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crimson-calligraphyx · 20 days

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon @xxkittenkissesxx

A subtle breeze coasts down my exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I whine, tightening my grasp and burrowing my face further against Noah in search of warmth, only to come to the realization it wasn't him I was clutching to me. I cracked open an eye, my pregnancy pillow coming into view instead of the sight of my slumbering husband.

I furrowed my brows in perplexity; I know I had fallen asleep in Noah's arms.

With a groan, I rolled as far onto my back as I could, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before pushing myself out of bed—which was getting progressively more and more difficult as the days went by. "Noah?" I called, trudging out of our bedroom with a hand on my back. "God, it's fucking freezing," I grumbled to myself, a chill running down the length of my body the further I walked down the hall. The air conditioning was on full blast as usual, thanks to Noah.

I call his name once again, but there was still no definitive response, other than a muffled 'fuck'.

There wasn't any music playing or the faint smell of toast cascading through our home, so he wasn't in the kitchen or studio. The only other option was the nursery.

I waddled my way towards what used to be our spare bedroom, peeking through the door left ajar. I grinned to myself when I saw him hunched over a piece of paper, tiny screws laid out in front of him in neat piles. I pushed the door open gently and leaned against the doorframe, giving it a light tap to announce my entry.

"Hey you," I greet him. "Whatcha up to?" "Building the crib," he replies, clipped. I scrunched up my face at his curtness, shaking my head lightly. "I see... Been here long? I didn't even feel you get out of bed." "Couple hours. Didn't want to wake you."

I stand up straight, pulling my brows together with a small frown. I was not appreciating his tone.

I take a gander around the room, seeing he had put together the white bookshelf my mom had gifted us and the nightstand we got from Ikea. I loved seeing that things were coming together, bringing me a sense of security and joy, but I could still feel the rigidness permeating from him.

"Everything okay? You seem a little tense," I ask. He sighs harshly. "Yes, I'm fine. There's a few pieces missing, so I'm a little annoyed with that." I shuffle on my feet. "Well, we could take a break. Make some breakfast. Plus, we still need to paint the walls, so we can figure out the missing pieces afterwards—" "We?" He scoffs. "I'm the one putting all this shit together."

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I snap my mouth shut; I'm left blinking as I register the words he just said.

I ball my hands into fists as I feel anger simmering in my veins. "It's a little more difficult for me to sit on the floor and put things together, Noah." "Then maybe we should've done this sooner before it got too difficult for you," he mumbles with a roll of his shoulders. "Excuse me?" My jaw drops and my hand flies to my chest, absolutely appalled. I give him a chance to explain himself, but we're left in a tense silence as I watch him continue to fidget with a piece of the crib. "You know what? Go fuck yourself. I can't believe you just said that!" I take hold of the door knob, pulling the door towards me as I begin to make my exit. "Sorry for being eight months pregnant," I snap, then slam the door behind me.

Tears are burning my eyes as I stomp to the kitchen. From there, I don't waste a second and pull out the griddle, aggressively putting it on the counter and plugging it in to heat up. It might be hard for me to build a crib and paint the walls, but it certainly wasn't hard for me to cook breakfast for the both of us. Even if I was pissed off to no end.

After throwing several strips of bacon on the griddle, I made my way around the kitchen and grabbed everything that I needed to make pancakes with haste. I whipped together the batter as the bacon cooked, never minding the fact that Noah was now standing by the island, watching me.

"Olivia," he says my name gently, closing the distance between us. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." "I'm cooking." I shoulder him away when he places an arm around my shoulders. I see him stiffen in my peripheral, letting his arm drop to his side. "Would you like some help?" "Nope."

We're back to a rigid silence, nothing but a quiet sizzle filling the room as I poured batter onto the griddle in perfect circles. Noah is hovering behind me, and it doesn't help alleviate the tension. Instead, I realize it was making it worse as I fisted the spatula with such aggression, my knuckles turned white. My hand even trembled a little bit while I watched the pancakes start to rise, speckled with tiny bubbles.

"You're gonna burn them—" I grit my teeth. "I know," I grumbled, flipping them harshly one by one. I knew they would burn if I let them cook any longer, he didn't need to tell me. He sighs, sidling up behind me and placing a hand on my waist. "I'm just trying to help, love—" "You can help by parking your ass at the table and leaving me be." I feel him flinch and slowly retract his hand before he returns to the island, where I hear him take a seat on one of the stools.

Minutes pass; I take the pancakes off the heat and split them between two plates. I had already laid the strips of bacon on paper towels to soak up the excess grease before serving Noah the chewier pieces, and me the crispier.

