#laying in my room vocal resting and getting him pregnant

[softnsquishable]

Cannot believe I'm finally working on a fic with consistent motivation and it's one no one cares about except me.

[indianamoonshine]

Life of Mine | Knight!Din x Reader | One shot

Summary: Little Odessa has fallen ill and Din is an absolute wreck. (Takes place in my little Knight!Din universe. Another one shot to ease my anxiety due to my illness.)

A/N: I’m a sucker for this forbidden romance. I’m also a sucker for Dad!Din. I don’t know who made the gif, but if you do, please let me know so I can credit them!

When Odessa was four months of age, she fell ill with a fever.

The illness didn’t have a terrible mortality rate, but the symptoms in babies reared its ugly head in a much more complicated manner. It brought about chills, a swelling of nasal passages, an influx of mucus buildup, and terrible headaches. Being of age, of course, meant that you were able to vocalize these symptoms; to complain of your ailments and receive the proper care. But being a child - a baby, worst of all - damns you with lack of the motor skills required to do such. This is just one of the reasons why Din Djarin was an absolute wreck.

The second was because he couldn’t see Odessa in the way that a father under any normal circumstance could check upon his daughter. Odessa wasn’t his officially - not in namesake or legality, anyway. According to the law - and the lore - Odessa was of the King’s blood, despite the fact that she looked nothing like him. Soon her temper will reveal her true parentage, as will the color of her eyes or her gait. Eventually the shade of her hair will beckon suspicion, as will her little mouth (which already looks so much like Din’s). That day is coming soon and its dawn draws nearer every evening. For now, however, is a different beast entirely.

Din knows you sleep in separate quarters from the king for the time being. Phillip didn’t take too much of a liking to your leaking breasts or the child’s cry, so you were moved into another wing of the palace far from his steely gaze. You were fine with, you had told Din more often than not; even overflowing with ecstasy because of your separation. In fact, you may fall pregnant more than any queen in Naboo’s history because of the exile. Anything to get away from the grubby, sickly hands of Phillip VII; even if it meant suffering for mere months at a time.

Din took this opportunity into his own hands way more often than he initially planned, but you were so far from the king and it was so tempting. He found himself lying with you in bed, watching the steady rise and fall of your naked chest while you slept so peacefully. And when Odessa wailed herself awake, Din always took her into his arms and cradled her unless she needed feeding. It was as close to domesticity as he could get and it was enough.

He enters the room through the servant’s door, but only after waiting until he heard your handmaid and nurse leave. The quarters are dim with candlelight and smell of lavender, which you keep bundles of to ward off any nightmares and aid for better sleep. The scent wafts through his nostrils until it is met with the sweet, though robust, smell of breast milk. He finds you laying flat upon your back with little Odessa snuggled in your bosom, though she breaths raggedly.

He smiles, despite the state of his child’s health. She was still alive - still breathing, even if shallowly. He traces the infant’s button nose with a feather-like touch, careful to not wake her from her slumber. It may have taken hours to get her to rest in her illness. He switches to the cheek of her mother, but glides his fingers through your mess of hair in an endearing embrace. He wishes to lay beside you.

So he does. He crawls into bed with you, gently enough to avoid jostling the child. When he settles, he lifts the blanket to cover the three of you with a practiced ease, and brings you closer to his chest. The three of you marinate in the stillness, relishing in its uneventfulness.

Despite Din’s efforts to be still, your eyes flutter awake nonetheless. Upon seeing him beside you, the heartbeat that had been so calm and steady rises in tempo against your ribcage. He smiles at you with a warmth no one else in this godforsaken country ever has.

“Hi,” you whisper to him. You reach for his cheek and he bends to your caress, allowing himself to relax in the touch. “When did you come in?”

“Just now,” he replies, kissing the heel of your palm.

You hum quietly. The two of you are careful to raise your voices any more in fear of waking Odessa. She sleeps soundly against you, little fingers curled around a strand of your hair.

“How is she?” he asks you, a fatherly disposition showing in his concern.

You ache for him. To not be able to see his little one is excruciating and you’re more than aware of it. To bear witness as he watches Odessa in public in the arms of strangers, as he suffers through events in which Phillip refers to her as his daughter…if there was anything you could have in the world, it would be that the three of you run away. To live happily with one another in solitude.

But it was impossible.

You bring your finger to caress the silk of the baby’s cheek. She nuzzles in your touch just slightly, but remains in slumber. “She’s tired.”

Din swallows unspoken frets beside you. “What did the doctor have to say?”

Odessa gums her mouth, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, and makes a bit of a gurgling noise. You smile down at her, enjoying the little quirks of her behavior. She’s always been a good-natured baby, even when sick. Every time she threw up, she’d look upon whoever was holding her, and smiled afterwards as though to comfort them. You suppose she gets that from Din; you never do well with becoming sick. She already had nerves of steel.

“She’s past the worst of it. He says she’ll make a full recovery, but she needs more rest than usual. He ordered us to isolate,” you tell Din, running your hand across the expanse of her head. She was born with a full-mane of thick, dark hair and it hasn’t thinned out since. It was just more proof she was of Din’s blood, as Phillip had been balding since his twenties.

Din looks upon his darling girl, noting the way her cheeks were flushed just slightly. He brought a thumb to rub a circle in her cheek. She was warm. Not clammy, but tepid. Something sour twists in his gut.

“She feels warm,” he informs you, as though you haven’t been without holding her for days.

You can’t help but smile at his concern. In all ways, he was the best of them. “She’ll be alright, my love.” You place your free hand on the side of his neck, noting his steady pulse. “And what of you?”

“What about me?” he mumbles, stare never leaving his daughter’s peaceful form.

Odessa yawns, her rose-petal lips forming into a perfect ‘o’.

“Are you well?” you ask.

He nods without hesitance. “I was about to ask you the very same.”

“I’m quite alright.” You smile at him, noting the uniqueness of his nose. That was the one physical trait Odessa hadn’t inherited from him. You suppose it was a blessing in disguise, as it was the most prominent of his looks; had Odessa the shape of it, they would be found out instantaneously.

Din sighs, bringing his forehead upon yours. His breath fans against your lips, his hands encircling your waist more tightly. He wouldn’t lie to himself; this was the most comfortable he’d been in weeks. He found himself slipping into unconsciousness.

“Go to sleep,” you tell him, ghosting your lips against his.

But Din is stubborn. He shakes his head. “No. I can’t waste another moment with you.”

“We are safe in your arms. That is not a waste,” you whisper.

He allows himself to steadily exhale and nod against his better intentions, bringing himself to rest in the crook of your neck. And eventually, the sound of Odessa’s breathing lulls him into a heavy, long overdue, sleep.

[lixiepeach]

Red Moon Drabble Series - Part 11

Summary: Hyunjin figures out he really likes it when Hana is pregnant. 

Warnings: Fertility rituals, pregnancy, semi-detailed description of labor, Hyunjin has a pregnancy kink.

These all relate back to the original story. It helps to have read the story before reading through the drabbles. The story can be found on the Masterlist.

MASTERLIST

Hana startles awake as someone shakes her. Hyunjin is standing over her in the dark room, dressed and holding her robe. She had been dead asleep, getting much needed rest in Seungmin’s room. Regardless of her annoyance at Hyunjin for waking her, she lets him pull her up, wrapping her robe around her before thumping down the stairs behind him. 

The moon is high in the sky, full and shining down on them. Hyunjin leads her into the yard, towards a blanket set out. She’s still sleepy, letting Hyunjin strip her out of her pajamas. She stands there naked in the moonlight, watching Hyunjin as he grabs the bowl sitting next to the blanket. She watches him as he begins to paint her skin with a red substance, covering her with lines and sigils. She can’t tell in the moonlight what the liquid is, it could have been blood for all she knew. 

He focuses on her stomach, painting sigils over her pelvis. 

“What are you doing?” She asks as he pushes her back onto the blanket, parting her knees. “My heat is still a week away.” 

“Fertility ritual.” He states simply, mixing something in a jar. “Nothing is guaranteed with this kind of magic. But anything that might make it easier.” 

He leans over her, holding the jar to her lips. She drinks the foul tasting liquid, some of it spilling out of the corners of her mouth. He dribbles a line of the liquid down her body, letting it slide between her legs. Her body begins to buzz, like she’s about to start floating. 

Hyunjin splays a hand over her pelvis whispering quietly. She begins to feel warm, the heat blooming outward from her abdomen. Hyunjin presses a kiss to her stomach, trailing the kisses up her body to her mouth. 

***********

Hana lays on the bed in the heat room, candles and various statues placed around the room. Hyunjin was determined to get it in one go, having spent the last week trying every fertility ritual he could find on the two of them. He was lighting the last of the candles, Hana rubbing her thighs together as slick begins to leak out of her. 

“You’re sure about this?” Hyunjin asks once more, kneeling on the end of the bed. “I can’t give you what you really need. You’re going to be uncomfortable for two weeks.” He slides his hands up her thighs. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll send one of the alphas in. We can just...give up.” 

Hana grips his chin, fighting the lust starting to take over. “No. We’re going to do this. No matter how many tries it takes. Besides, you shouldn’t complain. You get to fuck me non-stop for two weeks.” 

Hyunjin gives her a wicked grin, parting her legs finally, leaning down to kiss her. 

**********

Hana wakes sticky and starving. She’s laying against Hyunjin’s chest, his arm wrapped loosely around her. There’s a half empty water bottle next to him, and several more empty ones on the floor. She vaguely remembers Seungmin coming in halfway through to clean up the mess of wrappers, bottles, and containers. She remembers more this time. There had been less of a haze with the lack of an alpha’s knot. 

It had been a horribly painful two weeks, but she would never admit that. 

“Do you think it worked?” She asks, tracing patterns on Hyunjin’s chest. 

“We’ll find out in a couple weeks.” 

“If it doesn’t, we’ll try again.” She says, pushing herself up slightly. “We’ll try until it does work.” 

Hyunjin stares up at her, hand tracing her back. “It’s times like this I wish I was still an alpha.” 

“Hey.” She grips his chin, staring into his eyes. “I said it from the start. No matter what it takes. I want your baby, Hyunjin. No matter how many heats we have to try. I want to give you a baby.” 

Hyunjin reaches over, grabbing one of the statues. “If we’re lucky, the magic worked.” 

“Even if it didn’t,” Hana lays her head back on his chest. “We’ll try again in six months.” 

***********

“Anything?” Hyunjin asks, pacing across the living room. 

“It hasn’t been ten minutes yet.” Changbin says, looking up from where he’s trying to get Cho-Hee to say “dada.” 

Chan is laying on the floor, being used as a human racetrack for the twins’ trucks. It was their new favorite game and Chan was always down to lay on the floor and let the boys play. Fatherhood had really softened him, just as much as it had Changbin, but she knew the alphas would kill to protect their kids if it ever came to it, probably more than they’d be willing to kill to protect their pack. She feels just as anxious as Hyunjin looks. She loves her three babies, but she also wants more. 

It’s partly the instincts as a female omega and luna to want a big pack with lots of pups. Omegas never could quite get rid of the instinct to provide the pack with offspring, even after generations of evolution. It stemmed from the harsh lives wolves used to live, the chances of pups making it to puberty was low, so more pups meant more chances for offspring to make it. The need for pups never went away, the desire to have as many as possible never leaving the omega instincts. 

That, and she knew how much Hyunjin wanted his own. He had been less vocal about it than Changbin, and even a couple others, but she knew. She knew from the glances he’d give the pups when he thought no one was looking. How he’d volunteer to hold them or play with them whenever he could. How much work he had put into making sure every fertility ritual was done correctly, all the research he did to try and find out just how likely it was for him to get her pregnant, all the tricks he could try to make it happen the first time. She knew the others were taking notes as well. It would be a struggle from here on. 

The timer on her phone goes off, the room going still as she picks up the pregnancy test. Even the twins have stopped playing, sensing the tension in the four adults. She looks at the test, closing her eyes for a moment as she takes a breath. 

She can’t hide the grin anymore, showing Hyunjin the test. He stares at it in shock, taking it from her hands. She laughs as he scoops her up in excitement, kissing her. Even Cho-Hee claps in excitement, even though she doesn’t understand why they’re excited. 

“It worked.” She breathes, cupping Hyunjin’s face. “It worked.” 

“I told you there’s some alpha in there still!” Changbin says.

*********

Hana lays still, listening to the heartbeat in her stomach. There’s only one again this time, the single heartbeat loud and strong. Hyunjin rubs his hands over her stomach, rubbing the cream into her skin. He was completely enamoured anyways, hands constantly on her stomach, wrapping around her from behind, always sleeping with at least one hand over her stomach. She hums as he moves his hands to her hips, massaging the sore joints. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, hands moving to her thighs. 

Hana cracks her eyes open, looking down at Hyunjin over her stomach. “I feel like a whale.” 

He smirks, pressing kisses to her stomach. “But you look so sexy pregnant.” 

Hana had discovered Hyunjin’s desire to have a pup went deeper than she thought it had. He had been touchy with the other pregnancies, but now, he couldn’t help himself. He kept talking about how sexy she was, how much he loved seeing her pregnant. She knows part of it is his excitement for his pup. But apparently, he also found her more attractive while pregnant. 

Hana wraps her arms around him as he hovers over her. “Be easy tonight. My back hurts.” 

Hyunjin rolls her to her side, pressing himself close behind her. He wraps his arms around her, one hand on her stomach, the other under her head. He cradles her as he ruts into her, moaning quietly into her ear. They weren’t as wild as they used to be, now that there were pups in the house. It was a natural thing in packs, but Hana didn’t want to subject her pups and their developing senses to that. Not that they would understand yet. 

Hyunjin makes her cum first, cleaning up after spilling into her. He lays back down behind her, holding her stomach. 

“Soon.” She whispers, placing her hands over his. 

***************

Hyunjin’s hands are shaking as he kneels between her legs. He was determined to be the one to bring his child into this world. He had helped with the twins and with Cho-Hee, so it only felt right to deliver his as well. 

“I can do this if you need me to.” Minho says, looking at Hyunjin’s shaking hands. 

“No. I can do it.” 

“We’re getting close.” Chan says, wincing as Hana squeezes his hands, another contraction ripping through her. 

He was seated behind her, supporting her body as she squatted between his legs. It was the position she stuck to, birthing the other three the same way. She had asked Chan to be with her, wanting her alpha’s support. 

Hyunjin presses on her stomach as she contracts again, almost no time between them now. “Okay, you can start pushing.” 

Chan whispers into her ear as she bears down, pushing with each contraction. Hyunjin watches the head begin to crown, Minho ready with towels. His son comes into the world screaming, right into Hyunjin’s hands. He tries to blink back the tears, staring down at the small living, breathing being in his hands. He had taken part in making him. This was his son. His own son. 

He lets Minho take his son as he tries to focus on finishing his job. He was in love already, and suddenly understood how something so small had taken down both of the most powerful alphas in the pack. Even Minho with his uncaring front was putty in their hands and he got it now. He understood. 

“Go on.” Minho pushes him aside. “I’ll finish cleaning up.” 

Chan moves from behind Hana, letting Hyunjin take his place. Hana is holding their son now, wrapped in his blanket. Hyunjin wraps his arms around both of them, looking down at him over her shoulder. He presses a kiss to Hana’s head, still damp with sweat. 

“He’s so beautiful. You did so good.” 

“You had a hand in him too.” Hana says, looking back at him. 

She’s practically glowing. She always had a glow about her post-birth. Hyunjin loves it, seeing her like that. He leans his chin on her shoulder, staring down at his son. He can’t help the tears now, tracing a finger over his soft little cheek. 

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[cptnbvcks]

Ok but think abt phone sex with javi (I mean it IS cannon that if you call him at work saying you want his cock in you, he'll run out of the office like it's on fire to go fuck)

dial tone (javier peña x reader)

words: 1.3k

rating: mature/explicit (18+)

summary: you decide to have some fun with javi (and murphy) after feeling a little bored while he’s at work. 

warnings: phone sex, female masturbation, mild murphy tease/cuckhold-y. 

a/n: its kinda short kinda hot might blueball you too i’m sorry

(gif source: @december-nimbus​)

“Hey, Murph, is Javi there?”

Tucking the bulky landline receiver between his cheek and his shoulder, Murphy lifted his gaze from the growing molehill of paperwork that had slowly begun to consume the pair of crudely shoved together desks. 

The Embassy was busy tonight; the hallways humming low with indistinct conversations that all seemed a little too antsy for the time of night. The white-noise drawl was loud, but not loud enough to mask the pillow-soft voice at the other end of the line. Murphy shifted the phone closer to his ear.

“He’s a little tied up right now,” Murphy offered, casting a lazy glance over to the glass paneling that separated Messina’s office from the rest of the space. He bit down the smirk that tried to work its way from his mouth to his voice as he watched Javier pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance while mutedly listening to Messina chew him out, “Pissed off Messina again.” 

A hazy little laugh bubbled from the other side of the line, drawing its end on a breathless sigh. Murphy raised a brow, lowering his gaze to the phone cord as his thoughts pinwheeled around that airy amused sound. 

“I think he likes her,” your voice pulls molasses slow from your throat; slow and honeyed enough that it makes him swallow and shift the phone against his ear again, “He only pisses off people he likes.” 

“Then he must love me,” Murphy rallied back, winning another chimed laugh that made him feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar when his partner met his gaze from behind the glass walls. Murphy straightened his back and pointed to the receiver, mouthing your name as Javier began to respectfully wave Messina off.

“Oh, I think he loves you more than he loves me, Murph,” You sigh around his nickname and fight the smile that arches your lips at the pregnant pause that suspends the air with phone static. 

“If I knew any better, I might be jealous,” The words come more urgently now, catching heavy in your throat and Murphy can’t help but note that it sounds like you’re laying down. Even more so when he hears the soft fabric shuffle of sheets. His brain sputters as your words curl tighter. “Should I be jealous, Murph?” 

Murphy opens his mouth, bone dry and fumbling for a response as he watches Javier swing open Messina’s door. He clears his throat and tries again.

“No, ma’am,” he manages, swapping the phone from one ear to the other as Javier shakes his head at him before adding the folder in his hands to the cascading collection already pooling over the desks. Murphy follows his partner with his eyes as the man sits back heavily in the adjacent chair and makes no explicit move to take over the line of conversation.

Murphy arches a brow at the phone, and Javier shakes his head again as he drags his typewriter closer. 

A quiet hum purred through the warp of the phone line, testing the softer octaves of your vocal cords as the words pulled from your throat.

“You still there, Murph?” 

“We’re a little busy out here right now, sweetheart,” Murphy offers, his tone clipped and quick as he stared at Javier, who was doing a pointed job of working, “Want me to pass on a message—?” 

The words abruptly staggered to a halt in his mouth.

Did he just… hear you moan?

“I don’t think you can pass on this— this message, Stevie.” 

Oh.

Oh.

Your words are swallowed and thick and the sudden pause in Murphy’s words draws Javier’s attention just as the man juts the receiver out across the table for him to take. Murphy tips his head and shoots him a look that says you better take this.

The next voice you hear is Javier’s. Heady and deep and razing warm from his chest with that baritone that made your cunt clench with emptiness.

“Baby—” He exasperates into the receiver, his voice laden and heavy as he pins Murphy with an irate expression that quickly falters when you wrap your lips around his name and gasp for it like you’ve been holding your breath from the minute you called in. 

“Javi— Javi, baby—” 

Your words are light and triumphant and they hang in the air of little quick gasps that sound far too loud and too intimate for the ugly glaring fluorescents of the unquiet Embassy. He looks away from Murphy then, who’s making a point of distracting himself by tapping out a cigarette from its carton, and hunches down in his chair to shoulder the room. 

You whine again, a high and tight sound that makes his cock stir to life in his jeans. Javi casts his eyes across the room, lowering his voice when he speaks with those abrasive words masked with the thin veil of both threat and intrigue. “What do you think you’re doing, mija?”

“I just— mm, fuck— I miss you, Javi. Needed t-to hear your voice—” 

The sheets shuffle again, faster this time, and Javier doesn’t need to see you to know that it’s the sound of your feet kicking off the covers. He doesn’t need to be there to know that it’s your fingers curling and twisting deep in that pretty little pussy of yours that’s already so wet and aching and weeping for him.

Fuck, maybe if the Embassy was quieter he’d be able to hear every soaked noise it made while you listened to him speak. Instead, he presses the receiver closer to his ear.  

“I’m working, baby. I can’t—” 

You choke out a pathetic little noise then — a simpering tone that glimmers in the bedroom air every fucking time he digs the pad of his thumb up against your soft clit. He knows the way your thighs jolt every time he does it; the way it pulls the air, gasping and empty, right from your lungs. 

“Then put Murphy back on the line.” 

