#the thing about pregnancy is that you can go to your obgyn

[sequinsmile-x]

Loquacious

/lo·​qua·​cious./ adjective: tending to talk a great deal; talkative.

Whatever the dentist had given Aaron had apparently made her usually stoic, quiet, husband the chattiest man on the planet. 

-x-

Hi friends!

Some silly, fluffy, and hopefully funny nonsense for you on this Wednesday evening. I'm gifting this to the lovely @em-prentiss because our Hotchniss brain powers somehow connected and encouraged us to both write Aaron high af at the same time haha

I really hope you like this, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of dentists/dental work

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She feels nauseous. 

It swirls in her gut, forcing her to press her fingers against her lips to stop her from retching, worried she’d throw up right here in the dentist’s waiting room if she didn’t. She was almost used to the nausea itself, it had been weeks of it now. Everything seemed to trigger it, making her stomach flip and twist as she tried to breathe through it. She was always oddly proud of herself for pushing through when she could, her other palm pressed against her still flat belly as she tries to ignore the scent of antiseptic in the air that had set her off the moment they’d walked into the dentist’s office. 

“Mrs Hotchner?” 

She looks up from where her gaze had firmly been fixed on the ground and she frowns when she sees the small cup of water being held out to her. The knowing look on the receptionist's face only deepens her confusion as she takes the drink from her. 

“You were starting to look at little green,” the receptionist says, uncurling her fist and dropping a couple of individually wrapped mints into Emily’s other hand, “I was the same way when I had my first,” she says, winking, “The mints help.” 

No one other than Aaron and Emily’s OBGYN knew she was pregnant. They hadn’t been trying all that long yet, only a few months had passed since she’d stopped taking her birth control, and she’d been nothing short of overjoyed when the first pregnancy test she took came back positive. Everything else in her life had been so hard to get, so fiercely fought for, that she thought this would be the same. Another thing for her and Aaron to survive together as they tried to grow their family. 

She was 10 weeks along and pregnancy was kicking her ass. She was exhausted all the time. Emotional. Nauseous. And her boobs hurt so much she felt like she could cry. She was surprised no one on the team had figured it out yet, that they hadn’t realised that over the last few weeks, she hadn’t been to any crime scenes, not when the smell of one almost made her throw up, and that she was largely just doing victimology. 

She knew that they’d have to tell everyone soon, and she was excited to share it with the people she loved, but she would miss this just being something between her and Aaron. A secret they shared in the privacy they so rarely had - his hand pressed against her stomach as they talked about everything their baby would and could be.

Emily stutters on a laugh and shakes her head, “How did you…”

The receptionist smiles kindly, “When you know you now,” she says, standing up straight again, “Your husband is all done, so when you’re ready you can go back and get him.” 

Emily sighs in relief and nods gratefully. He’d only had two teeth removed, a hit from an unsub distributing previous dental work to the point where they couldn’t be salvaged, but she’d been worried. She knew it was a simple procedure, that she’d seen him go through worse. She’d sat by and watched him recover from things most people couldn’t even imagine and she’d done since long before they were together. It didn’t make it any easier - and the hour she’d sat in the waiting room with nothing to keep her busy except the rolling nausea in her stomach and the sound of drills from the procedure rooms had been some of the longest of her life. 

She drinks the water, only sipping half of it so she doesn’t get carried away and make herself sick, and pops one of the mints into her mouth before she heads to where the receptionist had directed her, excited to see her husband. 

She hears him talking before she even enters the room, his voice muffled by the wooden door. As she enters the room, her eyes wide as she looks at her husband. The left-hand side of his face was swollen and numb. The grin he was throwing her, one she could only describe as goofy was lopsided, and his eyes were dazed. 

“Hi honey,” she says, walking over and sitting next to him, relief vibrating in her chest when he squeezes her hand back, “How are you feeling?” 

“Mouth hurts,” he replies, his words slurred ever so slightly, a lisp chasing every syllable as his tongue tries to figure out what the hell is going on. He turns to look at the nurse and points at Emily, “Didn’t I tell you she was pretty?” 

The nurse suppresses a smile, her lips pressed together as she talks over him, clearly aware that he simply wasn’t going to stop talking just because she’d started. 

“Yes, Aaron you did,” she says, turning her attention to Emily, “He’s been talking about you a lot, Dr Harris actually had to ask him to stop so he could extract the tooth.”

It was far from the first time she’d ever seen him on painkillers. They usually just made him sleepy, and more than once he’d fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder on the jet home when he’d been hurt on a case. This, she was quickly realising, was different. 

Whatever the dentist had given Aaron had apparently made her usually stoic, quiet, husband the chattiest man on the planet. 

She smiles softly at him and runs her fingers through his hair, “You’ve been bragging about me?”

He nods earnestly before wincing, “Always.” 

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider and she looks up at the nurse, “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Here is some gauze and some more pain meds,” she replies, handing Emily a bag, “He can use an ice pack when needed and as from tomorrow I’d recommend salt water rinses-”

“Gross,” Aaron interrupts, his face screwed up as Emily shoots him a look before she turns her attention back to the nurse.

“No food that will require a lot of chewing, and make sure he is careful when brushing.” 

Emily nods, her eyes flicking to her husband when he reaches for her hand, linking his fingers through hers, “Of course.” 

“What about kissing?” Aaron asks, his brow furrowing in frustration at the sound of his own voice, his tongue heavy in his mouth, “Is kissing okay?”

Emily sighs, ignoring how she could feel the nurse's amusement radiating off of her, “Honey-”

“Kissing is needed,” he says, looking earnestly at the nurse, “Have you seen how pretty she is? I need to be able to kiss her.”

The nurse, to her credit, doesn’t laugh, but she does clear her throat as she nods, her eyes sparkling as they meet Emily’s, “Kissing is fine, Aaron. Don’t worry.” 

Emily squeezes his hand as she looks down at him, “Come on, let's get you out of here,” she says, desperate to get him in the car and home before he says anything else. 

She thanks the nurse and then the receptionist as she walks past, her cheeks warming again as the other woman winks at her. Aaron stumbles ever so slightly when they get outside, as if the fresh air knocks him back, reminding him that he’s pumped full of painkillers and whatever sedative they gave him. She wraps her arm around his waist and smiles when his automatically loops around her shoulder, pulling her closer as if he’s the one providing the support. 

“Let’s go home,” she says as they approach the car, but he stops, still able to use his strength against her even in his impaired state, and she furrows her brow when she turns to see him staring at her, “What's wrong?” 

“I can’t go home, I need to go to work.” 

She thinks he’s joking at first and she laughs but it fades when she realises he’s being serious. She places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at him, “Aaron, baby, you’ve just had two teeth removed. You can’t feel half your face.”

“I don’t need my face to do paperwork,” he says, his attempt at a stern expression somewhat lost when half of his face doesn’t comply. “If you take me home I’ll just drive there myself.” 

She sighs because she knows he would. He’d rest for approximately two minutes before he got in the car and drove himself to work. She rolls her eyes and steps closer to him, making sure she stamps a kiss on the cheek he can feel before she pulls back. 

“Fine,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “I just had to marry the most stubborn man on the planet,” she says, shaking her head as she unlocks the car and slides into the driver's side, grateful when he at least doesn’t argue and gets in the passenger seat. She clips her seat belt into place and checks his is secure too when he’s done it, and she catches him staring at her, “What?” 

“You’re so good at looking after me,” he says, his smile still wonky and dazed, “Jack and the baby are so lucky to have you.” 

She leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth, “I think you’ve said more to me in the last few minutes than you did the entire first month I knew you.” 

He frowns, “That’s not true.” 

She hums, “Whatever you say, honey.” 

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sends two quick texts to the BAU group chat before she locks it and puts it down as she starts the engine. 

As predicted he wants to come to work. If any of you say anything about his lisp or his swollen face I will kill you.

We both know I’m talking to you, Derek.

___

He talks the entire car ride to the office. 

She has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing more than once, his constant stream of consciousness, mostly about her and how much he loved her, as entertaining as it was embarrassing. 

He’d never been shy about his love for her, not in private anyway. He always told her how much he loved her, how much he appreciated her. But this was something else, unbidden and wild as it spilled out of him without thought, his words slurred slightly by his half-numb face and the pain meds that were making him loopy. 

“Want to know my favourite thing about being at work?” He says as they get out of the elevator, and nods, regretting it when her stomach rolls a little, “That I get to sit at my desk and look at you.” 

She shakes her head lovingly and she stops them, “Want to know my favourite thing about being at work?” 

“I want to know everything about you.” 

She chuckles and bites her lower lip before she leans in, making sure no one would be able to hear her if they walk past, “That occasionally, my husband will sneak away and make out with me in a supply closet.” 

He attempts to waggle his brows at her but fails, “We can do that later if you want.”

She kisses his cheek before she pulls back, heading for the doors into the bullpen, “Baby, I think making out might be a little beyond you for a couple of days.” 

“But the nurse said we could kiss,” he grumbles as she pushes the door open, and she can see the delight that passes over Derek and Dave’s face as they step into the office, but all it takes is her raising her eyebrow at them for them to clear their throats, tight smiles thrown their way as Derek mumbles under his breath. 

“Looking good Hotch.” 

“Do you need help getting up to your office?” Emily asks Aaron, ignoring Derek and the others completely, and she regrets it the moment she asks. The unfiltered love she’d quickly become used to in the last hour or so flashing across his face before he leans in and kisses her cheek, sloppy and uncoordinated as he presses his lips against her skin. 

“You’re such a good wife,” he says as he pulls back, his smile wide, “You’re such a good mom,” he adds, and she knows what was going to happen a split second before it does, his hand reaching out for her stomach as he carries on talking before she can stop him, “I can’t wait to have this baby with you.” 

She sighs and closes her eyes, the moment of silence that follows what he’s said all too brief for her liking before she hears a gasp from JJ. 

“You’re pregnant?” 

Emily turns and looks at the team, and she nods, clearing her throat as she reaches down and squeezes Aaron’s hand before she removes it from her belly, “Yes. I am.” 

JJ pulls her into a hug, and Emily watches as Derek smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket, sending a text that she’d bet her trust fund on going to Penelope. 

“Congratulations,” JJ says, squeezing her tightly, “I’m so happy for you.”

Emily hugs her back, wrapping her arm around her briefly before she pulls back, “Thank you,” she says, throwing her husband a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anybody yet. But we’re excited.” 

Dave muscles his way in for a hug, before he pats Aaron on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you both. I assume I get to be god-father.” 

“It makes more sense for someone younger than them to be godfather,” Spencer says, smiling when Dave narrows his eyes at him, and Emily turns to Aaron, shaking her head as he watches everyone else. She slaps his shoulder gently, her eyebrow raised as their eyes meet.

“Now you’re quiet?” She asks, opening her mouth to gently berate him, any attempt to be mad at him pointless when he was looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars herself, but she’s cut off by a delighted squeal as Penelope walks into the bullpen. 

“Peaches, you’re pregnant?” 

Emily groans and pinches the bridge of her nose, “I should have just taken him home.” 

___

Aaron grumbles as Emily lifts his head up just long enough to slip in underneath, taking her place back on the couch, before lowering him back down onto the cushion on her lap before she holds an icepack against his cheek. “There’s something wrong with this,” he complains and she smiles, running her fingers through his hair with her free hand. 

“What do you mean?” 

He stretches his jaw and then groans in pain, “My pregnant wife looking after me,” he complains, his lisp almost entirely gone, “I should be waiting on you hand and foot. Bringing you water and ginger ale and rubbing your feet.” 

She chuckles and gently runs her knuckles up and down his good cheek, “You can do that tomorrow when you feel better,” she replies, her smile turning into a smirk, “Plus I think you owe me as many foot rubs as I want after telling everyone about the baby.” 

He grimaces and reaches up for her hand, linking their fingers together as he drags her hand to his lips and kisses them, “I am so sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s okay, honey,” she replies, “It’s not how I thought they’d find out. But I’m glad they know,” she says, her smile so wide her cheeks ache, “It makes it feel more real, you know?” 

“I know,” he says, and he turns his head and presses a kiss against her belly before he looks back up at her, “I really love you, Em,” he says, the same dopy smile he’d had all day spreading across his face, “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” 

Emotion she doesn’t understand, something she blames entirely on the baby, builds in her chest and she blows out a slow breath, “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” 

He smiles widely at her, but it slowly fades as if something is dawning on him and he groans, “You’re never going to let me live today down are you?” 

She laughs loudly and shakes her head, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “Oh, absolutely not.” 

-x-

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[cheapcheapfaker]

okay i will say though, things not on my pregnancy bingo: my armpits started hurting and when i curiously looked up if that could, for some ungodly reason, be a pregnancy side effect.

one, it IS a side effect

two, it’s because there’s MAMMARY TISSUE in there. ACCESSORY BREAST TISSUE. titty tissue lurks in your armpits.

and three. THREE. You may fucking leak MILK from there. You may have MILKY PITS. If the odds are not in my favor my sore armpits may EXCRETE MILK.

[onestopfanficshop]

parenthood hcs (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

tbh i feel like this sucks but like... i've been working on it too long to scrap it lol 💀 i might come back and add more as my brain starts to solidify again so if you read it and come back to more stuff just pretend you don't see it. so uh... enjoy the hot mess under the cut i guess

ghost/simon riley

during the pregnancy/delivery

—the reality of you being pregnant didn’t really sink in until after you started showing. that’s when he was like oh shit this is actually real this is actually happening

—if he was a light sleeper before (which i’m absolutely sure he was), he’s practically awake with his eyes closed at night now. very sensitive to every single movement you make, whether it’s you slightly shifting in your sleep or you getting up to use the bathroom. can’t really “fall asleep” until he’s absolutely sure that you are.

—has the most horrific nightmares of all the things that could go wrong with you and the baby, and he always feels so guilty afterwards, as if he was somehow willing those things to happen. he never told you about them until years later either

—likes to whisper to the baby when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear (except you can, and it nearly brings you to tears)

—was anxious to let you leave the house, insisting on getting all the groceries and whatever else you needed so you wouldn't have to go outside

—is paying attention to and remembers all of the important medical info that the doctor tells you two at your maternity appointments, especially when pregnancy brain is getting the best of you

—simon can't remember the last time he's cried in his adult life, but when he gets to hold your baby for the first time and they latch their tiny little fingers onto his larger one, he certainly does.

random parenting moments

—mans can hear the baby crying before the baby is even crying. being a light sleeper + having incredible hearing is a goated combo. he'll race into the nursery and try to take care of whatever the issue is to avoid waking you up at all costs

—absolute hell to fucking no to the hot diggity dog no when it comes to corporal punishment. no ands, ifs, or buts. (for the record, i don't think any of these men would do this, but simon especially, given his past). and it'll be a freezing cold day in hell before simon raises his voice at your kids; he simply doesn't see the need to

—gives his kids washable markers and lets them color in his tattoos

—shooting my girl dad blaster at this man because i can. (*pew pew*) he's the best tea party attendant in the history of tea party attendants. doesn't matter that he can barely even fit one thigh on the tiny chairs at his daughters' kiddie princess table–he'll make it work!