I may be done cooking breakfast, but I was certainly still stewing in aggravation as I grabbed the bottle of syrup and slide his plate in front of him. I glance at the sullen look on his face before I turned and retrieved my own plate, sitting across from him. He thanks me in a quiet voice, but he doesn't so much as move a muscle while I dig into my breakfast.

"Olivia, I'm sorry," he tries again. "I was just frustrated, I shouldn't have taken it out on you and said that." I picked up a piece of bacon, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, you shouldn't have." I shrug and take a bite of the bacon, savoring the hint of applewood as I chewed, and he sighs. "You gonna eat?" "I'm not all that hungry."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head lightly in annoyance, finishing the strip of bacon in hand before picking up my fork and digging into one of the pancakes.

"You know, that's how I felt when I spent hours putting those things together, just for you to come in and tell me we still had to paint the walls, Liv." "Seriously, Noah?" In an instant, the anger flared up again and I finally brought my eyes to him, shooting daggers in his direction. I slammed my fork on the table, his untouched silverware rattling from the aggression. "Why are you being such a dick?" He pressed his lips into a line as he leered at me, his eyes bouncing between mine while the tension between us was once again pulled taut. "Forget it," I grumbled, standing abruptly from my seat.

I picked up my plate and brought it to the sink, practically tossing it onto the counter, and turned to make my way back to the bedroom. I brushed past Noah with tears in my eyes and he calls my name, but I ignore him and continue down the hall. My throat burned as I tried not to cry.

It was like a flip of a switch with him, and I didn't understand it. Yesterday he was so kind, gentle, and helpful during the entire shower. He helped set up the event, helped me open gifts, cut and served the cake and other food, put everything away—hell, he barely let me lift a finger. But this morning? He made me feel like absolute garbage for not being able to do these things. I can't lift more than 10 pounds, I can't sit on the floor for very long and put together furniture, I can't paint the walls by myself.

I took a seat on the edge of the bed, my cheeks burning hot as tears rolled down them. Noah comes in shortly after and crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his with a gentle squeeze. He says my name quietly and I bring my eyes up to his face, which screamed nothing but remorse with a definitive crease between his brows and a heavy frown.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Please don't cry." "Why are you so... flippant this morning?" I mumbled, struggling to find the right word. My lips quiver and he lets go of one of my hands to cup my cheek, his thumb swiping the trail of tears dry. "I don't mean to be," he sighs, shaking his head. "I'm just stressed." "So, you take it out on me instead of talking to me about it? Yesterday you were fine, and now... this," I motioned between us. "Did something happen?" "No, not exactly..." he trails off. I shake my head, not understanding. "Then what?"

He remains silent, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his bottom lip before biting it lightly, most likely mulling over his words before he cradles the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead.

"I didn't want to upset you by telling you I was nervous about having the baby." He's kneading his fingers in the back of my head as he says this, his eyes heavy with concern, begging for forgiveness. "And don't think that means I'm not excited to have him, I'm just... I'm in my head, you know? It's a lot and I'm worried that... that I'm not ready or that I won't be a good dad." I felt my heart sink hearing his words, my whole jaw trembling trying to hold my emotions back. "W-why didn't you say anything before, Noah?" I sobbed, shaking my head as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Because it didn't hit me until yesterday," he tells me, squeezing my hand. "Seeing all the gifts, seeing how excited everyone was for his arrival, knowing you're nearly 9 months pregnant. It hit me all at once. We have so many things to put away, so many things to do for the nursery; it freaked me out." I lock eyes with him, his chocolate irises glistening with sincerity. "And you know how I get when I have a task on hand—I don't stop until it's finished. Til everything is perfect. I just want everything to be perfect for you and him." He cups my face with both hands, once again trying to dry my tears with his thumbs. "Okay? I'm sorry for being an ass, from the bottom of my heart."

I nod shallowly in his hands, and he brandishes a soft smile before pressing his lips to mine delicately. I let out a single cry against his mouth and cling onto his shirt, melting into him shortly after, and we stayed like this until neither of us could breathe.

Though him saying he wanted everything to be perfect was reassuring, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit worried about what comes after childbirth. The irritability from lack of sleep, and the arguments that would ensue from it. The disagreements, the crying, the screaming. Things won't be perfect, and that's what scares me—what if he gets sick and tired of trying to make things 'perfect' and leaves?

"Come on," he breaks through my thoughts. "Let's finish breakfast, cuz I know you're hungry," he chuckles, and I huff a quiet laugh. "Then we can set up the room to start painting the walls. How's that sound?" "But what about the things you already put together?" "I'll move everything to the center and put a tarp over it. We have to put one down over the rug, anyways."

