If not for the baby, then to gather the energy to escape. Perhaps you could think more clearly on a full stomach. You gazed at the food for a full minute, trying to rationalize why you should accept it, wrestling with the cognitive dissonance that churned within you.
You took it from his hands without a thank you and stirred your spoon about twenty times before finally bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly, which you hated. “There’s the cutest farmer’s market a couple of miles from here. The blueberries are incredible but you gotta get there early on Sunday before they’re sold out.”
You met his eyes for a brief moment and realized they were sparkling with joy. You didn’t have to respond to him, he’d happily talk to himself as long as he felt like he was making some progress with you. You couldn’t let me feel that way for long, “You’ve outdone yourself, Rafe, really.”
“Just want you to be comfortable,” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes, “It’s a lot right now, I know that.”
“A lot,” you scoffed, bitterness laced throughout your tone. “This is insane.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, whatever it was, “You’re safe here. Your baby’s safe here. There’s plenty of room, plenty of food, and you’d never have to work a real jon. You haven’t even seen everything yet, but it’s beautiful. It’s a great place to raise a kid.”
“Rafe, you took the choice away from me.”
He shook his head, “So what? I saved you from suffering even further. Not even a little part of you regrets choosing JJ?”
You went quiet, feeling your temper rising. Instead of responding, you brought another spoonful to your mouth. He didn’t understand why this was so completely wrong, and presenting him with common sense didn’t seem to be working. 
“I love you, Y/N,” He spoke as if to get your attention, but you didn’t meet his eyes this time, “Don’t start thinking anyone’s coming to save you, Y/N. And you won’t overpower me or make it far running. Not in your condition. You know that.”
You knew that, didn’t you? Clearly, JJ didn’t care enough about you to do better. And Pope had a bright future ahead of him. Maybe he’d realize he was better off without you. What were you to do now? Give in when you’ve just realized that Rafe is a monster?
“Finish your food, I’ll be back later,” When you looked again he had the plate in hand and was walking away, not without loudly shutting the door. 
Your head tilted back against the cold porcelain. This would turn out to be a game of endurance. You had to outlast him and perhaps outthink him. He’d been planning to bring you here for weeks, but he couldn’t have planned for everything. 
You finished your food and then spent the next few hours exploring the room in more detail, ensuring you hadn’t missed any detail. After all that time, the only new discovery that you make is under the bed. Still, in its packaging, you find a pregnancy pillow. You wouldn’t admit that you felt a small comfort at the sight of it. Sleeping had started to feel completely uncomfortable over the past few weeks, and you woke up painfully sore each morning.
It felt wrong when you knew it shouldn’t. In the meantime, you’d also take some of the prenatal vitamins. You could only afford one bottle of the generic brand, but Rafe provided several different types. Taking multiple kinds meant you weren’t missing any nutrients your baby might need. In just a matter of hours, you were starting to realize all that you didn’t have. 
You unzipped the pillow from its packaging, letting yourself feel the soft material against your chest. Although the knock at the door wasn’t loud, it startled you. Rafe appeared now in work boots, jeans, and a flannel. He held the doorknob in his hand and looked you over as if he hadn’t just seen you or picked out the exact outfit he wanted to see you in. You noticed he was even taller in those boots.
“What do you think?” He gestured to the pillow.
“Looks expensive,” You said simply.
“It had the best reviews,” he added, “You’ll have to let me know how you like it tomorrow morning.”
You stared back at him, shifting on your feet. "Can I show you something?" he asked, the door still wide open. A chance to leave. Of course, you’d take it. Faking compliance, you carefully stepped towards him. As you crossed the threshold of your room, you allowed him to place a hand on the small of your back. "The room right next door," he said.
Your eyes were anywhere but that door. You were scoping out the entire hallway. There were two more doors across the hallway, perhaps one of them was Rafe’s, and you spotted the staircase. The walls were painted a muted beige and adorned with several rustic paintings. The scent of mahogany lingered in the air, likely one of Rafe’s attempts to make this place feel like a home rather than a prison. You couldn’t turn your head far as Rafe was urging you forward. 
“I’ve been working on something,” When Rafe opened the door, you stepped inside a brand new nursery room, “Rose helped with the decorations, but  I can change anything that you don’t like.”
The wallpaper was decorated with blue flowers and little woodland creatures. A wooden crib sat in the corner, a white canopy draping right next to a rocking chair. The window on the far side of the room also looked out onto green pastures. Shelves on the walls were already adorned with toys and baby books. It was surreal. Beautiful and horrifying. You clutched your chest as you slowly walked around the room. 
“Rafe,” was all you could manage to say.
“I didn’t get a lot of clothes yet. I knew you’d want to pick those out,” His arms raised up, scratching his head as if he was nervous to see your reaction. Over the crib, you noticed the space-themed mobile you had picked out at the store gently hanging down. "It’s a good start, right?" he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“It’s literally perfect,” You couldn’t lie at that moment, “Rafe, d-do you really think I would be that horrible of a mom on my own?”
“No,” He rushed out, his face falling, “What? No, I don’t think that.”
“I could never give my baby anything like this.”
He came closer, but you stepped back, “That’s not what I’ve been trying to say with all of this. I think you’d be a great mom. You’re gonna be a great mom.”
You needed to hear those words. Maybe Rafe was the wrong source but you needed that confirmation. In a moment of weakness, you let him closer. He wiped your tears as they began to fall, “It’s not about what you have, but I’m telling you that I won’t let you do it on your own,” He wrapped his arm around your waist and tear-eyed, and you let your head rest on his chest, “I’ll take care of every little worry. All you have to do is agree to be mine.”
“If you really care about me,” you said softly, letting him run his hands over your hair. “You’ll let me make my own choices.”
“Y/N–”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do,” You lied, “And I want this. I promise. I know JJ is no good for me or the baby. Could you just give me a little bit more time?”
“You’ll go back to him,” Rafe said. His grip on your waist tightened, and you pulled your head away from his chest, gazing up at him. 
“It’s not your baby. You know that, right?” It was the wrong thing to say. His nostrils flared, and your heartbeat quickened. There was no reeling it back, so you pressed him further, “Even if we don’t end up together, I wouldn’t keep his baby from him. That’s wrong.”
“What he’s done to you is worse.”
“You’re right,” You said, trying to maintain the calm, “I know that now. And I understand that you care about me-”
“Do you understand? Really understand? Huh?” 
“Rafe-” You pushed at his chest, and he grabbed your wrists tightly. Your eyes widened as you struggled against him, “Please don’t hurt me.”
Powerless, he held you there, “I’d love your baby like it was mine, I would. And soon after, we could have our own. That’s what I want, for us to be a family,” Each word was low, tight, and controlled as he glared down at you. 
“Okay,” You agreed, scared more than anything, “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll show you,” He was completely cold now, “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you. How you deserve to be treated. Everything I can give you. Then you’ll see, huh?”
He forced you down to the plush blue carpet with his body weight. You weren’t used to how your center of gravity had shifted, how your belly was also keeping you from being able to push back against him, “Please,” You said over and over again, your arms flailing until he pinned them above your head. You were out of breath already, and you had to slow your movementsand stop your struggling just to catch your breath. In this position, the baby is pressed against your further against your diaphragm, “Rafe, don’t.”
He just looked at you hungrily, grunting as he pulled down your bottoms and underwear. 
“You’re so beautiful like this,” He reached between your legs, and you felt your body freeze, “Fucking gorgeous … I’m so lucky.”
You might’ve swooned in any other context. You were more swollen and much more sensitive, meaning you felt every caress that he made. You didn’t want to, but your head tilted back as he carefully rubbed your sensitive mound, “I’ll make you feel good … haven’t been touched in so long. Daddy’s gonna take care of you,” You told yourself that your body was just reacting, that it didn’t matter how good it felt because you didn’t ask for it. He kept your hands pinned only using one of his, as he used his other to undo his jeans. When he finally freed himself, able to palm his growing hardness through his briefs, he let go of your wrists. On your elbows, you tried to pull yourself away and you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face. He liked this. Watching you struggle and attempt to crawl away. 
You yelped when he grabbed your hips, pulling you back and lifting them up at the same. He was inside of you before you could fully comprehend it. You could handle it if he thrust hard into you if he destroyed you fast, but Rafe took his time with you. There was no rush or hurry in his movements. He went as deep as you would take him, and his long strokes left you crying out with each one. 
You could handle it if it weren’t personal, but Rafe leaned over you and stared into your eyes with fierce determination. He talked you through every rush of pleasure, “I know, baby,” He’d coo when he knew it was too much, “Feels too good, don’t it?”
“I know you’re gonna cum for me,” He’d say when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head. “Cum all over me, baby,” He said when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 
When he spilled into you, your body froze again. He cursed, his hips rutting into you. You felt every drop of him, and he didn’t pull out until he’d fully emptied himself inside of you. He sits back on his knees, and you hear him pull up his zipper. 
You flinched when you felt his hand on your thigh again.
“I’m sorry.”
What exactly he was apologizing for, you had no idea.
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Rafe had gotten what he wanted because you didn’t speak out of turn once over the next two days. At some point, you expected the cavalry to arrive and come save you, but that hope shrank with each passing day. He invited you out of your room, and each time, you denied it. You easily recalled what happened the last time you left your room. You had all you could mentally handle within the room, and Rafe would bring you all three needed meals and snacks. You were quiet when he started the conversation, but you mustered up a few sentences for him when he grew frustrated at the lack of back and forth. 
You should have been focused on escape, but all you could think about was never letting him do to you again what he had done on the nursery floor. Being pregnant already made you feel like you had no control over your body. Rafe amplified that feeling, making you feel even more vulnerable and easily manipulated given your current state.
You spent most of the day sleeping, punctuated by long baths or staring out the window. Rafe woke up early each morning to tend to chores, the animals, and the early summer harvest. The vast expanse of land meant you didn’t see all the animals during the day, but in the afternoons when he fed Wrangler and Sadie, many of the animals rushed to the fence, hoping for scraps.
“Got you some books,” Rafe said when he came to see you around dinner time. To your disappointment, he wasn’t carrying any dinner with him. He set the stack of books on the dresser before adding, “And I ordered pizza.”
“Thank you,” you said, resting your head back down on your pillow, hoping that meant he’d bring it to you later. 
“Come watch a movie with me, I finally got the surround sound set up.”
“I’d like to eat up here, please?” You asked quietly, “I don’t feel good.”
“You haven’t felt good since you got here.” You let him sit in silence, “You’ll come eat downstairs tonight, Y/N.”
This was the first time you felt he was forcing you out of your room. You didn’t have the courage to upset him, so you lifted yourself out of the bed. He watched you intently, as if waiting for your compliance, aware of your recent streak of obedience. The way the look on his face softened was obvious, and you hated how relieved that made you feel. 
This time, he led you down the staircase, his hand gently guiding the small of your back as you held onto the railings. As you descended, you caught a glimpse of the front door, sunlight streaming in from the setting sun, but Rafe guided you in the opposite direction.
You passed through a large dining area with a substantial dark wooden table near the front of the house, then continued into a cozy living room. A plush sectional couch faced a massive stone fireplace, underneath which neatly stacked firewood awaited use. Above, a large flatscreen TV was mounted on the wall, flanked by windows dressed in simple, cream-colored curtains. Adjacent to the windows, a bookcase filled mostly with DVDs caught your eye.
He took the time to show you the downstairs bathroom and laundry room before leading you to the kitchen, which was located toward the back of the house. It was straight out of a magazine, spacious and well-appointed, complete with a charming breakfast nook. Many of the touches seemed to reflect Rose's influence, and seeing the rest of the house gave you a clearer picture of just how well-off he was.
A box of pizza sat atop the kitchen island, and Rafe pulled out one of the stools for you to sit on.
“You take care of this place all by yourself?” You asked as Rafe helped you into the seat.
“I’ve had some help,” He shrugged, “But I won’t need much help anymore now that you’re here.”
“You’re expecting me to take care of the house?” 
“Someday soon,” he spoke nonchalantly, opening the pizza box. He grabbed a slice straight from it and started eating so you assumed you could do the same. He added with a slightly full mouth, “Better than working at The Wreck.”
You took a bite of your pizza, not wanting to delve into that conversation further. You should’ve known he was expecting you to be a homemaker. Now that you were gonna be a Mom, you didn’t need to have any career aspirations. 
You picked at your slice under his careful eye. This house exuded a warmth that almost drowned out the coldness you felt toward Rafe. You took the time to map out all the windows and doors and the downstairs layout. It kept your mind busy and, combined with the food, provided a helpful distraction. 
“Are you feeling better now?” His voice cut through the silence. 
“I’m fine.”
“You still like those cheesy rom-coms?”
A memory flashed in your mind. You saw Rafe sitting across from you on his bed. A huge party was going on downstairs in Tannyhill, but you and he were upstairs watching a movie. You wanted so badly to show him Enchanted. He didn’t act impressed at the time, but you could tell he liked it because he couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen. 