The baseless taunt drops into the pit of Javier’s stomach and coils hot and insidious and you’ve placed the checkmate that’s gotten him moving immediately. Murphy looks up from where he’s been pretending to read a Centra Spike transcript, watching now as Javier snuffs out his cigarette and impatiently yanks out the half-typed page from the typewriter reel.

“Say that again, sweetheart. See what happens.” 

Your cunt bottoms out at the warning; clenches wetly around your curled fingers until your hips instinctively roll harder into your palm. Your exhale catches clearly on the other end of the line and Javier stands up with enough suddenness that his chair skitters back across the tiled floor. 

“Javi?” Murphy voices his concern but Javier’s more focused on the hasty words that begin to fall from your mouth, and he knows you’re on the edge of something devastating with enough wickedness in you to try to drag him down too.

“Do you think he’d help me?” You croon, panting quick around every syllable as you listen to Javier’s breathing hitch to match your own, “Do you think he knows that I’ve got two fingers curled up in my pussy, thinking about you, Javi? I—I think he heard me. You know how loud I get s-sometimes. How wet—”

The line goes dead before you finish the thought. 

“I’m heading out,” he blurts out to Murphy, dropping the phone into its cradle before snatching up his leather jacket from the back of his seat and yanking it on, “I’ll be back in an hour.” 

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Javi.” 

There’s a note of amusement in Murphy’s voice and Javier pauses, one foot already ascending the step leading to the main exit. He stops and turns, watching as Murphy tucks his cigarette back into his mouth and pours himself a glass from the half-empty whiskey bottle. 

“Did she say something to you?” 

Murphy’s brow lifted as he looked from Javier’s pointed finger before meeting his half-accusing stare. He leaned back into his chair until it groaned in protest and raised his hands defensively. 

“Not a word.” 

—

Tag List

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[elriell]

The Seer of Shadows

Chapter One—  A Fateful Return

It came once more, cold and forceful as it so often did, ripping open her thoughts and bleeding through her unconscious mind. It surged like a powerful river, the running rapids numbed her hearing completely, the soft dreamworld fading to a dark loveless expanse. The terror would only continue to grow inside her, though asleep her whole body seizing with dread, spilling over into reality and it would end how it inevitably always did.

Feyre had thought to comfort her throughout many months, speaking of how the nightmares would get easier and with time the dark clouds that settled over her during sleep would slowly grow weaker and would eventually go away all together. However what she had not told her sister, nor anyone for that matter was that the opposite was true. For her nightmares where only growing stronger, and her sleep shorter each day.

Elain’s scream clawed itself out her throat violently, weaved its way through the night settling in the air, chilling her own blood.  

As she attempted to calm her racing heart which could be heard pounding in her ear like war drums, she knew she could not go on like this for much longer the short bursts of sleep scarcely got her through the day and she grew paler and frailer by the day. It was infinitely frustrating feeling powerless, the backpeddling of her recovery since that terrifying day at the Cauldron, but try as she might she was wilting away like one of her favorite flowers during the winter season.

Disturbing her from her musings a sharp crisp knock sounded at the door. It was during these moments she became most afraid, because the truth was, she never quite knew whether she was dreaming whilst asleep or drifting whilst awake, her visions felt so real, so true, it confused even her own mind. As dread heighten once again, she tugged at the sheets, submerging herself beneath them willing the horrible images that flickered in front of her eyes though her lids remained closed.  

Gentle but firm, the voice called out, “Elain?” At first it was dulled by the ringing in her ears until it came again, louder, clearer, finally breaching her murky thoughts.  

At that her heart felt like it came to a stop momentarily, though it made her feel better to hear his comforting voice, the male on the other side of the door did little to slow the rhythm of her heart.

Taking a deep breath, once then twice more, she vocalized her internal thoughts. “Azriel, what are you doing awake so late?” Or early she supposed, depending on how you looked at it. She hadn’t been aware he had returned after so many weeks away; the shadow-singer had been gone on an important task with the Illyrians, alongside her sister and Cassian. Rhysand had casually informed her over dinner one night after she couldn’t bear to wonder any longer and perked up the nerve to ask, she had not realized quite how accustomed she had become to his quiet strength and companionship. Ordinarily she might not have noticed his absence quite so much, however with Nesta ‘s departure to the mountains as well it had left quite the notable hole in her life.  

“I was returning from the mountains when I thought I heard a scream from the other end of the house, I thought I would seek out the source of the sound. Are you alright?” Azriel paused, he seemed apprehensious to continue but his voice picked back up again, just as clear as before. “May I come in if it is not an imposition.”

Casting a glance down herself she was relieved to see she appeared relatively decent, though sweat lined her temple and her hair was a tangled mess from thrashing about, she supposed he had seen her in far worse states throughout the years. Smoothing her hand through the tendrils in a half-hearted attempt to separate the sweat plastered hair lining her face, and righting the nightwear from off her shoulder.

“Of course.” She replied with a confidence she did not truly feel though the quiver in her voice almost certainly betrayed her.

The door released gently and as it unlocked the candlelight from the hall trickled in slowly, the glow framed his shape casting the rest of him in shadows but there was no doubt who the tall figure with broad wings belonged too, sapphire syphons glimmering across his torso, they seemed to thump steadily almost in unison with her own heart.

There was a stillness in him that set her on edge, though it had only been a few weeks it seemed like a lifetime ago as he stood quietly in the doorframe, whatever calm understanding had grown between them over months prior seemed to be absent. Tonight, he was tenser than usual she could read it in the creases of his forehead, in the tension of his torso, his whole being was screaming out for release. Not to mention his shadows rippled around him, very unusual for him to allow them such free range around her.

"I apologize for disturbing you, I did not realize I was quite so loud.”  

He remained far from her by the now shut door, keeping his eyes downcast probably in some chivalrous attempt to allow her to maintain some modicum of privacy. He was always like that Azriel, gentlemanly to the core.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” His siphons glowing vividly in the dim room.

She knew he was only being kind to her as he always was, nonetheless she appreciated the gesture, did not have the energy to sustain any sort of façade she had been prolonging for Feyre. She had so much to worry over already, what with being pregnant. It certainly wasn't the time for her to fret about her again, so she kept her rising demons to yourself.

“How often has this been happening?” He queried gently, it was so low she had barely heard him, almost as if he had been speaking to himself.

“Not frequently.” Only constantly.

He searched her face for any trace of a lie and she knew with his experience, and intelligence he was likely to see the lie for what it was, if he did, he made no comment on the deception, allowing her this secret. And for that she was infinitely grateful.

He did not speak for a while the silence between them louder than the usual tranquility she was accustomed to when it came to the shadow-singer. Tonight, was different. Perhaps whatever happened in Illyria had put him on edge, at the verge of his control, because the silence between them was anything but serene.

“There are many who don't wish to sleep for fear of nightmares. Sadly, there are many who don't wish to wake for the same fear. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky ours are the former.”  

“You get night-terrors too?” She guessed.

No hesitation. “Of course.”

It was hard to imagine such a strong and stoic man being capable of being rendered powerless by a mere dream, more likely he was trying to make her feel better about her weaknesses, for the fragility of her mind some days. She wondered if going mad might be easier, if she simply let it pull her under, perhaps she could finally get some much needed rest.  

Elain implored genuinely, “And how do you cope with them?” He took his time to ponder her words, carefully picking the ones he would use.

“I want to keep my dreams, even bad ones, because without them, I might have nothing all night long.”    

“That seems inordinately sad.”

A soft chuckle, and then, “Never.” Pause. “Have you spoken to Feyre about your nightmares? From the look of your eyes, I am guessing she knows...”

“No, no... I do not wish to worry her, what with everything going on and all, it would be unfair. Anyway, it is all under control so there will be no need to lose sleep over it.” The god of Irony was looking down upon her she was sure. However, it was her best bet at making sure he did not seek Feyre out and tell her, so she would reason with him, certain he was aware of her sister's delicate condition.

"Mhm.” He fiddled with his rings. “Would you like me to do anything? I could bring you a sweat tea...” Azriel was looking around the room as if it would divulge all the answers to him, or mayhap to avoid looking at her. As the thought manifested, she considered how improper this was, how intimate this room was to her and even further still as she lay in short silk underthings with only a thin sheet covering her lean form.  

“I can wait for you to fall asleep before leaving, if you'd like?” Damn— She had not realized how long her musings had gone on for, taking her silence as a refusal he had persevered on.  

“Oh no, that's quite alright. I am sure I have a tonic around here Madja gifted me.” She refused to tell anyone she had ran out quite some weeks ago, believing she could regain control of her nightmares, perhaps that was ill-advised on her part. Continuing on, “Truly, I was not expecting such a rough sleep or I would have had some before laying to rest.”

A lie, regrettably. Elain felt a heap of shame envelop her but it was no more than she would feel at the look of pity she was sure to receive if anyone knew the truth of it.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Azriel was anything but at ease tonight himself, so at odds with his usually calm steady demeanor. He appeared to be contemplating his next words carefully but settled—

“Well should you need me at any point I'm in the West Wing. Day or Night.”

She offered him a appreciate smile, again it was out of kindness he offered, but it was no matter why as she knew with absolute certainty that she would never take him up on that offer. She watched him take his leave and some part of her rebelled and she murmured, “Oh, Azriel... I am glad you are back home.” A blush rose to the surface quick and hot.

He paused abruptly; his hand was paused wrapped around the doorknob and stayed so as if glued to it, though frustratingly, she could not make out his face with his back towards her, the air within the room seemed to vibrate over her skin, raising goosebumps along the length of her arms. The tension that he had been holding in since he arrived seemed to reach its crescendo, his shadows growing and rising higher up his body swiftly covering him as if safely tucking away whatever was eating away at him.  

She could not be certain as the shadows pooled around them and pulled the room deeper in to darkness but she caught the slight movement as he ducked his head in a nod, a poor attempt to acknowledge that he heard her.

Elain wasn't even sure if that was just her imagination playing tricks because as quickly as she could think it, he regained himself and pulled the door open wide and fast, causing a rush of air to flow over her cheeks, Azriel was through the doorway and a mere shadow before she could even blink.  

All that remained was the fading light from the halls as her door gradually closed on its own accord.

She would lay there for many hours to come, eventually falling back in to dreamland, though this time when she returned her thoughts were filled less of a frigid baren land and replaced by visions of dark mountains scattered with wild-flowers, gentle wind chimes sounding through the trees and a small but beautiful cabin lay ahead.  

Although the inky sky should have filled her with fear there was no such unease here, the shadows seemed blanket her, appeared to comfort her in this foreign land, welcoming her home, even though she was certain she had never visited such a place before.

Elain was not able to identify anything familiar but its presence loomed over her in a intimate embrace and the soft smell of roses soothed her soul and coxed her in to a deep sleep.

The respite would not remain so for long, as the cold abyss would return on her next sleep as the sun set beyond the hills, summoning her to the icy void where reality was far from her reach.

As usual if you wish to be added or removed just let me know 🖤

@theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @verifiefangirl @stars-falling @abraxos-is-toothless @tswaney17 @elrielllll @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books​ @julemmaes​ @thefangirlofhp

[mermaidsneedwater]

before your period

⇒ jaebeom

Jaebeom walked into the kitchen expecting to see you doing something normal. What he found was you standing by the microwave, and massaging your breasts.

“Um, should I go?” He asked, feeling awkward he had caught you like that.

“No, I just feel sore. And I have the worst cramps ever.” You turned around, saying sadly, “I’m just warming up my heating pad.”

Walking to wrap his arms around you from behind, “I’m sorry this stuff is so hard for you. Is there anything I can do?”

Leaning back into his arms, you turned to him, “You can bring me my heating pad, I'm going to lie down on the couch.”

“Of course baby,” Jaebeom kissed your temple.

As you waited on the couch, you smiled when Jaebeom brought your pad. Thanking him, you spoke “I’m definitely getting my period soon, I never feel this way unless it’s coming.”

“I know, I think you’re getting it in three days,” Jaebeom remarked, sitting next to you.

“You know my cycle?” You asked, surprised he paid that much attention.

“Obviously, I have to be prepared for when it’s coming.”

⇒ mark

You’d forgotten that Mark was a light sleeper.

“Oh fuck.”

Mark sat up in bed, turning on the light, “What-Who’s there?” Realizing it was just you, he relaxed. “What are you doing? Why are you up so late?”

“I couldn't sleep,” you admitted, holding a book in your hand. “I thought I’d read, but I left my glasses in here. When I tried to get them, I tripped on a shoe.”

“Leave the book, lay down with me.” He said, laying back down in bed.

“I’m about to get a visit from Aunt Flow.” you said, crawling into bed and laying in his arms.

Mark laughed at the way you phrased it saying, “Are you twelve?”

“I’m serious, I can always tell because I can never sleep.” You frowned in the dark. “Say something.”

“Something.” 

“Mark!” You whacked him lightly. 

“Okay, okay, should I sing?” He asked, eyes closed.

“Yes.”

As Mark began to sing, you couldn’t help but close your eyes, drifting off to sleep in your boyfriend’s arms.

⇒ jackson

Jackson opened the front door of your home, finding you sitting on the couch.

“Hi babygirl,” he said.

“Hi,” you turned off the TV and got up to greet him.

As you came closer, Jackson unveiled a bouquets of your flowers. Surprised you got close and smelled them.

“What are these for?” You asked, taking them from him.

“No reason in particular. I saw them on my way home, and I thought of you.” Jackson smiled, wanting to see your reaction.

You looked at the flowers, and then at Jackson. Tears welled in your eyes as you went to wipe them.

Jackson’s face fell as he saw the tears fall. “Oh no, do you hate it? Did I get the wrong kind of flowers?”

You hugged Jackson, burying your face in his chest, he patted your head softly trying to comfort you.

“I love it.” You said. Pulling back, you wiped your tears. “It was so thoughtful, I just felt like crying!”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like them.” Jackson said awkwardly. “Can I say something?”

“What?” you asked. 

“Are you about to get your period?”

“Yes.” You admitted, “But I really did appreciate the flowers,”

⇒ jinyoung

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do it!” You snapped at Jinyoung.

You were taking a day trip to the mountains, but the trunk of the car wouldn’t fit all your stuff. It was beginning to feel like a game of Tetris.

You took everything out of the trunk and began to repack.

“Okay, tell me what you want me to do.” Jinyoung said calmly.

“Nothing.” You said frustrated. “Just go start the car.”

He stood not listening, watching you struggle. “Sweetheart, I can help you.”

“Just go! I told you what you can do, go start the car!” You said angrily.

Wordlessly, Jinyoung went to the front seat and started the car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He watched you from the rear view wondow, keeping an eye out if you couldn’t actually get the stuff to fit.

After about fifteen minutes, you got in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

“Let’s go.” You grumbled.

Jinyoung pulled out of the lot and silently drove. You caught glimpse of your reflection in the mirror to find your emotions so clearly displayed on your face.

Looking out the window, you watched as cars passed by. Letting your anger dissipate you finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jinyoung said, placing one hand on yours.

“It was just so frustrating, getting all the stuff in.” You admitted. “And I think I’m getting my period soon.”

“Don’t get mad again, but I figured.” Jinyoung told you. “You’re never really like that unless it’s close to that time.”

⇒ youngjae

You groaned, rubbing your temples attempting to relieve yourself from the excruciating pain. Wincing, you rushed to bathroom cabinet, looking for some medicine to ease it.

“ba ba ba ba ba.” You heard Youngjae warming up his vocal chords. “Ni ni ni ni ni.”

Unable to find the medicine, you headed to your bed, attempting to sleep off the headache.

As you laid down with the pillow on your head, Youngjae walked into the room looking for you.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You replied.

“Oh, can you listen to my vocal exercises and see if my pitch is off?”

Sitting up in bed, you frowned “I wish I could but I just want to nap right now, I have a feeling my period is coming because I have the worst headache.”

Concerned, he immediately rushed to the bathroom and pulled out the medicine you were looking for, “Well definitely take one of these before you sleep okay darling?”

“Ugh, I was looking for that!” You told him. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Get some rest okay?” Youngjae left the bottle by your bedside table along with your glass of water from before.

⇒ bambam

“I literally look pregnant.” You told Bambam, lifting your shirt to show him your bloating.

“Y/N, you look fine.” Bambam said, not looking up from his phone.

“You’re not even looking!” You complained.

Glancing up from his phone, Bambam saw your bloated stomach. Although he agreed it definitely looked bigger, Bambam also liked his life. He knew if he mentioned anything about it, you would murder him.

“I don’t see any difference.” He fibbed.

“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m definitely getting my period soon.”

Turning back to the mirror you rand a hand over your bloated stomach. “Is this how I’m going to look pregant?”

Bambam stood up from his seat and walked towards you, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head in your neck.

“Baby, you look beautiful to me no matter what.” He said honestly. “I love you, and that includes the days where your bloated and cranky.”

“Who said anything about me being cranky?” You whipped around.

“Uh-I” Bambam shrugged to find the words that would save him from this situation, “it’s just–“

“Bam, stop talking.” You said, hugging him, “but thank you for telling me that, I needed it.”

⇒ yugyeom

As you ransacked the fridge for something sweet, Yugyeom could only watched from afar.

“What are you doing honey?” He asked.

“I want something sweet to eat,” Before he could answer, you added “that’s not fruit, or anything remotely healthy.”

Watching as you were unsuccessful in your pillage of the fridge, he leaned against the doorframe.

Standing up you sighed, “I guess I’ll just bake.”

Perking up a bit, Yugyeom watched as you took out the ingredients to make brownies.

“Do you want?” You asked. “I’m not in the mood to share, so you better tell me now.”

“No, I’m good.” Yugyeom said, “but I will watch you bake.”

Shrugging, you got to work mixing the ingredients together rand pouring the batter into a pan.

Sitting at your countertop, you joined Yugyeom as you waited for the brownies to cook.

He watched you lovingly as you licked the spoon with the batter.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, turning to him.

“No, I’m just watching you,” Yugyeom said.

“Creep.”

Laughing, Yugyeom kissed your temple.

After about a half hour, your brownies were ready and the smell was driving Yugyeom crazy. He should’ve asked you to share some with him. As you took out the hot brownie and put it on your plate, you brought it back to your seat next to Yugyeom.

Taking a bite, you moaned “It’s so good.”

Happily enjoying your brownie, Yugyeom couldn’t help but sneak a bite.

“Hey!” You yelled at him. “I’m about to get my period and this is the only thing that is making me feel good right now!”

With a mouthful of brownie, Yugyeom managed to say, “I’m sorry! It smelled so good.”

return to masterlist

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part XIV

2.9 k After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

---

Part 14

2.9k words

Mentions: family drama, crying, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, dead loved ones

---

Though it is your intention to deal with your family swiftly, your plans are pushed aside for a time.

In the wake of over twenty executions spanning across numerous planets and entire star systems, there’s much to be done. You spend days poring over work histories and background checks, working diligently to replace lost personnel. There are four positions that need filling on the Board of Charitable Affairs alone, though Hux is at your side to vet candidates. And then of course there’s spying to do, for several Valderan mineral companies are replacing key players in their operations. Canto Bight’s casino owners are kissing major ass, stolen funds need redistributing to various charities, several small insurrections must be crushed…

It’s like you blink and nearly a month’s gone by, days passing in a haze of paperwork, meetings, and formal appearances. You and Kylo are pulled here and there, always busy, always doing something, and the whole ordeal is more exhausting than you ever imagined it could be. Sleep becomes a luxury, and not for the first time do you find yourself marveling at the Chancellor’s ability to go without it. Still, the sacrifice is worth the reward, and you’re happy to see things straightening out amongst the Order’s possessions.

Finally, all is well, and you’re able to relax again. Handling your uncle and his children sits at the forefront of your mind, but you’re smart enough to know that you need rest before launching into yet another confrontation. Still, even after several days of decent sleep, you’re dragging your feet at midday, drowsiness clouding your mind and dulling your senses. More than once do you find the notion of taking a nap irresistible, and you sleep the sleep of the dead each time you lie down.

Miriam notices the change in your behavior immediately, though she says nothing as she helps you fix your hair and set your clothes straight each afternoon. Kylo is more vocal with his concerns, more insistent that you seek medical attention. He corners you one afternoon in your shared quarters, catching you just as you’ve awoken from another one of your naps.

“I fear someone or something has made you ill,” your husband presses, pushing back against your flippant view of the matter. You turn away from your vanity, amused as you take in your husband’s furrowed brow and tense posture.

“Kylo,” you say, voice dripping honey, “I’m just a little tired. I’m not dying.”

Your husband rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands as he becomes more desperate than you’ve ever seen him before. “My love, I am begging you—”

“And I,” you cut gently, turning to kiss the inside of his wrist, “am begging you to not worry about this.”