I nod with a quiet 'okay' and he gives me another reassuring kiss before standing, pulling me to my feet. He takes my hand in his, bringing me back to the kitchen where we finished our now cold breakfast before he left to set up the nursery for painting.

In the meantime, I cleaned up the kitchen and changed into clothes that I didn't necessarily care if they got ruined or not. I threw my hair up into a messy bun and made my way into the baby's room, seeing Noah had finished the task of tarping everything and covering the trim in painter's tape. He was now beginning to pour paint into the pans.

"Ready to get painting?" he asks after putting the lid back on the can. He stands, picking up one of the rollers and attaching it to an extension pole before handing it to me. "I figure it would be easier for you, not having to bend or reach as much. I'll get the nooks and crannies when we get there," he winks, holding up a wide, angled brush. "Thanks," I chuckle. "Let's get this party started," I say, glancing around the area to survey where to begin. I dip the roller into the pan, coating it in the sky blue color we picked out, and started with the wall opposite of the door.

The idea of painting was a lot easier said than done. It wasn't all that bad at first, just a little burn in my arms from extending them time and time again, but after a while, my back started to ache quite a bit. I was breaking a sweat, and was even a little winded, but still, I pushed on through it, knowing this had to get done—I couldn't let Noah do it all himself, considering our little tiff from earlier.

We had just started the third wall when I couldn't handle the back pain anymore, which was beginning to spread to my abdomen. I set the roller down gently and excused myself, making my way to our bedroom where I lay down, hoping to alleviate some of the ache. It doesn't take long for Noah to follow me in, a look of concern spread on his face as he closes the gap between us.

"You okay, love?" he asks, brushing my bangs back to press a kiss to my forehead. "Yeah," I let out an exasperated sigh, my face scrunching from the uncomfortability. "My back hurts. I just need to rest for a minute and I'll be back to help finish painting." He frowns. "I'll finish it up, I don't want you over-doing anything. Sit tight, I'll grab you some water, okay?" "But—" "I mean it." He shoots me a pointed look before exiting our bedroom.

I huff with defeat, settling against the pillows with an arm draped over my face, my other hand cradling my belly where the twinge of pain remained. My muscles tighten briefly, and I let out a quiet groan just as Noah reenters the room. I move my arm away from my face and take the glass of water he offered, thanking him before taking a few tiny sips and putting it down on the nightstand.

"You doing okay?" "Yeah," I nod lazily. "It's going away. I just needed to rest for a minute," I reassure him. He pulls his lips to the side, a look of doubt strewn across his face as he places his hand on my bump, rubbing slow circles against it. "Alright, if you say so. I don't want you painting anymore though, okay?" "Noah, please, I'm fi—" My face contorts and I let out a hiss. "It's just a cramp," I tell him through gritted teeth. "Liv," he says my name warily. "You don't think you're going into labor, do you?"

My heart jumps into my throat, my eyes flashing to Noah's as panic starts to creep in. I can't be going into labor; I still had 5 weeks left to go.

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #quandary #fantasy #romance #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction

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crimson-calligraphyx · 4 months

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier

A/N: There's slight insinuation of body dysmorphia at the beginning of the chapter, but please please please keep in mind that there is nothing wrong with her body or anyone else's!

I have never in my life had body image issues. I wasn't big nor was I slim, maybe a little under the average height for a woman my age, but I was always content.

However, stepping out of the shower this morning and seeing the reflection of a body that I was beginning to hardly recognize, started to make me think otherwise. I know that pregnancy was supposed to be an endearing, beautiful journey, but I felt anything but beautiful.

I looked washed out; my eyes were dark and lackluster from the newly acquired bags of exhaustion underneath them. My breasts were swelling, and with how fair-skinned I was, the veins became more prominent in my chest—it was anything but flattering.

And my belly? Though the bump was cute, I could no longer button my jeans, and it only threw me into a fit of hysterics when Noah presented me the waist expander he had bought weeks prior for just such an occasion. I felt ridiculous for my behavior after he consoled me; his intentions were pure, and he only wanted to make things easier for me.

I tried my best to see through these flaws, but as I ran a hand down my stomach and felt the small indentations under my fingertips, I could feel myself deflate. Stretch marks already? Tears sprung to my eyes as shame washed over me, and I quickly slipped on my bathrobe to hide my reflection.

I was only halfway through my pregnancy; if I already felt this way, I couldn't imagine how much worse I'd feel about myself the further along I went. And that terrified me with the way I had coped for so long.