“Yeah,” You answered cautiously, though the truth was that you hadn’t had time to enjoy a movie in long time. 
“I happen to have a few Patrick Dempsey movies … if that interests you,” He smiled, trying to tease you. 
“I really should get some rest . . .”
“A movie will help you relax. Just one? C’mon, we can watch Can’t Buy Me Love,” Realizing he wouldn’t let up, you gave in.
You sat on the couch as he moved to set up the movie. You should’ve known that he would sit right next to you, his arm wrapped around the pillows directly behind you, “Relax, enjoy the movie.” He said as the movie’s intro began, and you did your best to appear more like you were. When it wasn’t sufficient, Rafe pulled you closer until you could only lay against his shoulder to be comfortable. You tried to focus on one of your favorite movies and there were moments that night when you completely forgot your circumstance. 
Yet, every additional touch brought you sharply back to reality—whether it was the gentle circles his thumb traced on your arm or the tender kisses he placed atop your head.
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Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!
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kingkatsuki · 8 months
Text
One more and then I’ll stop but like seriously imagine this hulking brute of a man preparing to mount his dragon to return home to his Kingdom after successfully pillaging another village. The loot strapped to the sides of the dragons as he stands victorious, covered head to toe in a sheen of drying blood that for the most part isn’t his.
And as he’s preparing to leave he notices something moving in the foliage out of the corner of his eye. Immediately reaching for his axe as he holds it up high, ready to strike— when he sees a small bunny rabbit struggling beneath a wicker basket. The poor animal looks injured, its paw a deep crimson that rivals his eyes and his first thought is to put it out of its misery and take it home as part of the feast.
But then he thinks of you, and the way you tremble in front of him much like the little rabbit in front of him now. Sliding his axe back into his belt as he crouches down to pick up the struggling animal, caging it in large palms as he holds it uncharacteristicly gently to his chest. Walking back to his dragon as his men call out to him.
“That’s barely a snack for a dragon, King.” Sero calls out, grinning from ear to ear as Bakugou shoots him a glare.
“Do you want me to put it with the rest of the food?” Kirishima offers as he reaches out to take the bunny by the ears.
“No,” Bakugou mutters gruffly, opening a sachel at the side of his beast as he places the rabbit gently inside. His men raise their brows but know better than to say anything as they take off, returning back home before nightfall.
The Kingdom is in celebration as the team return, gathering the spoils as a feast is prepared for tonight. And Bakugou decides to clean himself up before seeking you out, worried that if he found you covered in the blood of his enemies you’d never talk to him again. It was much like he looked the first time he found you; and he’ll remember that terrified look for the rest of his days.
Changing into fresh cloth and furs as he makes his way towards your room, and even though he’s trying to be respectful he still doesn’t knock. Stepping inside to see you curled up by a fire with a book that you quickly put down when you notice him, the tension in your body doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou who tries to be less intimidating. A difficult feat for a man who’s waged wars on nations, and spilt more blood than the rivers that flow outside the Kingdom.
He’s silent as he crouches, setting his sachel down in front of him as he opens it. Rough hands reach in to take out the quivering bunny rabbit, which you stare at with wide eyes.
“It reminded me of you.” He rasps, holding the animal out to you as you crawl over to him from your position in front of the fire. Gentle hands taking the rabbit from him as you hold him against your chest, soft fingers stroking at its fur.
“You’re not going to cook him after, are you?”
And Bakugou can’t help but smile at your question, it’s the first time you’ve seen him do so and it softens the strong frown lines against his face. His eyes rounder, fierce gaze less intense as he moves to sit on the floor beside you with thick thighs outstretched.
“He looked like he needed someone to look after him.”
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ink-n-shadow · 1 month
Note
Angel reader and demon Simon first argument.
He storms off and leaves for countless of days, till he comes back with some fruits to ease his way into her forgiving heart..
this might be my favorite thing i've written for demon!ghost yet...
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[ TIME APART ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where angel!reader and demon!ghost get into their first argument
𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost, brief incubus!soap x angel!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: mature themes (no smut but minors still DNI), angel!reader being a brat, ghost disappearing 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here
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"y'still fuckin' poutin'?"
the feathers at the base of your wings bristle at the sound of his rumbling voice, but you refuse to turn to face him, instead letting your legs dangle out over the bottom of your new cage once again suspended up above the expansive living room. your arms are locked tightly around the hand-welded bars, cheek smushed against one of them as you let out a rather petulant sigh.
all you had asked of ghost was if he would ever let you out—allowing you to walk the expanse of his palace with little restriction. it wasn’t like you would try to run away!
ghost just scoffs bitterly, muttering something about you being difficult under his breath before disappearing through the monstrous living room doors and slamming them shut behind him. the force is enough to rattle your cage slightly, causing it to sway from side to side and jostling you around a bit.
“don’t do that, ghost!” you scream after him as your fingers curl tightly around the bars, trying to keep yourself upright and stable amongst the tremoring movements. “you…you asshole.”
and that would be the last time you saw ghost for days. he would send one of his buddies (an incubus who you learned was named johnny) to lower your cage and feed you at the same times every day. at least johnny was more chatty and lenient than ghost, letting you roam around to your hearts content under the guise of “promise y’won’t tell ‘em? he’ll have my fuckin’ head on a bloody pike if he knew i let his bird out.”
you got to see places you’d never been able to before, like the large kitchen filled with gourmet meals and ingredients courtesy of Hell’s finest. you also found a smithing shop tucked outside near the labyrinth, stocked with the finest metals and blown glass you ever could’ve imagined. that’s where you see the scraps from when ghost made your new cage, multiple ruined plaques where he’d written things like “GHOST’S SWEET ANGEL” and promptly scratched through them.
but you know ghost is coming back one day when johnny’s delicately placing you back inside of the gold cage, latching the cuff around your ankle as his other hand gropes at the fat of your outer thigh (“so fuckin’ soft. how’s the bastard not takin’ care of ye yet, hen?”).
you can hear the distinct and heavy thumps of ghost’s steps before you see him, ambling into the living room with a large wicker basket full of goodies hidden neatly beneath a white silk cloth. you scramble to the other side of the cage, brows pinched together in reignited anger as you listen to ghost quietly moving to the other wall and beginning to turn the crank to lower you.
it’s silent as the chains suspending you groan with loud creaks, cage slowly descending from the ceiling until you’re once again safely on the living room floor. ghost doesn’t even breathe a word to you until he’s gently pulling you out of the cage’s bares, clawed hand pulling the cuff from your ankle and soothing the slightly raw skin with a gentle massage.
“y’have fun with johnny, i take it?” ghost muttered under his breath as he manhandles you with ease until you’re perched on one of his muscled thighs once more, thick arm looped behind your back to keep you upright and the other moving to card through your hair with an unseen gentleness.
you don't bother responding verbally, offering ghost a halfhearted shrug as you unconsciously sink deeper into the comforting touch of his hot skin against yours. as frustrated and angry as you are with ghost, you know deep down that you had actually missed him while he was gone.
ghost simply hums at your shrug, nodding his head gently as he pulls the wicker basket closer to his other thigh. "brought y'some new snacks to try—dunno if y'like 'em, but they looked good."
the demon doesn't wait for you to respond before he's uncovering the basket and letting your eyes fall upon the right feast he brought for you. it's stocked full of your usual favorites—ripe plums, pomegranates, peaches, wheels of different cheeses, freshly baked loaves of bread, and fresh cuts of meat and jerky. but he's also brought you an assortment of what looks like baked desserts, different cakes and cookies wrapped neatly in red ribbon. there's also different candies, sugared gummies and hard jawbreakers in neat pouches.
"don't be shy, angel. try somethin' f'me," ghost coos softly in your ear as he points to one of the small desserts, pulling your hand over and letting your small fingers rest on the edge of the basket.
another petulant huff leaves your lips before you're complying with his command, reaching out to pluck one of the cakes from the top of the basket and bringing it to your opened mouth. you can barely stop the soft moan of content that follows, eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile flickering onto your lips as the flavors of chocolate and peanut butter bleed out onto your tongue.
and ghost lets you eat in peace (and allows you to feed yourself for once), simply leaning back against the arm of the couch and placing a thick arm behind his head as he simply watches you indulge in the treats he brought. once you're full and satiated, he's pulling you up off his lap, standing up to his full height and taking the still almost full wicker basket up with him.
he's almost to the open kitchen door when he peers at you over his shoulder, noticing you toying with the gold cuff and trying to secure it around your ankle. "the hell 're ya doin', angel?"
"getting back into my cage?" you answer meekly under the heated gaze ghost is casting your way, trembling fingers letting the cuff clatter to the floor as you peer up at him with big eyes. you barely catch the soft shake of ghost's head before he's going into the kitchen, calling after you.
"no more cage, 'lright? why don't you go out to the garden for a bit? or y'can go lay down in my bed."
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aliesbienish · 3 months
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Happy news
Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x wife reader
Summary: An attentive Benedict unknowingly spoils his wife’s surprise.
Pure fluff.
Lord Granville’s house was abuzz with noise. Carefree guests occupied every space; talking, drinking and mingling..some rather intimately. While you generally enjoy these events immensely, today you felt a little overwhelmed.
It was your husbands fault you felt this way, Benedict was being far too attentive. You’d expect him to have found his way to an easel in one of the many rooms by now, but here he was diligently by your side. Sure you usually loved him for it, but today it made you panic. Panic because you were trying to avoid spilling a secret you had planned to share the following week when you made it to Aubury Hall. You had it all planned out; a picnic in the secluded gardens where you’d pull out your own old baby toys from the bottom of the wicker basket. He look confused understandably, but you explain it’s about time you both decided what their babies cherished teddy would be.
However, your husbands concerned looks meant that this plan was quickly going out the window. Each time you declined champagne or foreign teas he asked if you were okay. And when you had to stop dancing with Ms Delacroux due to a queasy stomach it was like he thought you’d be struck down then and there.
“Y/N, how about some fresh air?” Your husband asked, gently tugging your hand.
“Ben, I promise I’m fine,”
“Humour your poor husband, would you?”
You relented reluctantly, letting him lead you through the grand home out towards the back gardens. The noise died down and the air cooled as you both walked hand in hand amongst the flower.
“Honey, I love you but you are scaring me. These parties are were you normally get a chance to let loose and be yourself. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Ben, I promise you I’m not dying. Can’t I enjoy my evening without the aid of substances?” You grumbled. A last ditch attempt to hold onto your secret.
“Of course you can, but that doesn’t explain your uneasy stomach.”
“Fine,” you muttered, “you caught me. You actually caused my stomach problems Mr Bridgerton.”
“How? I wasn’t even the one dancing with you?”
“Well without your help I wouldn’t have missed my monthly bleeds,”
“Your monthly…” he murmured questioningly before a look of shock passes across his face. “Honey, please tell me you’re not jesting. Are we having a child?”
“Yes Ben” you smiled as a large grin spread across his face. He let out a giddy laugh before pulling you off your feet into his arms.
“I love you so very much,” he whispered before pelting kisses across your face. “And I already love our child” his hand went down to your stomach “and I can’t wait to meet them”.
———-
So you didn’t get to tell Benedict the way you had planned, but luckily a week later you were still on a picnic at Aubury Hall. However Ben wasn’t the one in the dark, his mother was. And she was about to get some delightful news.
FIN
Hope you all enjoyed. Please feel free to shoot me any requests x
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fanaticsnail · 4 months
Text
Beautiful
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,400+
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Synopsis: Big Mom has found her son, Charlotte Katakuri, a partner she deemed worthy enough for him to court for matrimony. While he is smitten immediately with you, he is determined to make a good impression on you by not revealing his face. Your curiosity gets the better of you.
Warnings: Katakuri x f!reader, talks of husband and wife, use of bride, massaging face, fluff, so fluffy.
Notes: wrote this half-dazed at 6:30am this morning because @gingernut1314 decided she needed the big man in her life and the brain-worm got me. Here he is, the big guy all for you, sweetheart. Art link
Tag List: @feral-artistry @i-am-vita @indydonuts @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training
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Being courted by the Minister of Flour was not something you had ever pictured to be highlighted on your impressive resume. When you first received an invitation from the Charlotte family to venture to Komugi island, this was not an outcome you predicted for yourself. 
Charlotte Katakuri, the second son and third child of Big Mom, was told to find a bride. His orders were received, the date of his nuptials set, and his suit picked out for such an excitable occasion. The only thing that had not been set in stone was the partner joining him at his side after their soft march down the aisle. 
Your family was titled, strong, and one of the only families Big Mom had deemed worthy enough to usher in a new generation of pirates to join in taking the Charlotte name. Katakuri had no choice but to obey his mother, apprehensively accepting the terms of an arranged marriage against his own desires to simply live to protect his siblings, nieces, and nephews. While this was out of his control, what he could control was how his intended bride depicted him. 