—i can definitely see him having sons too, which i know would be really bittersweet for him. he's determined to be a better father than the one that life afforded him. seeing that brotherly bond between his sons would be really therapeutic for him :(

—very surprised that his kids find funny, mostly because he's got that dry sarcastic deadpan humor, as opposed to the slapstick-type humor that most kids at that age gravitate towards. he's certainly not complaining, though; he loves making them laugh. he swears his kids' laughter is one of the best sounds in the world.

soap/johnny mctavish

during the pregnancy/delivery

—honestly is surprised at himself for deciding to settle down (finally). he knew he wanted a family eventually but he wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. he certainly isn't complaining though, because he thinks you'd be an amazing mother

—is constantly talking to your belly, even before the obgyn said that your baby had formed their ears. very determined for your kid to have his accent so he’s talking to them 24/7 lmfao

—and he definitely believes that the baby can communicate back 😭

—"okay, if you're a boy, what'd you think of this name? kick twice for yes."

—gives the absolute best foot rubs. would literally put a trained masseuse to shame

—so ecstatic when he finally gets his kid in his arms. he finally gets to see the little human that he's been talking to for the past several months; literally a dream come true

random parenting moments

—does the thing where he falls asleep on his back with the baby lying on his stomach

—his kids' first words will probably be curse words, no thanks to johnny 💀

—i'm picturing three kids: two boys (possibly twins; idk he just seems like a twin dad. it makes sense in my head, okay?)

—very relaxed parenting style, with an emphasis on letting his kids "fail" on their own and learning from their mistakes. relaxed shouldn't be confused with permissive, though, because he will definitely put his foot down and be more assertive if need be

—always down to play video games with his kids

—finds it absolutely hilarious to kiss you in front of the kids because they all make the most exaggerated sounds of disgust

—teaches your kids how to swim, which eventually leads to them convincing him to put a pool in the house (it took a lot of convincing but johnny just can't say no to them)

—has his own designated "dad" chair in the living room and gets disgruntled if he sees someone else sitting there. but one time he came back to one of the kids curled up in his chair late at night, fast asleep. he couldn't bring himself to wake them up so he just covered them in a blanket

gaz/kyle garrick

during the pregnancy/delivery

—lowkey has a stronger nesting instinct than you lol 💀 constantly is cleaning the house not only for you, but because it makes him feel calm

—always willing to hold your belly for a few minutes (or however long you need) to relieve you of the weight of carrying a whole human inside of you for a while

—also adores talking to the baby through your stomach, and loves putting headphones on your belly to play them music

—down to try your craving combos with you. sometimes he like “this is incredible" and other times he's like "what is this monstrosity" lol

—when you guys were putting together the nursery you discovered that ky has an impeccable eye for interior design. most of the unique pieces of furniture and paintings in the nursery were picked out by him

—has the biggest smile on his face once he gets to hold his kid for the first time. like his face hurts thats how hard he's smiling

random parenting moments

—literally doesn't want to put that baby down. like at all 💀 you practically have to beg him to give you your daughter so you can at least feed her

"just let me hold her for 5 more minutes!"

"kyle, your daughter is going to starve if you don't give her to me!"

—i'm thinking two kids for kyle is the perfect number to him; gender doesn't matter to him :)

—tries to keep up with pop culture so he won't be called old by his kids (and fails)

—always down to game with his kids

—has a really hard time saying no to them 😭 if you weren't there to keep him in check, your kids would be so spoiled

—LOVESSS halloween. taking his kids costume shopping and taking them trick-or-treating is one of the highlights of his year. and he's always down to customize a costume, too. anything from buying a bunch of different pieces to make one look or sanding down some plastic armor and painting it to look weathered—he's so unbelievably creative

john price

during the pregnancy/delivery

—collects sooo many books for the baby. especially loves the soft cloth books that have all of the different crinkly textures

—absolutely cherishes that first trimester where you’re not really showing and he gets to keep the two of you to himself and away from the rest of the world

—"sternly" tells the baby to stop kicking their mum (aka you lol)

—always has a protective arm around you while you two are out and about. was absolutely shocked by how many strangers would try and reach out and touch your stomach unprovoked once you started to pop. most of them were women, so the most he’d do was give them a hard look. still hated it though 🙄

—helps you make a checklist for your hospital bag + packs everything for you with military-like efficiency

—so so gentle when he holds his baby for the first time. he was never sure if he would get the chance to even be a father so it's quite emotional for him

random parenting moments

—your babies will have the largest vocabularies ever thanks to john, who refuses to use baby speak with his kids. instead, he speaks normally, as if the baby can understand him perfectly, and the results are pretty amusing

"love, did you move the almond butter?" john calls to you from downstairs.

"i swear i didn't!" you call back from upstairs, busy with your morning routine.

"hmph." he plants his hands on his hips, turning around, only to be met by the blinking stare of your infant daughter.

"darling, did you see your mother move the jar of almond butter?" he asks her, arms crossing over his chest.

*cue unintelligible-to-others-but-perfectly-understandable-to-john infant noises from the baby*

"bloody knew it. love, our daughter is saying you moved it. and she doesn't know how to lie yet, so i have no reason not to believe her."

—this man is so girl dad coded it's insane. but i'd like to think he'd have one son; he'd possibly be the middle or youngest kid

—you and the kids love to play "hide the bucket hat" from dad. price puts on his grumpy old man act but he secretly loves it because it always ends up with him chasing you guys until you all collapse in a laughing heap on the carpet

—constantly dropping bad dad jokes like he's paid to do it 😭 kids are always looking at him with a mixture of pity, disappointment, and mild annoyance

"dad, i'm hungry."

"why hello, hungry. my name's dad."

"no, your name is john.

"...how do you know that 😐"

alejandro vargas

during the pregnancy/delivery

—always showing you off to LITERALLY everyone, especially his family

—always finds a way to bring up the fact that your pregnant in every single conversation with a stranger lololol

—if you're the first one in ale's family to be pregnant (which you very well may be because i headcanon him as the oldest child in his family heehee) prepare to be spoiled by his siblings and the rest of his family. you have enough gifted clothes for your kid to wear an entirely different outfit every day for a year i'm not even kidding

—very protective, but not in a controlling concerning way. it’s more so seeing you visibly pregnant with a ring that he put on your finger that gets him all riled up

—was driving like an actual mad man to get you to the hospital when you woke him up in the middle of the night and told him your water broke (and by "driving like a mad man", i mean he forgot to use his blinkers and ran one singualr stop sign lmfao)

—first time he got to hold his baby it was absolutely love at first sight. gives you the most tender kiss on the forehead to say "thank you"

random parenting moments

—if you have all girls he is SUCH a girl dad. i think out of all the boys, he's the one that i can say would 100% have all daughters. he's playing princesses, doing hair for school, letting the girls experiment with makeup on him, all the works.

—and he absolutely doesn't let those "oh you're trapped in a house with all of those girls poor you!" comments slide. like at all.

—"not trapped, just lucky." he always says (before glaring at the person once they turn around)

—tries so hard not to curse in front of his girls but fails 💀 swear jar is always full

—the idea that your girls can do and be anything they want is drilled in from day one. naturally, this means that ale is the biggest sports dad EVER. he's at every recital, every game, every showcase, every scrimmage– you name it, he's there if he can make it. whenever he can't be there, he's always doing two mandatory facetimes; a pep talk before the game, and a debrief after

—one non-negotiable? self-defense. signed up each of his girls for self defense classes when they each started middle school

—not overprotective by any means. i mean, he can definitely be protective at times, but he knows his girls can handle themselves (you two raised them, after all).

—takes saving for their quinces as seriously as saving for their college funds (as he should)

—secretly a huge disney fan. he's watching all the disney princess movies, pretending like he's doing it for his daughters, but he's really doing it for himself hehe. still whisper-yells everytime he watches snow white eat the poison apple 💀

roldofo “rudy” parra

during the pregnancy/delivery

—is literally the most gentle person with you ever and it’s so sweet :(( always willing to massage out any knots you have in your shoulders or neck

—does all your pregnancy exercises with you (even though he’s not the one delivering the baby lol) just so you won’t feel alone :)

—always down to cook whatever cravings you desire (or run out to the nearest grocery store or gas station to get them)

—he's already a pretty touchy person but it's amplified times 10 during your pregnancy. he can't keeps his hands off of you, especially your stomach

—his abuela is always on back, asking you if he's taking good care of you and scolding him if she's sees you so much as lifting a plate by yourself 💀

—when your baby was born, he was quite sensitive to the noises of the hospital, getting fussy and crying a bit whenever he heard doors closing and loud beeps and such. you noticed however, that when rudy was holding him whenever this happened, he never shushed him to keep him quiet. he would simply rock your son back and forth, whispering quietly to him about whatever was on his mind until the newborn would calm down. just witnessing this alone solidified the fact that you'd basically picked the perfect man to be the father of your children.

random parenting moments

—carries his kids everywhere when they're young, even when they can walk. he just loves holding them :(

—incredibly rational, even in the face of conflict. when your kids get to be teenagers and get into typical teenage trouble and whatnot, he sits down with you first to break down what happened and what an appropriate response would be. not a fan of reacting on emotion (which teenagers can make very tempting to do) , which is always appreciated by both you and the kids

—i think he'd have the biggest family out of all the boys; i'm thinking 4 at the very least, with more girls than boys

—takes birthday party planning seriously, even when they're little and won't remember it all

—lovesss cooking with his babies. he gets ‘em those little kiddie knives that are safe to use and teaches them the proper technique and everything

—very frantic whenever one of them gets sick. even if it’s the mildest headache or a slight upset stomach, he just hates seeing any of them in pain

—drop-off duty warrior. has a whole system in place to get all the kids into the car on time and he’s literally never been late. it’s honestly very impressive

—vicks vapor rub is the solution to everything. sore throat? vapor rub. headache? vapor rub. bad day? vapor rub. broken leg? vapor rub (jk) (not really)

könig

during the pregnancy/delivery

—if you have mood swings, könig has to try his absolute hardest not to panic right along with you. he knows that your hormones are giving you a hard time right now, so he really wants to be your rock through all of it (however, if you start crying out of nowhere, he'll probably definitely start panicking)

—once you start showing, he likes talking to the baby in german to "give them a head start" (his words not mine)

—also good luck with that delivery babes because that's gonna be a 10 pounder at LEAST 😭 high probability you're getting a c-section

—if there's any complications, especially with a c-section, best believe any shred of social anxiety is disappearing and he's running on pure adrenaline when he yells at tells the medical staff in the room that he refuses to watch you and his child die here

—was so thankful you two were both okay that his hands were shaking a little when he cut the umbilical cord

—holds his kid like they're made of glass because he's so big that he fears hurting them :(

random parenting moments

—when the kids finally get to the toddler stage, he's pumped. they can run now, and he absolutely loves chasing them. also the kids love to treat their dad like a tree, climbing him and dangling off his arms like he's a human swing, which has given you a mild heart attack more than once 😭

—loves reading to them every night before bed

—i’m thinking two kids for him; either a boy and a girl or two girls

—big fan of doing doing arts and crafts with them (your house is constantly covered in scraps of construction paper)

—also loves taking the kids to a local fairground where they can go on a bunch of rides, pet some animals at the petting zoo, and play games. könig is usually too tall to ride the rides comfortably (rip), but he doesn't mind. as long as the kids are having fun, that's all that matters to him!

—yearly trips to visit his mom and grandma in austria are an absolute must

—kids are always clinging to him during the colder months because he just radiates heat

—his homemade remedy: soup! the kids absolutely love the different soups that he makes and it always seems to make them feel better whenever they're under the weather :)

[thought--bubble]

Make You Purr

Ettore X (Neuro-Divergent Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,683

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Dubcon,Smut, Mommy Kink? Lactation, Ettore.

A/N: This can be read as a one-shot or as a follow-up to my Kitty-Cat series, which can be found here

"You do not need to accompany her every time," Dr. Dibs looked up at Ettore, irritated while he looked back at her expressionless from his place leaning against the wall.

That's my pet

He stays put a smug look on his face as Dibs does her exam on you checking on the progress of your pregnancy, taking blood tests, checking your weight and just all the things that generally should be tracked and monitored for a pregnant woman.

From the outside, it would seem like a dedicated doctor and a loving boyfriend were supporting you during your pregnancy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Dr. Dibs is no caring OBGYN. She is a mad scientist trying experiments and using the woman aboard this ship as lab rats. While Ettore is not anywhere close to a loving boyfriend. Ettore is an apex predator driven by primal needs. He is compelled to make moves and decisions that serve to keep him fed. Which is how you ended up in your current predicament.

Your inability to communicate with those around you and your incessant need to be touched made you the perfect prey for Ettore, and he circled and cornered you until finally, like a gazelle to a lion he now has you exactly where he wants you.

Ettore had made himself feared upon this ship and, in doing so, made himself untouchable. Even with this status, he goes about his daily life almost the same as he did before, except now he brings his pet with him everywhere, and he no longer hides it. He doesn't feel the need to pretend that he doesn't own you. No, instead, he flaunts it. Dragging you behind him at all times, he worked hard to catch you at great personal risk, and he would be damned if someone were to come between you now.

You are about 5 months pregnant at this point, and still Ettore keeps you glued to his side. You are his pet. His property, and as your belly grew, and your breasts swelled, you had thought his appetite for you would have lessened, but somehow, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Ettore was more insatiable than ever to the point where he wasn't even waiting to get you in private anymore. At times, he just bent you over the counter while you worked the cafeteria shift, showing no concern whatsoever to the other inmates coming and going. The never-ending pressure of Ettore's sexual needs and possessive behaviors coupled with your pregnancy had your battery running dangerously low.

After your appointment with Dibs, you were exhausted and wanted to lay down. Ettore headed towards the cafeteria, but you turned the opposite direction towards his room, the room that you now both slept in.

"Kitty?" He calls after you while he watches you waddle in the opposite direction. He follows you back to his bunk, and you crawl in and sigh, instantly closing your eyes.

"Cmon, it's time to eat." He grips your hand tight and attempts to pull you from the bunk. You yank your hand from him and roll over, grumbling.

Why isn't she listening? she always listens?

He crawls into the bunk with you and rolls you flat on your back. You instantly start to whimper and whine.

"Shhh kitty." He strokes your cheek, and with a small smile, you nuzzle into his hand. "What's going on with you, huh?"

He pulls the blanket down and off of you, then quickly reaches for your scrub bottoms, pulling both those and your panties down.

You attempt to squeeze your legs together. You are tired, big, uncomfortable, and your boobs hurt. Trying to keep up with Ettore's insatiable appetite has become near impossible for you, but Ettore always makes sure he gets what he wants.

He positions himself between your thighs and begins to stroke himself to hardness staring at your belly. He rubs his hand up over your stretched out abdomen and tilts his head to the side.

I did this. This is mine

He rubs his thumb over your clit watching as your body begins to twitch, your belly poking higher into the air. He slides a finger into you as he leans over you and grabs one of your tits.

Your eyes fly open, and you wince at the harshness of the squeeze pushing his hand off.

He growls, but as he goes to grip it again, he feels the heat radiating off of your breasts and instead ops to simply roll the nipple between his fingers.

You let out a sound that is somewhere between a sigh of pleasure and a groan of pain. Ettore's cock throbs at the sound as he bites his bottom lip.