Kylo’s exasperation heightens, though you don’t let him go on.

“I’m fine, darling” you insist, fussing with the cuff of your husband’s sleeve. “I’ve never been better.”

---

Returning to the palace is almost surreal, everything just as you left it all those months ago. You hadn’t expected anything to change, not really, but the sameness of it all still makes your chest clench in the strangest way. Every rug, every tapestry, every artifact and decoration… each one reminds you of a time that was not long ago, though you can hardly recognize that version of yourself now.

Two Knights of Ren flank you on either side as you glide into the receiving room you know all too well, your only protection on your home planet. Kylo was insistent for a while there, demanded that you be attended by stormtroopers and Reds and a number of other personnel, but you managed to talk him out of it. Ap’lek and Vicrul are more valuable than fifty imperial guards put together, and besides, you are adored here— the chance of you being harmed is slim to none.

Your uncle’s throne still sits on its dais in the center of the room, this fixture too unchanged. You approach it cautiously, mildly afraid to be caught near the thing on principle. It was the cardinal rule of your childhood— do not sit on Uncle’s throne, not under any circumstances. How many tongue lashings had you received for climbing up here as a child? Ten? Twenty? You can’t be sure after all these years.

What you do know, however, is that your uncle’s throne is even more comfortable now than it was in your childhood.

As if on cue, the patriarch of your remaining family comes striding into the room, mid-conversation with one of his attendants. His entire body shudders when he lays eyes on you, no doubt surprised to see you, or anyone else, for that matter, in this room. Arriving unannounced was a key element in your plan, and, if your uncle’s wide-eyed, horrified gaze is anything to go by, it’s already having the desired effect.

You let your uncle splutter stupidly on the floor for a moment, let him go through aborted versions of your name, your old title, and your new one before he finally blurts, “What are you doing here?”

It’s by no means a respectful way to address his Empress, but you’re too pleased with the way he cringes at his own words to care.

Setting your expression carefully, you gesture about the room with one lofty hand. “I’m here for a visit, Uncle. I wanted to check on the state of things here.” Your voice drops, becomes less pleasant. “The state of our people.”

Your uncle looks as if he’s going to vomit. This pleases you.

Mila is the first to come before you, startled like her father was upon seeing your face. She has the decency to kneel though, to show you respect as she waits for her brothers to arrive. And they do after several minutes, the both of them looking ruffled and perturbed as they shuffle into the room.

“You do not kneel before you Empress?” Ap’lek snaps, incensed by the way Sebastian and Tensin make no move to join their father and sister on the floor.

Sebastian, the smart-mouthed little shit that he is, opens his mouth at once, no doubt about to spit something acidic and defiant in Ap’lek’s face. But your uncle stops his son before he can do something stupid, yanking the eldest boy down onto his knees.

“Shut up and kneel down,” the King hisses. “Both of you.”

Sebastian and Tensin need no further prompting after that, though they obviously aren’t happy about being forced to show fealty to you. Mila, however, looks almost afraid, refusing to meet your eyes even as she says, “To what do we owe this honor, Empress?”

You like this change in your cousin’s demeanor, like the way she addresses you with humility and respect. So, you answer her question calmly, though you can feel rage coming to a boil in your chest.

“I am here, Princess, to tell your father that I know what he’s been doing with his people’s money.”

At this, your uncle pales, shifting uncomfortably on his knees. He, too, now will not look you in the eye, an indirect but still very overt admission of his guilt. You can’t believe him, so shameless and yet so cowardly at the same time.

Your uncle drops his head, voice subdued as he speaks. “Empress, I think you’ve misunderstood—”

Something in your snaps then, for how dare he treat your like you’re stupid, like you haven’t been paying attention?

“Oh no, Uncle, it is you who has misunderstood,” you snap, rising from his throne. Venom drips from your every word, Ap’lek and Vicrul your dark, dangerous shadows as you stalk closer and closer to your family. “You misunderstand the purpose of your tax dollars; you misunderstand the needs of your people. They suffer under the financial burden you’ve placed upon them while you snort spice and fuck whores.”

“Do not speak to my father like that!” Sebastian shouts, jumping to his feet in front of you. His eyes are wild, but you are equally as enraged, getting in his face, daring him to so much as touch you.

“Harm me or my child and it will be the last thing you do, you insolent little fuck.”

All eyes land on you, the members of your family stunned into silence by the implications of what you’ve just said. Mila is the only one brave enough to speak, eyeing you from the floor with a look of utter shock slapped across her face. “You’re pregnant?”

Remembering yourself, you take a breath and set your hands on the almost imperceptible swell of your stomach. “Yes, I am pregnant,” you affirm, speaking softly as you think of all your days spent in bed and the way Kylo cried when you told him what you knew. It was the one reason he was so insistent that you come here armed to the teeth.

Your family looks upon you as if you’re a live explosive then, falling all over themselves to widen the distance between all of you. You crowd right back in, however, undeterred and unafraid. “All of you must understand, then, why I came to do this before my condition progresses any farther.”

Tensin decides to be bold. “And what would this be?”

Cutting your eyes away from him, you look squarely at the King. “I’ve come to take your father’s crown.”

The noise that comes out of Sebastian is indignant and angry. Mila gasps, eyes wide and terrified. Tensin turns white as a sheet. And your uncle? All he does is stare up at your stupidly, mouth opening and closing on what appears to be its own accord for several seconds.

“You can’t— You can’t do that,” he stammers, looking from you, to his throne, and back again. “You can’t— Who will rule in my place? You?”

“I have the galaxy, Uncle,” you state, voice even and calm. “I don’t need this planet.”

The King looks at his eldest son and then back at you, a silent question swimming behind his eyes. You refuse to answer it, simply holding out your hand and eyeing the crown that glitters before you.

“Take that ridiculous thing off your head.”

Your uncle hesitates for a moment, a look of utter heartbreak coming across his face as he finally reaches up and out, handing you his crown as instructed. You hold the thing in your hands for a moment, studying the craftsmanship, the fine jewels that glint so beautifully in the light…

And then you throw it at Mila’s feet.

The clang of metal against marble bounces off the walls of the room again and again, the sound almost painfully loud in your ears until Mila’s able to get her hands on her father’s crown— or, rather, her crown. You see tears in her eyes as she studies it, looking at the gold and gilding as if she can’t believe it’s real.

Your uncle is clearly bewildered, shaking his head as he asks, “Why?”

“Because she’s smarter and more capable than both of your sons put together.” You lean down, really get in his face so that he can feel your anger properly. “And to think that you were going to sell her to the highest bidder.”

These words suck all other protests from your uncle’s mouth, and you can see now that this is over.

“You and the Princes will leave this palace immediately,” you declare. “You are not allowed to return for a year.”

Tensin looks distressed. “This is our home!”

You eye him coolly. “Not anymore. I can’t have you poisoning Mila’s reign with your childish partying and idiotic ideas. Now leave me and your Queen alone, all of you.”

Your uncle and his sons stumble out of the room, dazed and humiliated. Mila finally rises to her feet once they’re gone still weakly clutching her crown in one hand. Tears stream down her face. She looks like she’s been punched in the gut.

“Don’t waste it,” you say simply, tossing your head towards the throne in the center of the room. “I can take it from you just as easily as I took it from him.”

“I won’t,” Mila whispers. You believe her.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

And then you’re walking out of the room, your guards trailing behind you without a word.

Mila calls out after a moment, calls you by your title and then by your real name.

You turn to her. “Yes?”

“I—” Your cousin is distraught, eyes darting as she pants for breath. “I’ve been do awful to you. I treated you like dirt, I— You could have let Father sell me to that old man, and I would have been miserable. Why would you give me this instead?”

You stare her down for a moment, considering what to say. “I’m not like you, Mila. I’m not cruel.”

Mila shudders like she’s been slapped, and you turn to leave the room.

---

Ap’lek and Vicrul fly you out into the countryside after the lot of you make your exit from the palace, cruising at a comfortable speed as you take in the rush of scenery bellow you. This part of your planet feels as though it belongs somewhere else entirely, underdeveloped and free from the crowding of urban sprawl.

Your mother’s house, like the palace you just came from, is exactly as you remember it. The landscaping, the front steps, the courtyards— there’s not a blade of grass out of place, and the joy you feel because of this makes you want to weep.

Stepping inside is like stepping back inside, for you haven’t been to this place since you were a girl. Servants and small droids bustle about, putting on the finishing touches for your arrival. You’d asked to have the place opened up a couple of weeks ago, wanted to spend some time here after you finished dethroning your uncle. But now that you know you’re pregnant, you have other plans for this home.

Shooing Ap’lek and Vicrul away, you go exploring, halfway surprised that you still remember your way around. But no, you haven’t forgotten the layout of this house you love so much, these halls and rooms you played in as a baby.

You peek in your old bedroom, delighted to see that no one’s changed the colors on the walls. The same furniture that looked so big in your eyes then only looks average now— small, even. Your little window even faces the same flowers, the same fields, the same sunshine. At once, you decide that your child will know all these things too, just as you did.

Crossing the threshold in your mother’s room feels almost like stepping into a tomb, though the sensation is not one of dread or gloom like you thought it would be. Her bed and furniture are, like everything else in this house, just as they were when she was alive, though the vanity looks strange without her things strewn across it. You can remember your mother sitting there before the mirror, a tube of lipstick in her hand, a bottle of perfume close by. All little children think that their mothers are beautiful, and you were no different back then. Now, though, you realize that your mother really was a gorgeous woman, buxom and bright and so, so pretty. She would have you help her sometimes before she left for a party, would let you pick out her earrings or ask you which scent you liked better that night. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you reach up and unclip your own jewelry, laying the pieces out carefully on the vanity as your first action as this house’s new mistress.

The covers on the bed aren’t the ones your mother slept under, but you still feel like you’re crawling in bed beside her as you lie down. A length of time passes in silence after that, how much you can’t be sure, but you’re brought back to reality when you hear heavy boots in the hallway. Kylo appears in the doorway not one second later, quiet as he pauses to study you for a moment. And then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and unlacing his boots, he’s lying down beside you. The two of your clasp hands, tangling your feet together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“How did it go?” Kylo asks, though you’re sure he already knows.

“Mila will be coronated this afternoon.”

Kylo nods, unfazed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you say softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Kylo turns to kiss your palm, gentle in the same way he’s been gentle since he found out about the baby.

“This is a very beautiful house,” Kylo declares, leaving the topic of your uncle and his children behind. “Why are we here?”

“This is where I grew up,” you explain, fingers in his hair now. “I was born in this room.”

Kylo almost-smiles. “What a lovely place for a child. I see why your mother chose it for you.”

It’s your turn to nod. “I know. I… I want to be pregnant here. I want to give birth here, like my mother did. The baby needs to feel the sun on his face, needs to breathe real air when he takes his first breath.”

Kylo pulls you closer, kisses the top of your head. “I’ve always thought space was too cold for an infant.”

And just like that, the matter’s settled.

Everything’s settled.

[cobradoesmcyt]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713702/chapters/67828802

Here it is! The good dadbur au fic! 

And as requested @thesmpisonfire here you go

(hi yes I’m adding this here so this who don’t want to read it on Ao3 can still read it so just keep reading and the same thing as the link will take you to will be there)

Fundy ran his hand over all the books that lay in the chest, all of which had once belonged to his father but that now was his. It was soon after his father, the former president of L’manberg Wilbur Soot Minecraft (though he rarely ever used the full name, much more preferring to simply just go by Wilbur Soot), had died but Fundy thought he might as well visit as soon as he could, even though watching his own dad die right in front of him would forever be imprinted into his mind.

He picked one up at random and when he turned it in his hand he saw it was his favorite childhood book, one his mom had written for him before she died, the cover a two part cluster of good and bad craftsmanship, his dad must have wanted in as well it would seem. Fundy gave a little chuckle as he opened the book, the old worn pages crinkling as he turned them. He held the book tight against himself, making sure as to not hurt it at all. He did want his future children to hear these stories after all, to know just how amazing of a writer his mom had really been. And she hadn’t just been that, she’d been an amazing story teller as well, her soft and soothing voice being something Fundy would never forget.

Contrary to the jokes shared around Sally was not actually a salmon, but instead a salmon hybrid, but since she hadn’t had a last name she had given herself a title instead. And she had been the perfect muse to Wilbur’s endless mind of music, the two often working together to make songs - him with the music and vocals and her with the words and sometimes singing as well. Fundy had always loved when the two sang together, the sound putting him to sleep in seconds. 

After she had died his dad made sure he was told of all the good his mom had done for him, and how he was so happy to have gotten the chance to love her before her death, because not only did he have some of the happiest times of his life he also got Fundy as well. And even though she was dead Fundy hadn’t felt like the world was going to end, because he knew she would always be with him - in his heart. His dad had told him that, promised him that she would always be with them, and his dad was never wrong about things like this.

Closing the book, Fundy placed it on a shelf to take back hom later, he then continued to search through his dad’s stuff. He found a lot of photos of a young Wilbur with his family, the same bright smile he always had around Fundy in these as well. Though Fundy smugly noted that his dad’s smile was bigger when it was towards him. He placed the photos in a little pile, he’d give them out to the rest of his family too. Though he kept one of them, a picture of his dad and Uncle Techno standing side by side with matching smirks - his dad’s a bit more wider than the other’s. It reminds him of back when Techno first started coming around, the little smile he would barely crack at him now meaning so much more to the fox hybrid after getting to know his Uncle better.

The last thing he pulled out was a photo album, the one that his parents had started oh so long ago. Fundy looked down at it with teary eyes, having long thought the book gone. So with a shaking hand he flipped to the first page, his mothers beaming face meeting him. The little text down at the bottom showed it to be a little under a year before he was born and his dad’s doddle revealed the picture to be taken after his mom had found out she was pregnant with him. Quickly he turned the next few pages, pictures of his mom and sometimes dad flying past, each page telling the story of his mom’s pregnancy. Finally he reached one that was different, it was of both his parents, a little bundle of green lovingly held between the two. They were clearly in a hospital, and Fundy remembers that blanket like he remembered his name. And the date only confirmed it more. 

October 10. His birthday. Looks like he’d been born now.

He didn’t have the motivation to go through the entire album right now, it was far too long for that, but he did look for his favorite picture. After a bit of quickly flashing through page after page he finally found it. The picture, to anyone who didn’t know the story behind it, would just assume it was a normal picture of a father holding his young son. But Fundy knew the truth, he knew the story. His mom had taken the photo, her happy laugh and proud smile just as much captured in the photo as everything else in it to him. He had just said his first words just before, but he hadn’t said mommy or daddy or anything of the like, no instead he’d said love - he believes it's because it was the word he heard the most growing up. His dad had loved telling him this, and Fundy had too.

With a watery sigh he closed the book and picked up all the other items, wanting to give out what he’d found whilst also avoiding the water works he knew would come if he continued to look through the album. Outside the room Dream, his lovely fiance, stood waiting. And together they left, the silence between the two a comfort to the fox hybrid.

“I’m going to go give my Uncle some old photos, to share with everyone else, you can go right ahead.” Dream staggered in his step, as if he wanted to interject, but with one look at his fiance's eyes he knew this was something he needed to do alone.

“Okay,” he mumbled softly, “I’ll go home and start dinner, hopefully it’ll be done by the time you're back. Take care okay?”

Fundy smiled wide at the masked man, “I will, Dream. See you at home.” And with a parting kiss the two split up, Dream to their shared home and Fundy to his Uncle Techno.

Finding Techno actually took faster than he’d thought since the older man was in the area of Pogtopia, and his red cape stood out in the green grass and forest. So he quickly jogged over, a small smile in his face as he held the photos close. The two met halfway, the elder having spotted the fox hybrid, and Fundy handed him the photos with a happy smile, “I found these when going through dad’s stuff, thought you might want these to share with the rest of the family.”   

The pinkett silently flipped through the pages, barely even acknowledging his nephew as his mind wandered with the pictures. But he quickly shook himself out of the state and smiled softly at Fundy, picking out one specific picture and showing it off to the fox, “I’d always wondered what happened to this picture. Heh, guess Wilbur really wasn’t lying when he said he’d take it to his grave, was he?” 

Fundy mutely nodded, a little too focused on the picture to pay attention. As was to be expected the picture was of his dad, but unlike in recent years all his foxy traits were out on full display. Tail and ears, which were perked and waging respectively, clearly showing off his happy mood. 

“Dad had told him, since he’d been so well behaved and hard working the past few months, that he’d finally be getting a guitar of his own. I snuck this photo in before he noticed what I had in my hands.” Techno explained, a fond glint in his eyes, “I thought he’d gotten rid of this years ago.” 

The piglin hybrid traced a claused finger over the frozen form of his brother's joy, a small smile tugging in his lips. He carefully tucked it and the rest of the pictures away and turned to ruffle Fundy’s hair, “Thank you for these, squirt, I’m sure dad and Tommy will love to see some of these.”

Fundy beamed up at his uncle, happy to have made the monoton man smile again. It was a little talent of his, to be able to make his uncle smile, one he hadn't grown out of. The two parted ways after that, though his uncle said his door would be open for Fundy to come talk to him if Techno ever allowed it (his way of saying he could come talk whenever). 

And as Fundy went to bed that night he couldn't help but feel tension that he hadn't even noticed before leaving him. Maybe thinking about the past wasn’t as painful as he’d believe it to be.

Perhaps it was a good time to go down memory lane from the start.

[odelschwanky]

headcannons or a scenario if u more comfortable with that of Stark taking care if his pregnant s/o❤️ I love ur posts btw

Okay hi. Thank you for being so patient with me. Thank you so so much for the compliment. I hope you like this one.

I was confused about writing this because I feel like it’s difficult to do things in Los Noches. Do they have toilets, CVS’s to buy pregnancy tests? What do they do for fun there? It’s so hard to tell. So modern AU but like not?

_______________________________________________________

You and Starrk weren’t planning on getting pregnant together. Maybe it was because you didn't think you could get pregnant, or maybe you weren’t just thinking about that. You just kind of did what two people do when they’re together... but you did it a lot. And always unprotected because, well, you and Starrk didn’t have anything to worry about in that department. (Except for a baby?)

When you start feeling weirdly sick, you write it off as a moody spell. You were crummy, irritable, snappy, and you were like that for maybe a few weeks.

***

“Do you have to yell?” He sleepily says as you stomp around the room in Los Noches the two of you share. You were cleaning up after him. 

“Yes! I have to yell! You’re so messy, Starrk! You-”

You cover your mouth in shock, the sudden wave of nausea too much to bear. You drop the clothes in your hands and barely make it to the toilet before whatever food you had in your stomach came out of your stomach. Starrk was up in a rush, unusual for him, in time to hold your hair back (if you have long hair) or simply hold your shoulders while you get it all up. You were all out of breath by the time you were done, and you look up at him, utterly bewildered and a little defeated. You had a feeling you knew what was happening, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He looked at you, dazed and confused, his blue eyes wide like saucers. 

“Are you... okay?” He asked.

You just nod slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helps you up and gives you a hug, which honestly, threw you for a loop. He rests his chin on your head as he pulls you close to him.

“Don’t get so mad next time,” he says. “I’ll pick up the clothes... just don’t work yourself up.”

That was his way of apologizing.

***

A few more days of this sickness went on, and added symptoms piled on. Your head ached all the time, you peed every hour, on the hour, and you didn’t want Starrk laying on your chest anymore because your breasts hurt too much. You definitely knew what was going on now. You didn’t know how he’d feel. The best way to clear this up with Starrk would be a conversation. You didn’t know If there was room in an Espada’s schedule for a baby.

“Um... Starrk?” You say softly, coming into the room. He was napping, like usual and you felt bad for waking him. 

“Hm?” He barely opened his eyes. He insisted that you call him by his first name, but you always called him Starrk when you were nervous.

His brown hair fell over his lashes when he shifted toward you. There was a serene expression on his normally serious face. 

“I think I might be pregnant... and I wanted to have a conversation with you.” Starrk rose up into a sitting position, not in a rush, and looks at you deeply. You couldn’t tell whether he was pleased or displeased. 

“Conversation? What for?” He asks, looking down at your stomach like a bump would magically appear. “I just wanted to see... if... you wanted to... I don’t know...”

“We’re keeping it.” He says with finality. His voice was soft, making you relax.

You smile. “W-we are?”

Starrk holds open one of his arms and you climb under it promptly. The two of you snuggle underneath a blanket and he pets you gently.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t we? Surely you don’t think I’m so cruel?”

You shake your head and laugh, breathing in his musky scent. You knew Starrk wasn’t a very complicated man. Apathetic, sure, but he loved you and that was always apparent. You didn’t have a single doubt about that.

“No, I don’t think that. You’re not as scary as everybody thinks. You’d make a good dad.”