He could continue to shield his face from you. His rationale was as such, “If they never view my face, they would never have reason to fear me.” And so he did as such, hiding his face beneath the fur shroud from the moment he met you, and every courtship session soon thereafter. As he laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was immediately smitten. Taken by your appearance alone, and your willingness to sign your name beside his on the registry to set your intentions to wed in stone, he could never be more proud to have a partner such as you. 
As his trust in you began to build, he slowly allowed you into his heart, and shared his burdens with you as Minister of Flour. He confided in you, relishing in your company as he openly courted you under the watchful chaperone of his younger sister, Charlotte Brûlée. 
One such occasion, he laid out a blanket for you and drew out a large wicker basket from behind his back. He presented you with an assortment of baked sweets and pastries with a soft blush dusting his cheeks beneath the fur shroud. While you accepted the treats with gratitude, you instead placed it beside you and knelt on the blanket, tapping your lap and asking him to lay on his back. 
“Tell me about your day, intended. I want to know every detail,” you smiled mischievously up at him. He cautiously stole a look at Brûlée, who emphatically ushered him to do as he was told with flailing hands. 
Lowering himself onto the mat beside you, he awkwardly shifted himself to attempt to do as you asked. Rolling your eyes, you reach your hands up to his shoulder and gently guide his larger form to lay his head in your lap. His entire head was the size of both of your thighs together, but you had no qualms or complaints about it. 
“Come on, I don't bite,” you reassured him with a soft laugh, “Let me hear about your journeys abroad. Tell me anything that you want, you have my complete attention.” He was a giant, but so incredibly gentle and sweet to those he deemed as family. 
Coaxing his head onto your lap, he immediately drew his hand up to his mask and secured it over his lips to keep his mouth and teeth hidden from your sight. You chose to ignore this, drawing your fingers up and settled him atop your thighs as he slowly, quietly spoke about his life to you. 
While Charlotte Katakuri was immediately taken by you in the registry office with your family and his, you were horrified by the sight that was met with you. You had heard stories about some of the Charlotte's being of unusual size and stature, but you had no idea exactly how tall your intended was. His form was almost three times your size, his intimidating appearance did nothing to stifle your nerves. 
Believing to have masked your concerns at the nuptuals well enough to be believable, your nerves all but melted away the moment his soft, soothing voice checked in with you afterwards. Charlotte Katakuri was a sweetheart, a 504cm tall sweetheart with such softness within his hardened exterior. 
Reclining his head on your lap, you rubbed at his plum-colored hair as he spoke about adventures away from Komugi. His hand gestures out in a flurry in front of his chest, pointing to the sky as he speaks so eloquently to you. Although he does not yet trust you enough for you to reveal his face, your curiosity begins to gnaw at the seams. 
You start to lower his inhibitions by massaging his scalp, scruff of his neck and forehead. His hair pricks your skin as your skillful touch chips away at his woes and worries. His voice quietens further as he closes his eyes as your hands firmly press against his forehead. You needed to see your soon to be husband’s face, you desperately craved to know what was going on beneath the furs. 
As he leans into your touch, he seemingly forgets about the shroud over his mouth hiding his sharpened teeth from you. He is in bliss beneath your hands, and he slips away into a world carved by your palms and fingertips. Your hands dip deeper, lower into his cheeks, your digits feeling his muscles relax their tension beneath your fingers. 
Smiling to yourself softly as he gasps at such sweetness befalling from you to him, he parts his lips gently. He arches his head further into your lap, the shroud finally lowering and revealing his sharp teeth and unnaturally widened mouth. His jaw falls slack as his brow becomes relaxed. 
You crave to coo at his vulnerability, truly enjoying empathetically how much he allowed himself to relax into your soft touch. This hardened general, this pirate minister, this older brother to so many siblings in the Charlotte family, was as malleable as rice flour mochi beneath your skilled digits. You took in his appearance, almost relieved at feeling the twin slits up his lips as you looked down at him with nothing but pure adoration. 
You were immediately in love with what you saw, your heart beating heavily against your ribcage as a warm flush rose to your cheeks. You loved him, all of him.
Brushing your hands over his cheeks, you silently and slowly commit his face to memory like reading a marble carving with a simple touch. He is gorgeous, and you remember to tell him so when he snaps out of his tranquility and looks at you with accusing eyes the moment he realized you slipped the shroud over his chin. 
“What are you doing?” he growls quietly, “Why did you do that? I don't want you to fear me-...” A soft gasp flees from your lips as you take him completely in. His lips split up his cheeks in an unnatural slit through symmetrical scars, his sharp fangs extend up on his lower jaw and over his lips. 
Although he feels slightly betrayed at the way you managed to easily reveal his face, his betrayal is eclipsed by shock and awe when he meets your eyes. 
“I-I just…” you trail off, your body cowering away in response to his anger, but your eyes still depict the emotion you so desperately desired to show him, “...-I just wanted to know. I wanted to see.” Charlotte Brûlée watched the interaction with interest, her own shock evident on her face. 
She witnessed the entire interaction with your hands on his face, almost calling out to warn her brother his face was going to be revealed, but quietly hoping you would fall in love with him further. She knew you loved him, knew you wanted to see him, and trusted you enough with her older brother that she knew you would love him more the moment his fangs and scars were brought into the light.
He was expecting fear, disgust, anguish and anger to be met in your curious gaze. But all you held in those calm and half-lidded orbs was pure trust, love, and pure adoration. His shock was adamant as he nervously floated his eyes between your gaze. His thumb and index finger circled around your much smaller hand, hovering it over his cheek as you felt your heart soar at the vulnerability.
“And now that you have?” his whisper came out more like a gasp, his voice breathy and craved to hear you say you weren’t afraid. He needed to know you did not fear his appearance, his wordless prayers spoken within his mind’s eye the longer your gaze soaked in his sight. 
You placed your unoccupied hand on his cheek, leaning in closer to his face and your lips curling into a soft, innocent and intimate smile. Caressing his cheek, you cocked your head to the side and finally uttered a single word he truly did not ever think he would hear. 
“Beautiful.”
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sunsetsimon · 11 months
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farmer simon riley ♡
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
this is very self indulgent sorry not sorry! pt 2. boyfriend simon nsfw will be out tomorrow!
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ he wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning, kissing your forehead before he starts his routine. rinsing his face, shaving if he needs to, brushing his teeth, the usual. simon doesn’t listen to much music when he’s alone, but the silence grounds him, a reminder that this is his life now. he does a lot of reflecting, sitting on the porch and drifting off in his mind.
☼ as the sun comes up he gets to work, feeding the animals one by one. he talks to them and names them. he acts annoyed when the ducks follow him, quacking at him for him to hurry up and give them their feed. “god dammit, fucking ducks back up!” he grunts, kicking his leg out to keep them back as he fills the bucket.
he makes his round to each animal, giving them a pat and checking that they have everything they need before leaving. by the time he makes his way back to the house, he can tell you're up. the curtains are drawn and the front door is propped open, letting in the fresh morning air. he knows he'll find you in the back garden with a wicker basket on your arm, trying to decide what to make for breakfast.
"how about omelettes this morning, love? somethin' simple, wanna spend some time with you," he says, pulling your back against him, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt and caressing your skin.
☼ always drives you into town when you want to go. he’s like your personal body guard, so unless you tell him otherwise, he expects to be next to you the entire time. spoils you so much too, letting you buy whatever you want without a fuss, he has the money for it.
☼ he buys whole cow from one of his cattle friends and learns to cook different recipes with the meat. simon definitely becomes one of those ‘griller guys’ who finds any excuse to grill or smoke meat. he has a lot of fun with it, trying out new recipes and techniques to see which produces the best results. he loves cooking together with you, thinks you look so cute in your “kiss the chef” apron he got you.
☼ having the boys or your friends over for meals. ghost is anything but a socialite, but he does have the boys over a few times a year for a small cookout. you get so excited every time, ready to hear all the stories soap and gaz talk about, even though they definitely shouldn’t be sharing the information. they try to keep it lighthearted, making positive memories with each other outside of work is rare. he never says it, but simon has a good time whenever they come.
☼ indulges in a lot of hobbies. shooting, wood working, gardening and more. he has to do something to occupy his time now. there’s a small building on your property that he renovated into his work room. tools cover the walls, and his projects sit on the tables until he finishes them. he spends the nights he can’t sleep in there, distracting himself with work so that he doesn’t think about the things that haunt him. you wake up to an empty bed in the middle of the night and look out the window, seeing the lights on in the distant building. sighing, you roll out of bed and put on your fuzzy robe that he got you for winter.
you open the large door, revealing simon sitting at one of his tables, his gun taken apart and splayed across it. “si, it’s 2 in the morning, come to bed,” you say, walking over and softly petting the hair on the back of his neck.
“i will soon, just gotta finish this.” you frown at him, giving him a knowing look that he doesn’t actually plan on being done soon. unmoving from your spot, he sighs and wipes off his hands, throwing the towel down. “okay, ‘m coming.” his hand reaches under the table, grabbing a 2nd gun and tucking it into the holster in his pants.
you roll your eyes, “my god.. do you just have those everywhere?”
“yes.”
☼ homegrown flower bouquets during the spring and summer, simon makes it a point to make you a fresh one every week. he cuts the stems and puts it in a vase for you, leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to see when you come down. he does everything he can to make you feel special because you’re the light of his life. sometimes he builds you things too! making mental notes whenever you talk about wanting something, he spends night after night in his workroom to make it perfect for you.
☼ loves sitting on your porch and watching the sun set with you. after dinner, he’ll pull you out onto the porch, sitting next to you with a glass of whiskey. simon doesn’t say anything, just staring off and enjoying your presence. you can feel his eyes on you occasionally, watching as the sun casts it’s oranges, pinks, and reds across your face. you look so beautiful and peaceful here.
☼ never expected this to be his life but he’s happy with the way it is. he can never get too bored though, always needing to do something. the winters can be tough on him mentally as there’s less to do in the cold, so he picks up reading and is constantly finishing projects around the house. he just wants you to be safe and by his side, forever.
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mondaymelon · 10 months
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Hihi!!! Saw your requests are open and maybe…. Just some cuddling hc or drabbles 🙏
I’m touch starved obviously, but it would be nice with kaeya, diluc, Alhaitham, and Ayato ?
My pookies, they need a hug fr 😔
₊˚ෆ "𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌." | kaeya, diluc, alhaitham, ayato, kazuha x gn!reader
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not very familiar with writing this kinda stuff so added a little bit of variation for each one!! thank you for the request nonnie !!!
[ touch starved genshin men are so... chef's kiss... ]
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Kaeya has been growing busier recently.
With the return of several reconnaissance missions, all sorts of paperwork have been shoved onto the poor man, and he’s spent every free hour away from his desk unwinding at Angels Share, where instead of getting pestered, he’s pestering any person close enough to hear his words. 
“I miss them…” He mumbled to no one in particular, swirling the deep reds of the wine in his glass, pressing his cheek against the wooden counter. His voice denied his dubious sobriety, and his hazy gaze certainly wasn’t helping his case.
The bartender just sighed, clearly fed up with Kaeya’s drunk antics, and turned to the crestfallen man while clearing away the bottles he’s downed in the past two hours. “Your lover? Why not just go see them?”
“...” Silence was the only answer from the male as his mouth dropped slightly ajar, his eye sparkling with realization. That’s right, why couldn’t he? Ignoring the jarring fact that it was well past a reasonable bedtime, he slammed his cup down on the table, before stumbling out the door. The path to your place was well-trodden and familiar, winding along the perimeter of Mondstadt’s walls and a cozy place to all. Kaeya could’ve sworn all he did was blink once or twice, yet he had already found himself with his hand raised, knocking on the wood of your door. There was quiet, then the soft steps of your sleepy footsteps. The door creaked open, and he practically flung himself at your pajama-wearing form, engulfing you in an embrace as he buried his head into the crook of your neck.
“K-Kaeya?” Your body swayed from the sudden weight, and you hesitantly returned the gesture, wrappping your arms around his lower torso. He mumbled into your skin, unintelligible sounds that just made your ears burn. “Hey, you reek of alcohol, just where have you-”
“Ugh, you’re too loud.” His voice was low, breathy, and he slowly walked into your house, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to see you. Cuddles please, love?��� He’s drunk, it’s clear from the red flush dusted across the cheeks and the way he stares, practically mesmerized by the sight of you.
You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone an argument. With a sigh, you dragged his limp self to the bedroom, covering him in blankets and pillows before cuddling up next to him. “Happy?”
“No, I asked for cuddles. C’mere.” And just like that, you’re trapped in his sturdy arms, and he let out a content exhale as he snuggled himself into your form. 
“Warm. Can’t we just stay like this for tonight, love?” ₊˚ෆ
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Diluc always came home late.