Sniffling, I exited the bathroom, beelining to my bureau to dress myself as fast as possible. But with each article of clothing I pulled out, I felt more and more depreciated—none of my jeans fit properly anymore, and most of my shirts were becoming too tight. All I had were leggings and hoodies.

Soon enough, tears were rolling down my face and my throat was burning, trying to hold back the cry I wanted to let out. I didn't want to bring attention to myself and worry Noah.

Too late.

Strong arms snaked around my waist and heat radiated against my back as Noah sidled up behind me. "What's wrong, love?" he asks, his voice calm, and he rests his chin on my shoulder. I hastily palm the tears away, shaking my head lightly. "Nothing," I mumble. "Mmm," he ponders. I know he doesn't buy it for a second. "Something tells me otherwise." I shake my head once more, "Really, it's nothing, Noah. I-I'm fine."

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he directed my body towards him and took my face in his hands gently. His eyebrows are raised and cinched together as his chocolate eyes gaze down at me, filled with concern. My heart clenches, and my cheeks are damp once again.

"But you're crying." His lips tug downward ever-so-slightly as he brushes my tears away with his thumbs. "Talk to me." I swallowed the lump that was beginning to grow in my throat. "I just... I don't..." I trailed off to suck in a choppy breath. "I don't like the way my body is changing, and it's only gonna get wo-orse," I say with a tight throat, a sob finally making its way out of me. My eyes wrench shut, tears streaming as he hushes me.

He presses his lips to my forehead, then moves to each cheek before cradling my head against his bare chest. "Nonsense," he tells me, rubbing circles on my back. "No such thing as worse when you're already perfect the way you are." "I'm not though," I cry against his chest. "I'm getting fat; my clothes don't fit anymore, I'm starting to get stretch marks, my boobs are too big and—" "Olivia, stop," he cuts me off, tipping my head towards him by my chin. "This is what's supposed to happen. Your body is adjusting to the life that's growing inside of you." "I-I'm supposed to get fat?" I whimper, my lips trembling. He sighs, "No, that's not what I meant. Come with me."

I was reluctant to follow him, but he guided me over to our full-length mirror that was parallel to our bed. He positions me so that I'm staring back at the both of us, him behind me with his hands on my shoulders. "May I show you just how beautiful you are?" he asks, locking eyes with me through the mirror. I shake my head for the umpteenth time. "I'm not, though—" "Olivia," he calls my name sternly, and I snap my mouth shut. "Let's start from the top. You see this luscious hair?"

I watch my hair cascade behind me as he removes the claw clip, and he runs his fingers through the length, draping it over my shoulders. "These deep and mesmerizing blue eyes that I can't live a day without gazing into?" He runs a knuckle underneath each eye, drying the remaining tears, then kisses the back of my head. He trails his hands delicately down my still-robed arms, one settling on my hip as the other takes hold of the tie around my waist. "May I?"

His eyes never left mine as he waited for my reply, and a hint of security begins to paint over me, though my heart was still hammering against my chest. I nod, and a smile grazes his lips—I shut my eyes again, so I don't have to look at myself.

I expected him to slip the whole robe off, but he must’ve let go of the tie and instead pulled the top of the robe down to my shoulder blades. I then feel his fingers glide against my collarbone, gathering my hair and draping it over my right shoulder; cool air skirts past my now exposed skin. His lips brush against my neck shortly after, peppering kisses down the nape and across my shoulder, causing a tingle to roll down my spine.

"Open your eyes," he whispers, his warm breath ghosting across my skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. "I need you to see what I see." Hesitantly, I oblige, and my eyes find his once more in the mirror. "I'm going to untie your robe now, okay, love?" I take a deep breath and continue to hold his gaze. He was so patient, so calculated, and my heart rate starts to descend as a comforting buzz envelopes me from the compassion in his eyes. I give him a barely audible 'okay', and he presses another firm kiss to my shoulder before tugging on the tie.

My robe floats open, and I immediately avert my eyes to the floor. "Don't look away," he says quietly, dragging the bathrobe away from my nude body and letting it cascade to the floor. His large hands are warm against my sides as he follows the curves of my body, coasting over the swell of my stomach before delicately cupping my breasts. I brave a glance at the mirror, and my heart flutters seeing the sincere smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with adoration and lust.