Such a helpless little thing, my kitty

He lines himself up at your entrance, unable to wait even another minute before pushing himself into you with a growl. You whimper at the intrusion, as he slowly pushes his cock further until he bottoms out and then starts to slowly drag himself back repeating the motion at that same unhurried pace.

You close your eyes and lay back, trying to just enjoy the sensation. You feel his hands move along the tight skin of your stomach, the touch gentle, much more gentle than you are accustomed to.

You melt into the mattress, eyes closed, just soaking in the attention until suddenly it stops. Ettore pulls out of you and drops down beside you, looking up at the bunk above. You roll your head to the side and, with shock, recognize the look on his face. Only it isn't a look you have ever seen on him, only on others. He looks vulnerable, scared even.

You pull yourself up, and he instantly joins you by sitting up himself, his eyes watching every little movement you make. You know he needs comfort and care. It isn't something you ever expected him to need. You don't know how you know. Maybe a mother's intuition? All you know is he needs this now and you couldn't help but want to provide it to him.

You lift your leg across his lap, straddling him as he looks up at you. His eyes are pleading, like a lost puppy in need of saving. You know this man to be a wolf, but all wolves were puppies once. You kiss his forehead and rub your cheek against his and feel his body tense and then soften.

Ettore closes his eyes the feeling in his chest gets tighter and he is getting worried, he doesn't recognize this feeling and he doesn't like it, but when he opens his eyes again and looks up at you as you gently caress the sides of his hair with your hands he can't help but surrender to this new feeling, even if just for a little while.

Please Kitty, take care of me

You lower yourself onto his cock and ride him slowly. He slides his hands up your back pulling your chest towards his face nuzzling his face in between your breasts. The gentleness of this experience is something entirely new to him, and his head is swirling with new feelings and new sensations, the whole thing becoming a bit overwhelming.

He grasps tightly at one of your breasts, and you shriek out in pain. Your boobs have been so sore the last month that touching them almost at all is unbearable. He takes his hand back quickly and gently caresses your left breast. You continue to bounce gently on his cock as he takes your left nipple into his mouth.

You hiss slightly pulling away, but he holds you in place with his hand on your back as he continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple and gently suck on the tender flesh. His eyes go wide the first time he feels liquid enter his mouth but when he looks up at your face, only to see a look of relief and euphoria he knows this is right, this is what he should be doing. so he continues his ministrations, drawing more liquid from your breast while gently massaging the hot skin.

You start to move your hips with more purpose as he switches to your right breast, again circling the nipple with his tongue before drinking his fill.

You wrap your hands around the back of his head, holding him gently to your chest as you slightly increase your pace, your breath coming out in labored huffs. Your center starts to clench around him, and he knows you are getting close.

He continues to suck on your nipple while bringing his hand down to your clit and rubbing circles upon the engorged nerve.

His eyes open in shock when you start to moan, really moan, loudly. His obedient, sweet, quiet, Kitty almost never makes a sound.

I finally made you Purr

The sound of your moans, the clench of your most intimate muscles around him and the shudder that runs through your body from the power of the orgasm that blasted it's way through you was enough to send Ettore into bliss of his own as he grunted, looking up at you jaw slack while he coated your walls once again.

He helped you lay back on the bed and watched you intently as you drifted off to sleep a small smile on your face.

As he lay there next to you, his hand on your belly, his mind started to race with the thoughts of the other women who had gotten pregnant on the ship. All of them died.

Every. Single. One.

Dibs didn't try hard enough, she missed something, she's doing something wrong.

For the first time in months, Ettore got out of bed and left you alone to sleep while he moved through the hallways with purpose toward the office of Dr. Dibs.

He was determined to make sure she was aware of how important it was for her to figure out how to get you through the pregnancy without losing you.

Because if Kitty dies. Everybody Dies

Epilogue for Kitty-Cat series can be found HERE

To be added to taglist click here

[cevansbrat0007]

The Green Light

Summary: Full Story! Andy is over the moon when you finally get the green light to be intimate again after the birth of your babies. But how do you explain to him that you're not quite comfortable with your post-pregnancy body just yet? Check out the sequel: The Green Light Afterglow.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Light Smut, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Discussions of Post-Pregnancy Body, Discussions of Intimacy, Slight Lactation Kink Reference, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: I know this took a while. Thank you all for your patience and I sincerely hope it's okay. Prompt courtesy of an anonymous reader. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Warnings subject to change. All mistakes are my own. Please let me know your thoughts!

___

“Well, I’ve gotta tell you, my dear, by all appearances you’ve healed just fine.” You let out a sigh as Dr. Wilson, your OBGYN, removes the speculum. God, how you hated that thing. “You can go ahead and sit up.” You watch as he removes his gloves to make some notes on his mobile workstation. “Everything looks good. How have you been feeling lately? Raising four kids is no easy feat, especially when half of them are newborns.”

“Andy and I try to split the shifts as best we can. If he’s helping with the twins then I’ve got the older girls, and vice versa.”

“That’s good. One thing I’ve always liked about the two of you is that you believe in teamwork. You’d be surprised at how many couples don’t.” He makes a few more notes. “And how many hours of sleep would you say you get a night? Ballpark it for me if you can.”

“Um…” You have to think about that one. “Maybe five. Yeah, I would say about five hours a night. And I can occasionally squeeze in a quick nap during the day when the twins are sleeping. It doesn’t happen all of the time, but it’s better than nothing.”

The older man nods his head. “And how are Bianca and Katrina adjusting to the new additions? And by the way, don’t forget that you promised to show me pictures, because I certainly haven’t.” Dr. Wilson looks up from his computer and offers you a warm smile.

“I haven’t forgotten, don’t worry.” You tell him with a chuckle. “And they’re okay. Bianca loves to hold them all the time. And Katrina is enjoying being a big sister – she’s very helpful. She wants to play with them so bad, but she doesn’t quite get that they’re still a little too young.”

“I see. And is she still threatening to put A.J. outside?” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he struggles not to laugh just like he had when you’d first relayed your three-year-old’s initial reaction to your pregnancy reveal. 

“Oh, God. She’s only made that threat twice I think since we’ve brought them home. Once when he wouldn’t stop crying. And then again when she wanted to cuddle with me while I was in the middle of a feeding. Other than that, she’s been fine. He’s growing on her.” 

“Glad to hear it.” He mutters. “That’s usually how it goes. Give it a few years, and I bet they’ll be the best of friends.”

God, you sure hoped so. Just last night you had a dream about finding your little boy out in the woods. Except he’d somehow grown a beard, making him look like a baby mountain man. And, of course, he had been clutching that damn blankie too! 

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that I’m officially giving you the all-clear to resume any and all physical activity. If you have any concerns after we’re done here, you know I’m only a phone call away.”

Thank goodness! You couldn’t wait to start working out again. You were tired of rocking stretchy pants and maternity clothes. 

Your phone buzzes in your purse as Dr. Wilson finishes up whatever else he’s typing. It goes on for a while before it finally stops, only to resume buzzing seconds later. 

If you were a betting woman, and you were, you’d put your money on the person behind all the constant buzzing being none other than your husband, Andrew. You knew he’d been waiting for this day. Your man had been extra giddy this morning. So much in fact that you could’ve sworn he’d clicked his heels on his way out the door.

___

Twenty Minutes Later…

You wait to check your phone until after your appointment is over and you're safely back in your car. According to your phone, you have two missed calls from Andy Bear, along with three new texts.  

Andy Bear: Hey, baby girl. How’d the appointment go? Did we get the all clear?

Andy Bear: Can you answer your phone, please? I want to hear your sweet voice when you tell me the good news.

Andy Bear: C'mon! You’ve got me dancing on pins and needles right now. Call me.

You shake your head and then dial your man. He answers on the second ring. 

“There you are, sweetness! I was starting to get worried there for a moment.” The genuine concern in his voice has you playfully rolling your eyes. 

“Relax, Andy. Sometimes these appointments can take a while. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong, Dr. Wilson is just being thorough.” You check your appearance in the rearview mirror, noting that the bags under your eyes seem to look better than they have in days. “That’s part of the reason he’s been my OBGYN for so long, because he’s good at what he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s great.” You know he's not being dismissive on purpose, it’s just that he’s chomping at the bit to hear one key piece of information. “How’s your little body? Did we get the green light?”

Ahh, and there it was. Sometimes Andrew Barber was like a dog with a fucking bone. And only your husband would refer to your body as being “little” when you were still walking around sporting maternity wear.  

“I’ve been cleared for all physical activity. Which means I can finally start working out again and –”

“Fuck, yeah we did!” He cheers into the receiver, loud enough to make you wince. “Alright, baby girl, that settles it. BiBi and KitCat are going to my sister’s for a sleepover and the twins will stay at grandma’s. Meanwhile, I’m gonna leave the office early to pick us up some dinner. How about we celebrate with some surf and turf?”

“Oh my god, Andrew! We are not leaving our two newborns at your mother’s house for the night. That’s too much!”

“What if she already said yes?” You have no doubt that your unrepentant husband is smiling hard enough to crack a tooth right about now. 

“You didn’t.” Your head drops to the steering wheel with a light thunk. 

“Oh, I did.” The sound of an eager chuckle spills across the other line. “Ma and Bill are happy to keep Rory and Junior. She said you left them with enough formula and diapers to get ‘em through and that she, and I quote, would be positively heartbroken if you deprived her of time with her precious new grandchildren.”  

“Andy…I don’t know…” As tempting as the thought of a night of uninterrupted slumber was, you were on the fence about being away from your precious babies for that long. 

RoRo needed to be rocked to sleep, while A.J. needed you to pat his little tush and bounce him just so. And they both needed approximately 1,375 kisses every five minutes, otherwise they got fussy. 

“You must really want a good night’s sleep, huh, Big Man?”

“Baby, when I get my hands on you, I promise that sleeping will be the last thing on both of our minds. Now, I’ve gotta run. But I’ll see you home around 4:00pm.”

“Andy…” 

How did you tell your husband that you weren’t really feeling your post-pregnancy body right now? You’d even taken to changing in the bathroom lately. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice that increasingly bad habit of yours…

At least not yet. But it was only a matter of time.

“Hush, sweetness. You just let Daddy take care of everything, okay? I’ve been dreaming of this day for almost two months now, and I plan to take my time loving all over every inch of your delectable body. And what’s more, you’re going to let me.” You can practically feel your nipples pebbling beneath the fabric of your shirt. 

God, how did he always manage to sound so sexy when he was telling you what to do? Handsome ass buttface!

“I’ve gotta head into this meeting, but in the meantime, get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” You respond with a resigned sigh. “I…I guess I’ll see you when you get home then.”

“Damn right. Can’t wait to lose myself between those luscious thighs.” Andy rasps, with a slightly roughened edge to his tone. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a taste…” 

Oh good God…and it had been way too long since you had to deal with beard burn. At this point, you’d almost forgotten about what it felt like.

“Bye, Andy Bear.”

"Goodbye, little love.”

The call ends, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Putting the car in drive, you pull out of the parking lot and start thinking of every argument you could possibly make to talk your sweet, although slightly ogreish, husband out of sexy times and into sleepy times. But there was also something that told you that might not work.

Which meant it was time to come up with a Plan B. And while you were at it, probably a Plan C too.

___

Later That Afternoon...

“This makes me look like an apple with legs.”

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror trying your best not to give in to the overwhelming feeling of defeat. At this point, you’d tried on multiple sets of lingerie – all different styles, cuts, and colors. 

And this one had been the only thing that seemed to look halfway decent.

Well, the good news was that your ass was still there. But the bad news? So was your stomach. 

“Swear to God…I’m gonna find an ocean and throw myself in it.” You mutter as you stare at your reflection. You let out a resigned sigh as you do a little spin. “Knowing my ass can’t swim.” You gently smoosh your hand against your tummy in an attempt to flatten it. 

To be fair, you’d only given birth two months ago and the lingerie you’d purchased was kind of slimming so…

Maybe you were being too hard on yourself. Or, maybe it was still worth trying to convince your husband to settle for an evening filled with dinner and cuddles. You really weren’t in the mood to take your clothes off in front of him at the moment. 

Hell, who were you kidding? You could walk around wearing nothing but fishnets and tinfoil and the man would still find a reason to be into you. 

Sometimes your loving husband was a man of the hopeless variety. 

Plus, while Andrew Barber wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, he would definitely do everything in his power to persuade you. And he could be very persuasive when he put his mind to it. 

Yeah. You were probably fucked.

You take a deep breath and run your fingers through your thick hair, loosening and fluffing your curls. Although Andy would be home any minute, there was still time to throw on sweats and a t-shirt or something. 

“Fuck!” You hiss as your eyes well and your bottom lip begins to tremble. The other problem was that, while you were convinced that you needed more time, you also wanted to make your husband happy. But how could you when you could barely stomach the idea of taking off your clothes in front of him.

Just last week, some asshole at your favorite smoothie bar had the nerve to ask how far along you were – his intrusive gaze lingering on your post-baby body. His audacity had caught you so off guard that you were pretty sure that you’d given some unintelligible answer before snatching your drink and running towards the nearest exit. 

That one little interaction had practically eviscerated what little bit of self-confidence you had left. And while you hadn’t made specific mention of it to Andy, you might end up doing so – if only to plead your case. 

Which was that you were simply too large right now to be sexy, let alone feel attractive. Your skin was too loose, your stretch marks too prominent. And not only that, you were pretty sure that the only reason Andy wanted you right now was because he hadn’t gotten any in a couple of months. 

Once his itch had been sufficiently scratched, the haze would clear and then your husband would see your body for what it was. He would understand your need to undress behind closed doors, without an audience. And then he would give you however much time you needed to get yourself back into some semblance of shape. 

A lone tear slips down your cheek, which only serves to piss you off more. And although you’re quick to dash it away, another one is soon to follow. The last thing you needed for Andrew to notice you’d been crying. There was no need for both of you to feel bad about the state of things, you know?

With one last shake of your head you decide to throw on your robe and head downstairs to greet your man. 

“Let’s get this shit over with.”

___

Ten Minutes Later…

“Baby?” Your husband calls out as he enters the house from the garage. “Baby, I’m home! Where are you?”

“Kitchen!” You go back to busying yourself folding your brand new set of dish towels you’d purchased from Bed, Bath, & Beyond. That store was one of your happy places, second only to Target and Disney World. It also helped that there was one located almost directly across the street from the mall you’d stopped at as well.

Your pulse quickens as you hear him approach, his rapidly falling footsteps coming closer by the second.

“Ah, I found you.” Andy rounds the corner, grinning from ear to ear. “Hi, my gorgeous girl.” His smile somehow grows impossibly wider. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”  

“Well, here I am.” You cast him a demure glance over your shoulder. “Although, I’m afraid I’m probably not much to look at.” Noticing his hands are surprisingly empty, you attempt to change the subject. “I thought you were gonna stop and grab dinner on the way?” 

“I was.” He cocks his hip against the kitchen counter as loosens his tie. “But since you didn’t seem all that keen on the idea of surf and turf this morning I figured I’d hold off. Maybe see how we were feeling later this evening.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh? Is that all my baby has to say about that?” Andy tosses his tie onto the counter before unfastening the top three buttons of his light blue dress shirt. “Just oh?” 

“Uh, yeah. How was your day?” You were quickly running out of towels to unfold and refold. If you kept it up you were going to start looking like a lunatic.