It’s no surprise that Mondstadt’s everyday occurrences and trifles kept him away from where he longs to be the most, and the fact that he’s secretly Mondstadt’s Darknight Hero wasn't exactly aiding him in this predicament. He let out a long sigh, rearranging the papers on his desk, and ignored the ink splatters that had gotten on his sleeves. His red eyes scanned the world past the large windows, the sun overhead shining down on the grape fields below. In just a few months, harvest season would arrive, and then the whole estate would be bustling with activity. Just thinking about it made his head hurt.
A walk would do him some good. As work-centered of a person he was, it wouldn’t do him any well to keep himself glued at his desk for countless archon-forsaken hours on end. He stepped out into the hallway, only to pause in his place as he spotted you, glancing around in confusion with a wicker basket dangling from your hold. All questions flew out of his head as he approached you from behind, pulling you into a back hug. “Love, what are you doing here?”
“Diluc!” You perked up as soon as you felt his touch, giving his red hair a light ruffle. He leaned into your touch with a soft smile on his lips. “It’s lunchtime, isn’t it? The maids told me you’ve been cooped up in your room all day, so I figured I’d bring a little something…” You held your picnic basket a little higher so that he could see, face growing red as he remained silent. “H-Have you already eaten…? Sorry, I’ll-”
“No, don’t.” He reluctantly let go of you, but took your hand instead, gently guiding you to the drawing room, where a long couch has been fixed next to the wall. He looped his arm around the basket and placed it on the table, then directed his full attention onto you. “But can it wait?”
You’re not used to him requesting things, and your eyes widened. “S-Sure, but what for?”
“So I can do this.” Suddenly, your back was against the couch, and Diluc was on top of you, his arms planted on either side of your form and effectively capturing you with his own body. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before leaning his head against your chest, letting out a breath of contentment as he fluttered his eyes shut. Your quickening heartbeat pulsed in his ear. “Do… Do what you did earlier. That… playing with my hair. Please.”
Who were you to refuse? You relented to his efforts and ran a hand through his crimson locks, letting a smile grace your lips at his sudden childishness. “You tired?”
He hummed in response. “Mhm.” Your touch was ever so gentle, and he yearned for it with a passion. Slowly, he reached for the hand on his head and held it, kissing the back of it delicately, as if you were made from porcelain.
“Thank you, love.” ₊˚ෆ
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Alhaitham’s head is always stuck inside a book, that is no understatement.
And now was no different. Even with his duties relieved, it being a weekend, and despite the fact that he’s literally sitting right next to you on the couch, his nose is still buried in his novels, eyes scanning page after page. Yes, you could understand his love for reading, but did it really surpass his love for you? Call it childish, but it had been a long week, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle into Alhaitham’s arms and listen to his half-hearted complaints. You pouted at the ashen-haired male, who hadn’t even looked up for the past two hours. This had to be a new form of torture.
“Haitham.”
“Mhm?” You could feel your frown deepen as he just hummed a response, not even bothering to look up. In situations like these, isn’t it better to be upfront?
“...Can we cuddle?” Alhaitham’s eyes widened the slightest margin, his multicolored gaze finally, finally shifting upwards to meet yours. His stare flickers as he spots the small pout fixed on your lips, and his own formed a smile.
“Needy, are we?” He said it with a dash of sarcasm, yet set the book away all the while. Uncrossing his toned arms, he glanced up at you with a brow raised. “Why don’t you say please?”
You huffed. Of course, he had to be like this, but whatever irritation you might’ve had was more or less swept away as you opened your mouth to speak once more. “Please?”
And just like that, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, the side of your face pressed into his chest where you could hear the dull, just slightly faster than usual beat. His hand snaked its way behind your head, and he softly toyed with your strands as he buried his own face into your neck. Alhaitham’s skin was slightly cool to the touch, yet his warmth spread across every inch of you, and all of a sudden, it was hard to breathe with how much overtime your heart was putting in. You moved to speak, but your voice was completely dead, and when you tried to shift your position, Alhaitham’s firm hold on you kept you locked in place.
It’s not like you had any complaints. Even from this unflattering angle, you’re able to admire how long the archons spent crafting a man like Alhaitham, with his sharp jawline and fair skin, and gorgeous, marble eyes that’s colors blended like a painting.
“What, like what you see?” Alhaitham couldn’t even act exasperated, and the smile that’s reserved only for you was one filled with amusement.
“And if I do?” You could feel the flush on your face.
“Admire me all you want, since I’ll be doing the exact same to you.” ₊˚ෆ
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Ayato is a man of many masks.
It’s something that’s needed for the life he leads. A situation that he’s been delved deep into ever since his birth. You certainly don’t blame him for it, it’d be impossible to. That, and that facade absolutely collapses whenever the two of you are alone together. His usual business politeness and mask of indifference simply cease to exist, and you become one of the only people who can see the man as he is, rather than just a political figure that you’ll shake hands with to maintain appearance. Instead, it’s the smooth-tongued and cheeky man who found you when you were at your life’s low, took your hand with a smile, and brought you back to the light. You had fallen for him, and fallen hard. To think that you were his lover now seemed like a delusion that your brain had crafted, but it was true, and it was found in small moments like these.
After a rather taxing meeting with the Inazuman officials, who were busy pressing for marriage between the Kamisato clan and another, you found him snuggled into your arms when you woke up in the morning. When he had joined you in your bed, you had no idea, but you admired the way his violet eyes were shut and how his long, dark lashes curled. You marveled at how ethereal the man was, the beauty mark that graces the skin just below his lips, and his long, silky tufts of light blues and indigos. “Pretty…” Your voice was barely a whisper, so as to not wake the sleeping male, but you already know your eyes are sparkling. “Archons, isn’t it unfair that you’ve given him all the beauty you could’ve given?”
You shake your heads at your odd thoughts, lightly touching his head, in awe at the softness of his hair, and his hazy eyes slowly fluttered open with remaining ebbs of morning grogginess. “Ah, you’re awake?”
Ayato merely smiled, pulling you closer and pressing into your form. “No,” he sounded pleased with himself, too pleased with himself. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “I’ve been awake all this time. Seems like you say some embarrassing things about me while I slumber?”
Silence. Your eyes are round, and your mouth has fallen slack as you stare in utter shock at the audacity of your lover before you. “Y-You-”
“Next time, don’t be too shy to say it to my face, alright?” ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) omg its finished hooray hooray !! first ever req on the main so jodafjlfjlksd dies are the characters ooc theyre ooc okay im tired lets honk mimim
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @solxima
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gacougnol · 1 month
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Thurston Hopkins
A woman carrying a large wicker basket through a street in Assisi
Italy, 1950's
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shhhsecretsideblog · 2 months
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Anniversary To Remember
RP / story written with @tbgblr2 Thanks for taking on the challenge of this idea and my attempt to find an inconvenient birth location that hadn’t been written before. (9.5k words)
“Wha… NO!” you snapped as you looked at the sign in front of us.
“Please?” I asked, with my best doe eyed expression. “I booked it specially for us last year… I know things have changed, but it's perfectly safe.”
“I’ll fall through.” You groan, admittedly giggling at the thought.
“No you won't, they’re not like the old days with wicker baskets, they’re proper, metal structures designed to hold 10 times our combined weight.” I retorted.
It was our second wedding anniversary today. When we discussed it last year, the day after our one year anniversary, it sounded like a great way to celebrate our second. We were going on a hot air balloon ride over the city into the countryside and staying for a romantic meal together with a night in a log cabin to follow.
Only our desires got the better of us, and here we were looking at the sign for the balloon place with you holding your hands under your blossoming belly – 9 months of it.
You had forgotten all about it with all the baby commotion, but when I pulled up to the venue near the airport, it all came flooding back.
“The doctor said you weren’t due for another week, and this will be the last chance we can do something crazy like this before the baby comes. It makes lots of sense to do it now and cross it off our bucket list… plus I can’t get a refund.” I tried to reason with logic.
You shook your head. “I think my belly is almost the size of that balloon the way I feel.” Despite your protest you’re clearly thinking about it and, warming up to the idea, you eventually smile at me.
“That’s my girl” I grin “Don’t worry, it’s only 3 hours”
~•~
I roll my eyes but my lips pull into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. Here’s hoping we can both fit in there.” I joke, rubbing the swell of my heavy stomach.
Leaving the house was the last thing I wanted to do today, and taking a romantic hot air balloon ride? Complete madness. But you were just so excited, this was something you’d always wanted to do for as long as I’d known you. And those doe eyes, I really couldn’t say no.
As we stood and waited for the stewards to set up the balloons, I grimaced at the twinge flaring in my back.
“Oof-” I huff out, and attempt to hold up my bump that’s weighing heavy on my hips and cramping my spine.
“Baby kicking you in the ribs again?” You ask, noticing my expression.
“No… it’s just really heavy. Hoooo- I’ll be glad when this pregnancy is over.”
“Not long left to go sweetie. Here, let me try something.” You stand behind me, arms snaking my waist, and you lift up the large bump containing our baby. My head falls back against you with relief. “That feels wonderful.” I murmur, enjoying the momentary feeling.
After a couple of minutes of respite, you gently let go and the weight returns to my pelvis and I groan softly.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, taking another deep breath, rubbing my belly subconsciously. “I’m not sure I’m up for this…”
~•~
“It’s the safest thing in the world” came the voice across the way. One of the representatives of the balloon company came striding up and shook my hand. “How can I help?”
I picked up my phone and scrolled through to our online voucher. “I’m here for our booking?” I asked, showing the details to the man who approached.
“Ahh!” came the reply. “You’re here to fly. Got your transport right over here. Flying it myself today. Names Jimmy. I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion earlier, let me tell you, kids are the best thing in the world, and once you’re up in the air, you’re going to have stories to tell them to get them to sleep for years to come. Just checking…” he sounded slightly unsure “are you safe to fly in your condition?”
“I have the medical certificate here, got it last week.” I announced. Jimmy looked it over.
“Good all seems to be in order, if you’ll follow me… our chariot awaits!” Jimmy was enthusiastic, I’ll certainly give him that.
~•~
I was glad when Jimmy directed us further across the field, I needed the opportunity to walk off the cramp rippling my stomach. The braxton hicks had been happening on and off today, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but I didn’t want to tell you as I knew you’d only worry. I didn’t want to ruin this once in a lifetime experience for you.
My eyes widened when I saw the basket we’d be riding in; it was huge and a lot taller than I anticipated. It was higher than my waist.
“Erm… how am I going to get in that?” I ask uncertainly.
Jimmy produced a stepping stool, presumably he was used to getting people in and out the large basket but perhaps never someone quite this pregnant before.
~•~
It took a few false starts, with you stepping on, trying to get your leg over the top, giving up, repositioning, trying again and again, but eventually you were able to use my shoulder as support as I lifted you up over the edge of the basket. “Maybe I should have gotten in first and lifted you over?” I suggested, as I scrambled in behind you.
You huffed out a breath as you smiled “I am in no condition to be lifted thank you!”
It was quite roomy all things considered. There was a small cabin to one side where the pilot could sit and do his thing without directly interfering with us. I looked over and saw the laptop computer affixed to a small tray against the wall.
Our area was open sided, exposed to the elements, but thankfully it was a nice day and aside from higher winds when we got up to a decent height, we were expecting clear views and plenty of lasting memories.
We cuddled together as Jimmy announced he was lighting the burners – the whoosh of the gas and the heat of the flames announced we were getting ready to go. I hugged you from behind and as there was a quick lurch from the balloon lifting off the ground I felt your usually soft belly harden under my fingers. “What was that?” I whispered to you.
~•~
“What was what?” I reply casually, keeping my eyes forward at the ground that was slowly disappearing beneath us.
You say my name with a hint of a scolding, knowing I knew exactly what you were referring to. My belly was still contracting under your fingers and I could see in your eyes that you could feel it too.
“It’s nothing, just another braxton hicks that’s all. Don’t worry. Look at this amazing view” I try to distract you “we’re already so high.”
~•~
I calm a little as I feel the tension ease around your middle. Taking your hand in mine we walked over to the edge of the basket. We spend a good 5 minutes with the wind ruffling our hair as we stare out over the city. “There's our house!” I excitedly point out into the distance. “There’s your parent’s place. Oh and mine.” I’m lost in the giddy enjoyment of this, holding your hand tight and don’t notice your grip tightening and tightening more on mine as the next contraction starts to grip your middle.
“If we need to get down, how do we do that?” you asked Jimmy.
“Sorry, nothing much we can do now until we’re outside the city. Nowhere clear to land. Figure we need about 2 hours minimum with this wind speed. Afraid we can’t just turn these things around and head home.” He was smiling but didn’t even look up at you as he responded, he was too focused on twisting the knobs on the gas bottles to get the mixture right and tapping his route onto the laptop to let air traffic control know where we were heading.
I turn back around and grasp you around the waist – your bump pressed in tight against me as I cuddle you close to me. I don’t notice the strained tension that had gripped it a few moments before. Kissing you I whisper “Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots of years and lots of babies!”