You sense him smile up there, softly and to himself. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now,” he says.

You close your eyes against his firm chest. “Okay, okay. I’m just excited.” You couldn’t help but grin.

Starrk clears his throat and you could tell he was trying to get back to sleep. After a while, he speaks softly against your temple. 

“Me too.”

*****

So Starrk takes very very good care of you while you’re pregnant. 

He starts cleaning up after himself and helping out with chores. You never have to do dishes more than once a day, you never have to pick up any of his things, you never have to make the bed. 

He tries his best to be home for you, taking leave from his duties as an Espada. Aizen doesn’t like it too much, but Starrk honestly doesn’t care at all. He was the Primera Espada. Aizen couldn’t do a thing to come between Starrk and his family. Seriously. Your Coyote might not be vocal about how much he cares about you, but he really is a man of action.

He rubs your feet OFTEN. Even if you don’t ask him to. It’s one of his favorite things to do for you. He puts those lean muscles to good use and gets to work on your feet when he finds you sitting anywhere at all. He surprises you and places a few kisses on them from time to time, between massaging the stress and tension out of you. 

Bath time has become a thing that the two of you do together. Starrk washes your hair for you every night, as well as your back. He’s gentler with you these days, more delicate and soft. He’s not as heavy-handed as he used to be when you weren’t pregnant. There was a lot of roughness in his actions, in the way you two interacted and made love, but now Starrk realized that you weren’t as durable as you were. You were a lot more sensitive, a lot more touchy. So he adapted, and he did it well. 

His voice even seemed to get more gentle.

Anytime you’re in bed, he’s right there beside you after getting you a glass of water for the nightstand. He cuddles you close and gently draws circles on your growing belly.  He doesn’t spare any expense when it comes to taking care of you. Whatever you want, he makes sure you have it. Whether it’s the food you crave or decent sleep clothes that you’d be more comfortable in. Whether it be kisses, neck bites, or back rubs, he makes sure you have it.

Starrk actually is really caring and kind, and your pregnancy brings the two of you closer together. There are just more opportunities for him to show you how much he cares about you and how much he wants to make sure you’re comfortable. 

“Are you still awake?” You ask him. It was the middle of the night in Hueco Mundo, the only light in the room a single stream of moonlight. Starrk’s hands gently enclose around you, just a little tighter than before. 

“Mmm..” He groans. His front was pressed flush against you and you savored his lenient and forgiving touch. His fingers were curled in the fabric of your clothes, making sure you were warm.

“Thank you.”

He sighs. “You don’t need to thank me, you know. It’s my job.”

You shake your eyes, struggling to roll over onto your other side. You faced him, your swollen stomach now between the two of you. He readjusted his hold on you, making sure he wasn’t gripping too tight. (That was his most common problem. He used to treat you like you were indestructible. Now he treats you like stained glass).

“Your job or not... you’re still doing it. And you’re doing an excellent job.”

Your lover doesn’t talk for a while... but when he does, his voice is low and tender. He speaks close to your ear so you could listen without him having to talk too loud. He murmurs to you before you trail off to sleep.

“Anything for you. I love you.”

[ruzek-halstead]

someday

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

erin is back in town and asks jay out for drinks. hailey isn't sure how to feel about it and finds herself at molly's, throwing back shots with will halstead (he totally ships upstead).

“plus, why would he get back together with erin when he’s clearly in love with you?”

masterlist || ao3

warnings: swearing, fluffery, mentions of erin lindsay

the team is all at their desks, catching up on paperwork when jay’s phone starts ringing.

he glances at it quickly, almost as if he plans on letting it go to voicemail, but then doubles back as his eyes widen. he hesitates to grab it, but ultimately decides he probably should. so, he grabs his phone and quietly ducks out to the break room.

hailey is watching, because of course she is. she happens to look up as his phone starts ringing, just in case it was hers, and catches his reaction. he isn’t very subtle about it, but he probably isn’t thinking people are watching him either. he spends a few minutes in the break room and hailey would be lying if she said she isn’t glancing at the door every few seconds.

her curiosity is starting to get the best of her, so she grabs her near empty coffee mug and subtly enters the break room.

when she enters, jay is sitting at the table. his phone is on the table and his chin is in his hands; his eyes are blank and he’s staring off into space.

“hey, you alright?” she questions as she fills her mug up with fresh coffee. she tries to act nonchalant, like she isn’t dying to know.

jay doesn’t reply.

hailey raises an eyebrow and sits down across from him at the table; his eyes don’t flit to her.

“jay?”

his light eyes finally lift to glance at her and he looks confused, and slightly desperate. “that was erin on the phone.”

there are things hailey expects to hear on the daily; even extremely off things, given what they do for a living. however, this is definitely not one of those things.

she chokes on a sip of her coffee and curses when it dribbles down her chin. “i’m sorry, what?”

jay allows himself to chuckle, watching as she licks her lips free of coffee. she’s glad she can still provide him some amusement. “erin. she’s in town and wants to see me.”

“oh,” it’s the only thing hailey can say because she doesn’t want to overstep; jay raises an eyebrow. “sorry, i'm just surprised is all.”

jay runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “you're telling me,” he mumbles in response. “what should i do?”

hailey's eyes widen; she isn’t expecting him to ask her that. “well, you have to go, right?” she replies, “i mean, she clearly wants to see you.”

jay's facial expression stays blank. “right…”

the passivity on jay's face starts to make hailey nervous; she can’t read his expression and has no idea what he’s thinking. so, she starts to babble.

“maybe she has something important to tell you, like maybe she’s pregnant,” jay's eyes snap to look at her and hailey blanches. “not with you, obviously.” jay is still staring at her and she cringes; she’s absolutely butchering this conversation. “or maybe she wants to get back together.”

somehow, hailey’s brain has not connected to her vocal cords and she still continues to speak.

hailey frowns; by saying that, it’s put unwelcome thoughts in her own mind, and she doesn’t like it. she doesn’t want to picture jay and erin back together; why the hell would she even mention it?

jay is clearly confused as well; he’s finally showing some emotion, as he can’t fathom why hailey would say such awkward things. but she looks uncomfortable and she refuses to make eye contact and she’s inching out of her seat, as if preparing to make a run for it. so, he doesn’t press.

“i guess i’ll just have to meet her to find out.”

hailey hates that answer. she hates it because now she’s planted the seed of a relationship in his brain and she knows as soon as he sees his former flame, he’ll go all heart eyes and that will be that. she hates it.

“hey hails,” her attention lands on her new roommate, who’s peeking her head in the doorway with a gentle smile, “i have to meet with a CI; voight says to bring some backup. you want in?”

hailey stands so fast; she nearly topples over her chair. “oh god, yes,” the reply flies out of her mouth nearly as quickly and vanessa knits her eyebrows together. “i mean, yeah, of course i’ll go with you.”

hailey spares a glance over at Jay and is slightly pleased to see him smirking; maybe he isn’t as far gone as she thinks.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

that night, hailey finds herself at molly’s.

she has no idea where erin and jay plan on meeting up, but she prays that it isn’t molly's because she is in desperate need of shots.

the rest of her team isn’t here either. kim and adam went to dinner (honestly, can those two just get together already?) and surprisingly, vanessa is out with kevin, but she has no idea where. so, hailey sits at the bar by her lonesome, but it’s fine.

she downs another shot of tequila.

she’s fine.

her pity-party is interrupted when a stool is dragged next to her. she looks up to see the other halstead, nursing a beer and a smile. “hey herrmann, can we get another round please?” he asks the older fireman.

“you got it,” he replies and then glances at hailey, “i'll throw in another round of shots on the house. looks like this one needs it,” he drops his right eyelid in a wink.

hailey opens her mouth to object because this is absolutely mortifying but nothing comes out. “make it a double, please,” she says instead.

“oh no, what did he do now?” will asks in jest, gladly accepting the drinks herrmann is laying out for them.

hailey smirks. “who?” she asks innocently.

“you may be a detective, but i can also see through your bullshit,” will sasses with a raised eyebrow. “now tell me, what stupid thing did my brother do today?”

hailey laughs; she doesn’t usually spend much time with will, at least not without jay around. but it’s nice; his company is nice. “he didn’t do anything,” she replies, and she isn’t lying. but somehow it feels like she is.

“so, what’s the reason for all this?” he motions to the shots, which only spurs her to take another.

her face scrunches at the burn of the amber liquid and she turns to look at him. his face is blank, save for a little curiosity. but he’s there and he’s ready to listen and it just comes pouring out.

“erin is in town.”

will's jaw instantly drops, but he recovers quickly. he takes a hold of his own shot glass and holds it out to her, waiting. she brings their glasses together in cheers and throws it back.

“how did jay react to that?”

hailey nearly laughs. “like a robot. honestly, do you bottle up your emotions as much as he does?”

“i'm proud to say that no, i do not,” he chuckles. “i'm much more emotional than jay—don’t tell him that, though.”

hailey laughs and she’s so glad for the distraction. “he didn’t really say anything, and i couldn’t read him. so, i got nervous and maybe said some things i shouldn’t have.”

will raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “what kind of things?”

“like maybe she’s pregnant,” his eyes widen and he bursts out in laughter, “and then i just had to mention that maybe she wants to get back together,” she rolls her eyes, “honestly, he’s going to fold like a pancake as soon as he sees her.”

will is still laughing. “i'm not sure where the pancake reference is coming from, but i can assure you jay doesn’t want anything more than closure and a beer.”

“how do you know that?” hailey asks, pouting. then she straightens up and drops her facial expression because she’s a goddamn adult for fuck sakes.

“you know jay, but i know him better,” will explains, “he was devastated when she left. but that’s just it; she left. and she had no intention of coming back. he’s dumb and reckless sometimes, but he wouldn’t put himself through that again.”

“oh,” hailey exhales softly, suddenly feeling ridiculous for her overreaction. “i guess that makes sense.”

will smirks. “he's not the best with change. he had to adapt to her leaving and he can’t live in fear knowing that she might have to leave again; she didn’t even say goodbye.”

hailey remembers the first months of their partnership. he was stubborn and dark, and it took her a while to get through to him; it seems stupid but the first morning he brought her a coffee without having to ask her order beforehand, that’s when she knew things were going to change. and they did; look at them now.

“plus, why would he get back together with erin when he’s clearly in love with you?”

hailey's head whips around to stare at will with wide, worried eyes. but his gaze is locked on molly’s front doors where jay has just entered; he’s looking around, wondering if anyone from his unit is here (since no one replied to his texts in the group chat), but then he spots his brother’s wild red hair and his blonde partner beside him.

“i guess this is my cue to leave,” will says quickly as he rushes to finish the last of his beer.

hailey latches onto his arm, panicking. “what?” she hisses. “no, you can’t leave! not after saying something like that!”

“oh, do you hear that?” will says, standing and grabbing his coat. “i’m being paged. sorry hailey, but i have to go save lives,” he replies, smirking because clearly he is not being paged and hailey is livid.

hailey narrows her eyes. “okay halstead, play the doctor card; i see how it is,” she responds, but sharply adds, “i’ll remember this.”

“you’re a sassy woman, hailey,” will smiles, “i see why my brother likes you so much.”

this time he makes sure jay hears it as well and thoroughly enjoys watching hailey drown her embarrassment in her beer, while jay looks on, confused as hell.

“hey jay! sorry, i gotta run. busy doing doctor stuff, you know?”

will doesn’t wait for a response and he’s out the door before jay can even blink.

“he's such a loser,” jay snorts and vacates will's old spot. he orders a beer for himself and another one for hailey and herrmann obliges, holding back his smirk. “am i missing something here?”

hailey shakes her head quickly. “no, of course not,” she replies, “how’s erin?”

“she's good,” he replies casually. hailey continues to look at him and when he notices, she motions for him to go on. “oh, i don’t know. she's fine, i guess. came down for a case and wanted to check in. didn't call the rest of the unit because she’s leaving tomorrow and didn’t want to make a big deal.”

his answers are so vague and she’s getting frustrated.

“jay, she’s your ex-girlfriend. that's all?” hailey prods; she can’t help herself.

his green eyes zero in on her expression, wondering where this persistence is coming from. to some degree, he knows because he caught her nervousness earlier in the break room and clearly, there’s a reason for it. “yeah, that’s all. we had one drink, i gave her the rundown on all the changes within Intelligence and she told me a bit about her new job.”

“that's it?” hailey asks with hopeful eyes.

jay mirrors her expression but with confused eyes. “that's it.”

hailey visibly deflates and she takes another swig of her beer with elated ease. her actions cause a smirk to appear on jay's face, as he leans his body forward. “hailey,” she hums in response, “is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

the ease that hailey was feeling for two seconds is suddenly gone and replaced with stone cold anxiety.

“because earlier today, you were chatting my ear off about erin-related topics and you were clearly nervous. now that i’m telling you absolutely nothing happened, you’re looking very relieved. what am i missing?”

jay's eyes bore into hers and he can clearly see she’s nervous once again, but she tries to keep her expressions in check. “i'm just glad you’re okay. i didn’t want you to get hurt again.”

jay is 99% sure she’s lying, but it’s a damn good lie.

“and that’s all?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

hailey snaps out of her trance and punches his shoulder; that certainly snaps him out as well as he groans. “i care about you, jay! i’m just looking out.”

he narrows his eyes at her, because she’s good, but she can’t lie to him.

“i know there’s more,” he says simply, standing and grabbing a few bills from his wallet. “and we’ll have that conversation someday.”

he grabs his jacket.

“jay,” hailey breathes and for a moment, she thinks she can do this; it’s time.

but she doesn’t say anything.

he sends her a soft smile. “goodnight, hailey.”

he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. she inhales sharply.

she watches him walk out the door and can’t find it in herself to chase after him.

she lets him go.

[electronicgrowth]

My Best

Hi! So, I’ve never written fanfiction before, but this came to me and I started writing it and it got away from me. Plus, there is a major lack of Ransom Drysdale on Tumblr, and I’m a thirsty bitch. Please be kind with my very first fanfic. It probably sucks, but here it is! 

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“24.”

“And you and Ransom Drysdale are involved?”

“Yes.”

“How long have the two of you been involved for?”

“About two years.”

“Miss Y/L/N, can you confirm that Mr. Drysdale was with you on the night in question?” 

“Yes.”

“And the video in question was recorded that night?”

“Yes.”

“And you are currently pregnant with Mr. Drysdale’s baby?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This wasn’t what I had ever wanted. I was scholarship kid at Boston College. I got the opportunity of a lifetime when Harlan Thrombey offered me a part time gig as a research assistant. Harlan even let me look over his manuscripts and give him notes. He told me he trusted my instincts. Although, I never knew why that was. 

That’s how I’d met Ransom. I was a good 10 years younger than him, but I caught his eye. It started out simply, flirting whenever he came to the house. Then Nana got sick. 

I went out drinking trying to forgot that the light of my life was sick. And there he was, that motherfucker. 

He bought me drink after drink and listened to me talk of Nana. We fucked the first time that night. 

From then on we fucked constantly. I spent most nights at his place. It felt good to have someone give a shit. Someone who wanted to pay attention to me. 

This went on. I graduated from school. And Harlan maneuvered me to get a job at the publishing company. Much to Walt’s chagrin. 

Ransom and I still went at it. I wondered if he was sleeping with other girls. I couldn’t imagine he wasn’t. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. I loved him, but I knew my time with Ransom was limited. I resolved myself to take what I could get. 

Then Nana died. After 18 months fighting her cancer she died. I had to go to Minnesota. Ransom begged me to come back by Harlan’s party. Saying he couldn’t face it alone. Unfortunately everything at Nana’s took longer than anticipated. I got back after the party had ended. I even had to go back the next week to tie up some loose knots. 

I called Ransom to get me from the airport. 

He looked great. He rolled up in his Beamer. He looked so hot. He smirked at me. When I finally reached him, he covered my mouth with his in a heated kiss. His right hand snaked down to grab my ass through the leggings.

“Missed you, baby,” he growled, “Need to get you home so I can fuck you.” 

“Take me home then,” I gasped. The ride home to his place was tense. I could see how much he wanted me if his pants were to give me any indication. I kept fidgeting trying to get comfortable. 

When we finally pulled up to his place I could barely take it. We barreled into the house.  Into his room. 

“Baby,” he moaned, “Wanna try something new?” His eyes sparkled mischievously. 

“What do you have in mind?” I asked skeptically. 

“I know you have to go back to Minnesota in a few days,” he began, “and I missed you so much this last time. Maybe we could film it.”

“Ransom,” I started.

“It would just be for me, baby,” he begged. 

“I really don’t know,” I said. 

“Come on,” he said, “you know you’re my girl.” I finally looked up at him, eyebrows raised. 

“Y/N,” he said sternly, “I love you.” Three little words and my world was turned upside down. I would like to say that usually I would be more skeptical, that I fell for those words because my Nana had just died, that I desperately needed to be loved in that moment. But I was a fool for Ransom Drysdale. I would have believed him no matter what. 

I looked into his eyes, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he breathed, he kissed me deeply. He started grabbing my ass again. I reached down and started massaging him. He broke our kiss to start undressing me. It was a frenzy. He took off my sweatshirt and t-shirt. He pushed me back onto his bed and grabbed my leggings and pulled them off. When I was left in just my bra and underwear I leaned up. 

“Get your phone out baby,” I said, reaching for his belt. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed his phone from his back pocket. I unzipped his pants and pushed those and his underwear down just enough that his cock sprang free. I wasted no time. First I teased him. I licked his length then took as much as I could in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around him while he was still in my mouth, wetting as much of him as possible. I hallowed my cheeks and starting bobbing my head. I could feel the camera on me. I looked up through my lashes at the phone. 

“Shit, baby. You look so sexy,” he moaned out. He pushed me back, off his cock. He set the phone down next to me, and removed his pants and briefs the rest of the way and kicked them away. He got down on his knees. 

“Here baby,” he said, “You film me know.”

I angled the phone towards him. He started with kisses on my lower stomach and then my thighs. Finally he kissed my mound. 

“God, you are so wet for me,” he smirked, “I can feel it through your panties.” Very carefully he rolled my panties down and off my body. He licked my opening and began fucking me with his tongue. It was so erotic to watch him do it through the phone camera. When he raised his mouth I thought he was going to give me a reprieve, instead he sank two fingers into me.

“Jesus,” he groaned, “I swear you get tighter every time.” All I could do is moan as he pumped his fingers in and out of me. I could hear how turned on I was. It sounded like a porno in his room. He started to slow down.

“Tell me what I want to hear baby,” he said, smirking down at me.

“R-ransom, oh fuck,” I started.

“What was that, babygirl?” He asked mockingly. 

“Ransom, please fuck me with your cock,” I begged, “I need it so bad.”

“Yeah?” 

“God, I need it so bad, it hurts,” I moaned. He grabbed the the phone from my hands and sprang up. He grabbed one of the bedside tables and dragged it forward. He propped his phone up against some books he had laying on the table. He reached into the drawer and grabbed a condom. I recovered enough to remove my bra. He looked at me hungrily as he got on top of me. He propped himself up on his forearms. I hooked my legs around him, like he liked. He pushed himself inside me and began pounding. 

Ransom was always vocal in bed. He had to say exactly what was on his mind. 

“God, missed you so much. I can’t let you leave me again. You’re my girl right?”

I nodded in response. I couldn’t speak, just moan and gasp.

“I gotta make you my girl. Gotta keep you here. Don’t leave me, babe.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” I gasped. He stalled a bit. Slowed his pounding to a careful roll of the hips. 

“Promise?” He asked, his eyes were begging. I wondered if something was upsetting him. 

“I promise, Ransom,” I whispered. I reached up to cup his cheek, his hand grabbed mine and he kissed my palm. 

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too,” I responded. He pulled out of me. 

“Turn over,” he commanded. I did. I got on my knees and leaned down so my head was resting on my hands. Ransom gruffly grabbed one hip, I could hear him behind me, he was pumping himself based on the sounds the latex was making. When he re-entered me he grabbed both my hips to pull me back against him. I was a moaning mess. 

“Oh fuck, Ransom. You feel so good,” I moaned. 

“God, this pussy is so tight,” he growled, “and it’s all mine right baby?”

“All yours!” 

“Say it again.”

“This is your pussy, Ransom.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He growled. I moaned. He pulled me up so my back was against his front, one hand around my neck, the other wrapped around my waist. I could feel how close I was. My legs were shaking. He kissed my neck, in the place he knew made me weak. I reached one hand up to keep his head in place and the other guided his hand down to my clit. 

“Tell me you love me, one more time baby,” he begged.

“I love you, Ransom,” I moaned. With that, he came. Feeling his pulse inside me pushed me over the edge. We both took a minute to catch our breathe. He leaned over to the table and turned the phone camera off, he was still inside me. Very carefully he pulled out. He got up to throw the condom out. I got onto my back. It felt different, like something was coming out of me. I leaned up and looked down. 