"Everything about you is so beautiful, Olivia." His thumbs rub gentle circles against my chest as he glances down at what he holds in his hands. "This is what I meant by 'it's supposed to happen'. These aren't too big—you're just producing what you need for this little one," he chuckles, sliding one of his hands over my belly. "You understand that, right?" "Y-yeah," I muster to say. "But I'm gaining weight and getting wider, too, Noah," I huffed. He quirks an eyebrow, both hands now resting low on my hips. "Are you talking about your curves?" He gives my love handles a little squeeze, and I frown. "This is just where my hands are supposed to go—I mean, look at how perfectly your body molds against me, Liv. It's like your body is tailored to fit my hands."

His lips pull into a toothy smirk, and he flashes me a wink. I breathed out a tiny giggle as he leans down to give me a kiss on the cheek. “And there’s the greatest thing of all,” he starts as he locks eyes with me once more in the mirror. “That radiant smile.” A bashful chuckle escapes me and I covered my face with a hand, though my smile widens at his words.

One of his hands moved to my belly, his fingers curling into his palm and out again. I know he feels the indentations in my skin, and as much as I hated them, he didn’t seem to mind them one bit. The soft smile remained on his face, his eyes hooded with affection as he watched the way his fingertips trail against my skin.

His fingers glide under my bump, running from one hipbone to the next, and there's a flutter in my stomach that I know wasn't the baby wriggling. His lips are on my shoulder again, and he lays kisses every few seconds as he makes his way up the side of my neck, reaching behind my ear. My eyes drift shut, and I hum when his breath tickles the shell of my ear, his hands still roaming over my body.

My body relaxes against his, relishing the warmth encasing me as he holds me close to him. He cups my breast, grazing his thumb across my nipple, and I feel him harden when a quiet moan slips from me. "Do you believe me when I say that you're beautiful?" He chuckles knowingly; his lips are still on me and pull into a smirk. "Yes," I breathed out. "Good," he says lowly. "Because you truly are."

I'm simmering with arousal, my head falling back against his chest when his other hand inches down towards my mound. My heart pounds and my breathing quickened with anticipation.

I gasp lightly when his fingers slide between my thighs, dipping into my heat and spreading slick to my clit. He lazily circles around it, coercing another moan from me as I instinctively reach back and cling onto his hair, holding myself up. His fingers glide against me, my legs spreading further apart for him, and he groans softly when I dig my nails further into his scalp.

I let out a mewl when his mouth found my neck again, his tongue lashing out before biting down against my flushed skin. He ruts his hips into me with a low growl, his erection pressing into my backside. I clenched around nothing, simply from the thought of his cock filling me after feeling it against me.

I reach behind me and blindly search for the waistband of his sweats, eventually slipping my hand down his pants. I feel the smoothness of his cock beneath my fingertips, inching lower until I’m able to fist him. He lets out a shaky breath when I give him a firm squeeze, and I can’t help the smirk from growing on my face.

“Fuck,” he sighs, his hips bucking forward while I slowly glide my hand up and down his length. “You see what you do to me?” I grasped him a little tighter. "No, I feel it," I answer slyly, his dick twitching in my hand. He curses under his breath again and spins me around, his large hand cupping my face and his mouth crashing on mine shortly after.

I'm taken off guard from how quick his actions were, a combination of a yelp and a giggle escaping me as I cling onto him. His other hand is planted on my hip, keeping me close to him, and he begins to walk me backwards until the back of my knees hit the bed. I stumbled and brought Noah down with me—he somehow manages to keep most of his weight off me when we hit the mattress, holding himself up with his forearms caged around my head.

My lips parted with a soft gasp at the impact, his tongue immediately slipping into my mouth. One of my hands is in his hair, the other scratching down his back as our tongues meet, fighting with hunger and passion. His breath is hot in my mouth when he groans, rutting his hips forward, his cock pressing against my core—which was nothing more than a tease with it still being confined behind his sweats.

I slide my hand further down his back and grabe onto his waistband, trying to push down his sweats. I grumbled in aggravation when I was only able to get it halfway down his ass, and he snickers, breaking away from our kiss to assist in taking them off. “Eager, are we?” He muses as he stands to shimmy off his sweats.

Sitting up on my elbows, I bite down on my bottom lip as I soaked in the view before me: lustful, charcoal eyes blanketed by a mess of dark hair, his lips swollen and curled into a sly smirk. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, inked skin toned in all the right places with the artwork shifting as he works his hand up and down his shaft slowly.

He chuckles while I stare at him unapologetically, clambering back onto the mattress and settling between my legs. He follows me as I lie back down, kissing me gently, one of my legs settling over his side. I feel him align with my entrance, pressing only the tip in, and I gasp quietly with anticipation.