~•~
“Lots of babies eh? Let’s see how we get on with this one first before you start planning for a whole football team.” I shift my hips subtly side to side, trying to not think about just how low the baby felt in my pelvis.
“You were right; it is really magical up here. You can see the whole city.” I say wandering as much as I can in the small space, needing to move, looking out at every angle towards the horizon. The sun was shining brightly illuminating the tiny buildings below, clouds littered the perfectly blue sky, but it was the silence that made the experience otherworldly. It was so quiet up here. Just the sounds of the breeze and the occasional whoosh of the gas canisters keeping our balloon in the air.
I ended up leaning against the adjacent wall of the basket to you, each of us looking out at the impressive scenery, but I’m pulled out of the experience but a forceful contraction squeezing and tightening my belly. My breath hitches, pain pressing more urgently now through my body. I try to steady my breathing, long deep breathes through the pain, that’s what they say don’t they? My fingers grip the padded railing and my head dips slightly. Stay calm, just breathe, I tell myself. This might not be labour.
~•~
You suddenly feel my hand rubbing your back. “You ok?” I ask, concern in my voice looking at your white knuckles gripping the side. Your eyes dart between my face and what I’m looking at, suddenly releasing your grip.
“Yeah, fine. Just baby’s really low. Probably just the change in gravity because we’re so high.”
I caught my laugh, sniggering through my lips. “No, you’re just very, very pregnant.” My hands grip either side of your hips and press, the moan escaping your lips echoed out across the wide open air.
I lean in close and whisper so only you can hear “Just breathe through it, we’ll be on the ground in a couple of hours.”
~•~
“You know?” I whisper my reply, turning my head slightly to find you nodding, a grin twitching your lips. “Damn, I thought I’d been more- hooo-subtle.”
Slowly, I turn around to face you, holding on to your biceps as I find myself needing both the physical and emotional support.
“Ooohhhh- why now?” I quietly moan against your chest.
“Shhhhhh it’s okay.” You whisper into my hair, rubbing my back before pressing deep into my hips again. “How long do you think you’ve been in labour for?” You ask.
“Mmmm- I’m not sure. My body’s always aching and cramping these days, I- I didn’t think anything of it….” I reply softly, my breath hitching again with another contraction. My heavy rounded belly is squashed between us and I’m almost certain you’d be able to feel it through your shirt, tensing and contracting against your stomach.
~•~
The next contraction builds without warning as you grab hold of me tight, your fingers digging into my shoulders as you press your forehead into my chest, desperately resisting the urge to scream, knowing it would likely cause chaos with our pilot. My hands grip into the small of your back and you press back into them, you’re suddenly bent at the waist, your feet spread, hips swaying side to side as you groan quietly into me.
My forehead rests against you and to the outside world - or specifically Jimmy at this moment - it just looks like we’re embracing and enjoying the moment.
Suddenly there’s a splash between your legs and you find your dress is sticking to your legs. You go wide eyed. There’s no mistaking it now…
~•~
“Oh my god…” my voice is barely a whisper as I stare up at you in shock. Your expression mirrors my own.
“Erm… is everything alright guys?” Jimmy asks in an upbeat tone that feels alien to the both of us right now.
“Not really no…” I say to our bewildered pilot, before turning back to you. “Honey, I think I need to sit down.”
Your hand is around my waist as you walk me over to the small cushioned bench sitting one end of the hot air balloon basket, you steady me as I awkwardly lower myself down.
“Are you okay here for a minute while I update our pilot on what’s happening?” You ask quietly, one hand affectionately rubbing my stomach.
“Mmmm- yeah… I think so. Thanks.” I reply and watch you walk over to Jimmy to presumably tell him that I’m in labour.
Everything feels different now I’m sat down; my hips ache, my pelvis feels full and my stomach seems to sit further out forcing itself to sit between my thighs. The baby had definitely dropped and was making its arrival known.
Why now… why here… I thought to myself, this baby has a really warped sense of timing. I closed my eyes and rubbed slow circles around my stomach. I tried to stay calm and reassure myself that everything would be okay, but my broken waters continuing to leak from me served as a constant reminder of my advancing labour. My heart raced and it felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath through the rising panic…
~•~
I look Jimmy straight in the eyes. “We need to get down. Now… if not sooner.”
He shook his head “I wasn’t lying when I said we couldn’t. You guys knew the issues before you got on. I’ll put an SOS out so the medical facilities will meet us when we land, but it’s going to be around 2 hours.”
“Shit” I cursed under my breath, as you groaned loudly, the first vocalisation of a rapidly accelerating labour.
I dashed to you and skidded down to my knees, inadvertently sliding through your amniotic fluid in the process, cursing all the way. I grasp your hands as you grip mine - hard - as your eyes look at me pleading, struggling to catch your breath.
I talk you down, calming whispering tones as you catch your breath and groan through the rest of the contraction.
Jimmy struggles putting 2 and 2 together as he asks “what’s happening?”
“We might well be pushing out a baby at 2000 feet if you can’t get this thing on the ground” I summarise.
“Fuck” came the blunt reply from our pilot.
~•~
We stay in that position for the next few contractions - offering me your hands to hold or shoulders to squeeze. Meanwhile, Jimmy is nervously pressing buttons on his map and contacting the base on the ground, trying to find any nearby suitable location to land - his laidback persona starting to fray at the edges.
“Hooo- the baby feels so low…” I huff out after a particularly fierce contraction. “I don’t think… I can sit anymore. Feels like I’m sitting on their head. Need to- oof- stand. Help me up?” I ask holding out my arms.
Your large hands hook under my arms and slowly aid me to standing. My balance is thrown off, the baby even lower, and I stumble a little but you’re quick to react and hold me steady.
“How are you doing love?” You ask me with concerned eyes.
“Okay… as well as I can b-be in the circumstances.” I attempt to joke, motioning to the basket and the open skies around us and the ridiculous situation we’ve found ourselves in.
“I guess of all places to labour, this has definitely got the best views.” You tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. You’re barely even looking at where we are - eyes focussed solely on me.
“I’m sorry… I ruined this experience for you.” I murmur quietly to you, feeling guilty that you were now missing out on enjoying this bucket-list activity.
“What? Don’t be silly. You’re having my baby, there is literally nothing more important to me than the two of you.” You kiss my forehead and pull me closer.
Before I can respond another contraction steals any words I could say and I’m left with only deep groans coming from my mouth.
The pain and pressure rages through my very core, my hands scramble to hook themselves around your neck as my hips sway and my knees bounce, pulling myself downwards against your sturdy frame, releasing a low moan against your chest.
When the contraction fades and my ability to speak returns I ask “do you think we should maybe start… hoooo… timing them?”
~•~
“Let’s give it a go” I say, glancing at my watch. At this point I’m just playing along as I’d been timing them since I first realised you’d been having contractions. We focus on each other through the course of the next few minutes not even staring out at the view at this point - you’re deep breathing, head buried in my chest and my hands roaming your body trying to rub - anywhere - to make the pain go away.
As the next contraction builds bringing you back into your previous position, hanging low off me and moaning loud through the worst of it, I’m counting in my head. The numbers reach high enough that I just give up as you finally come out the other end and look at me.
“So you know in the birthing class when they say come in when they’re less than 5 minutes apart and last longer than a minute?”
You nod, signalling me to go on.
“I think we should have been there for quite some time now. That was 3 minutes from the last one and lasted at least a minute - lost count after 50 seconds”
Jimmys face, watching all this from afar went white.
I turned and noticed. “Hey you said you’d had babies before. Any tips for this bit? All my knowledge is from videos at this point?”
He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t handle it. Seen my wife in stirrups, seen her bulge as the head came out and I passed out. Came to as she had a baby to her chest and 2 nurses fanning me looking on concerned”
I shook my head. “Great…” I wasn’t sure how much of that you had took on in you slight state of delirium, but either way, the next contraction was building and you held on tight.
~•~
On learning that we should already be at the hospital by now with how close together the contractions were coming, I wiggled out of your hold and moved away. Needing space… to process, to not be touched.
“No…. That can’t- can’t be right. Hoooo-“ I breathed heavily, hands gripping the edge of the basket in the absence of you. Unsure if it was the increasing pressure or the very real possibility that I was going to have this baby in a damn hot air balloon, my brain went into complete denial.
“Babe, I’m sorry. We can time some more to be sure, but this baby is definitely coming, sooner than we want.” You stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder which I shrug off with a gruff. I know this isn’t your fault, just a case of really unfortunate timing, but the constant pressure and pain has me taking my frustrations out at you.
“Fuck… ohhhh my back….” I whimper, leaning over the railing and jutting my hips backwards. The baby must be pressing on a nerve that has my spine screaming.
Despite snapping at you and shrugging off any contact, your hands grasp my hips and you press your thumbs deep into pressure points in my lower back. The relief is instant, pain reducing to a level that didn’t make me want to vomit, and I exhale a moan into my elbows.
“Did we- find anywhere- else to- land?” I pant out.
You turn to Jimmy, who also heard my laboured question.
“Yes I did, it’s sooner than our original landing spot, but with the wind speed and direction we’re travelling… erm it’s still going to be at least another hour and half…” Jimmy admitted to us.
~•~
“I don’t think she’s going to last an hour and a half!” I rant at Jimmy while rubbing your back. He looks at me with an apologetic look in his eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Is there anything in here that we could use? A first aid kit at least?” I ask.
Jimmy digs under the shelf where his laptop sits and pulls out a tiny first aid kit. Leaving you for just a moment I take the first aid kit from Jimmy and open it - inside a small roll of gauze, some tape and a pair of round ended scissors.
“No idea if these will even be sharp enough to cut the cord… not that we could tie it off properly if we could.” I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about though inside I was panicking at this point.
“Quick…” you groan as the next contraction builds and I rush over to hold your hand, feeling you squeeze tight.
~•~
I take your hand, gripping hard, and twist around towards you curling into your embrace. I hang on to you as the contraction takes hold, the pain sharp and the pressure constant. You notice the sounds I’m making with each contraction are getting deeper, now lowing instinctually with every peak.
A minute slowly passes but the contraction doesn’t fade. I’m still shifting and groaning in your arms.
“Hoooooo- No…. Oh no no no…” I suddenly whimper, panting erratically.
“What is it?” You ask worriedly.
I lift my head up, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “I- hooohooohoo- no…. not now….”
“Baby, talk to me. I need to know so I can help you.” You plead, cupping my face.
“I think… ooohh- I think I need to push…” I say as I bite my bottom lip, breathing heavily through my nose.
~•~
It was my turn for my face to go white. “Now? No! God, no… not now!” I pleaded to the open air around us. You weren’t listening, or at least not responding, deep breaths being sucked in and puffed out to try and regain a moment of calm before the contractions happen all over again.
“You can’t push. No one has checked you… are you dilated? You might injure yourself. You have to wait until we land!” I’m rambling at this point. Instinctively I know there’s nothing we can do to stop it and it happens when it happens but the only thing going through my head is ‘we’re all alone up here.’
“Please baby do your best. You can’t push… please” I plead.
~•~
The contraction eventually begins to fade, and taking with it the urge to push. I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips hearing your string of panicked questions and your flustered demeanour. Placing a hand to your chest, I calmly say “Honey, breathe.” Echoing the words you’ve previously said to me. “It’s okay, it’s passed now.”
“Oh god, you scared the life out of me.” You pull me closer, wrapping your arms around my waist. “So… you’re doing okay now?”
“Yes, I’m okay now, we both are.” I reassure you, holding the swell of my stomach that’s nestled between us.
You crouch right down so you’re eyelevel with the bump, both your hands splayed wide across its surface. Looking up at me over the swell you mutter “Can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby.”
I giggle, placing my hands over yours. “I know, hopefully not too soon though.” My breath suddenly hitches with a sharp inhale. “Oooohhhh here comes another one. Quick, hold me-” I manage to spit out before the contraction steals my speech and buckles my knees.
~•~
You sink down to your knees, your head nestling into the crook of my neck as you flop your arms over either of my shoulders and leave them draped down my back. I feel your fists clench and release through the bouncing of your forearms as you let out a groan, muffled by the fabric of my tee shirt.
I whisper close to your ears “You’re doing great, keep on doing that, resist that urge to push.”
I feel your head bobbing into me, nodding as much as you could, not able to give me a verbal response.
Your knees are spread wide and I can only hope at this time that your stance being wide doesn’t foreshadow anything happening between them.
I glance to the side to see Jimmy moving towards us to push past my back. He was fiddling with a few ballast bags on the side of the basket, pulling them in and pushing them to the opposite side of the basket.
He didn’t say anything, but after shoving the bags over the other side, re-securing their fixings and letting them out over the edge he went back to the gas controls.
Suddenly we felt the unmistakable feeling of descent, the slight jump in the pit of our stomachs.
“Are we nearly there?” You asked. The contraction was ebbing away and your voice was croaky, only barely loud enough to hear.
“Sorry” came Jimmy, and once more he sounded genuinely apologetic. “We need to drop down a bit to catch a different wind current to get to the new destination. Still got an hour or so.”