Shit.

Was that cum? 

“Ransom?” I asked.

“Yeah, baby,” he called from the bathroom. 

“Did that condom break?”

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m on the pill. So, I’m sure it’s fine.” He appeared from the bathroom. 

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, totally,” I said. He crawled back onto the bed and kissed me deeply. When he was done, he plopped down and pulled me into him. He grabbed one of my legs and hooked it around his hip. I laid my head over his racing heart. I fell asleep like that. 

The next day Linda called Ransom about Harlan. Everything moved quickly. There was a funeral. 

Ransom and I still weren’t public so we planned on going separately. He wasn’t there. I was confused. But he and Harlan always had this special relationship that I couldn’t understand. Maybe he just needed time? 

I still went to his house each night. And fucked him. Until I had to go back to Nana’s house in Minnesota. 

While I was gone it fell apart. Everything happened. Ransom got arrested for murdering his grandfather, the housekeeper, and trying to kill Marta. 

Linda was frantic. The lawyers his parents hired badgered him about a potential alibi. Getting the recording deleted would help, but with an alibi he would be home free. 

I found it odd, them talking about the recording getting erased. But then it did. The police chopped it up to technical failure. But Linda had someone on the inside that did it all manually. 

On top of that, Ransom did have an alibi. One he could prove. He had a video of him fucking a girl that was timestamped for that night. Granted it was later than when Harlan died. But picking said girl up from the airport was so close to time of death, how could it have been him?

The lawyers didn’t like the angle of Ransom and I just messing around. Not that we were anymore. I was living there, but we weren’t sleeping together. We barely spoke. I was starting to feel like I was there to cook and clean. He couldn’t look me in the eye. 

“I mean, she is my girl,” Ransom had told them, not looking at me. 

“Yes, a girlfriend. Not very substantial for the image I’m afraid,” one lawyer had responded. 

“What if she was his fiancee?” The other bartered. 

“Yes, that is quite good,” said the first. 

I looked at Ransom. Was he actually going to go along with this? As it turns out he didn’t have to. Because I was pregnant. Now, I was his girlfriend he was having a baby with. One he had talked about marriage with.

At least that was how it was presented in court. At home he was distant. I didn’t know what to think. I had known Harlan. Had worked for Harlan. Was I even ready to be a mom? My own mother hadn’t even raised me. What did I know about being a mom?

Ransom’s lawyers played the video in court. At least part of it, to prove that we had been having sex that night. So, he couldn’t have had anything to do with his Grandfather’s death. 

Eventually, I was put on the stand. 

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“24.”

“And you and Ransom Drysdale are involved?”

“Yes.”

“How long have the two of you been involved for?”

“About two years.”

“Miss Y/L/N, can you confirm that Mr. Drysdale was with you on the night in question?” 

“Yes.”

“And the video in question was recorded that night?”

“Yes.”

“And you are currently pregnant with Mr. Drysdale’s baby?”

“Yes.”

With the deleted recording and alibi I provided, Ransom could only be charged with aggravated assault. He received one year of house arrest, with 2 years probation. 

His parents were content with that. The lawyers were downright thrilled. I still didn’t know what to think.

We got home after the trial, and he couldn’t look at me. We walked into the kitchen and he went right for the beer. I set my bag and coat down on the island. 

“So,” I began, “How long is it going to take you to dump me after all this?”

“Excuse me,” he countered, glaring at me. 

“Come on, Ransom. I know the whole family thing isn’t what you want,” I said, “You can barely look at me. And you haven’t touched me since before you got arrested. When you told me you loved me did you even mean it?” I was starting to raise my voice. 

“That night, did you ask me to make that video because you wanted to? Or because you wanted an extra alibi? Did the condom even break that night? Or did you take it off to try and knock me up for this whole family guy image your lawyers used.” I was fully in his face now. But he was finally looking at me. 

“Don’t you dare say that, Y/N!” He screamed with a look in his eye I had never seen. 

“You want the truth Y/N?” He growled, “I did everything I was accused of.” Now I was terrified. Was he going to kill me? I started to back away from him. But I bumped up against a wall. He caged me in with his arms. 

“And yeah, I made the video just in case I needed an alibi. I even took the condom off when I started to fuck you doggy. But I only did that because that night I finally had clarity. I knew that I loved you. That you were the only girl I was ever going to love and I had to do whatever it took to keep you. So, yeah. I took the condom off hoping to knock you up. But don’t for one minute think that I don’t love you,” he yelled. 

“You haven’t been to one doctor’s appointment with me since we found out four months ago,” I argued. 

“I’ve been a little busy here, Y/N!” He screamed. He wiped his hand down his face. 

“Do you not love me anymore?” He asked in a small voice, looking down at our feet. 

I faltered. I shouldn’t love him. He killed someone. He used me. But my heart bled for him. 

“I’m an idiot. But yeah, I still love you,” I said. He looked into my eyes and then he kissed me. He kissed me deeply. When he finally stepped back, he scooped me up and carried me to bed. 

He laid me down gently and got on his knees. 

“Can I see?” He asked.

“See what honey?” I asked cupping his cheek. 

“The bump?” He said quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” I said. I stood up and walked passed him. I took off my heals and tights. Then I pulled the dress I was wearing over my head. I was left in my bra and underwear, I brushed by Ransom a second time to sit on the bed again. My four month bump was out there. He cradled it in awe. 

“I do love you,” he said, “I know I have a lot of shit to make up for. But I’m going to do my best.” 

“You better,” I said as he kissed my belly. 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 2: Like Sugar, With Salt

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

__________________________

Harlowe is still laying in bed. The alarm went off hours ago. She managed to get up, change her clothes. Calum made her eat with him and the kids. But the second she could escape, shower, and change again, she crawled right back into bed. The TV plays. Normally she would be watching it, but it’s more like the TV is watching her. The afternoon has settled in nicely, a bright clear day. She knows she ought to get up. There’s laundry to do. There’s lunch to fix. The very least is laundry. The absolute minimum. Calum can’t do it all himself. Laundry, she can do laundry. Throwing her feet to the floor, she pushes up. Just do laundry. Just do laundry. 

She walks into Te Koha’s room first. His toy trains lining the molding of his floor. He likes to think this is cleaning, since it’s not in the middle of the floor. He’s stubborn that way. Her and Calum have both collectively just let this happen. It doesn’t interfere too much and she’s glad at the very least that it’s not cluttered in the middle. There’s a path--and it works. Pulling his tiny hamper, she drags it behind her in, leaving it near the door before checking Esha’s room. Even though she’s still barely a toddler, she has her own hamper. Harlowe thought it would be frivolous but Esha wants everything Te Koha has, his tiny shadow. 

Grasping both hampers, she carries them down stairs. There’s no one inside. There’s not a giggle or chuckle or the twinkle of Pepper’s tag. It’s unusual for sure. But it’s not crazy. Just noteworthy, the silence settles thickly. Just the barely audible hum of fridge. She walks over to the kitchen window and sees Calum bouncing Esha as Te Koha runs around with his airplanes, Pepper runs behind him. Koha spies her from the window and smiles. His chubby cheeks lift as he waves. “Momma!” he shouts.  

She leans over the counter, pushing open the open the window. “Hi baby!”

“Will you come outside today?”

The question hurts. Things have gotten so bad again. Harlowe knows that. She just never thought her children would notice. Just go out for him. Go out for him, Harlowe chants to herself. She nods.. “I gotta put some clothes in the washer, but yeah, I’ll come out.”

The smile on his face radiates. He cheers. “Need help? I can help?”

“No, baby. Mommy’s got it. Keep an eye on Papa Bear for me. Make sure he doesn’t step on my rose bushes,” she adds. 

“I can hear you, you know,” Calum gripes. Koha laughs, but resumes his running with the toy plane. Calum steps closer to the open window. “If you don’t feel like coming out, don’t push yourself. Take it one step at a time.”

She exhales. It’s good for her. Just for a little bit. “I should go out.”

Esha whines in Calum’s arm, reaching for something below. He sets her down. “Okay, baby girl, I know. Down, I know.” She trots toward Koha. Calum turns back to Harlowe. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? Please?”

“I will.” He eyes her, head tilting forward. “I promise.” He knows she’ll suffer in silence. They both will. To a fault. Even if it’s bad, but that’s just who they are. A cry starts up; Esha. Doesn’t sound particularly bad, it’s more like a startled cry. 

Calum jogs over. “What happened, baby girl? You’re okay.”

“She just tripped,” Koha says. 

She leaves the window open. The small chirps and sounds of life help, make her feel less isolated. She sorts their clothes by colors and tosses them into the machine. The kids have a special detergent and she grabs it, always a little shocked by how heavy it is. The washing machine begins to rumble. She rests her hands onto it, feeling the vibrations shake up her hands and arms. She is still alive. Right? 

The back door is unlocked from when Calum took the kids and dogs out. She wonders if Calum knew that she needed a moment’s silence. Or maybe he was worried. If the kids watched her fall apart for too long, would they become hyper concerned? Would they want to do nothing because she was doing nothing? What was she teaching her kids? Her forehead falls into the glass of the door. She can’t teach them that. She can just water the flowers, right? 

There’s still lunch to fix. The kids will be getting hungry soon. She can get to that right? Calum’s here. They’ll get that that. She twists the doorknob, stepping onto the warm wood of the deck.  Koha rushes up the porch steps, wrapping his arms around her legs. Brushing her palm over his back, she sucks back tears. Koha’s only ever wanted good for her. He deserves his old mother back. Not her now, covered under a thick blanket of tired, of doubt, of shame. “We didn’t water the flowers yet, Momma. Do you want to do that? Can I help?”

He starts to pull back from her. Harlowe’s quick to wipe her tears from her face. “Yeah, let’s go water the flowers.” The walk to the garage door. It cranks after she types in the code before they walk inside, Te Koha takes hold of her hand. Harlowe gives it a squeeze, smiling, however briefly down at her son. A spitting image of her. With Calum’s soul. 

Things were better when he was first born. Harlowe had gotten pregnant with Te Koha well before she and Calum had ever considered getting married. But it didn’t matter. Besides, Harlowe will never forget the day Calum did propose, down on one knee in the middle of her empty apartment. He was sweaty for sure, having helped move her out so she could stay with him. She was swollen, stomach, ankles, feet. Everyone that looked at her was afraid she’d pop at any second. But it was Calum who popped instead, on his knee, to take her hand. 

He was going to do right by her. After nearly fucking things up. He couldn’t loose Harlowe a second time. Her pregnancy with Te Koha was fine. There were aches and pain for sure. But she felt fine. She was fine. Te Koha was a fairly easy baby. And now there is just a fog. Esha wasn’t a worrisome baby. She was stubborn and a opinonated, even at two. But she wasn’t difficult. It was just Harlowe’s brain. Her brain was making things hard. 

“Momma?” Te Koha asks, taking his water can from her hands. He can see the frown pulling down his mother’s face. 

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” he whispers. “I promise to be good.”

She gasps, a short explosion of air before her chest squeezes. She kneels in front of her little boy. His brown eyes are teary up like mine. Cupping his face between her palm, she brings his attention to her. “What’s happening to me is not your fault. It’s not Papa Bear’s fault; it’s not even Esha’s fault.”

“Then what happened?” He sniffs, wiping underneath his nose. “You were so different before.”

“Momma’s had some serious health issues. It’s…. been hard on me. But it’s not your fault. Please, please, please don’t think it. I wish I wasn’t like this. Mommy wishes she could be her old self. I am so sorry.”

“Is there is anything I can do to help?”

“Just keep being you baby boy. Just keep being you.”  She wipes the tears that have fallen from his skin. “Do you still want to help me water the flowers?”

He nods. “Yes. I always do.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Let me grab my can.” They walk to the hose, Harlowe filling Koha’s up first. Then filling hers. He trails behind, waiting for the every other plant that Harlowl leaves to him.  He sticks his tongue out a little, watching as the water slips over and splashes onto the ground. Harlowe pauses occasionally to pluck the dead leaves and weeds around certain plants. Te Koha follows suit, under the careful eye of his mother. This is the mom he remembers. A soft smile on her lips when he pulls hard at a weed and successfully uproots it. A small cheer of pride echoes from his chest. 

“Need any help?” a voice says behind me.

Harlowe looks over her shoulder. Koha shoots up from his seated position. “Uncle Mikey!” 

Michael laughs, collecting Koha into his arms before picking him up. “Oh, you’re getting big. No wonder Cal’s got arms like fu--freaking Superman. Lifting kids all day is a great work out.”

“Michael, what are you doing here?” Harlowe’s not sure of her own voice. It’s strange for sure. But there’s a glimmer of something light, something like happiness. It is happiness. He’s still the same. With the basketball hat, the fringed hair, the leather bracelets, and the rings. 

He opens his free side to her and Harlowe folds into his embrace. “Cal called me over. Said you were having a decent day. Wanted to check in.”

Harlowe and Michael have, over the years, gotten close. They bonded originally over video games. Harlowe has her degree in psychology and through her willingness to always listen to him they grew closer. Michael isn’t necessarily reserved but he’s not always forthcoming about things. He’s vocal when it’s necessary. Harlowe never judged--she pushed occasionally for him to open up. But she never sneered at him, never berated him over his feelings. She just listened. 

Michael returned the favor. He’s always become a great pillar of support since this funk after Esha’s birth. She had shockingly cried to Michael a couple times about her inability to conceive a third child. She wanted to give Calum that picture perfect family. Her body and mind weren’t ready for that--they were telling her to slow down. She always had trouble listening. 

“It’s been okay,” she says softly, pulling back from his hug. 

“Okay is good. Okay is great.”

“Are you going to help us?” Koha asks. 

Michael laughs. “Sure, why the--why not?” Michael’s still working at censoring him around the kids. Almost five years should’ve been enough practiced but Michael was only the uncle currently with no kids. He didn’t have the filter on all the time.

The three of them settle back down in the front garden. Harlowe pulls out the gardening seat for Michael to sit. He complained about potentially ruining his jeans. “Look!” Koha puts out a bug, nestled into the mulch. Harlowe pulls back his hands a little. Even though he’s wearing gloves, she fears that it could be a snake or spider. It’s not though upon closer inspection. 

By the time they move to the side of the house where the kitchen window is, Calum gazing out of it. “Lunch’s up soon, bud. Come inside and wash your hands,” he says softly to Koha. 

Koha and Harlowe look up at each other. The window is opened just enough. “Can I Momma?”

She grins and looks over to Calum. Hhe sighs, hopping onto the counter and holding out his hands. “Fine, you two are definitely fucking Aries.”

“Swear jar, Papa Bear,” she laughs, sliding off the gloves and hoisting Koha up. He grabs Calum’s forearms and he slides in through the window. Calum sets him down. “Wash your hands now. I don’t want to find actual ants on your ants on a log.”

She just barely catches Koha’s laugh as he walks away from the window. “He loves going in through the window. Why not let him live a little?”

“Because then he’ll think it’s normal to climb in through the windows,” Calum laughs. 

“You saying it’s not?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, missy.” They share a laugh. Including Michael. He’s used to their shenanigans. “You coming in for lunch?” Cal asks. 

“Once I finish up out here. Shit, the laundry.”

Calum shakes his head. “One load is already done. Second load is in the dryer.”

“I’m so sorry I forgot.”

“Baby, it’s okay.”

She sighs. “I’m just so off. I hate this.”

“Just consider the meds, think about it, okay? I’m not asking you to makeup your minds just yet. But don’t count it out.”

Michael rests a hand on her back, not quite on her shoulder but not quite off it either. “They honestly could help, Harlowe. Don’t eliminate the possibility. I know you don’t want to take meds. I know you can do this without. But you don’t have to.”

“The ACT is helping, I think. I just don’t want to add more to our medical expenses. I’m already running it up as it,” Harlowe counters. 

Calum wishes he could shake his wife sometimes. Snap her out of whatever haze she was in. Or just get her to see that he cares not what dime amount it costs. “You know money is not a problem here.” Harlowe opens her mouth. Calum continues before she can interject it. “Finish up in your beds and then come in and eat. Relax the rest of the day. Think you can finish the beds?”

She nods. It’s been weeks since she’s been out here. Calum tries to do it for her. Harlowe’s picky, picking it up from her mother and her grandmother the particular meticulousness when it comes to her yard. He does what he knows she likes and knows how to keep the basics up  but doesn’t push it too much further. 

He slides off the counter. “Ready to eat little man?” Koha nods. 

Harlowe goes back to her yard. Michael calls into the window for something before handing a bottle of water to Harlowe. “Maybe you should get out of LA,” he says holding the bag for weeds open.

“You sound like Calum now. You guys have been working here for years now.”

“It doesn’t mean that we can’t move, you know? We’ve been discussing going back to Sydney, anyway. Going back to our roots, settling down. Cal and Luke already have kids. LA’s no place to raise kids.”

She rips the weed from the dirty. Some mulch flies up through the hair. It lands and Harlowe stares down at it. “ I don’t want to be lectured at about moving.Then I have to look for a new university to work out. I’ve got three years where I’m at.”

“You’re not tenured. You said they’re already discussing making changes to the Creative Writing department.”

“I love the kids I work with. They’re brilliant. I have great reviews from them. They’d be crazy to get rid of me.” She yanks at out another weed.  

Michael sighs. “They’ve done crazier things before, you know that better than anyone.”

“Even if the band moves back, it will still take me awhile to find work. I can’t force Calum to take care of the bills alone.”

“Harlowe, you’re making fucking bank. Calum’s smart and has been for years now. He could handle everything and more by his income alone.”

He’s right. Calum’s invested some money. Most of those profits go towards savings for the kids future education plans. Advancements from albums and merch sales have also been sitting in savings for them. Her income is chump change comparatively. Calum’s always treated it equally. The sales from her books helps too for kids savings. Her salary covers half the bills.  My income is chump change compared to him.

She could move. Maybe she should. Calum’s been dropping the possibility more and more since everything went downhill. “My family,’” she says softly. 

“They’re going to cause you to go gray.”

A sob chokes her. Her chest squeezes. When did she start crying? When did the tears burn her eyes? I’m so used to being able to handle things. I don’t know what to do.”

Michael rubs at her back, shushing her softly. “You’re allowed to be weak. Being strong doesn’t mean being able to handle everything. It’s about knowing your limits, knowing when you need help.”

It takes a few minutes before the tears subside. The water soothes the ache in her throat. The passing moments are filled with silence. Michael points to some small green leaves, making sure it’s okay to pull before he gets a grip on it. He can’t tell if it’s a new plant or not and would rather not cause her another crying fit. Harlowe nods before clipping off some browning leaves. 

“You are not alone in this, okay? Remember that.”

“Thanks, Michael.” 

She watches, to make sure he gets safely to his car. It’s all the years of drinking as a young woman and knowing that any moment could be someone’s last. It’s the years of being a mother and freaking out whenever Te Koha decides to hide behind a rack or mannequin. She has to see with her own eyes to everyone’s safely. 

When she gets inside, after double checking the lock on the door, she notices  Esha’s standing with her little horse. Her smile is bright. Harlowe does her best to return it as she goes to wash her hands. Esha clambers right behind her, the clacking of the plastic striking the floors. Harlowe steps to get a paper towel. More clacks are heard. 

Harlowe runs in a circle, the clicking following her ‘round and ‘round. She scopes up her little girl, lifting Esha above her head. “You’re getting so big, girlie. I love you.”

She giggles at Harlowe. “You’re not tired?” Harlowe asks. “You should be tired by now. You ran behind Koha today. He’s a fast one. My little zoomer.”

When she looks over to him, sitting at the table, tracing over the alphabet with Calum, he grins. “Nyoom,” he laughs. 

“Down,” Esha pleads. It’s softly at first. Then she repeats herself, more firmly, when the request is not immediately fulfilled. “Down.” 

“So demanding, you’re my child. Lord help you.” Harlowe sets her down and she runs back to her horse. 

Calum chuckles. “Alright, c’mon, Koha. You’re half way done.”

“I’m being Momma’s little zoomer,” he huffs but goes back to tracing. 

Calum turns his attention back to Harlowe. “Make sure to eat.” 

She nods. She’s not very hungry though. She knows she should be. But she’s just not. Her appetite goes most days. “Want to shower first.”

He points to the fridge. He means right now. “Please, baby. Just something. A turkey sandwich and apple. It doesn’t have to be a lot. I even bought pink ladies, your favorite.”

“I smell.”

“Harlowe.”

She knows that tone. She marches to the fridge to find the plate all ready for her. She knows, during the first couple of bites that she won’t get it all down. Something is better than nothing under Calum’s watchful stare. She pretends not to notice his constant glances and gazes out of the same window that Te Koha was lifted through. They both know the other is watching. 