“Too long for a man who’s been missing his wife the way I have.” His sensual purr is enough to make you weak in the knees. “It was fucking excruciating, Baby Girl.” 

Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye – fuck! Your dumbass just made fucking eye contact!

Your throat suddenly goes dry as the weight of his intense gaze threatens to overwhelm you. Andrew Barber always seemed to have this way about him. Only he had the power to unravel you in this manner. 

It was truly a skill that was his alone. But on days like today, it was also a major nuisance.   

“Come here.” The gentleness of his tone softens the command.

“Umm…” Instead of doing as you’re told you decide to shove those stupid towels you’ve been preoccupied with into a drawer. Which also happens to be the wrong drawer. Kitchen linens didn’t belong with the cutting boards. Anybody with some sense could see that!   

“Sweetheart…” Andy’s voice drops another octave. “Stop fussing with those and come here already. I’d really like to hold my wife.” His earnest plea has your eyes welling with tears.

“Yeah. Okay.” You sniffle out, before dropping the towel and making a headlong dash into his waiting embrace. He wraps his brawny arms around you then, tucking his chin into your thick mane of glossy curls.

The two of you stand there without moving. Holding each other close as your hearts beat in time with one another. Andy’s hand comes to rest on your lower back, his palm slowly rubbing in small, soothing circles. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” He hugs even tighter as you gently nuzzle your face against his chest, effectively wiping off what little bit of makeup you’d managed to apply earlier. “Tell me, please.”

Aww. Your sweet Ogre had even said “please”. 

“Nothing.” Which was also code for everything. 

Andy steps back to tenderly grip your chin, his thumb lightly smoothing across your bottom lip. “You know Daddy doesn’t like it when you lie.” And then he leans in to brush his mouth over your own. “Especially when you’re upset.”

“I know.” The words come out barely above a whisper. “And I’m fine. I just, um…” You go to pull away, surprised when he actually lets you. “I went and did a little shopping today. You know…cuz’ we got the green light. But – well, not the robe. Th–that isn’t new. But once I got it home and really looked at it, I um…” You throw up your hands as everything comes tumbling out in one jumbled mess.

“It just doesn’t fit right, okay? It probably didn’t even fit properly at the boutique when I tried it on and I just didn’t notice. Because the lighting was different and the mirrors are maybe a little more forgiving. Kind of like the ones you find in a funhouse. Except all of them were super flattering. Not like the one we’ve got in our bathroom here at home. Which…I mean that’s probably how they get ya, right?”

Your husband lifts a quizzical brow as you continue to ramble and slowly back away. You knew there was quite literally no possible chance you could manage to outrun your handsome attorney. But that didn’t mean you weren’t above giving it the old college try.   

“So, I’m just gonna go upstairs and peel this ugly thing off. That way neither one of us has to even bother looking at it.” You finish rather lamely.

“And why exactly do you think I wouldn’t want to look at you? How about you explain that one to me, please?” Andy growls, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers.                 

“Because I don’t like the way I look right now and I’m pretty sure that if I show you, then you won’t either.”

Andy stares you down, the muscle ticking in his jaw. But you were beyond caring at this point. Right now was about acknowledging the truth regarding your body and the level of comfort you had with it.  

“That’s bullshit, baby.” He rakes an impatient hand through his hair, moussing the auburn strands. “You know I love the way you look. I fucking adore you.”  

“And that last part may very well be true, Big Man.” You concede, toying with the material of your robe. “But I, um...” A lump forms in your throat, but you force yourself to press on. “I do believe you love the way I look when I’m pregnant, yes. So do I…mostly. And you also love the way I look when I’m not pregnant. As in, after I’ve lost a healthy chunk of the baby weight.”  

“What in the–? I mean, Jesus fucking Christ!” Your husband cuts himself off mid-sentence as he rocks back on his heels – as if stunned by your admission. 

“I’m saying this wrong.” Good lord, you needed to get a better handle on the direction of this conversation. “Fuck! I know I am. But I don’t feel very good about myself right now. I don’t want to take off my clothes. I don’t want you to see me in this lingerie. Because I am almost entirely convinced that once you do – once you see all that I’m currently working with – you will change your mind about wanting to sleep with me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Andy scoffs under his breath, which you ignore.

“And if I see that…if I see that switch flip behind your eyes when it finally clicks just how unattractive I truly am…I don’t think I could handle that.”  

As hard as this was, it was important for you to make him understand. And once you were finished, perhaps you could cook the two of you something for dinner.  After that you would simply settle in and enjoy an easy, child-free night.

“Meaning?” Andy grunts.

“Meaning, I’m not taking off this robe tonight.” You blow out a weary breath as your hands go rest on your hips. “In fact, I don’t even know why –”

“Are you finished yet, sweetheart?” Your husband finally interrupts, apparently having had enough of your tirade. “Or do you have more? Because I’ve gotta tell you, as nice as it is that you think you’ve decided all this shit for us, your Daddy has quite a bit to say. So, are you fucking finished?”

“Y–yes.” That strange lump in your throat is back. “But I –”

“Stop. If you’re going to be done, then be done.” Andy interrupts again, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. “Baby Girl…I know what you’re doing. Even if you don’t, even if you can’t see it. I do. And I’m going to put a stop to it right now.”

“I’m just telling us both the truth!” You cry before you can catch yourself. 

“No. You’re feeding us both lies. And I won’t stand for that shit. Not for another goddamned moment. I–I just won’t.”

The passion in his voice is enough to temporarily silence any forthcoming protests. 

“And what’s more,” Andy forges on, “you’re not giving me even a shred of credit here. Which, and I’ve gotta be real honest with you here, kinda pisses me the fuck off.” Now it’s his turn to sigh, although this one is filled with exasperation.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, looking down at your toes.

“Look. At. Me.” The authority in his tone has your head snapping up immediately. 

“Have I ever, and I do mean ever, in all the years we’ve been together, given you any indication that you are anything but beautiful to me?” He takes a step towards you, even as you take one back. “I quite literally worship the ground you walk on, sweetness. Which means that I occasionally notice things, even when you think I don’t.”

Your husband takes another step towards you, and then another. He’s getting closer, purposely crowding you with his big body – essentially trapping you like the predator that he was.   

“There has never been a time, not once, when I have been less than hopelessly attracted to you. I want you all of the goddamned time. And, you know, maybe I should seek professional help for this shit, but I don’t want to. I don’t need to. Because I love my wife. I adore every single inch of you.”

You jump when your back collides with the refrigerator, the cool surface of the stainless steel appliance piercing your skin through the thin fabric of your robe.

“So what is it, Baby Girl? What is that you’ve got under there that’s got you so convinced I’m going to be disgusted by what I see.” Andy levels you with a pointed look as his hands go to gently grip your biceps, caging you in. “What is it you’re trying to hide from me?”

You close your eyes when it becomes too hard to look at the man you loved more than anything - the man who was surely about to become your undoing.     

“While I appreciate your so-called brand of honesty, sometimes it hurts me when you talk about yourself like this. When you doubt yourself in this way. When you doubt me. Doubt us.” Andy briefly rests his forehead against yours before continuing. 

“How am I supposed to help you battle these insecurities if you won’t even let me in the ring, sweetness? Sometimes you make it damn near impossible to – fuck!” He hisses, breaking the almost tender embrace before reminding himself to pause. “Okay.”

“I–I’m sorry, Andrew.” This time you don’t bother trying to fight back the tears when they come. Instead you decide to let them fall, realizing that it might finally be okay to let your husband catch you.

Before you broke completely and shattered into a hundred-million little pieces.   

“Why on earth are you apologizing to me right now?” He cups your face with his hands as he brushes your tears away. “I’m not shaming you. I’m just…” He takes another calming breath. “I’m just talking to you. I thought we were expressing how we felt about things, weren’t we?”

“Yeah.” You give him a quick nod as more tears make their way down your cheeks.  

“Okay.” He presses a sweet kiss to your nose. “Then will you trust me to show you something?” Again you nod before allowing him to lace his fingers through yours and pull you in the direction of the hall.

“Wh–where are we going?”

“Hush.” 

He leads you down the hallway in silence, not stopping until you’re both standing in front of the full-length mirror located in the foyer. And then he reaches around to undo the knot on your robe, sliding it off your shoulders and letting it pool on the floor at your feet. 

“Well, would you look at you? Is this pretty little thing what you bought for me today?”

“Mmhm.” You breathe, resting your head against his broad chest while your man looks his fill. Andy smooths his hands up and down your sides, lovingly kneading your ample curves. “It was the only thing that I felt, um…like it might be okay.”

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Baby Girl.” Andy playfully nips at your ear. “You still trust me? Okay, good. Then let’s take this off, too.” He reaches for the skirt of your lingerie.

“But why?” You whine, attempting to wiggle out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, your Big Man refuses to let you go. “Wait!”

“I think I’ve waited long enough.” Even though he’s pushing you, you can tell he’s also trying to keep a lid on his patience. “We both have. You got to make your case back there in the kitchen, young lady. Which means it’s now time for your Daddy to make his, don’t you think?”

While you weren’t quite sure where this was going, you also weren’t sure if you were ready to use your safe word yet. If that particular rule even applied right now.

“I – alright.” You concede before lifting your arms so that he can help remove the flimsy garment, leaving you naked and bare to his gaze. Goosebumps rise on your vulnerable flesh as you shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

Safe to say, catching a chill was the last thing on your mind. You just wanted to get this shit over with, whatever it was, and then move the fuck on already.

“Be a good girl and open your eyes for me, little love.” Andy purrs, lightly running his fingers through your curls. “I want to show you what I see every time I look at you.” 

It takes you a moment, but eventually you’re able to do as you’re told. But instead of focusing on your own reflection, you choose to look at your husband – taking comfort in the warmth radiating from him.

You wanted to trust him. You really did.     

“Thank you. Now, I want you to do your best to hear me.” Andy begins as his hands come up to rest themselves on your shoulders. “You are gorgeous no matter what size you are. And I am consistently awed by the fact that you, my darling wife, just gave birth to two healthy babies a little over eight weeks ago. My babies.” You receive a tender kiss to the back of your neck.

Your lower lip begins to tremble of its own accord. But this time you don’t look away, instead you follow the path of his fingers as they trail their way down your body.

“It’s because of you, and your magnificent little body, that I’m lucky enough to have four pieces of heaven running around this house, making noise and causing chaos. Giving me both a reason to live again along with a few new gray hairs at the same time.” 

You watch as he lifts your breasts, hefting the erotic weight of them in his palms. He gently massages them, completely unfazed by the light dribble of milk leaking from your left nipple. Instead you’re treated to another roguish grin as his tongue darts out to greedily lap up the stray drops from his knuckles. 

“Fucking delicious. But stop trying to distract me, baby.” He rasps, his tone just shy of teasing. “We both know you’re not quite ready for me to feast just yet.” And then he winks at you, which suddenly has your legs feeling like jelly. 

Although you flinch when his focus shifts to your belly, the pads of his fingers tracing along one of your more prominent stretch marks. He keeps his touch light - bordering on reverent - as he marvels at the angry stripes painted across your skin.

The ones formed out of a natural bond built between a mother and her children. 

“I love this part of you. This part right here where you – aw, no. Please don’t look away from me, honey.” Andy moves to kiss away a fresh wave of tears. “Let me see those eyes.”  

“I…I...” Your mouth clamps shut as you stifle a hiccup. You grant yourself a couple of seconds before opening your eyes again. This time when you do, you gently place your hands on top of his. “I’m sorry. I know, you love this part of me because of the kids. And I get it, I do. But…” You shake your head and give up.

Because something tells you that perhaps you’d be better off just listening for right now. 

“Yes, I absolutely love this part of you because of our rugrats, but that’s not the only reason. It’s because, as much as I adore your tight little pussy and that spankable ass of yours, your belly has always been it for me.”

“What?” Now that has your full attention.    

“I’m not kidding.” He asserts. “I don’t think I’ve ever shared this with you, probably because I thought I’d run the risk of sounding dumb. But your belly has always been my favorite feature because it’s…it’s my anchor.”

Your husband’s heartfelt admission actually has the nerve to throw you for a bit of a loop.   

“I’m serious.” Andy continues, leaning down to press a hard kiss to your cheek. “There’s something about whenever the world feels like it’s falling apart all around me and then I reach for you, because that’s what I do. And you’re always there for me, my love. Always.” He gives you a light squeeze. “And without fail, you just let me hold you like this, wherever we are. And I just…I feel better.”

“Swear to God, I’m a grown-ass man, but this part of you brings me so much comfort. I understand the fact that you struggle with accepting your body the way it is right now, especially after welcoming the twins. But please believe me when I tell you that where you only seem to see your flaws, I see strength. I see incomparable beauty.” 

Andy takes that moment to fully envelope you, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle and burying his face in your hair. You allow yourself to stand there for a little while, drinking in the sight of your devoted husband holding your nude body.

You’ve never felt more loved. More cherished than you did right now.  

“Andy Bear…” You whisper, your voice filled with emotion. “I…I don’t quite see what you see. Not yet. But I do think I feel it now. More than I did anyway.” 

You let out a surprised yip when he spins you around. His intoxicating blue eyes bore into your own as his hands move to tease the globes of your ass.

“You should know that I wasn’t finished yet, princess. I just spent the last several minutes composing a sonnet dedicated to that greedy pussy of yours. Then there’s those luscious thighs, and that ass. I also never really had a thing for feet until I met you, but I’m particularly fond of those too. I’m prepared to wax poetic about it all because I want you to see what I see.” 

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. And when you decide to let it loose, it’s quite literally the most wonderful feeling in the world. You feel lighter than you have in days.

It’s enough to make you start crying all over again.   

“I love you, Andrew Barber.” You murmur, rising on your tiptoes to take his lips in a brief kiss. “And I know you had what I’m sure was one hell of a speech planned, and while I really hate to cut it short, I’m thinking I might wanna take you to bed now.”

“Oh?” His tone is rife with cautious optimism. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Giving in to impulse, you proceed to tickle his ears. He makes a show of batting your hands away as he playfully dodges your advances – much to your delight. Although he eventually puts an end to things by picking you up and holding you close.

“But can we maybe take it slow?” You ask as you snuggle into his chest, basking in the safety and security of his familiar scent. 

“Of course.” Andy murmurs as he spins on his heel and heads towards the direction of the stairs. “We have all night, my precious girl.”  

That was the moment you knew without a doubt. The moment you finally believed that everything he’d said, every word he’d spoken to you, had been nothing but the truth.  

And later that night, when you collapsed on the bed feeling completely sated with one another, you thanked your lucky stars that fate had led you into the arms of the one and only Andrew Barber.

END

For more about Andy and Reader's first time making love after welcoming their twins, be sure to check out the sequel, The Green Light: Afterglow.

[drewsbuzzcut]

The Worst Of Me Is Racing All Around Your Mind

Nick Moldenhauer x Dallas Blankenburg

A so it goes fic

Warnings: mentions pregnancy, mentions abortions, false positives pregnancy test, panic/anxiety, cursing, mentions wanting to vomit, angst and angst (let me know if I forgot anything) this is also lightly edited

This takes place May 2024

Dallas walks on shaky legs out of the restroom, her shaking hands gripping the used pregnancy test. She already knows the answer, she was way too curious to wait to look at the test with Nick.