Your head dug back into my shoulder. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
~•~
“An hour?! Hooooo- I don’t know if the baby is going to wait that long…” I whisper quietly in your ear, not wanting to admit it too loudly as that would make it real.
“Shhhh, it’ll be okay baby.” You quietly reply as you rub my back. “You’re doing great, keep resisting the urge. It’s not time to push yet…. It can’t be” you added so quietly, whispering to yourself. Hoping.
“The baby feels so so low…ughhh… even without a contraction the pressure… so much pressure.”
“I know darling, but you’ve got this. We’ll be back on the ground before we know it. Just hold on a little bit longer.” You look skyward, pleading to the universe. You really didn’t want to have to deliver this baby at 2,000 feet.
As the balloon dropped to its new level, the basket got caught on a rogue strong gust of wind, jolting everything and everyone inside as it swayed abruptly. With our arms wrapped around each other, we nearly toppled over but managed to stay upright as we both instinctually widened our knees for balance.
“Are you okay?” You ask me, our hearts thumping in shock.
I could only nod as another contraction started not long after the basket steadied itself.
“Jeeze, Jimmy what the hell was that?!” You shout towards our pilot.
“Sorry guys, that was a bit of a rough one.” He joked, readjusting his equipment that had dislodged
Meanwhile the contraction raged through me, every muscle seemingly tense and solid. My hips were screaming, forced apart by the large head barrelling towards my cervix. The pressure… it was too much. My knees were too wide. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I had to push…my body deciding to act of its own accord. Bearing down, a long and low grunt suddenly rattles from my throat against your neck.
~•~
I’d been paying careful attention to your grunts and moans over the past hour or so as concern grew and grew, but the new noises you were making were different. I looked at your face and saw your scrunched up eyes, the blown out cheeks and I suddenly realised.
“No!” I snapped. You didn’t respond. “Don’t push, baby, you can’t. You need to be checked. You know you can’t push until you’re fully dilated. Please… don’t want you to get injured.”
The end of the push came, you opened your eyes. There were tears there, frustration, pain, panic… who knows but all you could answer in response was “I have to push right now!” Soon you’re at it again.
~•~
“Can’t- help- it…mnghhhhhh!” My hands claw at your shoulders, using you to balance as my hips sink lower and my body pushes hard. “Oooohh… I can feel it… baby is moving…down!”
“Shit. Okay, okay.” You try and rationalise and plan, working out what the hell we were going to do now. “Baby, is this it? Is this really happening now?” You ask me.
“Ughhh! I think so… feels very real to me hooo!”
“Then we’ve got to take your panties off. We need to see if you’re fully dilated, if you should even be pushing right now.” Your brows furrow with concern and sympathy with every hitch of breath and groan of pain, knowing this was about to escalate very quickly.
Your hands disappear under my dress and find the dampened fabric of my underwear from my broken waters. You roll them down my thighs but keep them hidden from view beneath my knee-length dress, not wanting to alert Jimmy to what was happening. It was just you and me right now.
“Tell me when this contraction is over, then I can try and see if I can work out how dilated you are.” You say softly, trying to keep me calm and reassured in this far-from-ideal situation.
I nod in understanding, grunting once more in an uncontrollable push before gasping for breath at its end. “Hoooo-hoooo I think it’s passed…” I croak quietly to you.
~•~
I look up to check and see Jimmy occupying himself with his duties, not looking at us. Blowing out my own breath to calm myself I lower you down, so you’re on your hands and knees in front of me.
I stand up and move around behind you. Lifting the back of your dress up, I roll it up to expose your ass, your wide opened legs stretching your panties around your knees.
I let out an involuntary gasp. It’s not lost on you.
“What is it” you gasp. I describe the scene in front of me. Whilst your lips hadn’t yet parted, the baby’s head was definitely bulging, sitting just inside of you. I’d no medical training, but could only presume that we were at the stage where each push had the head begin to show and retreat as you stopped the effort. I explained to you that we were well past the point of needing to check your dilation, and right now we need to get you more comfortable to push… first task will be to get those panties off you so you could open up freely.
I looked up and that’s when I saw Jimmy looking straight at us, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.
~•~
“I hope you’ve got some blankets or something up here Jimmy, cos this baby is going to be born before we reach the ground.” You warn him sternly, snapping him out of his panicked staring.
Ignoring our pilot, you focus your attention back to me - shifting and squirming on hands and knees, the dress still lifted showing just how close the baby was to this world.
“How are you holding up darling?” You ask quietly to me.
“Mhhhh- like there’s a bowling ball stuck in my vagina-” I snap with a gruff.
“Right let’s get those panties off before the next contraction so you’re free to move.”
My hands and knees were planted so heavily on the floor of the basket, I couldn’t move. The idea of raising either of my knees to free my underwear seemed too Herculean a task. You had to manoeuvre around me, holding me steady and pulled the garment free from my legs.
As soon as I was free my knees automatically spread opening up my hips further to ease the unbearable pressure in my pelvis. I know you wanted to move me for the next contraction, but I could already feel it approaching. Pressure was building and building, the baby pushing against my opening. With my ass still on full display I went down to my elbows, my forehead almost kissing the floor with my hips up pointing to the sky, and I succumbed to my instincts and pushed.
You held me steady as I pushed, watching in fascination as the bulge got bigger. The sounds I was making had turned primal, instinctual, and you could tell I had mentally retreated into myself and on the job I had to do.
“Oh my god… I think I can see the head!” You cried out after a forceful push showed the smallest sliver of the baby’s head appear just behind my lips.
~•~
My exclamation caused you to lose your focus, immediately stoping pushing and causing the sliver of the head to slide back in. Biology won out though as you were forced to push again only a few moments later and once more the first glimpse of our baby was clear to see again.
You grunt with relief as the contraction finally passed - with the head slipping back out of view again - but you were buoyed by my enthusiasm.
Jimmy, taking a moment to interrupt with a cough managed “sorry no towels or anything… it’s not intended to be used for ferrying the sick, wounded or I guess labouring mothers to be”
“Help me up” you gasp as you pull on my arms. I move around to grab you under the armpits and heave you up, you dress slipping back down your legs covering your modesty again.
“Here it comes” you grunt as you echo the position you’d been in only a moment ago, your arms under my armpits, one hand holding the other wrist, the other gripping tight to my tee shirt in a balled fist. You planted your legs wide and almost growled with effort as the next contraction ramped up.
~•~
My body trembled against you as I pushed, my arms so tight around you grasping at your clothes. Your frame the only thing keeping me upright, the smell of your aftershave the only thing keeping me from panicking. It was an effort to get up but I needed the gravity, something telling me to stand up, to bring the baby down.
“Oh god…” I moaned out heavily against your neck “I can f-feel the head…” my knees squatting slightly during the push, opening up for the baby to peak through.
But when the contraction was over, and the pushing stopped, the head slipped backwards and I whimpered a sob on your shoulder.
The effort of pushing had dampened the back of my neck and hair with sweat, and beads of it glistened on my forehead. Though it was early evening the sun was still bright and warm in the sky, making my temperature soar. Every pore of my skin seemed to tingle, aggravated by the fabric of my dress. My entire being was overheating. I felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath; the air too hot, my skin too tacky.
I shifted in your arms, uncomfortable, frustrated. I needed to do something but couldn’t find the words. You noticed me pulling at the hem of my dress and knew what my subconscious was trying to do. Still holding me upright, your hands roamed my back and found the zip of my dress, pulling down, helping to free me from the cotton prison.
~•~
Your eyes opened as I reached down and grabbed the base of your dress, suddenly realising what I was doing. You stretched your arms out, hands placed lightly on my shoulders as my body raised up, pulling the dress with me as I went.
The first thing I noticed was the bump stopped the dress from coming up. I had to tug it a little to get it unstuck. I pulled it up over your breasts and over your head, then releasing it from one arm to the other until it hung loosely from my fist, draping on the floor.
The sigh of satisfaction as you felt the cool breeze rush over your exposed, overheated skin, instantly cooling you was palpable. You were now naked except for your sports bra you had put on this morning for comfort.
You gripped hard on my shoulders again, the next contraction building as you managed to grunt out “that feels so nice… but don’t you dare lose that dress. I need it to get home.”
~•~
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back to me with a laugh.
I held on tight to you as the contraction took hold; my body pushing, squeezing, opening for the baby.
“Keep going baby, you’re doing wonderfully.” You offered words of encouragement against the moaning I was making in your ear.
“I don’t feel like I’m making any- mnghhh- progress.” I say releasing the push with a huff.
When the contraction had waned I shifted out of your hold a bit. Holding the underside of my low bump I swayed gently, facing outwards towards the stunning horizon, letting the cool breeze wash over my skin in the break I was given.
“How long til we land now?” I dared to ask our pilot, who’d been giving us a wide birth since I started openly pushing.
“We’re getting closer, I’d say just under 45 minutes.” Jimmy answered simply, completely avoiding looking in my direction.
“Do you reckon - hoooo… we’ve got any hope of making it to land before this baby c-comes?” I ask in vain, taking one hand off my bump to hold the side of the basket, my hips shifting round in wide circles.
Your hesitation gives me all the answers I need. Still you reply “Whatever happens babe, you can do this. And I’ll be right by your side.”
“Well you’re not exactly going to go anywhere.” I joke before a contraction suddenly strikes and I hiss through my teeth.
Standing in the a corner of the basket I grasp the padded railing with both hands, gripping the cushioning so hard my knuckles whiten. The baby presses lower and lower and I rock, and groan and push alongside its efforts. My hips jut backwards towards you, my back flat as I lean into the baskets edge, nearly wailing with the efforts of the push.
“Can- can you see… ohhhh…. Is it coming out now? Mghhhhh!!!” I cry out mid-push.
~•~
“I can see it baby, I can see it!” Even against all of my natural instincts to panic I’m getting invested in your progress and can’t help but get excited as things show progress. The bulge between your legs was now significantly bigger than when I had first noticed it, and whenever you were pushing, the head was forming into a genuine teardrop shape, though still not holding its place when you stopped.
“Shit” came the voice from Jimmy. Panicking, expecting to get some bad news, my eyes shoot over to him just to see him staring straight at you, focused clearly on the dark patch between your legs.
“Don’t you dare freak out or feint… there’s 4 of us in this basket relying on you to get us safely on the ground” I admonished. Jimmy in turn shook his head and thanked me, breaking his reverie and focusing back on the laptop.
Focusing back on you, you grunt as you push again. “You’re doing so good baby. I can see the head a lot when you push. Keep focused… if you want, you can reach down when you push and feel it yourself”
~•~
I tentatively release one hand's grip on the barrier, the excitement in your voice making me desperate to feel the baby. But I can’t seem to let go, the effort of pushing is too consuming and I’m scared to let go of the support. I give a loud grunt with a big push, feeling my lips starting to burn with the stretch.
But then it’s over, contraction faded, and I bring myself back up to standing. Feeling more confident without a contraction to let go of the support, I place one of my hands between my thighs and I can feel it; just behind my slightly parted lips is our baby.
“Oh my- wow!” I exclaim, making first contact with our child. “I can feel them, that’s our baby.”
“I know, and you’re doing wonderfully darling. We’ll be meeting them soon” You say, grinning ear to ear and stepping towards me.
“It’s got hair!”
“That’s not surprising, considering the amount you’ve got.” You joke and stroke the thick locks of hair that cascade past my shoulders, tucking wayward strands behind my ear.
“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask, my fingers still delicately stroking the bit of head that’s peaking out.
“I’ve told you I don’t mind. As long as they are healthy and happy.”
“I know, I know…. I’m kinda hoping for a girl though…” I admit.
I feel the next contraction brewing, but I don’t want to remove my hand from my crotch. Instead I back into the corner of the basket, keeping one hand on my baby and the other flying out towards you for support.
My body sinks into a squat when the contraction hits and everything squeezes downwards. I take a big gulp of air and push… hard, feeling the baby’s head inch forward into my palm.
~•~
My hand reaches out to you, your hand on my shoulder and my hand in turn resting just under where your bra strap rests. As you sink down I follow you, ultimately ending on my haunches so I’m eye level with you. Whilst you’re desperate to close your eyes during the push you fight to keep them open and look into my eyes, my smiling demeanour giving you a level of comfort in this trying time. Suddenly I lean forward and place my second hand over yours so we are both cupping your lips. I feel the roundness of your hand as it envelops the bulge there and get in close. “Push!” I urge.
There’s no stopping you, your cheeks are puffed out and your brow is furrowed but you keep your eyes on me. Your mouth is wide and groaning as you make the effort but still we keep that connection.
My hand is pressed outwards as is yours as your lips part and your fingers rub the slick, surprisingly spongy mass slowly making its way out from between your legs.
You suck in your breath as you need a moment to get your strength as I say “again?” and you’re back at it, groaning loud and low, the hand on my shoulder grasping hard.