He brings a hand to my face, lightly brushing my cheek with his thumb as his eyes soften while he peers down at me. "I don't want you to question your beauty again, Olivia," he all but whispers to me. "Ever," he enunciated with a roll of his hips, gradually sliding into me.

My heart swells at his words and I moan out in pleasure as he stretches me out, but I'm filled with so many emotions from his tenderness that tears spring to my eyes. There's hesitancy and worry on his face; he's at a standstill, and I think he thinks he hurt me by the way his eyes roam over me. I blink my tears away with a bashful giggle and apologize, running a hand through his hair with a gentle scratch, hoping to reassure him.

I shift underneath him with a roll of my hips, meeting him as he began to drive into me leisurely. He captures my lips with his once more as my eyes flutter shut with a soft sigh. His tongue slips into my mouth, his actions more sensual than before as our tongues moved slowly, taking our time to taste one another; I relished how he felt, how perfectly attuned our bodies were as we synced together.

"Noah," I say his name quietly, breaking our kiss. "Harder. Please," I nearly begged, pressing my heel into the small of his back. "Only because you said please." He lets out a breathy laugh, a smug look plastered on his face shortly after. I flexed my walls around him briefly, eliciting a low groan from him, and it's not long before he's thrusting into me passionately. His head is now shoved into the crook of my neck, his breath hot on my skin as he pants, sending another shiver to my core.

"I want to hear those pretty moans, Liv," he mutters when a quiet whimper slips from me. His lips meet my neck, laying a soft kiss before he flicks his tongue against my skin. His teeth scrape against my pulse point, biting down on it soon after, and I can feel the growl he lets out vibrate down my throat.

The hand I have in his hair tightens around his locks, my other arm wrapped behind his back, clinging onto his shoulder blade while he continues to pound into me, and sure enough those 'pretty moans' he wanted to hear are flowing from my mouth. His cock is hitting me in the perfect spot, filling me in all the right ways, and I can feel myself begin to float as my climax builds.

My back arches, and if my fingers could dig into his skin any further, I'm sure that they did. But with the way my body was now positioned, the swell of my belly became an inconvenience in the heat of the moment. Noah pulls away from me and sits up on his knees, causing me to whine and shoot him a glare from being denied my release.

"Sorry, love," he chuckles as he takes hold of my sides and rolls onto his back. He guides me so that I'm straddling him. "Gonna have to do different positions, cuz this little one is starting to get in the way." He winks and smooths a hand over my bump as I roll my eyes, still annoyed with the interruption. "Don't be like that," he tsks, and I'm jolted when I feel something slap against my clit—I quickly realize that he was tapping me with the head of his cock. "Now sit on my dick since you wanted it so badly."

A fresh wave of heat simmers in my gut, my pussy clenching around nothing from his words. I open my mouth to retort, but I hiss out a curse instead as he guides himself inside of me and bucks his hips upwards. "Fucking Christ, Noah," I groaned out, taking a second to adjust to his girth at a new angle. We didn't typically fuck in this position, and it always took a moment for me to get accustomed.

I finally start to rock back and forth on his length when I feel him twitch inside of me, a reminder of his eagerness. His hands are on my sides, following along with each move that I made, holding me to him even though I was in control at this very moment. Soft moans sound from me the further I lowered myself on him, the feeling of him filling me beginning to consume me.

I lay my hands on his chest for support as I picked up my pace, my eyes fluttering shut while I savored the feeling of his cock inside of me and the warmth of his hands on me. He runs them up and down my sides gracefully, occasionally giving my love handles a gentle squeeze and lifting his hips in time with my movements.

"God, Olivia," he groans. "You feel so fucking good." I open my eyes, being met with a look of pure pleasure on Noah's face. His eyes were shut, and his lips parted, quiet pants slipping past them with each stroke—the sight alone could've tipped me over the edge, the satisfaction of knowing I was the source of his pleasure.

"Are you comfortable with sitting up and letting me take over?" He asks when he opens his eyes, his lips pulling into a tiny smirk as he gazes at me. I quirk a brow in him, halting momentarily. "Mmm, in what way?" He slams his hips into me, causing me to yelp and a sly grin to form on his face. "Something like that. Felt good, right?" I bit my lip and nodded. "Sit up, then." I swallowed and did as he instructed, straightening up.

His hands grasp my sides firmly and he adjusts under me, his knees now bent as he snaps his hips into me repeatedly. I cry out from the sudden animosity, throwing my head back and gripping onto his thighs to steady myself. "Fuck, Noah," I groaned. "Don't stop." "I didn't plan on it. Not until you come," he growls, still pounding into me.

Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and my moans filled the room; I sat there and took what he was giving me. His cock was hitting me in the exact spot I needed it to, and I could feel my core beginning to tighten each time he thrusted inside of me. I dug my nails into his thighs as I climbed higher and higher, hearing him hiss from it.

His hands grasp my hips harder—at this point he's practically slamming me down on his length—and knowing that he had me secured, I loosened my grip on his thigh with one hand and brought it to my clit. I rub my fingers against myself in circular motions, quiet mewls coming from me as my climax was quickly building.

"Fuck," I cried out, repeating it over and over like a mantra. "Noah, I'm so fucking—" "Close?" He growls below me, his fingers digging into my sides with a bruising force. "That's it. Let go, Liv. Fucking come on my dick." I whimpered when his thrusts grew stronger, and my fingers worked faster against my clit. My back starts to arch and I clenched around him, his cock sending me straight into orbit. The knot that had been wound so tightly inside of me snapped, and I nearly shouted from how hard my orgasm hit me.

Stars were shooting behind my eyelids as heat coursed through me, my body quaking and my hand squeezing his thigh so hard that I'm sure there would be bruises later. He continued to fuck me through my high until I came down some, panting as I tried to recoup while still on top of him. Spent, I laid my hands on his chest to hold myself up.

I feel his hands loosen their hold on me, his thrusts becoming less forceful, the rhythm turning sloppy. I knew he was close from the way he moved and the sounds of his quiet grunts. I see that his eyes are wrenched shut, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as he focused on his own release.

His mouth pops open, a long moan coming from him as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting inside of me. I can feel him pulsing against my walls, and he lifts his hips slowly as he tapered off his climax.

I rolled off him when I felt him slip out of me, lying down beside him. He turns onto his side to face me, his hand cupping my cheek and guiding me towards him. I hooked my leg over his side as he gave me a gentle kiss, his lips lingering against mine for a moment or two before gazing down at me.

"I love you," he says quietly, still trying to catch his breath, a heartwarming smile spreading across his face. I laugh lightly when he gives my nose a peck. "I love you, too, Noah." "And I love him or her," he gestures to my belly. "I can't wait to find out what we're having later today." I feel my heart swell, my lips trembling, and tears of joy sprung to my eyes. I crack a wide smile, placing my hand on his cheek. "I can't wait for you to find out, too," I giggled, pressing my lips to his.

I, of course, knew what the sex of our baby was—but it was an accident with how I found out. The plan was to have Juliana make a cake and dye it accordingly, but she just so happened to have left the card with the gender on it lying out on the table. I cried from the disappointment of having the surprise ruined, and also from the excitement of actually knowing, but I was glad that at least Noah would still be surprised.

Noah

As I finished securing the last of the balloons in our backyard, I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face when I turned around and laid eyes on Liv. She looked so beautiful as she fluttered around and talked to everyone, brandishing that radiant smile of hers. She had styled the front of her hair with braids haloing behind her head, the rest of her mahogany locks cascading down her back, which flowed just as her dress did.

I was glad that she enjoyed the dress I had helped pick out for her. It was a simple, cream-colored gown that ended just below her knees, accompanied by ruffled sleeves, a flattering v-neckline and a tie that knotted at the sternum. She looked like a goddess—my own personal goddess that made me soar each time I looked at her.

I made my way over to her as she was having a lively conversation with Bryan and draped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her in to give her a kiss atop her head. She giggles and peers up at me, that favorite crinkle of mine prominent in her nose as she beams. I hear the shutter of a camera, knowing Bryan had just snapped a picture of us. "Are you ready for the big reveal?" he asks, grinning.

It was a small gathering consisting of just the guys, and he happily offered to take photos for us when he saw that neither Vic nor Olivia's mom was in attendance. Liv was ecstatic from his generous offer, nearly crying, knowing she'd be able to send them copies.

I gave Liv a squeeze around her shoulders with a nod of my head. "I'm very ready." "Great! Let's go," she exclaims, wriggling out of my hold and practically bolts inside to grab the cake. There's a chorus of laughter from the guys, who definitely just witnessed her take off, as I shake my head in amusement.

Olivia makes her way over to the foldup table we had set up underneath the oak tree, which of course, I had strung pink and blue balloons around, and sets the cake down. Though I know she didn't make it, it was still decorated beautifully. It was very similar to how she would've decorated her Tres leches cake; the frosting on top pure white, dollops of whipped cream for accents, and strawberries—this time accompanied with blueberries. It was simple, but effective.