“Here,” she hands it over to him and waits for his reaction.

“It’s positive,” he states once looking at the plus sign.

He looks up at her and his eyes glimmer in what seems like excitement. Dallas finds it slightly terrifying.

“I know. I need to book an appointment with an OBGYN to confirm if it’s true,” she says, fingers carding through her hair as she paces around her apartment.

She tries to calm her erratic heart, but it’s no use. The more she thinks about being pregnant, the more panic fills her every thought.

“Hey, June bug, it’s going to be okay. I love you, baby,” he wraps her in his arms and kisses her forehead.

“It’s not okay! I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be. A baby will change everything,” Dallas pulls away, too panicked to think about anything other than the fact that a baby could ruin everything.

“What’s so wrong with you being pregnant? We’re married and we’ll be living together next school year,” he points out, eyebrows dipped down in confusion.

“Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth? We just got married! We should be enjoying our time as newlyweds, not worrying about children. Children that will take our time away from school! Children that will take me away from my clothes and children that will take you away from hockey,” Dallas stresses, her hands flying out at her sides to convey her clear point of view on the situation.

She’s passed the point of staying sane, she’s too worried about their futures. She stares into Nick’s eyes, daring him to counter her argument even though he can’t.

“We can work around those things. If anybody can do it, it’s us. I’ve said those words to you when you were hesitant about getting married. I meant them then and I mean them now,” he says, voice eerily calm.

The girl walks up to him, placing her hands on his chest. She hopes the beat of his heart can help calm her down.

“This isn’t the right time for us to have a baby,” she says in the simplest way. Her hands move to the sides of his face to make sure his eyes peer into hers.

His eyes aren’t the normal, ocean blue. They’re like stone, dark and void of anything.

“I don’t know what to say,” he mutters.

“Say you support whatever choice I decide to make. If I’m pregnant, I can’t promise that I won’t seriously consider getting an abortion. At least just understand why I’m making the choice I decide to go through with,” Dallas’ bottom lip trembles when he stays silent for too long. His support is the most important thing to her at this moment.

“What can I do to convince you that we should keep the baby? I get that it’s ultimately your choice, but we’re married. That isn’t just your baby,” he points to her stomach, and this is when it hits Dallas.

This is very very real. She’s pregnant and she’s lost at a crossroads. Even though she wholeheartedly knows that if she keeps the baby, she wouldn’t be doing it for herself. And for once, she doesn’t know what to say to her husband.

-

Dallas waits with a bated breath, eyes zeroed in on the screen. Nick’s hand is clutched in hers, his eyes also focused on the screen.

There’s no heartbeat pounding through the silence and there’s no black and white blob popping up.

“Okay, Mrs. Moldenhauer, it appears that you are not pregnant. It’s very likely that you had a defective test. False positives aren’t rare, but they also don’t happen often. If you don’t have any questions, then I’ll leave you to get cleaned up and you’re free to leave,” the doctor says.

She feels her shoulders fall in relief, she’s so happy she could cry. Dallas doesn’t notice at first, but Nick is quick to pull his hand out of hers.

“I don’t have any. Thank you so much,” she says and hastily cleans herself up when the doctor leaves.

She lets out a breath she felt she was holding in forever. Her eyes return back to their usual shine and she can’t stop the relieved smile from taking over.

Nick stays silent, walking out of the room before Dallas can even button her pants. By the time she makes it out, Nick is already walking out the front door and heading towards the car. She’s not naive, she knows he’s upset. However, there’s really nothing to be upset about anymore. She’s not pregnant so their problems are solved.

“Nick!” She shouts after him.

“Are you happy you got what you wanted?” He asks, voice harsh.

It makes Dallas flinch.

She takes a moment to process his words, eyes blinking in shock.

“Jeez, Nick, you’re acting like I was actually pregnant and got an abortion,” she snaps and jumps into the driver’s seat of her car.

“Same difference. You didn’t want the damn baby, so I know you’re just so fucking happy to not be pregnant,” he snaps back, making Dallas’ blood begin to boil.

Her face is red and her chest heaves, desperate for some type of soothing air.

“I’ve given you all of me, Nick! I gave you my time, my heart, I gave up my last name in order to take yours! How can you ask that I give you this ONE THING when I’m not ready?” She shouts, too overcome with anger to think about what she’s saying, or how it's being perceived.

“You make it sound like you had no choice but to marry me. If you truly didn’t want to marry me, then you shouldn’t have, Dallas! Do you honestly think I’m ready to have kids right now? Because I’m not, but I was willing to try and to work hard for our family. I was willing to go all in with you, because I love you and I eventually want a family with you. You just thought about yourself, and I understand because it’s your body. I’m your husband, though. Would it kill you to have any consideration for my feelings or for the things I want? I would’ve taken care of my baby- even if it meant you leaving us behind and me being a single dad,” he unloads each of his thoughts.

Dallas can’t help the way her tears roll down her cheeks. It hurts to even fathom a thought about Nick being a single father to their child. It absolutely kills her that Nick would think that she’d leave them behind.

“You can drop me off at my dorm. I need to think about whether or not we should continue with our marriage,” Nick whispers, the words burning his throat.

Dallas whips her head over to him, but quickly refocuses on the road ahead. She’s left in silence. Well not complete silence. She can hear the labored breathing coming from husband and the way he sniffles after his tears loudly smack against the leather interior of the car.

Her stomach twists and turns, but she forces the bile down with large empty gulps.

“Nick,” she searches her mind for the right words to say, but she doesn’t know how to fix things without causing more damage.

“I’m sorry, Dallas. I’m sorry if I’m too much for you,” he apologizes when he doesn’t have to.

Dallas shakes her head repeatedly, her hand coming up to wipe away her tears. A stuttered gasp rips up her throat as she starts to sob. His words cut her open and leave her out to dry. Their distance becomes stark when he doesn’t even reach out to console her, but she honestly doesn’t think she deserves it anyway.

a/n: Some rough waters for the newlyweds…

[boltupbitches]

Today's the Day - Justin Herbert

Sequel to One Day at a Time

Justin knew his game was off. He could feel it. It wasn’t just the painful left-hand injury indicating so, but the way his brain couldn’t stop thinking about Alex who was back at his house in Irvine, likely watching the game along with his mother who insisted on staying with her since she was so close to her due date. 

In two weeks, Justin would finally meet his daughter, Layla Grace Herbert. Every day since finding out about Alex’s pregnancy has been an emotional rollercoaster for him. One filled with a lot of excitement, anticipation, and fear. The fear on some days was stronger than the other emotions. Not because he was afraid of losing his time for himself - no it was fear of messing up.

He was scared of failing. Scared of not being there for Alex or Layla. He was scared of Layla finding out how he treated her mother once upon a time. He was scared that Layla might find something innately wrong with him and not want him to hold her, feed her, or rock her to sleep.

He didn’t realize how irrational those fears were until Alex found him crying in the shower one morning after he was working out in the gym. He didn’t realize Alex had come to check up on him, having heard his whimpers when she peaked in the bathroom to ask him a question.

He had confessed then, while wrapped in a fluffy robe she handed him, what he felt.

He was surprised when Alex wrapped her arms around him, cradling him against her bump as he cried into her shoulder. He had relaxed against her, leaning into her warmth as he calmed down.

“Justin, the one thing you should know is that Layla is going to love you so much when she gets here. Just as you will love her the same. And about our past? That’s a conversation we’ll worry about years down the road when it gets here. Right now, let’s focus on getting through this birth, okay?” Alex smoothed her hand through his soaked strands, brushing them from his eyes.

Justin was thinking about those words while he watched the D-line scramble to target Prescott. 

Today’s game was going to shit. So much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to stay focused for a few moments. His hand was throbbing badly and his neck hurt from the tackle earlier in the game. Yet, he couldn’t concentrate for long because his mind kept wandering back to Alex. He wished he could call her and ask how she was at that moment. 

Lately, she was having false contractions and he hated leaving her alone. Once the doctor put her on bed rest a few days ago, Justin struggled with leaving the house and going to practice. His own mom had to step in and fly down to look after Alex since she had the vacation time to do so. 

“Bro.” Justin blinked for a moment. “Bro!” He felt someone shake his shoulder and he came to, blinking quickly and staring at Keenan. “Justin, I been calling your name. What’s up with you today, man?” The older man looked concerned.

Justin blinked again before shaking his head slightly, “Sorry.. It’s just that Alex is due soon and today, before I left, she was suffering with false contractions again. Her doctor advised that she stay on bed rest and call if there is no improvement. Which makes no fucking sense. I told her she needs to go to the ER so we can be sure it’s not the real thing, but she’s certain her OBGYN knows best..” He frowned.

Keenan smirked at that and nodded his head. “Listen, my wife was no different. Anytime I suggested anything or disagreed about something she’d gladly remind me who was carrying the baby and who the expert was between me and the doctor. Is she good though? Her due date is soon right? Y’all are expectin’ a little girl?”

Justin nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his arm as he thought about Alex giving birth without him there to support her. “Yeah. In the next two weeks. But we think it’ll happen sooner. My mom’s there with her right now at our house, and Alex’s mom is planning to fly down when the baby is born. Her work schedule doesn’t let her have off so often. With Alex moving down here with me during pre-season, it’s really just been the two of us.”

“Y’all on better terms now?” Keenan asked as he observed Justin’s expression.

Justin grimaced and looked down for a moment before looking back up with a slight squint under the sunlight. “We are. I mean, we’re friends and we’re co-parenting…”

“But you want your lady back?” Keenan finished for him.

“Yeah. I guess I never got the chance to ask her officially to be my girlfriend before I blew that to shit… Right now I don’t want to lovebomb her with that shit. So, I’m just satisfied that we’re living together, she’s letting me help her and provide for her, and that the baby is going to be healthy in a two-parent home even if we’re not together.” ‘Yet.’ He finished in his head. ‘Not yet, but we will be together again someday.’

“Take one day at a time, bro. That’s all you can do.” Keenan tapped him on the back. “Alex is a kickass girl. She sees what you’re doing. Keep at it and y’all be back to being loved up together in no time.”

Justin’s face turned a little red as he laughed a bit at that. “I hope so!”

They didn’t get the chance to continue on about it because the defense was coming off the field and it was their time to get out there and play.

—--

They had lost 20-17 at home.

The team’s morale was low. The locker room was tense. Justin was packing his stuff away after speaking to the media, his face grim and his head kept low to keep from making eye contact with anyone.

A couple of his teammates tapped his shoulder and back in solidarity as they passed by him. He appreciated it, but after today’s game, he just wanted to go home to Alex and take his mind off football for the next day or so until he was due back for training. 

Just as he had finished up packing the last of his stuff in his duffle bag, his phone started vibrating and he immediately dug it out of his pants pocket and hastily accepted the call when he saw his mom was the caller.

“Is Alex ok?” He asked immediately, not even greeting her.

He had stopped what he was doing and waited with bated breath for her answer.

“Hello, mom. Thanks for calling. I hope you’re well,” his mom started sarcastically, “to answer your question - yes Alex is fine. We’re at the hospital now and she’s being admitted. Get down here, but don’t speed!” His mom warned quickly, knowing he was going to cut her off and take off for the hospital.

“For real?” Justin asked in disbelief. “You guys are playing a joke on me are you?”

“Justin Patrick Herbert! No, I am not joking! The OBGYN is on the way to the hospital and Alex’s water broke at the house during the end of the game. We just got here a little bit ago.”

Justin hoisted his bag and sped past everyone, weaving between people as he hurried to get to his car, ignoring the calls from others. “Why didn’t you take an ambulance?”

“Justin.. She was fine. She didn’t want to go in wet clothes so she took a quick shower, got dressed and I drove her there. We got the diaper bag and all the necessities. Just get here.” His mom said, exasperated with her son’s hard-headedness.

“Right, right. I’m leaving now. Love you. See you soon.” He hung up as he tossed his duffle in his car and got in. He pulled up the address of the hospital on his phone and drove off immediately, not wasting any more time.

He just prayed he’d make it in time.

—---

And he did. 

Alex was preparing to push, having dilated enough, and was ready to get it over with as long as the epidural was lasting in her system. Holly Herbert was god sent. She held Alex’s hand and stuck by her, giving her tidbits of knowledge from her own time raising three kids.

Justin was escorted into the delivery room and almost cried at the sight of his mom dabbing a cold wash cloth on Alex’s head. He didn’t know what he’d do without either woman in his life.

Alex made eye contact with him and weakly smiled, the nerves showing on her face as she waved him over.

Justin approached her side quickly, careful to be out of the way of the nurse’s fretting around the room, preparing it for delivery.

His mom gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “Stay with her. I’ll be waiting out in the waiting room.”

He nodded and smiled his thanks to her, his eyes going back to Alex who was staring up at him with tearful eyes. “Hey..” he greeted weakly.

“Hey.” She said back with a chuckle, “It’s almost time. She’s almost here.”

“I know. It’s.. it’s unbelievable.” Justin marveled at the reality of that statement. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?” He asked her as he took a seat.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m good. All drugged up and ready to go.” She joked. 

“They give you the good stuff?” He teased.

“The best they had to offer. Can’t wait to see the bill for it all.” she joked back.

“Let me worry about that, Alex. You focus on you and Layla. I got the other stuff.” He promised, stroking her hand that was resting in his. “You got this.” 

“I know. You’re here so we’re ready to go now.” She smiled back.

Justin opened his mouth to say something, but the doctor had interrupted them to announce it was time.

Justin listened to instructions and stayed next to Alex’s side, keeping an eye on her expression and letting her squeeze the living hell on his non-injured hand as he watched her push with all her might. Even with the pain-numbing medicine she received, it was still a challenge.

Justin felt like he was to blame for that a bit. Layla was after all going to be a slightly above average-sized baby and Alex was not the tallest of women. 

Yet, she championed through it all and Justin watched in complete shock as Layla Herbert entered the world, screaming loudly for all to hear within the room.

He never experienced love at first sight before, but as a newfound father, the moment his eyes laid on his newborn daughter, his heart was a goner. She was everything to him and more.

He didn’t realize he was crying until the nurse tapped his arm and asked, “Would you like to cut the umbilical cord, dad?”

He nodded dumbly and approached his squirming daughter as the doctor instructed him where to snip the cord. 

He was worried for a brief moment that it would cause Layla pain, but the nurse saw his hesitation and reassured him. “She’s okay, dad. She’s just cold, wet, and angry we disturbed her nap with momma.” 

Justin nodded again, still not able to coherently form words, and snipped the umbilical cord.

He was certain, although still in shock, that he’d never forget this day as long as he lived.

—--------

Things had settled a bit. His phone was going insane with family, friends, teammates, and all sorts of other people congratulating him or wanting to talk.

His mom took his phone and shut it all down immediately, informing him that his publicist would be helping her field the questions at this time. He just needed to worry about his newborn daughter and Alex.

Justin's hands trembled as he reached out to gently cradle the back of Layla's head. She was wiggling slightly in Alex's arm, her tiny face scrunching in displeasure at the cool sensation of the room. Justin made a note to ask the nurse to turn the room temperature up a bit.

He looked up from Layla to the tired and tear-stained face of Alex, who looked up at him as well, a smile pulling at her face. They stared at one another in that moment, neither saying a word, but communicating just enough through their gaze.