~•~
It was just you and me at that moment, the rest of the world completely shut out. You and me, together bringing our baby into the world.
My chest heaves with every rasped breath, my breasts resting atop the large pregnant swell that hung between my open thighs. My boobs had gotten bigger as I approached the end of this pregnancy and this bra was the only one that didn’t pinch.
Your eyes light up as we both feel the head sliding forwards into our hands. But the pain is astronomical and I’d lose myself entirely to it if you weren’t beside me right now. The baby fills even more of my palm and I can’t help but cry out “…Hurts…. Burning…” in between my laboured breaths.
The contraction starts to ebb away but I don’t want to lose this progress. It’s almost too much to bear if the baby slides back again now. I give a final long grunt, pushing as hard as I could while the contraction was still present, huffing as I release the push and hoping the baby stays put.
~•~
I watch in awe as I see you put incredible effort into a push, your face both incredibly contorted and at the same time, focused on it’s one task. Your hand moves away from between your legs, batting mine back at the same time. It twists and grabs my fingers, as my eyes sink down to the area that was previously covered.
Your hand squeezes my fingers as you let out a roaring sound, unlike any I’d heard so far. The hand on my shoulder digs in to the point where I’m certain your nails will leave embedded marks, but still my eyes focus between your legs.
In front of my eyes I see your lips spread around the head moving out, red, firey skin moulding outwards, spreading like a petal on a flower. The teardrop shape of the head, expanding outwards.
You gasp. “Burning… burning… burning, hurts” it’s almost incoherent babbling at this time, but whatever you were doing had some positive effect, as once I see your shoulders sag, right there between your legs was the most perfect oval of darkened, matted, soggy hair that I had ever seen.
“You did it baby!” I yell in triumph. That’s when I realised that you weren’t paying attention. It’s clear that at this point, there’s nothing you can do but focus on the ring of fire between your legs. It’s all consuming at this point, your knees are quivering trying not to lose control, your hands are squeezing and digging nonstop. Your eyes are closed and scrunched hard.
Youre gasping “Pull it out! Help me!” There’s nothing I can do at this point but sympathise as you struggle at this most gruelling stage of the process.
~•~
I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I’m entirely lost in this moment; blinded by the pain of being stretched far beyond anything I thought possible. But it was more than just the spreading of my sensitive lips - my hips were wrenched apart, the baby shoved against my pelvis, the nauseating feeling of being so… full. I couldn’t take it.
My body started to tremble, you could feel it beneath the hold you had on my ribs and you could see me shaking in front of your eyes.
“I can’t do this!” I wailed, eyes scrunched and tears leaking past my lashes. “It’s too big! Uhhhh- fuck. Help me.”
“Oh baby…” you whispered, your heart breaking at seeing me in so much pain. “I know, but you are so close. You can do this.”
“I c-can’t!” I sobbed.
“Yes, you can. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever met. You can do anything, and you can do this. Just a little bit longer, I promise. Then when the next contraction comes, you push with everything you’ve got, okay? The head is almost here…”
I nod. That’s all I can manage. My head lolls forward, both my hands clawing at your shoulders, my entire body trembling, and we wait. We wait through agonising second after agonising second for the next contraction.
~•~
Soon it’s upon you. “It’s coming” you manage, before gripping me tightly again and dropping your chin down, closing your eyes and giving it all you’ve got.
I watch the oval shape between your legs quiver and a few seconds later start to move. You gasp, taking a breath and start again, still in mid contraction. More movement.
“Go! Go! Go!” I’m chanting, it seems to help. Finally your lips turn white, all blood drained from around them as they are stretched to their widest point.
You gasp and start panting, something primal in your memories from videos we have watched telling you to pant out the last push, and suddenly there’s a rush. You jump. There’s a gush of more fluid. My eyes go wide, and teary, what I’m seeing seems both the most natural thing in the world and at the same time the most unreal thing ever.
Deep in your squat, dangling between your legs, is the back of a baby’s head.
Your hand lets go of mine and reaches down to hold it. You’re bewildered, somewhat exhausted and sore, but you’ve accomplished a major milestone.
~•~
Gasping, my fingers delicately roam the whole circumference of the head that’s now outside of me. “Oh… hi baby.” I say softly to our child.
I look up at you and see the tears in your eyes. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I sob through my smile, not quite able to form any other words through the relief and awe of what’s just happened.
Your hand joins mine, cupping the head together as you lean forward to kiss me. It’s salty with my sweat and tears. “You, are incredible.” You whisper, our foreheads pressed together.
In no time at all, the respite is over and I’m squirming and shifting again in your arms from an approaching contraction. Letting go of our baby’s head my hands brace against my thighs.
“Hooooo- babe, need to move…” I groan, my legs and ankles suddenly protesting against the deep squatting position.
“Do whatever you need to do, where do you want to be?” You ask, trying to second guess what I’d want but also knowing I was acting entirely on natural instinct.
I couldn’t speak, instead my hands used your torso as a ladder - lifting myself up and getting down onto my knees, my feet pointed behind me in a v-shape. I felt instantly more stable, more in, kneeling so close to the floor.
The baby was on its way, its arrival immanent, I could sense it. Some primal instinct in my very DNA unlocked. I needed less physical support while on my knees so my hands released you, instead reaching behind to unclasp my bra. In my haste to remove my final layer of clothing, I forgot where we were for a moment and it was only on seeing your raised eyebrows I realise I’d whipped my bra off and casually thrown it overboard.
~•~
I couldn’t help it. I knew instinctively that I should be looking at you, but something made me follow the trajectory of your discarded underwear as I watched it soar over the side. My eyes followed it over the edge and as I lifted myself up off my haunches back to standing, I noticed the ground was very much closer than what I had expected.
“Jimmy… what’s happening?” I bellow out to our pilot. My brain went ‘he’s fainted, we’re going to crash’ and my natural instinct was to panic, but my eyes were drawn back to you, kneeling on the ground, hands back between your legs supporting the head of our baby. I couldn’t turn and look for him. Thankfully he returned the question with his own shouted answer.
“We’re nearly there. School field is just over there.” Relieved at his response, I briefly turned my head to look at him, to look at where his hand was pointing. I followed the direction and I saw blue lights in the distance. I saw a wide open area, which was the football and athletic fields of a school. I didn’t recognise it, but I knew we were nearly down. Your bra had landed in some unfortunate persons back garden. Might be some explaining to do for the occupants later.
I heard you grunt as my attention was drawn back to you. You looked radiant, like some sort of primal goddess, nude and backlit by the sun. I saw the baby had turned and you had started to push. Your grunts were audible as you pushed your hips forward, opening up the passage for the baby, your hands gently cupping its head.
Another grunt, and the first shoulder was free. A second grunt and the second shoulder. I dashed forward and skidded to the ground, stopping just in front of you with my hands skimming the ground between your legs, and more importantly directly under the baby which was out to its torso.
And with a triumphant yell from you, it flopped down into my hands, slick, covered in vernix, remnants of blood, and flooding my hands with yet more amniotic fluid.
“You did it baby…” I’m almost shocked thinking it’s all over.
~•~
Pure relief flooded through my entire body as the baby slipped into both of our awaiting hands. My mouth was dry, my brain in shock, and I’m only able to mumble “baby… baby…” over and over as I pick up the slippery newborn and immediately bring them to my bare chest. The need to see, to hold, to nurture was completely overpowering.
When the baby made its first gurgling cry against me I thought my heart may explode. I sagged back into the floor, exhaustion taking hold, and stared at the baby in my arms. Their little scrunched up face as they cried, their tiny hands with ten little fingers, their small feet with ten tiny toes. I had to see every inch of our baby, to check they were okay, and when I readjusted them against the curves of my body I announced “It’s a girl!”
You knelt next to me in the corner of the basket, looking over my shoulder totally transfixed and enamoured with our newborn. “You did it baby, I’m so proud of you!” You cupped my head and kissed the side of my face, my cheek, my shoulder, and eventually my lips. You couldn’t stop the emotional wave washing over you at the sight of your wife and newborn daughter beside you, wrapped in your arms.
I couldn’t quite believe it was over - the baby was here. Born in the basket of a hot air balloon. I stared down at our daughter and giggled to myself.
“What is it?” You asked, not able to wipe the beaming smile off your face.
“I can’t believe she’s here. That that just happened. That I just gave birth in a bloody hot air balloon!” The stress from the situation and relief that we were all alright had turned to exhausted hysteria, I simply couldn’t help the laughter.
“I guess she just wanted to make a grand entrance into this world.” You cooed, looking down at the infant already nuzzled against my breast.
“I think she might be a little troublemaker.”
“Just like her mother then.” You teased, kissing me again.
~•~
“Hang on tight” comes a call from Jimmy giving us a few seconds of warning where I grabbed hold of you as the balloon finally touched the ground with a thump. I threw your dress over you to cover your modesty as I got up to walk over and thank Jimmy for how well he had done in outrageous circumstances.
As I saw 2 paramedics dash towards the balloon as the gas valves were cut and the balloon itself started sinking to the ground behind us, I heard you give another groan.
“Baby?” I turn and look at you.
“I don’t know… another contraction.” You replied.
I dashed over. “No, can’t be. We had scans… there was only one baby in there.”
As the first paramedic threw their bag over the side of the basket at vaulted over the top I looked at them pleading.
“I don’t know what’s happening. The baby is born but she’s still having contractions. Is something wrong?”
“Let’s take a look see and figure this out, I’m sure it’s fine” came the professional sounding reply as his partner came on board.
They knelt down and looked you over, checking over the baby and declaring that everything was ok. They took a moment to clamp the baby’s cord, and rubbed your belly a little.
“Ok my dear… this looks good. Give me a good strong push” they instructed.
I gasped “is there another in there? We didn’t know.” The stress of the day was getting to me.
“No sir. Your wife is just ready to pass the afterbirth.” As he said it, he collected the placenta from between your legs and checked it over for completeness. “Well done, looks like this is about as close to a textbook delivery as can be… you know except for flying through the air whilst doing it.”
To say I breathed a sigh of relief would be an understatement.
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parkerslatte · 7 months
Text
Fighter
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: blood. injury. near death experience.
Summary: Azriel was severely injured on a mission and his chance of survival is low and his mate and wife refuses to leave his bedside.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Azriel was laid motionless in his bed. The only indication of life was the shallow rise and fall of his chest that seemed to get slower and slower day by day. On the left side of his bed, Rhys and Cassian sat looking helplessly at their brother before them. There wasn’t anything they could do for him no matter how much they wanted to. 
Sitting on the right side of Azriel’s bed was Y/N. Her hand clutched his still and cold one between hers tightly. There were dried tears under her eyes as she looked at her mate and husband before her. The blanket covering his body did little to show the large scar staring from his hip and ending at his shoulder. It was an angry red but Madja had calmed everyone that the redness would go down with time. 
“If only I didn’t send him on that stupid mission,” Rhys mumbled. “Then he wouldn’t be here.”
No one responded. The only sound heard was the rain hitting the window outside. 
Y/N brushed Azriel’s hair away from his forehead. After the mission it had been caked with blood and grime and now after many washes it was soft to the touch. She only wished she could listen to his small content sighs as her fingernails scratched his scalp. 
“Don’t blame yourself, Rhys,” Y/N replied after a while of silence. “He would have gone on that mission regardless.”
“But I could have gone with him,” Cassian said. “I could have protected him.”
“And possibly gotten yourself hurt as well,” Y/N responded, finally lifting her gaze to meet Cassian and Rhys. “Then we would be in a position where both of you could have been severely wounded.” Y/N’s gaze returned to Azriel. “I don’t wish for Nesta to feel the way I am right now.”
“You shouldn’t be feeling like this at all, Y/N,” Rhys said. “You two should be in your own house safe and sound.”
“Well that is an impossibility right now, Rhys.” Y/N’s tone was clipped and short. “I’m sorry to ask you this but could I be alone with him?”
Rhys and Cassian immediately got to their feet. “Of course,” Cassian responded. 
“If you want or need anything Y/N, make sure to ask,” Rhys said as he placed his hand upon Y/N’s shoulder. 
“I’ll be okay.” It was all Y/N said. It was all she could say. 
When Rhys and Cassian left she barely heard them as she let fresh tears fall. “Az, you need to come back to me, baby.” Y/N shuffled her chair closer to the bed, her knees knocking painfully against it but she didn’t care. “I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes.”
There was no movement from Azriel and it only made Y/N’s tears fall in a more rapid succession. 
“Madja healed you the best she could but she made no promises that you would wake up. But I need you to, my love. Please, just give me a sign that you are in there, please, just anything,” Y/N’s voice was full of desperation and she spoke to her husband. Y/N didn’t even know that something could be as painful as this.
Y/N watched Azriel for any sign of him listening to her. But there was nothing. No flicker of his eye under his eyelids. No stutter in his breathing. No twitch of his finger. There was absolutely nothing. 
Y/N screamed. 