I sidled up beside her as she smiled and eagerly handed me the cake server for me to use when cutting into it. "Do you have an idea of what it is?" she asks me. "Well, it's a 50/50 shot," I mused, bringing a hand to my chin, and tapping it with my index finger. "It's definitely not a lizard." "Noah!" She smacks me lightly in the stomach, and I snort. "A lizard?" "Well, am I wrong?" I asked, trying not to laugh. She rolls her eyes, turning her attention to the guys, and asked them what their guesses were.

Nicholas and Bryan were guessing a girl, whereas Folio and Jolly were certain it was going to be a boy—I think Folio just wanted someone to bring fishing and talk motorcycles with as they grew older.

Olivia takes my hand and guides it over to the cake, hovering just above it, and looks up at me with excitement twinkling in her eyes. "Ready?" My stomach churns with anticipation and I smile, suddenly filled with giddiness. I nod and turn my attention towards the cake server, her small hand on top of mine, and we both slowly cut into it. I hear the sound of Bryan's camera clicking away to capture the moment, but Olivia's gasp was louder when we pulled the slice into view.

"Purple?" I question, furrowing my brows. "Maybe it is a lizard after all," I humor, a hum of low chuckles sounding from the guys. "Damn!" Folio exclaims, "I was really hoping for a boy. A little fishin' buddy." "I mean, it could be a boy lizard," Nicholas shrugs, a goofy grin on his face to try and make light of the situation. Jolly lightly shoves him on the shoulder after chuckling. "Shut up, dumbass. It's not a fucking lizard." Liv remained silent while they joked around for a moment or two, all of us sharing laughs until I heard her huff beside me.

"It wasn't supposed to be purple," she nearly whispers beside me, but I hear the quiver in her voice. I averted my attention to her after putting the slice down on the table, and my heart sinks; her lips were trembling, tears already beginning to trickle from her eyes. "The reveal's been ruined," she whimpers, a cry following shortly after. "No, it hasn't," I tell her gently, wrapping my arms around her. She hangs her head, her forehead resting against my chest as her shoulders shook with each sob. "Olivia, look at me. Please."

She shakes her head 'no', her arms now circling around my torso. I rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head, hushing her. "I still don't know what we're having, if that makes you feel any better," I try to console her, but it only made her cry harder. "I just wanted everything to be perfect," she says through choppy breaths. "And it is, love. It just makes for a good story. Right, guys?" I looked over at them; they all stood there silently, unsure of what to make of the situation. I shot them a stern look, and they all agreed enthusiastically.

I took her face between my hands, her eyes reddened and glossy as tears continued to well and spill down her cheeks. "Hear me out," I start, swiping my thumbs underneath her eyes. "We got strawberries and blueberries on the cake, right?" She nods, sniffling. "Strawberries for girl, blueberries for boy. You picking up what I'm putting down?" "No, not really," she mumbles. "That's okay," I chuckle lightly. "I'm gonna close my eyes, and you're gonna feed me one of the berries. I'll figure out what we're having that way. How's that sound?" I watched realization cross her features, and her lips begin to curl into a tiny smile. "Okay, yeah," she nods, another sniffle following suit. "I like that idea." "Great," I smile and press a kiss to her forehead before covering my eyes.

My heart warms when I hear her giggling, and my stomach was once again doing flips as I anticipated which berry would wind up in my mouth. "Ready?" she asks, and I nod. "Alright, bend your knees a bit and open your mouth." I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me from how wrong that sounded, but everyone else laughed, including Liv, probably thinking the same thing. She tells me to shut up, and I do as she says, considering our height difference. She pops the fruit in my mouth, and I bite down on it, immediately gasping.

Blueberries have never tasted so sweet.

"We're having a boy?!" I all but yelled. She clasps her hands in front of her chest and nods frantically, her smile wide as can be. "We're having a boy!" I repeated, scooping her up in my arms and giving her a twirl, laughter bubbling out of her as she clings onto me.

I stopped spinning but still held her up, just admiring what I had in my arms as she beamed down at me. Her iridescent blue eyes left me stunned, and even with mascara running down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks, she was still, and forever will be, the most beautiful person to me—and Christ, was I the luckiest man on the planet having her as my wife and mother of our son.

She cups my face in her hands and crashes her lips on mine, and suddenly I felt like I was soaring. Everything was right in the world; the band was doing well, I had recovered, our marriage—though not perfect—was no longer in shambles, and most importantly, Olivia was happy.

A/N: for those who were guessing the sex of the baby, were you right or wrong? Lemme know cuz I'm curious! About 75% said girl hehehe

|Chapter 22|

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