"Thank you." Justin whispered. "Thank you so much, Alexandra... I.." He was at a loss for words, stopping to blink away the tears as he felt his heart swell at the sight of his newborn daughter in the arms of the love of his life. 'I love you.' He wanted to say in that moment, but he didn't want to ruin the moment if she didn't feel the same.

'Coward.' Hos conscious accused against him, 'You're nothing but a coward.'

"I love you." He blurts out in a rush, tears flowing now. "I love you so much and I love Layla. Thank you for bringing her into this world, Alexandra."

She stared back, equally teary-eyed as she smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes making him feel like he was enveloped in her love. It was hard to explain beyond the strong blooming sensation taking over his chest and spreading throughout him. “I love you too. So much, Justin Patrick Herbert. Even when you piss me off and don’t listen to me, I still love you whole-heartedly.” She hiccuped.

He gently leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, careful to not squish a now-sleeping Layla. Alex returned his kiss eagerly, not wanting their moment to end.

Justin pulled back and leaned his forehead against her’s. “I never imagined this would happen to me. I never considered kids before you… before this. But I’m so glad it happened. Thank you, so much Alexandra.” He repeated his thanks. “I can’t believe we made her.” He marveled at the baby in how lover’s arms. “She’s perfect.”

“She is.” Alex agreed. “Although she’s very pushy like her daddy.” She teased him with a smirk. “I barely got my boob out of my gown when she was attempting to latch on and feed earlier.”

“Ah, yes. I can relate to that.” He joked. “I too am angry when hungry.”

She gently shoved his shoulder. “You’re so lame.”

“But I’m lame for you.” He countered. “Only for you.” He promised.

She knew what he had meant. Since the pregnancy discovery a few months back, Justin had been hypervigilant of Alex’s health and activities. He had hired her a nutritionist, and searched for the best OBGYNs in not only Eugene but also Los Angeles. He set up a nursery in his home in Eugene, helped set one up in her mom’s house where she was staying at the time, and had taken a few trips down during the off-season to Los Angeles with his brothers and dad to build a nursery in his home there.

He kept in contact with Alex regularly, going on walks with her, taking her grocery shopping, and even joining a pottery class on weekends with her.

She knew he was serious about rebuilding their relationship - this time the right way and this time more healthier than their situationship like the last time. 

She saw it and was thankful. As time went on they grew closer and closer. When preseason started, they agreed that it would be best if Alex stayed with him in Los Angeles as she got closer to her due date.

Justin remained steadfast in taking care of her and keeping up with his commitment. Each day, Alex found herself loving him more and more. Even when they disagreed and got angry. 

Justin stopped dating months ago and continued to make it clear that he wanted a proper relationship with Alex. One they could build long-term and show their daughter.

Looking at it all now, he knew he was one step closer to that goal. Work still needed to be done, but in that moment of tired, euphoric bliss, he could only thank God for Alex’s healthy pregnancy and Layla’s health. The game today? The issues at the facility? What critics had to say? None of that mattered to him right now.

It could wait for another day. Today’s the day he finally got his family.

[arvensimp]

your father should know, pt. 2

Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.

arven x reader, nsfw content, pregnancy, angst, and stupid miscommunications

[part 1]

thanks for your patience waiting for this part!! also thank you to my beautiful betas for helping me <3

~

You're very grateful to Nemona, for having her nearby back when the doctor first confirmed your pregnancy. As excitable as she is, her Type A personality proved pretty handy in the moment. Yes, she got you home safe and sound, but she was also able to get appointments scheduled for you right then and there for whatever choice you decided to make moving forward.

You were hoping to have Arven with you to help you make a choice on what to do, but... Well, he has other things to focus on, and you're not going to begrudge him that. You won't let yourself think about it any further.

So you sit at your kitchen table with two different appointment cards in front of you to see your OBGYN's office. One is for a termination, the other is to go over...whatever you'll need to do if you decide you don't want to go through with the former appointment.

You have to cancel one of them. The fridge thrums behind you, a monotonous white noise that you wish you could focus on instead of the task ahead.

You press your forehead into your fingertips.

Okay.

Can you do this?

You're a champion of Paldea. One of the most beloved figures of the Pokemon scene in the region. You're powerful, with financial security to spare to be a single mother.

Can you be a mom?

Well...you feel like your Pokemon love you well enough. You love them like babies. Obviously a human is different. Especially if it's yours and...well, yeah. You think you can be a mom.

Lastly then, the question becomes: do you want to do this? At the end of the day, no one is forcing you one way or another. That's one blessing, at least, about being abandoned. Not abandoned. That's one blessing of being independent. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.

You think... You think you've been thinking about this for a long time, as you have all the other questions. You do want this. You want to have a baby, your own sweet little one. They'll be so cute. They have to be, given their parentage.

…You try not to dwell on that part too much, but it's a little difficult.

Is it wrong to carry his baby without him? What if he doesn't want a child out there? Well. No. He must not care. If he did, he'd have said something. You don't have to worry about this being a betrayal of trust on your part.

Moving forward, you only need to worry about betraying the trust of the tiny life growing within you.

And...well, that thought gives you pause.

You finally allow your fingers to linger featherlight over your abdomen. You're nowhere near showing, nor can you feel anything substantial or physical there, but... You feel something.

Attachment. Devotion. Loyalty.

You don't know if this little thing is even the size of an oran berry yet, but... You've got a fierce love for it already just after thinking about it a little bit.

If your mind wasn't already made up, that would have made the decision for you.

You’re a mother now.

In the morning you call your OBGYN and cancel the tentative appointment to terminate. You'll be by later in the week to go over needs and expectations.

-

The automatic doors to the league slide open with a swipe of your access card, and stark white greets you. This isn't an easy conversation, and it's one that you can't put off for much longer. Beyond the fact that you'll start showing soon, Nemona has been chomping at the bit to talk about the baby at work and with anyone who'll listen. She's just so excited to be a tía, and if you don't tell La Primera soon, then you won't have control of the news when it eventually breaks.

You sit in the chair opposite her desk, feeling entirely too nervous, your hands clasped in your lap, thumbs twiddling. "Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today, Geeta." You start.

"Absolutely." She responds with her usual, impassive smile. "How can I be of service?"

"I, uh. I need to give you an advance notice of..." You swallow. "Of some need for medical leave."

Your boss tilts her head just slightly to the side, her massive mane of hair shimmering like an oil slick in the florescent light with just the smallest movement. "Oh?" You still can't read her true emotion well, but she's projecting the idea of concern. "Is everything alright?"

You will yourself not to touch your abdomen as you had been doing absent mindedly more and more often as of late. The habit grew on you more quickly than you'd expected. "Yes. I just, uh. Well... I'll be having a baby in a few months, and I know I'll be out of commission for a while."

"I see." Geeta's eyes flick almost imperceptibly down to your hands. Truth be told it's a movement that you would have missed if you hadn't spent countless hours learning to read her for the slightest tells through her battling. You feel a flush burn through your cheeks. Should you start wearing a ring?

"Congratulations and thank you for letting me know." Geeta is smiling at you again. "I completely understand. I'll see about having HR send you all the necessary paperwork, so we can get you all sorted. If I remember correctly, we offer a few flexible plans for expectant parents. Just choose whichever suits you best, and we can go from there." She's already turned to her computer and opened up an email, likely to the HR rep.

"Thank you," You reply, breathing a small sigh of relief. This really wasn't as painful as you were expecting.

"Just... One thing." Geeta adds, not looking back at you from her computer until she continues with a sigh. "We're going to want to keep you away from participation in field research tasks, the Ace Academy Tournament, and Championship testing for a short while."

She raises a single gloved hand in time with your cry of "What?!"

"You and I both know you are more than capable of holding your own, but..." She sighs. "Battling can still be dangerous, and we both know that Paldea still isn't the most well-known for its love of Pokemon. We're still building the league up. You know I trust you, but Arceus forbid something...unpleasant were to happen while on League business..." She pauses, and you nod, already resigned.

"I understand, Geeta. Better safe than sorry. I'd hate to hold the League back in any way at all." It feels weird saying it, but it isn't a lie? Firstly, you obviously don't want to hurt your little tamato berry (that's apparently how big it is now!), but also you genuinely wouldn't want anything to be associated with the League on the off chance that the unthinkable happened. "So... What will you have me do?"

Geeta leans forward, resting her chin in her gloved hands with a frown. "We've always got more paperwork."

-

The rest of the week is spent working closely with Geeta to wrap up your current research assignments that you owe to Jacq. There's nothing terribly dangerous or strenuous in what he'd had you doing, but...

"Are you serious?!" He nearly shouts when you give him the news. Jacq adjusts his glasses and eyes your body up and down in a way that would make you feel far more uncomfortable if not for the fact that you know he's very clearly looking for a bump, examining you in that way that only scientists seem to do without shame. 

"Yup..." You tell him, shifting awkwardly under his stare.

"Well, congrats! Who's the lucky dad?" He asks, clapping your shoulder jovially. 

You swallow. This has been easier to tell your doctor. Jacq is a friend. Your old teacher. You know him.

He picks up on your silence and lets his hand drop from you, going to scratch the back of his head uncomfortably. "Ah... Sorry about that! Anyway," He moves on quickly, turning to the board with his notes. "It's no big deal! You've given me plenty to work with. I can definitely just do data analysis for a while... And maybe one of the other champions can help me with some of the Area Zero research we're looking to do..."

Your heart squeezes. You're usually the one who gets sent into Area Zero. Most other champions don't have the constitution for solo trips or are too busy with other assignments.

You sigh. "Sorry, Jacq. It won't be forever though?"

He smiles back at you warmly. "Oh definitely! Don't worry about it, really! And congratulations! I'm super excited for you. Lemme know if you need anything, okay?"

You give him a smaller smile in response, still not feeling great about it all, and head to the door.

"Definitely."

You haven't even made it back to the entrance hall before you hear another familiar voice.

"Ah! Well, if it isn't one of our most illustrious champions."

"Director." You steel yourself and greet him with a nod.

Clavell catches up with you quickly. "It's been a minute since we've had you in the halls, hasn't it? To what do we owe the pleasure?" He asks, gesturing for you to follow him as he walks.

"Um. Yeah... It has," You say, moving at a bit of a faster clip to keep up with the director. "I was just checking in with Jacq on the latest for his research." 

"Is that so?" He says in that kind way that somehow also feels like he knows more than he's letting on.

You laugh a little nervously. "Yup! Just a check in..." Does he already know? Who would have told him? Geeta? Nemona? That would have been an invasion of privacy, right? "I, uh... I won't be able to be out in the field for a minute, so..."

Clavell raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you, still walking. "Should we continue this conversation in my office?"

"Sure?"

It's strange sitting in front of Clavell's desk again, especially like this. You're not his student anymore, yet you still feel like you're in trouble or about to get a lecture.

"So you're stepping back from fieldwork?" He asks you, looking genuinely concerned. "Did something happen?"

"Well..." You wriggle uncomfortably in the plush leather seat. "I'm actually pregnant, and La Primera and I decided it'd be for the best if I--"

"Congratulations!" The director interrupts, rather uncharacteristically. "That's marvelous news. I hadn't even known you were in a relationship."

You look down. "Yeah..."

From your peripheral you can see Clavell adjust his glasses on his nose. "So the father...?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat. This wouldn't be quite as hard if not for the fact that you had just gone through it with Jacq, and you still feel pretty raw about it. "He... Um. He doesn't seem to want to be involved, I guess..."

Clavell clears his throat. "I see... Well. I hope you know you have every resource here at the academy at your disposal, should you ever need anything."

The lump sitting there just above your vocal folds get impossibly tighter, so you just nod, squeezing your hands into fists on your knees.

Clavell tsks softly, standing and moving around. When he offers his spread arms in a hug, you take him up on it.

He won't tell if you happened to cry a little bit.

He's dealt with struggling single parents in his office before, and it's never easy.

-

So you end up working office duty with the League.

It's quiet, mostly, but the offices are nice. Larry gives you the low down on everything you need to know and then leaves you alone. You go to either him or to Rika if you have any questions about certain forms or which things go where.

All in all it's not bad. Not...exciting. Definitely not your preferred way to spend the rest of your life, but... Well, you know it isn't permanent.

Plus, as you get bigger and start having to walk less and waddle more, the ease of a desk job is kind of nice. Far better than riding a dragon at least.

You're sitting at your desk one day when the most delicious smell wafts through the office, and it nearly gets you drooling.

Whatever it is... You...you have to have it. You want it so bad it almost makes you want to cry.

What the fuck...

With a sigh and a bit of a grunt you stand and peak out the door to your office, following the smell to the break room.

Larry spots you from his seat at the table almost immediately, looking up at you from beneath his massive, bushy brows.

"Good afternoon." He shuts the tupperware containing his lunch. "I apologize if the smell was a little strong. I didn't intend for it to be. I can move outside if--"

"No!" You interrupt, entirely too loudly. "It smells really, really good actually." You swallow, eyeing the container reverently. "Super good. Uh... What is it?" Can I have it, can I have it? Let me have it, I want it, I want it, I need it NOW.

"Oh." Larry opens up the tupperware once more, and you actually feel the sting of your mouth salivating anew. "Just some grilled rice balls. Remember the ones from the gym challenge? Same ones, extra lemon."

"...Oh..." Did you lick your lips? You don't know. You may have. All you know is that the food there sounds...so good.

Larry calls your name in his usual dull monotone, breaking you from your craving trance. "Would you like some?"

You're in the chair across from him faster than you care to admit, and Larry smiles a small, tired kind of smile at you.

From then on, he seems to make a habit to bring along extra food to work. He keeps a pint of ice cream for you in the freezer too, just in case you have a day where things feel bad. He says ice cream can usually help with that sort of thing.

In fact, not too long later, he imagines you might be having one of those days. Larry isn't really one to pry. He likes to come in, do work, take his 15 minute break, work some more, take his lunch, work, take another break, then go home. But...with a pregnant lady in the office, he can't help but secretly fret just a little bit. Not in a weird way or something, but he keeps an ear out, just in case.

So when he hears soft sniffling coming from your office one day after you'd come back from some appointment or other he's a little nervous. He doesn't actually want you talking to him or crying on him or something... But you're clearly upset. Not upset enough to just go home, so it can't be that bad, but...

He goes back to the break room, grabs the ice cream and a spoon, sets them both outside your door, knocks gently, then leaves.

Ice cream should help.

That said, he still bristles when you inevitably knock on his door a few minutes later, the spoon in your mouth and the pint of raspberry cheesecake ice cream in your hands.

"...Thank you..." You say miserably around the metal in your mouth, eyes cast to the floor.

"No problem. ...Is it helping?" Larry asks, trying to focus on the spreadsheet he's working on. Stupid pivot tables.

"Yeah..." You come in uninvited and sit in the seat across from him. This isn't really what he was hoping to deal with, but it's fine. He can listen.

Except you don't talk. You just sit with him, slowly spooning more of the treat into your mouth. Eventually Larry hazards a look at you. Your eyes are rimmed red, but you don't look too terrible, honestly.

He sighs but it doesn't sound agitated. "How can I help?"

Now that you've been prompted, you reach into your pocket and reveal several tiny squares of paper, lining them up on his desk.