More than half the sandwich is gone and the whole apple is finished. Harlowe tips the plate in Calum’s direction before dumping the core and sandwich remnants. He gives a slight nod. His acknowledgement of what she’s eaten. He worries. Maybe more so than he should. But who can fault the concern? Who can find any issue in the pure love that he carries for her? He wants her to be okay. 

Harlowe walks over to the penmanship study and tugs at Calum’s elbows. “You stink, you know?” he teases. 

She lifts an arm, turning the armpit to his face. “Wanna try something else smart to say?” 

Calum rears back. “God, I can’t breathe. Te Koha, help me. I’m going to suffocate from the stink.”

Koha laughs in his seat. “Sorry Daddy, I have to finish tracing.”

“My own son betrays me,” he gasps, pretending to pass out. No one reacts. “So you all were just going to let me die? Even you Esha,” Calum sits up, pulling her into his chest. He smiles over Harlowe’s shoulder to her. She coos, smacking her toys together in excitement. “Yeah, even you were just going to leave your old man high and dry. No love.”

She stands and walks over. Harlowe end down to pick her up. She reaches for Calum though. “She’s such a daddy’s girl,” Harlowe laughs. 

“I love you,” he breathes into her skin, lips brushing over from the forehead kiss.. “I love you so much. Mommy loves you too. You too, Koha,” he says turning his attention to his son, brushing his fingers through the tight coils. “We love you too.”

“I know,” he says softly. A grin taking over his face. “I know.”

Harlowe decides on a soak. But after her shower. The shower will let her cry if she needs too. Though, after her tears in the garden, she thinks today will be decent. The rose scent of the bubbles starts to invade her nostrils. Her eyes close and Koha’s face fills her dark vision. His tears. His plea for her to get better. Her own children take the blame for her brain’s reaction. 

The sting starts up behind her closed lids. God, she’s so unfit. With lips pressed together, Harlowe tries to quiet the sobs. It’s just about nap time; she doesn’t want to wake them. But God, how unfit. Unable to remember the laundry she had started. Hardly able to keep the yard together and in good shape. Can’t even a fucking sandwich. 

Every second she can sit in bed, she does. Calum must think she’s disgusted with him. Harlowe hasn’t touched him sexually in months. She wants too, just lacks the motivation to go through with it. All her energy is spent before her feet ever hit the floor. Covering her mouth, she lets one nasty sob rip through her. The floor thuds with footsteps; Calum’s heard. Fuck. She sniffles. Pull it together. He can’t see her crying again. He doesn’t even bother knocking, not that he needed to anyway. If he heard the wail, she knows he would’ve broken down the door if necessary. 

“Babe,” he rushes out, settling onto the edge of the tub. “Talk to me, please.”

Her hands tremble; her throat hurts. The words are stuck in the dryness that coats her mouth. Grabbing her towel from the counter, he sets it on his lap before pulling her out of the water. Calum wraps the extra fabric, then holds her to his chest. The rocking motion helps. All she has to do is focus on the back and forth motion. She doesn’t have to think about anything else. 

“Te Koha thought it was his fault,” she breathes. The words are sour. She feels like there is bile on them as she speaks. “He thought he had done something wrong. I forgot about the laundry. I’m barely eating. I’m falling apart. I don’t want to fall apart. I’m not taking the fertility meds like I should. I want to give up; I don’t want to keep doing this.”

Calum finally speaks, voice thick. “Do you want to get better?”

“Sometimes I do; sometimes I don’t.”

“Right now, do you want to get better?”

“I’m just tired, Calum. I’m so fucking tired.”

“You know I’m here for you. You know I care, right?” She nods against his chest. “Do you trust me?” She nods again, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt. He releases a breathe. “Then we can’t stay here. You can’t keep dodging therapy appointments. You can’t skip your meds.”

“I know; I’m sorry.”

Calum kisses the top of her head, or what he can reach of it behind the pineappled afro. “I need some extra hands. We need some extra hands; I know a nanny scares you. But we’re getting out of LA, as quick as possible. I’m calling your parents, see if they can help for a little bit. But we’ve gotta get out of here. I know you’re worried about insurance costs and such. But maybe it’s time to leave the States. My parents could help us; I’m sure they’d be happy to.”

She is small, in that moment she is that eleven year old girl that cried in a bathroom because she heard her parents arguing. She is that eleven year old girl that needed her father’s comforting touch. She is small again, in Calum’s lap, still damp from the shower and bath. She needs someone to help her. Maybe she can stop torturing herself, her husband, and her kids. 

“Okay,” she whispers. “I need the help.” A tiny drop of relief hits her stomach. She needs help. She needs help. She just needs the help. There’s no shame in that, right? There’s nothing wrong in admitting that sometimes the burden is just too heavy to carry all by herself.

[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business Chapter Five

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

Warning: There is graphic descriptions of violence below.

Chapter Five

Caroline woke lazily. It had been a long time since she had such a good night’s sleep. She stretched and felt the silk sheets graze over her naked body. She sat up slowly and looked around the room. She was alone in the bed and pouted slightly. She never had the chance to sleep in the same bed as Klaus and was looking forward to waking up next to him.

Apparently, he had other ideas.

She turned and searched for her purse; noticing that it was still on the floor from the night before. Caroline laid down on her stomach, not wanting to leave the bed, and reached for it. She struggled for a moment and eventually pulled it to her. Once she had ahold of it, she dug through it and pulled her phone from it. It was dead. She pulled the charger out of her purse and plugged it into the wall; attaching it to her phone and letting it sit to charge

She pulled herself from the bed and picked up Klaus’s Henley he wore the night before, slipping it over her head. She walked into Klaus’s bathroom. It was the same bathroom with the big round tub she sat in with Klaus nearly four months ago, plotting Stefan’s demise. Everything changed that night. No longer were they in the middle of some trifling affair; Stefan started a war he could not win the moment he left bruises on her.

Caroline shook herself from those thoughts and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess; her curls were twisted and knotted. She ran her fingers through her hair in hopes of claiming the mess. Once done, she searched Klaus’s medicine cabinet and pulled out his toothpaste. She picked up his brush and cleaned her teeth. Once done, she spit into the skin and wiped off her face. She was going to have to ask him about picking up some everyday supplies for her.

She leaned against the counter; looking at herself and she noticed that for the first time in a very long time, she woke smiling. The woman in front of her was happy. Yes, she cheated on her husband with someone who was just as despicable as him; but this man never laid a hand on her. Never forced himself inside her or made her wonder if jumping of a skyscraper would be better than being alive.

And Klaus was the father of her child.

The thought of her pregnancy made Caroline smile. She placed her hand on her stomach, biting her lips. Before a few days ago, she never even considered the fact that she was pregnant. Her period was not consistent and with the stress she was under, she assumed that was why she had not gotten it. She suffered no real typical pregnancy symptoms, no nausea or vomiting to make her mind wonder to that possibility. If it was not for the doctor’s confirmation and seeing it firsthand, she would not have believed it.

Pulling herself from her musings, Caroline headed back into the bedroom and walked back to her phone. It had enough of a charge for her to scroll through it. She winced at the amount of text messages from Stefan demanding to know where she was. He called her multiple times and it appeared that Enzo is MIA as well. He would have to be.

Its past 11 Caroline, where are you? Caroline. Home. Now. You better get the fuck home now. Why is your phone off? Where are you? Why the fuck can’t I track you? Did you run off with your bodyguard? How fucking cliché.

Most of the messages where the same. Threats of bodily injury and harassment. She would have to show Klaus these and groaned at the thought. Stefan also left a couple of voicemails, vocalizing his anger. Once these would have scared the shit out of her, but she no longer felt any fear from him. Perhaps it was foolish, but it was how she felt. She was not going to let her husband stand in the way of her happiness. If that meant she was going to have to lay low for a while, Caroline was willing to do that. On impulse, Caroline opened the string of text messages and replied.

I’m leaving you Stefan. I’m not coming home.

She hit send and placed the phone on the bedside table, allowing it to charge. Caroline stood up from the bed and walked out; hearing her ringtone go off. She just kept walking, listing to the tone fade away in the bedroom. She knew that he would continue to call but there was no point in picking up. It wouldn’t end well.

She found Klaus in his home office, looking at his screen intently. She admired him for a moment as he worked; she liked the way his eye crinkled just slightly when he appeared annoyed or how he squinted at the screen to see something better; or how his lips curled up when something distasteful appeared. Upon that look, Caroline’s sense of hearing registered what the noise from his computer was. It was moaning, the slapping of skin and cries of pleasure.

“Is this going to be our life together? Me waking up to an empty bed only to find you watching porn?” Caroline teased and Klaus’s eyes turned to her. His eyes took in the sight of her, messy hair, wearing his Henley and bare legs. He gazed at her completely unashamed and Caroline couldn’t help but bask in his desire.

“Yes.” Klaus replied in a bland tone as though he was talking about the weather. “You’ve found out my dirty little secret. I’m a porn addict.”

Caroline snorted at that. Porn would be the least of Caroline’s worries given that he commits murder on a regular basis. Klaus held out his hand and she made her way around his desk; Klaus pulling her onto his lap. Caroline took a good look at what was on the screen and crinkled her nose.

“Ugh.” It was frame after frame of various positions and sex acts of Stefan and Elena. She knew that there were cameras littered around the mansion, but she never actually considered the fact that she would have to see them having sex on screen. She saw it once in person and that was more than enough for her.

“Trust me Sweetheart, there is nothing arousing about this in the slightest.” He leaned down and kissed her head. He held her tightly as though to remind himself that she had finally come home to him. “I would have much rather have stayed in bed with you, waking you up slowly. I thought about it.”

“What stopped you?”

“You looked peaceful.” His tone was soft, and he could not help but kiss her forehead again. “You finally appeared ready to rest after everything you had been through; I didn’t want to disturb that.” Caroline gave him a warm smile and leaned up to kiss his lips. “Besides, you are the woman carrying my child and you must get your relaxation.”

“Oh no. You’re not going to be an overbearing father-to-be are you? I’m pregnant not an invalid.” Caroline asked in mock outrage. Klaus just shrugged; giving her a dimpled smile. He was going to be. Caroline could tell. “So, you dragged yourself out of bed to watch my husband have sex with his sister-in-law?”

“I’m working.” Caroline cocked her eyebrow and he rolled his eyes at her. “This ends now. I’m done waiting for Elijah and the feds to bring a case against Stefan. It’s been dragged out for months because Alaric Saltzman is to damn good at his job. I’m going back to the very beginning. To our first plan.”

“Turn brother against brother.” She whispered. She looked towards the screen and realized what he was doing. “You’re compiling them. All the videos of Stefan and Elena, and you’re going to send them too Damon.”

“Yes.”

“When are you sending it?” Caroline asked. For so long, her focus had been getting out of that house. Gaining the courage to walk-away and take back control of her life. Sitting in Klaus’s lap, she realized that she could have left sooner; that she didn’t need to get in the middle of this war by becoming involved with Klaus. It would have been hell and Stefan most likely would have tried to track her down, but she could have done it. She could have run far and wide. It just was not that simple. Yes. She hated Stefan. Yes. She was terrified of him. Yes. He did terrible things to her; but for a long time, she thought she deserved nothing better.

She thought that there was nothing else out there for her.

Until Klaus helped her pick up those pieces. He showed her what it meant to be loved. How she wasn’t just some trophy to be won and that she could be a strong woman, standing on her own two feet. Yes, she jumped from one mob boss to another, but if she told Klaus she wanted to walk across the Grand Canyon on a tight rope, he would cheer her on the entire time. It just took the life now growing inside her to wake her up to that fact. She would kill anyone who tried to hurt this child.

“Not sure, yet. Elijah is coming over this morning to come up with the best course of action.” Caroline bit her lip, she had a feeling that Elijah was going to try and talk them out of sending the videos to Damon. Damon was unpredictable and while she knew he would lose his mind to learn that his wife was unfaithful, Caroline was just unsure exactly what lengths he would be willing to go to. “I told him. About the baby I mean.”

“Oh? And what did he say?”

“I think you’ll find, Sweetheart, that when it comes to Elijah, the one thing he cares about above all is family.” Klaus replied, he placed his hand on her stomach and left it there. “This child is not only have us Caroline, Elijah will burn the world down before anyone tries to hurt our baby. And if something were to happen to me...”

“Don’t.”

“Caroline, listen. Please.” His tone was serious and his gaze soft. “I’m not immortal, love. If something were to go wrong and something were to happen to me, you take our baby and you run to Elijah. He will ensure your safety. He secured passage for Rebekah in order to keep her safe from Stefan and Damon, he will do the same for you.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, not wanting to hear this. “We failed with Kol. We won’t fail again.”

“You didn’t fail Klaus.” Caroline whispered. “So, Elijah is happy to be getting a new family member?” Klaus nodded and Caroline smiled. He returned to the screen, muting the sound but continued compiling the images. She curled up in his lap and just let herself relax in his arms. She couldn’t help but look at the screen to see Stefan’s face. “Stefan has been blowing up my phone.”

“That is not surprising.” Klaus replied. “I would not be surprised if he has men roaming the city looking for you. Those friends you have…those spoiled little rich girls you see on occasion.”

“Haley and Aurora?”

“Yes. Them.” Klaus waved his hand, dismissing their names. “He probably sent men to their houses and tore it apart. He probably went to your childhood home also to see if you went back there. Trust me love, he is searching and won’t stop until he finds you.” Caroline felt a shiver run down her spine. “He won’t find you, Sweetheart. I won’t let him, but it does mean you might have to stay in the penthouse for a small while.”

“Okay.” Klaus looked down at her in surprise. He was expecting more of a fight, but she just smiled. “I don’t like it. I spent years being a prisoner in my own home, I don’t want to have to do it again, but this isn’t just about me. Like you said. We have a baby to protect.” Klaus’s smile melted Caroline’s heart and she couldn’t help but kiss him. “Although, you might need to have some clothes and other stuff brought here because I can only wear the same pair of jeans and your Henley’s for so long.”

“That can be arranged.”

“And…I might have texted Stefan.” Klaus’s body froze and his eyes darkened. “I told him that I was leaving him and that I wasn’t coming back. Then I walked away, and I have no idea what he said. Probably threating me or something.” Klaus pulled her closer. She knew that he would not like the idea of her speaking to Stefan, but she felt like she needed to do it.

“No matter. He won’t find you.” Klaus’s resolve was final and absolute. Caroline nodded and stood from his lap. He pouted slightly when she pulled away.

“Don’t pout. I’m going to shower before Elijah shows up.” She leaned down and kissed him again before walking out of the office. She padded barefoot through the penthouse, feeling more at home than she had in a very long time. She entered the bedroom that she assumed she would begin sharing with Klaus and went into the bathroom; ignoring her phone that was still ringing.

Once she was done in the shower, Caroline went to the dresser. She did have a few items there, mostly lingerie that Klaus bought her. There were a few other items, a couple of tank-top and a jacket, that would last her a few days, but she would have to get more. She pulled out a pair of racy red panties and slipped them on. She pulled on the matching bra before pulling on her jeans from the day before. She walked over to Klaus’s closet and pulled out a grey Henley.

Klaus could deal with her stealing his shirts for a bit.

She grabbed her phone, which was fully charged, and checked it. Stefan called her nearly thirty-six times and the number of messages he sent her were ungodly. She rolled her eyes and pocketed the phone. As she left the bedroom, running her hands through her damp curls, Caroline could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Klaus and Elijah were sitting at the kitchen counter, Elijah drinking a cup of coffee; listening to his brother speak.

“That is reckless Nikaus. The last thing we want is the Salvatore’s to be able to trace your location back to his penthouse.” Elijah reasoned. Klaus scowled but nodded. Elijah turned to Caroline and gave her a warm smile. “Hello Mrs. Sal-“Klaus hissed at his brother for the address. “Caroline. I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She pulled a cup out of the cabinet and went to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup. She turned to see both Klaus and Elijah’s eyes on her, watching her. She narrowed her eyes at them and put her hands on her hips. “Oh no. I may be pregnant, but one cup of coffee is not going to hurt me or the baby, so if either of you try and take this from me, there will be hell to pay.”

“We said nothing, love.”

“And keep it that way.” Caroline muttered and felt the phone in her back pocket vibrate. She pulled it out again and groaned. Stefan was calling her again. She declined the call and turned her phone on silent. “I need a new number.” She tossed the offending phone on the counter. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Elijah and I were discussing the manner of how the videos should delivered. I was just going to send them off in an email and let the pieces fall where they may, but Elijah believes that they should be mailed but that leaves room for them falling into the wrong hands. Or Elena checking the mail and coming across them first.”

“Can emails be encrypted?”

“It’s possible yes.”

Caroline paused, thinking. There were so many possibilities and while their goal was to turn Damon against Stefan, that would only be a temporary solution. It would only get rid of half the problem; but only if Damon acted as they predicted he would. Once that storm blows over and Damon is left standing, then what? She understood that Elijah was only trying to protect them for what comes at that point. While Damon would be distracted with the news of his wife and brother’s betrayal, they did not want him to have information that could potentially be an issue later on.

“I have an idea.” Caroline replied and the two of them looked at her. She sat her coffee cup on the counter and picked up her phone. “I’ll send them. This phone is encrypted, and Klaus ensured that it can’t be traced. If anything, it will bounce back to my old phone because the number is still the same. Damon already knows my email address, so it won’t be coming from an unexpected source.”

“Would he even check an email if you sent one?” Elijah asked.

“Probably not. Although, they are out looking for me so it’s possible he might.” Caroline paused and thought. “But what if I tell him to check it.” Klaus began shaking his head, as though he did not want her to have anything to do with either of the Salvatore brothers anymore. “Hear me out. I call him. He probably will answer because Stefan is on a wild goose chase looking for me. I will not come in physical contact with him and he will be so focused on the email, that he won’t even be worried about me.”

“I see why you like her brother. She has quick mind.” Elijah gave her a rare smile. Klaus still looked unsure but there was a hint of pride behind his eyes. “We should do it sooner rather than later. Caroline, are you sure you want to involve yourself in this?”

“I’m already involved.” Caroline looked at them both. “Damon will assume I am a heartbroken wife who is confessing her husband’s affair with his wife. He isn’t going to think that I am connected to Klaus. That way when the time comes to take down Damon, which will be easier once Stefan is out of the way, he won’t see you coming. He won��t suspect my involvement with you.”

“Very well. Shall we?” Elijah stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did. Caroline nodded. Klaus picked up Caroline’s phone and held out his hand. The two linked their fingers together and headed towards his office, Caroline enjoying her coffee as they went; Elijah trailing behind them.

Klaus scrolled through the messages from Stefan and Caroline could see his features grow darker. Message after message were threats of what he would do to her when he got his hands on her. She could tell that the images of her bruised body were flashing through Klaus’s mind. She squeezed his hand to remind him that she was there with him, safe and despite the chaos, she was happy.

Stefan’s name flashed up on the screen again and Klaus quickly ignored it. He went into Stefan’s contact information and blocked the number so at least the messages and calls would stop. There was no point in putting Caroline through that harassment; it served no purpose. Klaus thought that once this was all done, Caroline would have to get a new number and start fresh. Once they entered the office, Klaus handed Caroline her phone and went behind his desk. Caroline moved to sit on the edge of the desk while Elijah made himself comfortable in one of the other chairs.

Klaus typed away on his computer and after a moment, Caroline heard a notification go off; informing her that she had an email. Klaus sent her the file that contained Stefan and Elena’s sex videos and Caroline scowled at how massive it was. She quickly downloaded it onto her phone and deleted the email; and for good measure, erased it from her trash bin as well. She also did a quick password change to be safe incase Stefan decided to try and hack her email. Once done, she opened up a new email and composed one to Damon, attaching the video now stored on her phone.

“Ready love?”

“As I’ll ever be. I guess.” Caroline pulled up Damon’s contact information and hovered over it. She rarely ever called him. In the last few months, Stefan had been monitoring her text messages, phone calls and emails to ensure that she didn’t reach out to Damon at all. Even if she wanted to speak with Damon, Stefan made it nearly impossible for her to do so. After a deep breath, Caroline dialed Damon’s number; putting the call onto speakerphone. She listened to the phone ring a few seconds before Damon’s voice came onto the lie.

“You really are asking to be punished, Blondie.” Damon answered, his voice having that hint of sarcasm that he was known for. “You do realize that Stefan has a man hunt out for you right now? I just left that feisty red-heads house. She bit me.”

“Good for Aurora. Did you leave her alive?” It was cruel, Caroline knew, but she felt no remorse if Aurora met a tragic end at Damon’s hands. She wasn’t exactly a good friend nor were they close. The ‘friendship’ she shared with both Aurora and Haley were superficial and lacked depth; something Stefan liked about them. They posed no risk but still showed the world that Caroline had a life; a façade.