***
The sun was high in the sky and Y/N stepped through the gate to her and Azriel’s cottage. It was on the edge of Velaris, far from the centre of the city. In her small wicker basket, Y/N had two fresh bouquets of flowers, courtesy of Elain. The blistering heat made Y/N wipe the sweat from her brow as she approached her front door, fishing the keys out of the basket. 
As she went to place the key in the hole, she found that the door was open the smallest amount and Y/N’s guard immediately went up. As her grip tightened on the basket, she pushed the front door open. Their living room was large but cosy, filled with many blankets and pillows of all different textures. The windchimes hanging just beside the front door sounded out as a small breeze blew bast. 
“Hello?” Y/N called out, reaching for the dagger concealed behind a painting Feyre gifted her. 
However, Y/N immediately dropped the dagger and basket as her mate walked around the corner. A smile immediately spread across Y/N’s face as she launched herself at him. 
“Hi, baby,” Azriel’s low voice whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around him. His arms making their way around her, his hand cradling her head. 
“You weren’t meant to be back yet,” Y/N said. 
“I finished what I needed to do early,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “The first thing I did was come here, even Rhys doesn’t know I’m back.”
Y/N gripped onto him tighter, afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. It had been two months since Rhys sent Azriel on a mission and it had been two months since Y/N had spoken to Azriel. The only contact she had with him was the wave of love he sent through the bond each night, but that was never enough. Y/N craved to hold him within her arms. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N replied. “I would have stayed here to wait for you.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Azriel said.
“Well it has been the best surprise ever,” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug to capture Azriel’s lips with her own. 
Azriel dropped his arms to her waist, wrapping them around her tightly. Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. “I missed you so much,” she said looking into his eyes. The colour ingrained into her brain.
“Well you’ll be happy to know that I won’t be going on any missions for a while,” Azriel said. 
“Why? Are you okay? Did Rhys tell you to take some time off?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought of the worst possible reasons. 
Azriel smiled brightly. The smile only Y/N got to see. “I’m fine, Rhys doesn’t know that I am taking time off yet.”
“Then why are you? Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Y/N said, pecking his lips. 
The smile on Azriel’s face only seemed to light up his face further. “Well since you and I are going to be planning a wedding, I will have no time for my duties.”
“Wedding?” Y/N asked. “What wedding?”
Azriel reached behind him. “Ours.” He revealed the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen. It was simple but it was perfect. 
Y/N stumbled back. “Az, you can’t be serious?”
“I’m completely serious,” Azriel said. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”
“But we have already been mated for years and you have never mentioned anything about getting married,” Y/N said.
“I saw how you looked when Elain and Lucien got married,” Azriel said. “And I’ll be honest that I bought this ring nearly a year ago, long before the wedding.”
“You want to marry me?” Y/N said, tears springing to her eyes. 
“I want nothing more in my life,” Azriel replied, taking her hand in his. “It would be an honour to call you my wife.”
A single tear fell down Y/N’s cheek but she smiled wide. “It would be an honour to call you my husband.”
“So is that a yes?” 
Y/N nodded. “Yes, Azriel. I will marry you.”
***
Y/N awoke with a smile on her face as she reached to the other side of the bed, searching for her husband’s warmth. Only when she opened her eyes did she realise what her reality was. Azriel was still laying in the bed and his breathing seemed even shallower than it had been before she fell asleep. 
Her chair scraped the floor as she leaned closer to caress his face. His dark eyelashes rested delicately on his cheeks, Y/N had always been jealous of them. There was no small flutter of them at all. All Y/N wanted him to do was open his eyes. His beautiful eyes. 
“Please,” Y/N whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. “Please wake up.”
“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway. Y/N hadn’t heard her open it. “I brought you some food.”
“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, her voice void of emotion.
Feyre sighed and made her way further into the room. “You need to eat something, it’s been days.”
“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, settling back in her seat but kept Azriel’s hand firmly clasped between hers. 
“At least have a drink of water,” Feyre said, offering a glass to Y/N. 
Y/N tore her gaze away from Azriel and looked at the glass Feyre was offering. She didn’t want to take it but her mouth was dry. With great reluctance, Y/N released one of her hands from Azriel’s and took the class of cool water. 
“Have you been here all night?” Feyre asked. 
“I haven’t left since he was brought in here,” Y/N answered. “I can’t leave.”
“I know that you don’t want to leave him, Y/N, but you need to take care of yourself too,” Feyre said gently. “Why don’t you get dressed in some clean clothes? I will stay here with Azriel and if he moves, I will immediately come and alert you.”
Y/N looked at her mate and husband laying on the bed. “I can’t leave because I know that if I do, there is the possibility that he stops breathing.” Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at Feyre. “And I will regret for the rest of my life that I was not there with him while he passed.” 
Feyre placed her hand on top of Y/N’s and gave it a small reassuring squeeze. “I have not known Azriel as long as you, Y/N. But what I do know about him is that he is a fighter. And above all, he will always fight for you, he will always fight to come back to you.”
Y/N sighed. “I know. And I will always fight for him. But this time it is different, Feyre. I have seen Az injured beyond what I thought could be possible. I have seen wounds like you would ever believe, but he powered through it. You never saw the look on his face when he appeared on the doorstep. He was scared, Feyre. I had never seen that look on his face before.”
Y/N took a shaky breath and stood from her chair and perched on the edge of Azriel’s bed. Her hand gently cupped his cheek. 
“I had never seen such fear in his eyes. When he collapsed in my arms he whispered one thing in my ear, ‘I will always love you both’. He did not believe that he would survive. He risked everything so he could see me one last time.” Y/N said. 
“‘I will always love you both’? What did he mean by that?” Feyre asked. 
“I’m pregnant, Feyre,” Y/N said and allowed the enchantment that concealed her scent to fall. “We were going to tell everyone after he was home and we had a few days just to ourselves. But it seems like we will never get the chance. I can feel the bond fading every single minute. It feels like I am clutching at air trying to hold onto it.”
“He will wake up, Y/N,” Feyre said, determination lacing her tone. “Even if I have to wake him up myself, I will make sure he comes back to you. I will make sure he will meet his child.”
Tears fell freely down Y/N’s cheeks. “I really need him to come back, Feyre. I can’t do any of this without him.”
“He will wake up, Y/N. Az would never leave you alone. In the years I have known you both, I have never seen two people so in love with one another. Whenever you walk into the room, he lights up. Whenever your name is mentioned he listens in. Whenever you smile at him, his shadows always seem happier. He thinks no one notices but we all do.”
“I love him so much, Feyre,” Y/N sobbed. “I need him so badly.”
Feyre shuffled closer and hugged Y/N. “He will come back. You will get to hold him in your arms again. He will meet his child and the two of you will live happily. There is no possible way on this planet where Azriel would let you live in a world where he isn’t in it.”
Y/N nodded into Feyre’s shoulder. “You make him sound like a stalker.”
Feyre let out a quiet laugh as she pulled away and wiped the tears from Y/N’s face. “Now let’s get you some proper food. Because you know that Azriel will kill you if he finds out that you are not taking care of yourself.”
Y/N smiled. It is small and barely there but it was a smile. “Yeah, he would.”
“I need to make Nyx his lunch so what do you say about sandwiches?” feyre asked. 
“Sandwiches are fine with me,” Y/N answered. 
As Y/N began to pull her hand away from Azriel’s, she felt his fingertips curl around hers. He head snapped to where they were connected. A small gasp left Y/N’s lips as she clutched his hand a little tighter. In return she was greeted by his grip twitching within hers. 
“He moved,” Y/N said. “He moved Feyre.”
A soft smile appeared on Feyre’s face. “He knows you’re here,” Feyre said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
As soon as Feyre was out of the room, Y/N sat back down by Azriel’s side. “Hey, baby. I miss you and love you.” Another gentle squeeze of Y/N’s hand. She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait until you wake up. It may be many months away, but our child is desperate to meet you. They’re desperate to hear your voice again. And so am I. I can’t wait to listen to you tell me about your day, about how much you love our small family. I can wait to hear a stupid joke you heard that you will only ever tell me. I just can’t wait until you wake up.”
Azriel didn’t squeeze Y/N’s hand again but deep down Y/N knew that he heard it and knew that she was there. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles before placing it down by his side once again. “I love you and I will see you later.”
***
It had been three days since Azriel had first squeezed Y/N’s hand and he had been making more movement since. His chest rose and fell in a healthier succession and there was the occasional twitch of his fingers, always in the direction of Y/N. Azriel was always reaching out in the direction of his mate and wife. 
Y/N still constantly remained by Azriel’s side, but occasionally took breaks to look after herself and the baby growing within her. Y/N had taken the time to inform the rest of the Inner Circle about her pregnancy and the news was greeted with congratulations but Y/N could tell they were holding back. The one other person who should have been celebrating with them could not be there. 
“I’m just saying that if it's a boy, you should name him after me,” Cassian said. 
Y/N had found herself once again in the company of Rhys and Cassian. Both of the males wanted to sit beside their brother in hopes he would wake up. Unlike the first time the three had sat together, the atmosphere seemed to be a little lighter. 
“Az is certain that it's a girl,” Y/N responded. “He wants to name them after his mother.”
Y/N looked down at Azriel with a small smile on her face. She could still picture his excitement when she told him that she was pregnant. Almost immediately he wanted to go out and start buying things for their child. 
“That’s sweet, but Cass can still be a girl’s name,” Cassian remarked, a teasing grin on his face. 
Y/N shook her head, a small amused smile creeping onto her face. 
Cassian groaned. “Rhys, when you and Feyre have another kid, what about the name–”
“I’m not naming our second child after you either,” Rhys replied. “Maybe go and pester Elain and Lucien next.”
Cassian laughed. “I still think it's a great name. You are missing out.”
“I’m not naming my child after you, Cassian,” A new voice entered the room. It was quiet and groggy.
Y/N’s gaze immediately shot down to the bed and noticed that Azriel’s eyes were opening and the grip he had on her hand tightened. 
Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes. “Az…”
Azriel groaned as he shifted his head to look at Y/N. As soon as his eyes met hers, Y/N felt the bond come to life and that was when she broke down. So many emotions filled Y/N within seconds and she threw herself down on the bed, her head resting on Azriel’s chest. 
“My love, I thought you were gone,” Y/N wailed. 
Azriel slowly moved one of his hands to caress the back of her head. “I would never leave you. Either of you.” His voice was quiet and hoarse, yet Y/N could hear the love within it. 
Y/N lifted her head to look at Azriel and noticed both Rhys and Cassian slowly making their way out of the room. She noticed the tears shining in their eyes. 
“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N said.
Azriel slowly pushed himself up on the bed, wincing in pain as he did so. 
“No, no,” Y/N said, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”
“I’ve done enough resting,” Azriel said, settling back against the headboard. “All I want to do is look at my wife and hold her in my arms.”
Azriel gently tugged Y/N forward until her forehead rested on his. “I heard everything you said to me.” He revealed. “I tried to move, I tried everything but I couldn’t. I had no way to reach you. I never thought I’d ever see you again. I never thought I would meet our child.”
A single tear fell down Azriel’s face and Y/N hastily wiped it away.
“It’s okay,” Y/N said, gently cupping his cheeks. “All that matters is that you are here and you are okay. We don’t need to think about that anymore because you are awake and here.”
“I love you,” Azriel whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” Y/N replied. “Just promise me that you are not going on any missions for a while.”
“I won’t be,” Azriel said. “I will not be leaving this court at all until our child is born and probably long after. I don’t want to be put in this position again. I don’t want you to ever nearly lose me again. I want to see our child grow up. I want to be by your side for eternity. No mission or job could ever come before my family.”
Y/N gently pecked his lips. “I am so glad you are here, my love.”
“I will always fight to get back to you, Y/N,” Azriel said, nothing but love in his tone. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”
Y/N didn’t respond verbally, instead she gently shuffled forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder. Azriel’s arms immediately latched around her, keeping her pressed against his body. Even when Y/N tried to pull away slightly to not hurt him, Azriel refused to let her. Y/N just relaxed into him. 
“Madja will need to come and check on you at some point,” Y/N mumbled. 
“Not right now,” Azriel said. “I just want to hold you right now.”
“Rhys and Cass will want to see you too,” Y/N said. 
“They can wait,” Azriel said. “And all the others can wait. Just for tonight I want to spend my time with my family. Just you and our child.”
Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “Then let’s just lay here all day then. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”
“I cannot believe how lucky I am that I have you in my life, Y/N,” Azriel said, the stubble on his face scratching her bare shoulder from where her robe had fallen. 
“I am the lucky one, Az,” Y/N said. “I am lucky enough to have someone who would fight so hard to come back to me.” Y/N leaned back from the hug and placed his hand on her stomach. “To us.”
“I love you,” Azriel said, wrapping his arms back around Y/N’s body. “I love you both.”
Y/N only hugged him tighter and that was the way the small family remained, completely wrapped up in their own little world.
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