"Look!" You tell him, the sound coming out kinda wet and sad.

They're...ultrasound photos?

"Uh... Very nice?" Larry asks you.

"Aren't they beautiful?" You hiccup around the spoon.

At that time Rika just happens to be making her afternoon rounds, when she picks up on your whimpering and storms into the office.

"Hey! Is this geezer giving you a hard time, Mama?" She asks you affectionately, rubbing your shoulders.

"Come on now," Larry says, exasperated, as you shake your head.

"I'm just being silly." You tell her, gesturing to the pictures. "They did a little photoshoot today." The sentence is punctuated with a loud sniffle.

Rika scoops up the lot and overdramatically coos over them. She doesn't seem much like one for kids herself, but she's been very nice to you since you've been put on desk duty. She asks how you're feeling regularly and offers you decaf coffee or tea whenever she goes to make some for herself. From time to time she also walks out of the building with you, just making sure you get to a cab safely.

"Yeah, I dunno entirely what I'm looking at, but I'm positive it's cute." She points to a particular splotch on a photo. "Like that? That's it, right? The little bun you got baking in there? Kinda looks like a clodsire!"

"Rika..." Larry interjects, glancing at you. Truth be told he can kinda see the clodsire-ish shape? But he's never actually been one to be able to read an ink blot test, much less something as complicated as an ultrasound.

You laugh. "Wanna keep it?" You ask her. "I had them print a ton."

Rika pockets the photo. "Hell yeah I wanna keep it. I'm betting this lil bean a'yers is basically gonna be the next Poppy, so I'm gonna be its biggest fan from before day 1."

You can't help but laugh again. "Thank you..."

Rika slides a photo over to Larry. "You're gonna be its fan, too, right?" She smiles wide and somewhat menacing, but who's to say if there's any real malice behind it.

Larry takes the picture gingerly from her. "Of course."

And for some reason that has you blubbering wetly all over again.

"Thank you both..."

"Oh, just eat your ice cream..." Larry tells you, and when he says it, it's not harsh or mean. Just kind of paternal, as if the treat will fix your hormones.

"C'mon, Mama," Rika tells you, helping you to your feet with a shocking bit of strength for her lanky frame. "I think Larry can only handle so many tears in one sitting. Let's go give a photo to La Primera, yeah?"

You nod and are led out of the office.

Only then does Larry give a sigh of relief.

He pins the little black and white photo up on his corkboard later. He can't tell anything about what's actually in it. Like what's a foot or a nose or something, but...well it makes him happy somehow. Something about the future and all that.

-

Rika's the first one who feels the baby kick. Nemona swore up and down that it would be her, but it just so happens that Rika's around when you're feeling those fluttery jumbles inside one day. You'd, of course, been feeling them for a while now, but no one else had been able to pick up on it, much to your... Well, you weren't sure if it was satisfaction or dissatisfaction. Up until now, your little potato had only been yours, but when someone else is eventually able to feel it...then it's not just yours anymore, is it? What a strange feeling.

Regardless, Rika had asked if you were down for a light match, just some training between some of your younger pokemon, parts of your teams that you were hoping to train up for the future.

"But La Primera..."

"The Boss told you not to take part in any serious battling. I saw your plan. I'm basically HR here, remember?" She shoots you a wink. "No pressure if you don't wanna, but I know I'd be itching to battle if I were you." It's true... Nemona's been taking some of your heavier hitters out for work outs from time to time, as had Dendra once, but you really miss being in the driver's seat.

You hum thoughtfully. "Lemme go through my boxes and think about it?"

"Sure thing." Rika plops down in your office chair, opposite your desk and starts playing on her rotom phone while you scroll through your boxes.

...You'd been thinking at one point about working out an all paradox team, but that's out of the question right now. You couldn't handle a crazy time-loopy volcarona if it got too wild.

There are a few water types you were thinking about training up, but that also feels unfair specifically to Rika who specializes in ground... Then something catches your eye.

An egg. You don't entirely remember when you'd put it in a box or where it came from, but the growing maternal part of you screams to let it come be part of the family, so you send for it along with a teddiursa you'd caught a few months back.

All in all, the battling itself isn't terribly exciting by your typical standards. You and Teddiursa barely know each other after all, and it isn't quite ready to lend you its full trust, but you know it has sass and spark. The two of you go up against one of Rika's younger wooper, not really battling to faint. Just to have some fun.

The shouting and excitement must do something for the baby though because it jolts inside you, knocking you off balance and kicking the air from your lungs. You stagger a bit, gripping your midsection with an unladylike grunt, and Rika dashes to you quick as a Cinderace.

"Hey hey hey, what's up?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just got sucker punched or kicked, I think? Here, wanna feel? That was pretty strong." It's such a bizarre experience you don't even think about the weirdness of asking Rika if she wants to touch you. She just takes you up on the offer, laying both hands on the roundness of your abdomen.

She stands still like that for a moment, then two, then three before you feel your baby wiggling around again, and her eyes go wide as a jigglypuff's. "Holy shit that's weird," She says with a laugh, pressing a bit against the feeling to see if she can get the baby to respond more. "Hey! You in there?" She says to them. "Seems like you might wanna battle some day. Well, don't let your Auntie Nemona know, kay? She'll never let you go a day without it."

The baby kicks solidly against one of her hands, and she laughs, pulling back.

"Kid's got fire! We like to see it!"

-

"The Kickening" as it comes to be known, kind of creates a silly sort of mock-rivalry between Rika and Nemona for who they think will make the best auntie/tía, which rises to a fever pitch between them when it comes to planning your baby shower. That said, you insist to the pair that you don't want to make any huge sort of fuss. Maybe a small party, no major gifts. You just need some essentials. Things like diapers, maybe some formula, and that's it. You feel like you've been a burden already, slowing down Jacq's research, not able to contribute to the league as you usually do, even unable to train your team as you want.

Nemona vehemently disagrees, but Rika seems to calm her down. "We should listen to the mama on this one." She throws a wink your way. "How about this, Nemona. Why don't I take our sweet girl out for a day of pampering instead?"

"Hey, what?" You and Nemona both cry at once, but Rika is already dragging you to the door, a grin evident on her features.

"C'mon... I'm sure Nems can see herself out."

And somehow it works?

Rika gets you out of the house that morning in your sweats and into one of those cute, trendy maternity stores that you'd sort of been avoiding because you were putting off buying new clothes for yourself when you knew there was still so much to buy for the baby... But then again you also hadn't been buying terribly much on that front either, having only just completed your research and created the list of which products you want.

So you get squeezed? Actually not squeezed. Actually comfortably fit! Into a nice flowy dress that makes you look and feel super cute. Your reflection smiles back at you from the mirror, and you look down to your bump which looks very comfortable and snug as a bug in the shapewear you've got on beneath the dress. You do a little swish for yourself, admiring the way the fabric flows a bit. The skirt of the dress isn't terribly over-the-top flowy, but it's got that nice amount of swing to it.

You feel pretty. Not that you have felt particularly bad lately, but... Well, you hadn't thought much about yourself. You haven't had the time.

Before you leave the shop, Rika also buys you one of those popular L&D dresses that you can wear in the hospital rather than a drab and shapeless gown. It's apparently got all the bits and bobs and holes and whatever that you'll need to...have a baby and look cute doing it? You're not totally sure, but the dress looks nice enough, and the fabric feels soft and cool on your fingers.

Next up on your little day of pampering is a pre-natal massage at a spa. You try to tell Rika that this is way too much, that you can't accept something so fancy, but she just laughs and pushes you forward, tipping your massage therapist before you even go back to undress, telling the woman that you're "a very important woman to the region."

Your therapist is incredible, working away tension that you hadn't realized you developed in your shoulders and lower back. She speaks softly and kindly, with one of those voices that you might expect to hear in an ASMR video. She doesn't even care when you accidentally moan a little bit when she worked out a particular knot in your shoulder that you hadn't realized was bugging you.

By the time you're back on your feet, you feel like you might actually have grown 2 or 3 centimeters.

You waddle back out to Rika with a blissed out smile on your face.

"That good?"

You just nod.

"Good. We're not done though."

Next thing you know you're being taken to a local birthing center where they're starting up a session of Lamaze classes.

Truth be told you've been interested in taking classes like these but were too nervous to sign up since...well, you don't have a partner.

Rika slips a companionable arm around your shoulder.

"Feel free to say no to this if you don't want to, but one of the tenents of their practice here is advocacy for the birthing person in L&D, and I thought you might like that? I can be with you every step of the way, too. If you want, 'course." She sniffs casually.

"Like...you'll take the class too?" You ask, wincing. She's really okay with that?

"Hell yeah. Only if you want though. There's absolutely no pressure. Yeah?"

And because she's Rika, ever casual, you know she means it.

You nod.

"Yeah. This...this should be good."

And it is! It's only an introductory class, and you'll be back over for the next few weeks to learn more, but it feels good to be learning something in a group setting.

You also wouldn't say this if you were prompted, but it's nice not to feel alone. Sure, Rika isn't your girlfriend or your wife, but she makes for a great partner, solid and steady as the ground, funnily enough.

The two of you leave class, arms linked, laughing over what the instructor told the class about stupid things that dads say in the delivery room. 

"Are you here to seduce my wife?" Rika says in a mockingly deep voice.

"Darling, the term is induce." You reply in a similarly silly voice, your tone wavering with the effort it takes not to giggle

"Well, either way, I'm not so sure I like it!"

Conversation falls back to light and easy topics from there as you make your way together back to your place.

"You really didn't have to walk me all this way home, y'know," You tell Rika as you unlock the door.

"Eh, it's fine. Gotta make sure you get home safe and all that." She replies, reaching over you to prop open the door for you to enter once your key leaves the lock.

"Yeah, yeah, precious cargo and all that. Come on in. At least have something to drink before you go."

You flip on the light to your entryway and living room space.

"SURPRISE!"

You screech (and truth be told you might even pee a little, but no one has to know that part).

In your living room is nearly everyone you care about in the damn region, decked out in pinks, blues, and yellows with super gaudy and over the top baby shower decor littering your entire apartment.

Nemona tackles you about as gently as a pregnant woman can be tackled.

"Don't be mad, don't be mad, don't be mad! We all just wanted to celebrate you and the baby, okay?!" She's biting her lip and hopping up and down excitedly.

"Are you guys for real?" You ask, and you're not totally sure what emotion you're feeling in the moment.

"Of course," Rika tells you, slinging her arm over your shoulder. "We all love you, y'know?"

"Actually," Larry speaks up from his seat on your sofa, where he's wearing a soft pink party hat with a tiny yellow puff ball. "I'd like to maintain a friendly working relationship here, but I was outvot--" 

Hassel elbows him jovially in the gut. He's already crying. "Don't worry aboud him." He sniffles, "We're all jus' so habby for you!" Brassius is on his other side, patting his knee.

And maybe it's Hassel? Maybe it's just the entire day's kindness and goodness, but the tears start flowing then and there. Big, ugly sobs wracking through your chest even though you're smiling and thanking everybody.

Nemona and Rika are of course hugging you, but a few others join in on the group hug as well, including Hassel, Salvatore, Saguaro, and Katy.

When you seem to have calmed down a bit (at least enough to form sentences again), Nemona takes your hands. "Here. Lemme show you what we did."

She guides you to the spare bedroom that you kept telling yourself would be the nursery for the baby...and inside... It's like Christmas morning for how many gifts litter the place. It's no longer your spare room for your camping equipment (you'll need to ask Nemona where she or whoever else put that). It's...it's a nursery now.

The crib that you wanted is there, assembled and everything. The car seat/stroller combo you'd been eyeing is also sitting in a corner, and there are so many other gifts, you're not quite sure what to do.

"Do... Do I open them now?" You ask, blinking back more tears. "I need to find stationary!"

"Already gotcha covered," Nemona tells you, notepad in hand. She assigns herself the task of noting down who has gifted you what for thank you note writing purposes later.

As it turns out, the crib is a gift from La Primera herself, lovingly assembled by the leaders of Team Star who leave not long after you thank them profusely. Penny also throws in a state-of-the-art baby monitor that she promises to show you how to use later. The car seat/stroller combo is Nemona's gift.

"I'm telling you, I want to find an engineer or someone who can figure out a way to create a baby side car that we can hook up to Raidon! But no one will take me up on the offer..."

"Yeah, Nems... I believe you..."

Hassel gifts you with a gorgeously refurbished, antique rocking chair with a beautiful swirling design etched into the sides of the arms and the rockers, while Brassius made a tiny mobile that hangs above the crib with little sunkerns and applins dancing in a circle.

"Special commission for a special champion." He tells you with a wink. "Not entirely Avant Garde, but we'll start the baby's art education young."

Larry goes next, opting to give you his gift, so he can politely excuse himself. "I know they're not very fun," He says with a shrug, depositing the massive box of diapers in an appropriate place. "But you'd probably have more fun shopping for fun things than I would anyway."

You give him a quick side hug and release him from his social obligation.

Saguaro's gift, a fancy pink high chair, is actually in the kitchen next to your dining table, near all the pastries that Katy brought for you and everyone. He shows you all of the different adjustments and things on it, but also makes sure that you know where he put the assembly guide which has instructions as well.

At this point, Salvatore is nearly bouncing with excitement to give you his gifts. Firstly, his wife wanted to be sure you got a little baby saucer for the baby to play in, but more importantly. "Baby sign language is the future!" Salvatore tells you, thrusting the book into your hands. "You'll be able to communicate with one another so much sooner than you could with words! Isn't that wonderful?"

Jacq also ends up giving you a ton of baby books, as well as a small bookshelf "To grow their library!" Included are some of those fabric page books that can't be torn or plastic books that can be taken in the bath, as well as some with buttons or finger puppets included. It's pretty clear that Jacq had a blast going through the children's section at the bookstore.

When you open up the gift from Tulip (which was also hastily signed as being from Dendra and Miriam as well) you're a bit confused. "Thank you so much. This is all...skincare and body care?"

"Of course," Tulip tells you in that beautiful twinkling voice of hers. "A good mother is one who takes care of herself, too. You can't pour from a cup that's empty. Remember that, okay?"

You nod and make a silent promise to take her words to heart.

Lastly, Director Clavell approaches you with two different gift bags. The first contains a few books on parenting that he claims were very useful to him "back in the day," and the other....

"'Love Clive?'" You ask with a smile. Clavell adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

"Of course. Your good buddy Clive sends his best regards and wanted to let you know to, ahem, 'Stay cheugy.'"

That gets the younger crowd absolutely roaring with laughter, much to Clavell's confusion, but he lets it slide.

Inside the gift bag is a tiny leather jacket, perfect for a little rocker baby. You stick out your lower lip as you run your thumbs across the tidy stitching. "Oh my goodness..." You hold it tight to your chest. It's so small, and you don't want to cry again, but Hassel's loud sniffling is making it difficult.

Clavell coughs into his fist. "A-actually, you know what, Clive might want to return the jacket..." He tells you, reaching for it.

"What, why?" You ask before noticing that several faces in the room have turned red from folks holding back laughter. You look down at the little garment again and turn it over in your hands.

On the back is a massive sewn-on patch with a winking brown coil and word art that stretches above and below it reading 'Poo Monster.'