“She isn’t our concern right now.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Listen. Tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you and maybe I can keep Stefan from putting you in the hospital. The longer you hold out, the worse his temper will be.”

“I’m not coming home Damon. Stop looking. You won’t find me.”

“Give us time.” Damon chuckled. “If you don’t want to be found, why are you calling?”

“It’s a curtesy call. That’s all.” Caroline flashed a look to Klaus; whose eyes were black and dark. “I’ll make this quick. A few months ago, when Stefan lost control and cracked one of my ribs and chocked me. I lied to you. It wasn’t because I was out with a friend all night. It was because I caught Stefan in bed with your wife.” Caroline could hear how still Damon went on the other line. “Stefan and Elena have been having an affair for months and I figured you should know.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Caroline replied. She quickly typed on her phone and sent off the email. “Check your email Damon and you will see how honest I’m being. Do what you will with the information. I’m just the messenger.” She could hear Damon typing on his phone and she assumed he was pulling up her email. “Goodbye Damon. Stop looking for me.”

With that, Caroline hung up the phone. Both Klaus and Elijah sat back in their chairs with nothing to say. There really was not much to do at that point. They made their move and now it was time see Damon’s reaction. It could be instantaneous, or it could take days. While she could predict that Stefan would act on impulse, Damon was a wild card. He could act immediately or stew on the information for days.

“I’ll keep men eyeing Damon’s home in case he goes after Elena first.” Klaus replied. “I’ll monitor the security feed to see if Damon come to seek out Stefan.” He paused thinking. “Perhaps we should have them tailed? Damon is smart enough to know when he is being followed but with this, he may not care.”

“I can put a few agents on them both, with instructions not to intervene if the two would clash.” Elijah replied. “They already know that the FBI is investigating them, therefore it would not come as a surprise if they are noticed.” Klaus nodded and Elijah pulled out his phone, sending off message after message. “Now I supposed we wait.”

It took longer than Caroline expected for Damon to react. Days passed and they heard nothing from any of the men that were tailing either Stefan or Damon. Stefan was searching every inch of New York looking for Caroline. However, she did not leave the penthouse; pleased at the fact that Klaus had balconies and rooftop access if she felt the need to go outside.

Klaus had a minion shop for Caroline and by the next day, she had an entire new wardrobe, bathroom supplies and essentially moved into the penthouse with Klaus. She even made an offhand comment about adding a few throw pillows and fluffy blankets to the living room; those were ordered and delivered before the week was out. Klaus wanted her to make herself at home and she did.

It was the following Sunday night that she was curled up on the sofa; the fire going and buried under one of the blankets Klaus bought that they heard something. She was staring at the ultrasound in her hand, imagining their child running around the penthouse. She thought on whether or not she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom or do something else with her life. Stefan never allowed her to have a job or finish college. Klaus would want to her to follow her dreams and she let her head wonder at the possibilities.

“Caroline.” Klaus replied, his head peeking out from his office. He waved for her to follow him. She pushed the blanket of off her and made her way into Klaus’s office. He had been taking the surveillance of her old home seriously. While he still went into the office, in order to keep up appearances, he spent more time at the penthouse with Caroline than he had previously. During the hours that he could not be watching the cameras, he had someone do it for him; either Elijah, an agent or even Enzo.

When she entered the office, she moved around the desk and saw her old living room. It looked messy and trashed, probably from Stefan’s temper. She could see bottles and bottles of alcohol littering the floor. Beyond the shot the camera provided, Caroline could not see much more. Stefan and Elena were in the middle of the room arguing about something. Klaus turned the sound up and the two of them to hear their conversation.

“He knows Stefan. I don’t know how he figured it out. He has been acting off for days. I caught him today tearing through my things. He took my phone and read everything” Elena stated urgently. “We need to go. Now. Pack a bag and let’s go.”

“I can’t!” Stefan stated, pointing at the ankle monitor.

“Cut it the fuck off!” Elena whispered harshly. “Once Damon gets ahold of us, the feds will be the last thing we have to worry about.”

“It’s not the fed, Elena. Its Klaus. He is the one doing this.”

“Fuck Klaus. Pack a bag and let’s go.”

“Do you really think that wise Elena?” Both Stefan and Elena’s heads whipped around. Neither Klaus nor Caroline could see him, but Damon’s voice was unmistakable, and Elena’s terrified face told them exactly what they wanted to know. “We were not done with our discussion Elena; a wife should not run out on her husband.”

“Damon…”

“Then again, a wife does not fuck her husband’s brother. I didn’t believe it at first when I learned of your affair, but the proof was undeniable.” The words were biting and harsh. Elena froze in place. “Cortez, do me a favor and escort my wife to the car. Keep her there. I need to have a word with my brother.” A man who Caroline recognized as someone who worked close with Damon came on screen. Elena backed up slowly. Stefan stepped in front of her, but Cortez continued to approach.

“Maddox.”

Maddox stepped into the frame and quickly pulled Stefan away from Elena, allowing Cortez to grab Elena. She started streaming and hitting Cortez. She bit his arm and in response, Cortez slapped her across the face with enough force that she stumbled to the side. Stefan tried to move but Maddox, who was bigger than Stefan, grabbed him by the throat, holding him in place. Cortez picked Elena up from floor and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her from the room while she kicked and screamed. Once Elena’s screams died down, Caroline could hear a shuffle on the auto and Damon appeared on screen, carrying two of her dining room chairs, placing them across from one another and what appeared to be a golfing bag. Damon sat down, crossed his legs and looked at his brother.

“Have a seat Stefan.” Maddox roughly forced Stefan into the chair that Damon sat across from him. “I spent the last view days watching you fuck my wife in various locations in this house.” Damon drawled slowly. “Then, I talked with your men. Maddox here was more than happy to tell me all the times he saw Elena come and go from this house; without me.”

“Maddox works for me.”

“Not anymore. I offered him three times what you pay him to help me with our discussion.” Damon replied. He motioned to Maddox, who moved off screen only to appear seconds later with a large bag in his hand. “Now, Maddox has been itching to do more field work. No more guard duty but the problem is, he needs practice. I figured that now would be the perfect time for him to gain experience.”

“Is this your game? You’re going to torture me?” Stefan replied. Maddox reached for Stefan’s coat and pulled it off, along with his shirt. He did not move, instead keeping his eyes on his brother at all times. Neither were willing to flinch.

“I’m not. Maddox is.” Damon motioned for Maddox to open his bag. He pulled out some kind of can, shook it and then pulled out a lighter. Maddox looked at Stefan thoughtfully before setting clicking the lighter and spraying the can. A burst of flame appeared, and Stefan screamed, deep burns appearing on the side of his chest. It went on for several minutes; Maddox burning various parts of Stefan’s body. “When did it start? The affair.”

“Fuck you.”

And thus, began the interrogation. Damon would ask question after question regarding his relationship with Elena. Stefan would refuse to answer, and Maddox would start to burn him. Once Maddox grew tired of the smell of burning flesh, he switched to sharp wooden picks. He inserted the small picks under Stefan nail’s, pulling upwards until a nail was completely ripped off. Damon would ask other questions and if Stefan’s answer was not sufficient, Maddox would rip another nail. Eventually Stefan had no nails let and Maddox switched to knives…and then blunt objects. Damon never took his eyes away from his brother.

Caroline watched the screen, unable to take her eyes away from him. Klaus slipped his hands into hers, never letting go. Part of him wanted to pull her away and shield her eyes but he knew she needed to witness this. So, instead he stayed silent, watching as Caroline took in every scene before them. She didn’t blink or move. She stood there with her shoulder’s back and an unreadable expression on her face. Her free hand still clutching the ultrasound picture.

“Stop.” Damon’s voice commanded. Maddox withdrew the knife he was using to cut a large gash over his chest, slicing open the burns on his chest. Damon stood from his chair. He opened the golf bag and pulled out a golf club. “Remember how dad loved to golf? Every Sunday, like clockwork we would go to the course. Remember how you killed him? Your very first kill was our father. I still remember looking at his detached head. I buried his body. I covered for you. And how do you repay me? You fuck my wife.”

With the last word, Damon swung the golf club; hitting Stefan on the side of the face. Blood spat from his mouth, splattering across the white leather couch Caroline purchased after her wedding. With one swing, it was like a tsunami crashed into land for the first time. Damon let loose. Swing after swing, hit after hit; Damon would not let up. Stefan fell to the ground and Damon continued to beat him with the golf club. When he stopped, Damon looked down at his brother and spat on him. He tossed the club to the side and walked away, never looking back at his brother as he left the house. At first, Caroline thought that Stefan had died right there, but when his body twitched, and he pulled himself up slightly; she was surprised.

“He isn’t dead.”

“No but he will be. An hour, maybe two.”

“Take me to him.” Caroline stated and Klaus blanched. He was about to protest when Caroline held up her hand. “Take me to him. I won’t be alone if you come with me, but I need to see him.” She sucked in a breath. “I need to tell him that it was me. That I was the one who put him in that position. I want to be the last person he sees when he dies, knowing that I was responsible. I want to watch him die.”

Klaus looked unsure of himself; thoughts going back and forth about what the right answer was. He wanted to keep her from Stefan at all cost, even during his final hours of life, but he knew that Caroline would go without him; and he would never stop her from anything. He would prefer to be with her instead of her going alone.

“Okay.”

The drive through the city was quiet and Klaus did what he could to avoid most of the traffic. It was snowing and Caroline could not help but think how beautiful it was. There was an almost romantic feel to it, in a way. Caroline got married during a winter snowstorm in the middle of January almost two years prior and seeing how the marriage was ending; she felt that the snow was fitting.

When they reached the mansion she once viewed as a prison, she couldn’t help but notice how dead it looked. Not a single light could be seen through the windows. The front door was kicked down and it honestly amazed Caroline that the place was not swarming with police. Then again, the house was huge and the distance between the houses were significant. When she entered the house, the foyer seemed like it always had; cold.

“Please, stay here. He can’t hurt me.” Caroline placed a hand on Klaus’s chest and pleaded with him. “If I need you, I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll be right through the archway, no farther.” Caroline nodded, agreeing to the compromise. He did not want to put her in danger but understood that she needed to do this. She turned from him and made her way into the living room. Unlike the foyer, the living room was destroyed. It was far worse in person than on computer monitor. Beside the liquor bottles and general mess, it appears that Stefan must have flown into a rage when Elena told him that Damon knew about their affair. He must have torn the room apart. The chairs were in the same place as they were when Damon had Maddox torture Stefan. The man in question was resting against the sofa, having propped himself up; unable to go any further. Caroline strolled over to the chair Damon had previously occupied, stepping over debris and bottles as she went, and sat down; looking at Stefan.

“Hello Stefan.” Her voice was gentle but there was a layered mirth behind it. Stefan was worse for wear. His injuries were far worse up close than she expected. Parts of his skin were covered in blisters from Maddox’s flames and there were at least a dozen gashes cut deep into his skin. He was covered in dry blood; some of which was seeping out of his mouth. His eyes held a slight glaze to them, but he was focused completely on her. “That looks like it hurts.”

“What do you want?”

“Can’t a wife come check on her husband?” That caused Stefan to give a humorless laugh, which was followed but the grabbing of his abdomen; almost tumbling over in pain. “In truth, I came back because I have a confession to make.” Stefan looked like he didn’t really care about whatever Caroline had to say, and that made the moment almost sweeter. She was the last person he wanted to be with when he died. “I’ve been having an affair.”

“Let me guess, the bodyguard?” Stefan coughed out. She could tell he wanted to roll his eyes but was in too much pain to do so. “I’ve suspected that the two of you were sleeping together. Always using him when you left. Figured sticking you with multiple guards would stop that. If I discovered for sure, I was going to kill the both of you and be done.”

“It wasn’t Enzo. He covered for me, but I’ve never had sex with him.” Caroline replied, a wicked smile graced her lips. She wanted to see the look on his face when he realized the gravity of his foolish mistake. Stefan underestimated her and Caroline that no one would do so ever again. “Ask me who I’ve been sleeping with.”

“Honestly, I don’t care.” Stefan replied. Caroline stood from her chair and knelt down beside him. She viewed a gash that ran over a burn mark. She reached out and pressed her nail into it. She twisted it, feeling the blood surge around her finger. Stefan locked his jaw, trying to prevent himself from screaming. Caroline enjoyed the sight of him suffering from the pain she caused him.

“Ask me who I have been sleeping with.”

“Who have you been fucking Caroline?”

“Klaus Mikaelson.”

That visceral reaction Stefan tossed her was worth every second of the misery she suffered at his hands. Stefan jerked towards her and she jumped back slightly; a look of triumph on her face. Stefan was huffing and blistering, blood spurting from his lips. His eyes held a fire inside that would have terrified Caroline if Stefan was in his right form.

“You bitch.”

“It’s hitting you isn’t it? All those times you and Damon discussed your plans in front of me. Letting details slip here or there? I heard it all. You thought I was empty headed and weak. No. I listened to everything. Remembered everything.” Caroline sat back down in the chair and crossed her legs. “We’ve been sleeping together for at least ten months. The first time he fucked me was in his office, after I told him you were in love with Elena.”

“Elena and I were not together ten months ago.”

“No. But I knew you loved her. All those times you whispered her name in my ear? I figured it out. I told him that the way to take you down was to drive a wedge between you and Damon, using Elena. And then I took my dress off for him and let him fuck me just because I knew it would piss you off.” She cocked her head. “I’m pregnant and you’re going to die. Elena most likely is going to die. Klaus will hunt Damon down, and he too will die. The Mikaelson family lives and grows inside me, while the rest of yours die. I win Stefan.”

With that, Caroline watched him. He couldn’t speak and she could tell that he was in agony. His breathing started laboring and she knew it would be soon. Stefan tried to look away from her, but Caroline would lean bend down and make him look at her. She was going to be the last thing he saw on this earth. It didn’t take long; less than an hour after she arrived did Stefan take his last breath. His eyes glassed over and soon there was nothing left.

And just like that, Caroline became a widow.

She stood from her chair, giving Stefan’s body one last look before turning and heading back out to the foyer. Klaus was still there, leaning against the wall; a proud smirk on his lips. She knew that he heard every word. Not being able to help herself, she walked over to him and pulled him into an embrace. She kissed him deeply, pouring every ounce of relief, passion and bloodlust she felt in that moment. Klaus understood what she needed.

“I’m done here.” She whispered when their lips broke apart. “Take me home.”

[renee-writer]

Room and Board Chapter 13 You Dinna Need To

Explicit

“You dinna have too.” They stand in his room after returning from the marriage ceremony. It had been a simple thing, a trip to the register's office. He wore a suit and tie. She her best dress and an veil she had found. “To make me feel like a bride.” A joining of hands, a few words, sign the license, and it was done.

“I know. I want to. I want you. I just fear disappointing you. I've no experience outside.. And I want it to be good.” She shyly confesses. She stands in her bare feet, having pulled the stockings and shoes off as soon as she entered. The veil still covers her head. She is unbearably beautiful.

“It is impossible for you to disappoint me. Claire, you can’t give more then yourself. We will go slow. Because, you see, I've some fears too. With your only time being, well I don’t wish to do anything that brings any of those memories back.”

“Very sweet. I don’t think you will.” She didn’t want to tell him, at least not know, the specifics of her rape. But, she seriously doubts her will do anything that brings it back. Now what, she thinks. How does one begin? She looks up at her husband. He smiles down at her.

“May I kiss you, Mrs. Fraser?”

“Yes please.” They hadn’t at the ceremony. To many, look they just made it, looks. So, they had hurried out, license in hand. He looks down at her lips, licks his own, and lowers them.

She has been kissed. The first time at twelve, as she walked with one of her foster brothers to the store. The last by a man she worked with before all these began. But, never with the care Jamie showed. He treated her like she was made of the most fragile crystal. He didn’t force the deepening of it and they kissed, closed mouthed until she wanted more and touched her tongue to his. He opened with a groan.

Their tongues tangle together as their bodies move closer. His hand skims down her side before finding her bum and pulling her even closer. It is hard with Becca in the middle but she feels his want of her.

“Please.” She breathes against his mouth. In answer, he starts to undress her. She does the same. She unloosens the tie and eases it off. Unbuttons his shirt. He is easing the dress up. It had just slipped over her head so no buttons or un zippers to undo. She eases his shirt off, exposing muscles merely hinted at under his daily business wear. He lifts her dress over her head, dislodging her veil.

It is impossible to find sexy underwear and bra's that fit a seven plus pregnant body so, she put on her fanciest. The bra has a bit of lace on the top. The knickers are a bit fancier then the standard white cotton.

She stands still, arms at her side, and waits his reaction.

“Claire, you are so beautiful, stunning truly.”

“Do you need glasses Mr. Fraser? Can you not see the stretch marks that criss- cross my belly up to my boobs, that are not normally this big and vein filled.”

“I have perfect 20/20 eyesight. Always have. Aye, I see the scars of your battle. They make you the strong woman, the courageous woman, that is ny wife. I see naught but beauty when I see you.” She doesn’t look convinced so he knows he will have to show her.

He just ghosts across her tummy and up, barely touching her skin. He watches the goosebumps chase his fingers. Her eyes darken as her breathing gets labored. Good. His next touch is more deliberate, applying pressure to her skin as he runs over it. When he reaches her breasts, he cups one of them. He lets his thumb come up and touch her over the cloth.

“Aw.” Escapes her lips as her nipple comes up to meet him. He pushes the bra out of the way and and touches her bare skin. “Oh!” She grabs on to his shoulders for support. Very sensitive nips she has. The pregnancy is part of it and he knows he needs to be gentle. Sensitive they may be, but also tender.

He kisses down her chest before reaching the nipple he had been playing with. He licks around it and is rewarded with his wife's ‘ Oh God!’ He cock hardens more. He will have to wait. He will see to her pleasure first. He reaches back and unhooks the bra. He cups one, running his thumb over her nipple while continuing to lick and gently suck the other.

He has lead her to the side of the bed and kneels before her. He pays homage to the part of her that has been driving him crazy for awhile. Her soft cries and her hand, holding him in place, spur him on. She taste so sweet. It is making him slightly mad. He long to taste more.

He knows to be careful, gentle. Not to blow into her, to risk air getting to where Becca lies. He kisses down her belly, over their daughter. The endorphins flowing through her mam's blood stream have her active. He sooths her with Ghaildhig as he kisses down.

She lays back, waiting to see what he will do next. He already has her feeling so good. Better then she ever had. He kisses her thighs before easing her knickers off. Her breathing gets faster. Was he going to?

She smells amazing. Strong of her desire and of the discharge caused by the pregnancy. It doesn’t put him off but draws him in. He runs his tongue over her.

“Oh God Jamie! Please!” she can't vocalize what she is asking for. She doesn’t have to.

“Relax my wife. I've you.” He says before setting off to prove it. He licks and nibbles until she is panting over him. He then sets into sucking.

The pleasure dissolves her. For the space of time it is running through her, she feels above herself, outside her own body. Like her spirit had to leave unable to handle the waves of pleasure that leave her shuddering and gasping, her legs tight on his head. She came back to herself slowly.

She becomes aware that her legs still hold him and loosens them. Aware that her daughter got a shot of the same hormone and is quite active. Aware that her breasts feel way to sensitive to touch. Her own heartbeat, throbbing in her chest. Her breathing, a gasping rhythm like the kind she got while running track in upper school. Lastly, Jamie’s grin from between her legs where he still lay, head against her thigh.

“You.. That was… wow!”

“You are welcome ma'am.”

“Please, come here. Get undressed and come here.” He is quick to obey her. She runs her hands down his body, exploring the muscles that lead down his belly. Her hand shakes a bit as she touches his cock. She closes her eyes as she feels around it and farther, over the silky skin of his testes. Her husband's. Not..

“Are you okay? Again, we need not.” He says even as his cock grows harder under her hands.

“I want you. I want to feel you inside me. Please.”

“Aye. I want you too. So bad.” He lays her on her side and eases himself between her legs. It seems the easiest position in her advanced pregnancy. He eases himself carefully inside. He keeps his eyes on her so he sees when they start to darken again in her pleasure. He moves a bit farther in then out. He keeps up this rhythm until she gasps, tighten her hands on his chest and shoulder.

“Oh Jamie!” she breaths. He has never felt more like a man. He moves a bit faster, to expand her orgasm and find his own. “Yes! Oh please!” Her head falls back and he falls against her neck as her climaxes himself.

“So, that is what it is supposed to be like?” she inquires a bit later when she can breath again.

“Yes, something like that. But, it was more. Due to it being a wedding night maybe.” He knew it was more, at least on his end. But, unsure how she felt, he doesn’t say. There is a bond between them he is loath to mess with.

“Yah. I wouldn’t mind sharing your bed. Can we keep doing this?”

“Oh aye. We can. Rest now mo ghaol. I've you.” She curls against him and does. He lays awake a bit longer, watching her.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty

Table of Content or Part Twenty-Nine

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x OC

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning(s): Language, Drug use, Mentions of abuse, Death

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When your husband presents a week long vacation on a tropical island 3,875 miles away from your everyday civilization, it seems like an absolutely flawless plan.

Until your husband is so incoherent from drug binging the whole week prior to your trip that he can't even get his own bag packed...or hold much of a conversation.

I decided not to go, even though I'd be kinda miserable without him for a whole week, and left him and Robbin to it.

I didn't feel like taking a week to observe even more of Nikki's reckless habits.

My body's comfortably enveloped by warmth and pulsing jets that leave not an inch of tension in my body for the first time in months.

The only sound there is, is the bubbling of the hot tub as Tansy, Sharise, and I, treat ourselves to an entirely empty mansion while Nikki's away.

"This is great." Tansy vocalizes in a sigh, her sky blue eyes closed while her blonde bombshell waves are pinned on top of her head.

"No Vince screaming at the TV at a ball game, no aggravation out of boredom, no arguments..." Sharise exhales from her place in a lounging chair on the pool's deck.

"...No stepping on needles, no smell of booze or vomit. Just peace." I add in the same, relaxed tone.

"Viv!" Tommy blares from the back door.

"Baby!" Vince's voice follows.

"Tans!" Sparkie's next.

"If we ignore them, they'll go away." I mumble, the three of us not making any moves, pretending we can't hear them.

Once we hear their footsteps approaching on the concrete of the pool deck, I let out a groan.

"Why can't they be 3,875 miles away?" I ask myself aloud, picking my head up and looking at them. "What is it?" I ask them, pulling my sunglasses down my nose to look at them.

"Vince is having a party tonight." Tommy tells me excitedly.

"And?" I reply, smartly.

"And we want you guys to come." He tells me, nudging my arm with his boot. "Well, Sharise, you're already gonna be there, so, but Viv, Tansy, you need to come."

"Why on God's green Earth, would I voluntarily submerge myself in to a booze, drug, and sex obsessed enviroment?" I ask them.

"Well, you married Nikki, so it wouldn't be the first time you've done it." Tommy says cautiously and I glare at him.

"When is this party?" I sigh out, not feeling like arguing.

"Tonight." Vince tells us.

Tansy, Sharise, and I exchange looks.

"Fine." I agree.

A party I assumed would only last a night, went on for four days.

By day three, Nikki was waltzing through the door, Jack in hand, and a shit eating smirk as if he were home.

"Vince, why am I answering this?" I rub the bridge of my nose.

"Theologically, speaking, Viv." He slurs, from his spot on the couch. "Dream threesome. Two girls, two guys, a girl and a guy, whatever wets your pussy. Go." He shoots and I raise my brows.

"I don't know." I admit.

"Oh, come on!" He groans out, frustrated. "Forget you're married, Nikki Sixx doesn't exist in this parallel universe, you're not God fearing, you just have a shot to select your dream team threesome. Who're you choosing?"

"David Lee Roth, Joan Jett." I reply honestly.

"Really?" Vince sounds disappointed and I raise a brow.

"Were you expecting me to say you and someone else?" I question, knowing damn well he was.

Sharise raises her brows at Vince, daring him to say something and causing me, Tansy, Tommy, and Razzle to chuckle.

"Nope." He lies, smiling innocently at his pregnant wife.

"What about you, Tansly?" Razzle nudges her with his elbow, mispronouncing her name, as always.

She's corrected him more times than we can count, but she's stopped fixing him the past few weeks.

I think she's fond of the little pet name.

She blows smoke past her red lips, heeled feet on Sparkie's lap, as she thinks for a moment.

"Billy Idol, Lenny Kravits..." She says, her eyes falling on me. "And Viv."

I don't pay any attention to her suggestion because I know she's on a cocktail of coke, heroin and ludes, and I'm suprised she's even awake.

"Jesus, it's a threesome, Tans, not a orgy." Tommy laughs, taken by surprise.

"I have three perfectly good holes and a talented tongue. Go big or go home." She shrugs, putting out her cigarette.

Tansy talked a big game, but she despised group activities in terms of sex.

She would play her part if she was asked to join one, or if Sparkie suggested she put on a good show for his buddies, but she'd have to get stoned out of her mind, borderline comatose, in order to follow through with it.

One thing Nikki did right, even in his worst point on heroin, he always protected Tansy the best he could.

He turned on Sparkie like a rabid dog in the Summer of '87, after Tansy had to get stitches in her vagina because she passed out at a party she was throwing at her beach house, and Sparkie let his sick-fuck friends practically mutilate her by attempting to fit a Jack Daniels bottle into her unconscious body.

The bottle busted in their attempt and sliced her up so badly, some of the glass went through her and missed her left fallpian tube by the thickness of a quarter.

Tansy had us as her emergency contacts, and I was helping Sharise with Skylar when the hospital called our house and Nikki, being the only one home, answered and then came and picked me up.

The doctor explained it, and Nikki and I figured it was a kinky thing Tansy and Sparkie were trying out.

When she woke up after being repaired, she told Nikki the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

I remember coming back from the vending machine to see Nikki slamming Sparkie's head into the wall of the waiting room, screaming that he was going to "fucking kill him", getting in three good punches before I got him off of him.

Sparkie didn't press charges because he knew what he and his friends did to Tansy would have come out.

To her mom, the rest of Mötley Crüe, her friends, and her husband now, it was just a weird thing she tried out for pleasure and it didn't go too well.

I suppose if Sparkie were still alive, and Axl found out the truth of what really happened to his wife's reproductive system that was nearly jeopardized, he would track him down and finish what Nikki started that night.

I'm about to get up and go get some more water just as a familiar voice exclaims, "Honey, I'm home!"

Nikki's standing at the top of the stairs from the foyer, his arms exposed by his t-shirt turned tank top, his legs wrapped in black denim, arms open wide, Jack in his right hand, and his smile gleaming.

He must have had a really, really good trip.

He was surrounded by drugs, booze and topless women the whole time...he had fun.

I've gotten over being mad at him the past few days, and despite enjoying the quiet house, I've missed him.

Tommy's jumping over the couch, like a puppy seeing his owner return after a trip, nearly tackling him, and Nikki and him are both laughing excitedly to be back together to raise hell as the Terror Twins once more.

Once Tommy's had his turn, Nikki's pulling me into him, his arm looping around my neck as he pulls my lips to his.

I eagerly accept, our tongues dancing together.

"Aww." Tommy pipes.

"Get a room!" Vince orders from his place on the couch, over the loud music and chatter of his guests, sounding grossed out.

Nikki pulls away from me after a moment, smirking down at me before peppering my face in kisses, causing me to giggle.

"I've missed you." He tells me once he's done, squeezing me in a tight hug.

I'm kind of shocked he's admitting that, but I hug him equally as tight.

"Okay, cute, but now the real party starts." Vince cuts us up, handing Nikki a bindle of blow and his hazel eyes glitter that look he gets when he knows he's bound for trouble.

I went home that night to shower, recharge, and went back early the next morning to see almost everyone was still up from the night before, including Nikki.

Hanoi Rocks is passed out in the living room floor with half dressed women all over them. Tansy's naked and unconscious on the kitchen counter with Tommy, covered up with Tommy's jacket and a blanket Sharise drapped over her legs.

Sparkie's still up with Nikki and Vince, and Mick is asleep and minding his own business in one of the guest bedrooms.

I'm stepping over strangers that are littered on the floor, and sitting next to Nikki on his spot of the couch, closing my eyes and leaning my head against his bicep as he and Vince talk about the upcoming album.

He doesn't skip a beat as he goes on about the concept he wants for the cover, lifting the arm I'm resting on to wrap it around me, and lean back, allowing me to lay on his chest.

I curl my legs close to me to lay down on the couch and take up his silent offer, wrapping my arm around his abdomen, and drifting off.

Nikki was very affectionate and sweet when he wanted to be back then.

I wake up around the same time everyone else does, 8:00 at night.

Vince showers and changes clothes while me and Sharise clean up around people because the house is a wreck.

By the time we're done, Nikki's waking up from where he was passed out on the couch with me, and rubbing his eyes.

Mick's even joined the party, too, and I also notice that Tom Zutaut is here as well.

"Draw four." Tansy tells Razzle as she's criss-cross-applesauce at my feet as she and him are using the coffee table to play Uno.

"Wait a minute, I don't wanna draw four." Razzle argues with her.

"Razz, you gotta. It's how you play the game." She explains and he scoffs.

"You ain't gotta tell me how to play the game, I know very well how to play Uno. It's Uno. Uno means 'one'. Why fuck would I draw four when the game is called 'one'?" He asks her, his accent adding humor to his slightly booze induced argument.

"The game's called 'Uno' because whoever has only one card left, is closest to winning." Mike explains, brushing his fluffy blonde hair from his face.

"That's a bit stupid, isn't it?" Razzle replies. "Life's like one big fucking game of Uno. You're dealt more than what you were under the impression of getting when you signed up to bloody play to begin with."

He draws his four cards as Tansy and I try not to laugh.

"It's a game, Razz." I chuckle out, glancing to my right to see Nikki strategically lining coke up in the shape of a cross.

He glances at me to gauge my reaction and I raise an unamused brow as he just throws a wink at me before snorting it.

Mick sits down next to Nikki and I, sighing out in pain.

"God damn." He mumbles and Tommy and I exchange looks.

"You okay there, Mick?" Tommy asks him.

"Yeah. My back hurts from carrying this tour." Mick replies smartly, causing all of us to laugh.

Once Nikki's snorted his blow, he takes the paper he rolled into a straw and licks the remains of white powder off it.

I pretend not to notice his desperate attempt to get every bit of it in his system.

"Mick." Nikki says, nudging Mick, motioning to Vince who's getting friendly with a pretty blonde girl, obviously with ulterior motives in mind. "Hey, are you in the band?" Nikki mimics what he assumes the girl is saying to Vince.

"What do you fuckin' think?" Mick replies mimicking Vince and once again, we're all cackling.

Sharise is now standing next to Vince as he introduces her to the other woman.

"Have you met my wife Sharise? Do you wanna have a threesome?" Tom jokes next, mocking Vince's voice like Mick did but goofier sounding and it's like someone cut the track on a record.

Even Tansy turns around to shoot daggers at him along with Nikki and I.

"Tom, what the fuck is wrong with you man?" Nikki asks sternly, taking him off guard. "She's fucking pregnant, man." He motions to her. "That's fucked up."

It's obvious Tom feels guilty for saying it, but Nikki's suddenly laughing and hitting him in the shoulder. "No, I'm just fucking with you, man. I'm just fucking with you." Nikki assures him and Tom lets out a sound of relief and laughs. "But don't be a fucking dick." He sternly says again, serious this time, pointing at him. "Look at her, she's fucking pregnant, man."

"Don't be a dick, Zutaut." Mick advises, crossing his hands over his chest and laying down.

"Alright, sorry." Tom mumbles as Nikki picks his bottle of Jack back up.

"I win!" I hear Razzle yell, his arms raised in victory, cigarette hanging from his lips. "Choke on that you fuckin'..." he trails off, trying to think of an insult to jokingly throw at Tansy and she just blinks at him, waiting to hear it. "...I can't think of anything because you're perfect and I don't want to plant any bad seeds in your mind so I'll just except the money you owe me and we'll leave it at that." He decides aloud and Tansy reaches for her purse and pulls out fifty dollars.

"A dollar for the number of rounds it's taken you to finally beat me." She hands it to him.

They've been playing Uno ever since he arrived the first night of this party, four days ago.

He's worked hard for this single win.

I would've appreciated his wide, proud smile as he tucked the cash into his pocket, if I had known it would have been the last time I ever got to see it.

"Tans, can you grab something from my trunk?" Nikki asks about an hour later, digging in his pocket for his keys and she nods.

"Can I drive your car?" She raises her brows, smiling innocently.

"With what license?" He counters.

"Touché." She replies taking the keys from him, and he mumbles in her ear what he needs and she nods, stepping out.

Razzle and Tommy flip through Tansy's Miss December issue, each of them holding it open, discussing the girls like food critics pointing out good and bad elements of a dish.

"Is it just me, or does Tansly have a birthmark shaped like a saxophone on her bum?" Razzle points at something, I assume Tansy's ass.

"She does." Me, Tommy, Vince, Nikki and Sparkie, all reply at the same time and look at each other, before they look at me.

"How do you know that?" Vince asks, suggestively, and I cross my arms.

"We see each other naked all the time." I explain, plucking the magazine from Tommy and Razzle. "Not to mention her ass is plastered in almost every issue."

Tansy's coming back with Nikki's keys in no time, handing them off to him, before handing him a brown paper bag I know has gear in it.

"Viv, can you go get me some food?" Sharise asks me politely and I ignore Nikki dismissing himself to the bathroom, Tansy following, as I look up at her. "I'm having a craving." She adds and I nod.

"What do I need to get you?"

I'll be honest, when she gave me specific instructions to go to Dairy Queen, get chilli cheese fries and a swirl of vanilla icecream on top of them, I was judging.

But when I was knocked up...I was eating fried mozarella sticks with peanut butter, hot wings with watermelon, mustard with club crackers, and white peas with mayonaise.

"Ew..." I mumble, coming down the road, the smell of chilli and vanilla not mixing well as the odor continues to stain Nikki's corvette.

I look down at the cupholder to grab my Pepsi, and I look back up, about to meet the back of a car that's stopped dead in the tracks of a car pile up.

"Fuck!" I say harshly, my feet hounding the break, the tires squealing to a hault last minute, missing the car in front of me by inches.

I take a few deep breaths, hearing ambulance sirens blaring past me.

My hand opens the door, my brows furrowed slightly.

Traffic is now stopped on both sides, and I shut the door, looking towards the accident up the road.

Others are getting out of their cars, checking on each other, I don't think anyone is this particular pile up is badly injured.

"What's the matter?!" A man a few cars behind shouts out.

A woman about ten cars ahead turns to look in my direction, able to see the problem better in the night.

"Car wreck!" She replies and I let out a breath, relieved I know it's not Nikki.

Tears come to my eyes.

"Oh, God, be with them, please." I mumble, wiping my eyes.

"Some hot shot in a sports car!" Another man ahead of me pipes.

A heavy feeling that weighs my soul down invades my body.

"W-What kind of car is it?!" I ask him over the sound of more people getting out of their cars and talking.

"...Uh, Pantera, I think!" The second the words leave his mouth, something in me tells me to run.

My heels are lost to the pavement as I take off as fast as my bear feet and legs will take me, turning the bend to see Vince's red Pantera, completely crumpled on the passenger side, while the other car involved in the collision is in startling shape as well.

I see Vince sitting on the curb, cut up, blood smattering his hands and clothes.

His blonde hair is covering his face as he shakes, his arms wrapped around his ankles...rocking back and forth, a cry of the deepest fear evading him.

I'm skidding to my knees when I get to him, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through my skin at the action.

"Vince, are you okay?" I ask him frantically, making him look up at me.

He looks so disoriented.

I smell alcohol on him without even trying to.

"I—I...Razzle and I—"

"—Razzle? Razzle was with you?" I try to stay calm, seeing police pulling up to join the ambulances and firetrucks.

"It came outta nowhere...I..." He trails off.

"Vince, where's Razzle?" I ask, starting to panic.

No answer.

"Where's Razzle, Vince?" I repeat, tears filling my eyes.

"He fell asleep, they got him out." He tells me, nearly incoherently, and I look around frantically to see if Razzle is anywhere to be seen.

I only see one of his high-top Chuck Taylor's sitting in the middle of the glass and blood painted pavement.

"Viv?!" Tommy's voice is panicked, probably thinking I was apart of the accident.

I turn to see him, Sharise, the party guests...

Vince's house is just up the road, they probably heard the commotion.

The guests are gawking at the accident with the people caught in the stopped traffic, while Sharise and Tommy are coming towards us.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna ask you to get away from the suspect." A police officer is saying, pulling me up and I furrow my brows.

"Suspect of what?" I demand sharply, seeing another officer approach Vince with a breathalizer.

"Possibly three murders. Depending on how good the doctors are." He replies blatantly and my heart sinks to my stomach.

I allow him to lead me away, seeing Vince being pushed into the back of a police car while the doors of the ambulances are shut, Razzle in one of them.

I turn to look forward, my eyes catching on Michael, Andy, Nasty, and Sami, now moved to the front of the crowd, the various shades of red, blue and white lights reflecting in their glassy eyes.

Nicholas "Razzle" Dingley was declared dead after nearly three hours in surgery, with surgeons that tried everything they could.

Waiting in complete silence with Tommy, Sharise, and four members of a band who were waiting to hear their drummer would be okay, only for a doctor to come out covered in blood, speaking the words, "your buddy Razzle didn't make it," completely broke something in me, that still has yet to be repaired, and probably won't ever be until I see him again.

I held it together as long as I could while Tommy, Sharise, and the remaining members of Hanoi Rocks went through a roller coaster of emotions before I decided I needed to make a getaway.

"Where you going?" Tommy asks me, sniffling as I stand up, grabbing my purse and my jacket.

"Getting Nikki and Tansy." I tell him.

"Well...they were passed out when we all left." He tells me and I let out a breath.

"I'll go check on them." I mumble.

It's obvious to him that I'm avoiding being here, and he gently grasps my hand.

"Viv, it's gonna be alright." He assures me even though it sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

I want to say: "Hanoi Rocks and Mötley Crüe are done with. Razzle's dead. Vince will get sent to prison. Everything Michael, Andy, Nasty, Sami, Razzle, Nikki, Mick, Vince, and you have worked your asses off for, is gone. It's not alright, and it won't be for a long, long time."

But I just give him my best smile and nod, and head for the car.

I got back to Vince's, taking Sharise with me. She was terrified. There she was, pregnant, promised the world by the man she loved and trusted...and he fucked it up and screwed her over.

"Sharise, I know it's a lot, but you gotta calm down." I tell her softly as we park in the driveway.

She's been sobbing ever since the doctor announced Razzle's death.

"I don't know what he expects me to do with this!" She outbursts, her eyes screwed shut as what's left of her makeup runs down her puffy, tear soaked face. "I don't know what to do, Vivian, I don't know what to...oh, God..." Another sob rocks through her as her hand is grasping mine as tight as it can, her knuckles turning white.

I love Vince. I love Tommy. I love Nikki. But they were pros at dealing their significant others fucked up cards, leaving us to pick up the pieces, accept the consequences of their actions—because they sure as fuck never accepted consequences for themselves—and repair whatever it was that they broke.

I go inside to find Nikki and Tansy, stumbling upon them in a guest bedroom, needles scattered, coke and heroin among them, and they're knocked out.

They don't know what they're going to wake up to.

I leave them in whatever high bliss they have left to escape to before reality hits them like a train.

Sharise insists on being alone to "think a lot of shit through."

I just need a fucking place to fall apart.

I could go home, but I don't like being by myself, especially not like this.

Robbin's probably in the same blacked out state as Nikki and Tansy...

But I know who isn't.

Looking back, this is probably the seed that grew it all.

The second the cheaply painted door swings open to reveal a half-awake Duff, in nothing but boxers, rubbing at his sleep filled eyes.

"V-Viv?" He asks, confused. "What're you doing here?"

Tears topple from my eyes and he seems to wake up quickly.

"Viv, what's wrong?"

It hits me at once.

A wave of grief.

My aunt, my two babies, Razzle, Hanoi Rocks, and Mötley Crüe's future...all dead.

A cry cracks past my lips as pain radiates through my chest, causing the muscles to tense and tighten, constricting against my heart as if attempting to protect it.

The sheer weight of all of it—such incredible people losing their bandmate, Vince sitting in a cell knowing he has one of his friend's blood on his hands, the fact that Nikki will wake up eventually and find the dream he had for his band is in shambles, the thought of Razzle's family and friend's getting the phone call that the only way he's coming back home is to be laid to rest—brings me to my knees.

Arms are wrapping around me before I can fall, guiding me into the apartment lit by a dim lamp in the corner, before the door shuts and we're both brought to the floor.

My head aches as more despair is vented out in tears and near shrieks, muffled by the bare skin of his chest.

He doesn't ask anymore questions, he just holds me tightly to him, rocking soothingly, his long legs splayed on either side of me as he keeps mumbling, "I'm sorry."

It doesn't take long before I'm hearing his voice crack thickly, holding back his own tears.

It was the first heart break of many in which my own husband was too fucked up to even know what was going on, or too pissed off at me to give a fuck, leaving Duff to step up and be what Nikki couldn't.