"O-Oh no!" You cry, shaking with laughter as the rest of the room bursts out with you.

Clavell, for his part, looks suitably mortified, mumbling about how he had no idea about the art on the back, but you insist it gives the jacket even more charm, not daring to let him take it back.

The rest of the party goes well enough with games and snacks. Dendra and Nemona get a little too intense when it comes to competition, but it's all in good fun.

At one point, Miriam takes you aside and starts drilling you a bit. Nothing mean, but she wants to be sure you're prepared for what's to come in L&D.

She's about to launch into another horror story when Tulip stops her. "I think you've scared our darling champion enough for today, Dearest. This is a party, after all."

Miriam looks almost appropriately apologetic. "Sorry! Was I really scaring you? You know it's totally normal if you--"

Dendra butts in, pulling her girlfriend away. "That's enough for now, ossu!"

You definitely have questions for the teacher next time you and Rika go to class, but you push (don't say push) the thought to the back of your mind for now.

The evening winds down with just you, Nemona, and Rika lounging around. You're sprawled across your sofa, trying not to fall asleep in front of company, a cookie from Katy's patisserie propped on your tummy. Rika is in an armchair, scrolling through social media, and Nemona is tidying up off and on, trying to leave you with as little mess as possible.

"Was it a good surprise, bestie?" She asks you from the kitchen where she's just finished putting away all the extra food you've been left with.

"Yeah... Thank you both. Really. I didn't think I'd want something like this, but it was really nice..." You're teetering on the edge of tears again, so you try to keep from saying anything else.

"Of course, babes," Rika tells you, not looking up from her phone. "You know you got us here every step of the way."

"Yeah!" Nemona shouts from where she'd gone into the nursery to pick up wrapping paper. "Fuck Arven! Who needs that asshole anyway!"

"Arven?" Rika asks. "So that's the sperm donor's name?" She shrugs. 

But you can't help crying at the mention of his name, not when you're already so emotional after everything that's happened.

Rika looks up to see you blubbering pathetically and stands. "Awww... C'mon now. You don't gotta do that. It's okay." She kneels by you, gathering you as best she can in her lithe arms.

"I-It's not his fault!" You whimper. "He needs to go live his life... I-I just wanted to be a part of it... I wanted him to want to be part of mine too..." You put a hand on your tummy. "Ours..."

"Hey!" Rika tells you, holding your wrists. "Fuck him! If he's too dense or too cowardly to want any part of your incredible life? That's his loss."

By now Nemona's made her way back into the living room. "What? Awww no, bestie! Don't cry! I'm sorry I even mentioned him! For real! He's absolute trash! Don't even worry about him and the stupid Kalosian floozies he's probably hanging out with!"

You sob all over again.

"Nemona!" Rika hisses.

"What?"

In the end, the pair of them end up calming you down with stupid PokeTube videos and more pastries.

They spend the night with you, just in case you need anything, but you can't bring yourself to tell either of how much you're craving a sandwich...along with the person who makes them for you best.

-

The last week or so leading up to your due date is, in a word, frustrating. You feel overly warm, overly sensitive, overly achey, and overly oval. You expected phantom contractions, and you were fine with them at first, but at this point it's almost as though you've been having light-ish menstrual cramps off and on for two weeks. That, on top of everything, else just has you nearly constantly on edge. After a day or so of the pains, you called your doctor who took you in, just in case. She assured you that things were normal, that you still had some time left to bake, and let you know to come back when the contractions became more intense and closer together or if you felt something was off.

So you waddled off and went back to life as best you could.

Key words there being "as best you could."

At this point though, you're frustrated to the point of tears, taking walks along your neighborhood, eating spicy foods, bouncing on a yoga ball, doing basically whatever you can think of to speed up your little potato's birthday.

You even drop by the League, but Rika stops you at the door, turns you around and walks you home.

"Absolutely not." She says. "Go rest. Go officially be on maternity leave or something. You're going to pop any second now, and you know it."

"Please, Rika," You plead. "I can't sleep, I can barely nap. I just need... I dunno. I don't even know what I need!" Stupid hormones get you crying again. "I just wanna be done! I don't know what to do with myself... "

"Hey, c'mon..." She tells you, pulling you in for a gentle hug. "You know better than anyone that you're almost there, right? Just... Just wait it out a bit longer. Your little bean'll know when they're done cooking."

"Yeah..." You sniffle into her shoulder. "You're right."

"I know I am," She says coolly. "But also I'm here for you to cry on and complain to any time, okay? Keep me in the loop on every little detail."

The two of you stand like that for a long moment as you try to will yourself back to calmness and go back home. Unfortunately...

"...Rika?"

"Yeah, Mama?"

"I think my water just broke."

-

As it turns out, you'd basically been in labor for the past little while and hadn't realized it, so by the time you and Rika get to the hospital, things start moving quickly.

She has the wits about her to text Nemona to grab your things from your apartment, which were thankfully already pre-packed and waiting in a bag, and within a few (okay, maybe more than just a few) hours, you have a sweetly bundled little baby boy in your arms, dozing softly.

The hospital put him in a little purple hat, but when you initially saw him, during that first moment where they brought him to your breast for that first moment of skin to skin contact, even with his tamped down hair still wet with everything, you could tell... He has two-toned hair.

The resemblances don't stop there, you think, but everyone else who sees him (at least with his hat on) thinks he's your little doppelganger. You're not sure. He looks just like Arven to you, and as much as that makes your heart ache, you're also so overwhelmingly filled with love, adoration, affection, warmth, relief, and utter devotion to this little baby.

You name him Basil. It suits him.

Even though you imagine your number is still blocked on his phone, you text Arven a picture when you and Basil have a moment alone together, just the two of you, later on that day.

He's here. I don't know if you care, necessarily? But... I love him so much, and I don't understand how you couldn't, so I thought I should share.

There's a near immediate response.

Message unable to be delivered.

[thezombieprostitute]

Constant Change - Part 2

Summary: You and Nick must navigate the new territories of pregnancy and parenting while managing the continued hostility from Clark Kent.

A/N: Reader is AFAB, in her late 30's, early 40's. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy issues. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Your “retirement” party comes too quickly for your preferences. You knew your bosses were being pressured to get you out of your job but you didn’t think they’d push for you to leave in just a week. You worked for them for so many years but because of one rich asshole you’re given such a short amount of time to say your goodbyes and make sure your coworkers can cover your job until a replacement is hired. You’d genuinely hoped to train whoever they hired but that’s not an option. 

The one solace was that you got out before your pregnancy started showing. You weren’t sure you could handle your coworkers’ well-intentioned, but unwanted, advice. You weren’t necessarily a private person but the number of stories you’ve heard about complete strangers rubbing pregnant bellies without permission and criticizing everything the woman does has you feeling shy. You haven’t announced anything yet, especially not to your family, though you get the sense Nick is bursting to tell people. 

He went with you to your first appointment with the OBGYN. He was attentive and caring. You saw the telltale signs of him making mental notes whenever the doctor said things to look out for. You got the impression that if he could carry you everywhere he would, just to make sure you didn’t overexert yourself. But he is respecting your wishes to keep your pregnancy quiet for now and that’s what matters to you.

Well, part of you does enjoy how doting and overly attentive he can be. It feels nice to be taken care of so completely sometimes. And it really feels like there’s nothing Nick wouldn’t do for you. You really need to make sure you don’t take advantage of that. You’d hate for him to feel like you were using him or were ungrateful for all of his care. 

You leave your office for the last time, carrying a box full of your personal items and some gifts from coworkers. It feels strange to know you’ll never work here again. There are so many changes happening in such a short time it’s making you feel off kilter and you start quietly crying as you wait for Nick to pick you up.

Thankfully he doesn’t leave you waiting for long. He pulls the car up to the curb and immediately jumps out to get the box from you. He’s about to make a comment about you not carrying anything heavy when he sees your tears. Holding the box in one arm, he reaches out and gently caresses your face, wiping away some of your tears. He looks intently into your eyes, silently asking if you need him to do anything. It’s another thing you love about Nick, he waits for you to tell him what you need. He never presumes he has all the answers. 

You lean into his touch and hug him as you let your tears keep falling. He holds you close with his unburdened arm. You can’t see him looking around and giving death glares at people who give you odd looks. They quickly look away and leave the two of you alone with you none the wiser. 

When you’re ready you gently pull away from him, “we should probably get going home. Don’t want you to tire your arm holding that box.” You smile and give a little chuckle at his incredulous expression. “Not that you can’t carry it forever if you really wanted to,” you assure. “I just want that arm strength saved for holding me.” 

He breaks out into a smile and kisses you, “I love you, too.” He quickly puts your box in the backseat of the car before opening the passenger side door for you. You used to try to tell him he didn’t have to keep opening doors for you but have long since given up, opting for a little ‘thank you’ kiss on the cheek every time he does it. Part of you wonders if that’s why he keeps doing it.

“I really miss lamb curry,” you mope over your bowl of oatmeal with minimal flavorings. “Can’t wait for the morning sickness to subside.”

Nick smiles sympathetically, “I can’t wait, either. It’ll be one less thing we have to worry about for you. But the dietary changes are helping, right?”

“Yeah. My stomach still gets upset, of course, but it’s nowhere near so…volatile.” He nods as he continues eating his own oatmeal. “Also, Nick, I just…I want to thank you.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Thank you for not eating or drinking foods I can’t have. At least not in front of me. I can’t tell you how much easier it is to deal with this drab diet because you’re not flaunting your ability to eat whatever you want.”

“It’s not a problem my Lady,” he assures. “Besides, I still get plenty of my favorite flavor when I eat you out.”

You giggle and heat rushes to your face. You’ll never get over just how into you this man is and how seriously he takes your pleasure. It’s so much more than you’ve ever gotten before.

“We do still need to talk about what to do for a wedding,” you think out loud, looking at the beautiful ring Nick had gotten you. It was so beautiful, the stone's color making you think of Nick's eyes. Whenever you'd gotten anxious you looked at it and thought about his eyes looking at you with nothing but love and it calmed you down. “I suppose we’ll have to tell our respective friends and family members at some point as well.”

Nick covers your hand in his, “whatever you want to do, we can do. You want a grand wedding, we’ll make it happen. You want a civil ceremony, we can do that too. You have full say in this.”

“You know I appreciate your opinion,” you counter. 

“My opinion is that, so long as we end up married, I don’t care how it happens.” He brings your hand to his lips to kiss it.

“Maybe not a civil service,” you ponder. “I don’t want to go back to the office any time soon, even for such a happy thing. But I do like the idea of a small event. We’ve both had enough attention to last a lifetime thanks to that live-stream.” 

“Thank you, again, for hiding my face as much as you could during that,” Nick interjects. “Pretty sure it’s a big part of why I was able to keep my job instead of being relegated to office duty. And you know I can’t sit still for that kind of work.” He smiles at you, eyes filled with love and mirth. 

“Any follow up from Teach or Barber on the case?”

“Kent’s lawyers have finally convinced him he’s fucked up by suing us,” Nick chuckles. “But, of course, it’s too late for him. Barber’s working on avoiding getting me drug into the spotlight. At the same time, DA Rhodes is looking to enjoin the suit with the criminal trial Kent’s facing for attempting assault and stalking.”

“What would that mean for us?”

“We’d be saying that our defense against Kent’s claim is the result of his criminal trial. I’ll be honest, it’s not my favorite. I don’t want either of us on that witness stand for a second longer than we have to be. If it all works out, we won’t have to enter the courtroom at all.”

“That would be lovely,” you admit. “If Kent is willing to settle, maybe we can make a restraining order part of the settlement.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking this to a jury trial, get a bunch of his dirt out in public, but that would put me in a difficult position.”

“So we push for settlement and use the money for our honeymoon,” you joke.

“That actually wouldn’t be so bad of an idea,” Nick kisses your hand again. “I’d love to take you anywhere in the world.”

“Maybe a second honeymoon after…” you rub your belly. “After things get a little more settled?”

“I promise,” Nick brings you in for a kiss.

Tag List: @alicedopey ; @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory ; @rebekahdawkins ; @terry2227 ; @texmexdarling

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.2k words // masterlist an: i'll add tags later tonight after work, but I wanted to get this posted before i leave <;3 tw: brief mentions of abortion, language

The bathroom counter was entirely covered with various types of pregnancy tests. After the first four showed positive, Aelin had gone back to the pharmacy and bought every type they had available. HCG tests that were no more than skinny bits of paper, typical plastic ones, digital ones. Not a single one had given her the negative she was looking for. Paper results from an emergency room visit yesterday morning showed the same thing, only this time it was there in her blood. 

She hadn’t gone to the ER for pregnancy results— that would have been silly. She went at the urging of Lysandra because since finding out a few days ago, her anxiety made her symptoms even worse. Aelin hadn’t been able to keep down liquids of any sort and dehydration quickly set in. A quick prick of a needle had fluids and anti-nausea medication flowing into her bloodstream. Discharge paperwork referred her to an OBGYN and had a script written for Zofran, a stronger nausea medication so she could keep food and water down. It had become her best friend.

The thought of an abortion had crossed her mind, even in the moments before Lysandra had asked if she wanted to keep it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be a mother— she did. But it was a dream that happened after she was more settled in her career and in a fully committed relationship. Not while she was opening the second office and had so much hard work ahead of her, not when she barely knew the father. 

It wasn’t an idea she could fully entertain without talking to Rowan first, to see where he stood on it. But she already knew what her choice was, even if he didn’t want the responsibility. She would keep it. As much as her anxiety felt like walking on the wooden slats of a rickety rope bridge over a gaping canyon, a deep love was already blooming in her heart the size of a sesame seed. It would only get bigger with each passing day, that what-ifs of it all dancing behind her eyelids while she slept. 

What are you up to tonight? I’m in Doranelle and if you can swing it, I want to see you

She shot off the text and stared out her office window while she waited for a reply. It had been a lie, she wasn’t in Doranelle. But she needed to see Rowan and talk to him about everything as soon as possible. With a mind full of racing thoughts and unanswered questions, of the half truths she’d given him about her life… the only thing that could truly calm her nerves was talking it through with him. 

All yours after 6. 

A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she glanced at the time— 4:30– then rubbed at her temples. It was going to be a long night. 

~*~ 

It was the first time Aelin had been to Rowan’s house in Doranelle. All of their time had been spent at her apartment so far. In fact, she had only been over to his apartment in Varese a single time, just long enough for him to grab something before they went out on their downtown adventure. 

The apartment was nice, of course, but didn’t seem to hold a candle to the house she was parked in front of. When pulling down the long and winding driveway, her eyes darted between the numbers on the house as soon as it appeared and what she had entered into her GPS. Rowan’s SUV in the driveway assured her it was the correct home, but… 

How the hell did a man on a coach’s salary afford this house plus a luxury apartment in another major city? 

It was new construction, a contemporary home made of dark wood and ebony stone. It was nestled back off the road and surrounded by towering oak trees in every direction. Long curtains were drawn inside, hiding which rooms had walls of floor to ceiling windows. She imagined him laying on his couch after a long day with the curtains open, gazing out at the setting sun beyond the trees. 

It was beautiful. The tranquility of it was amped up to a thousand when she opened her door and stepped out. Somewhere in the tree line a stream trickled along, the soft sound of moving water enough to calm her nerves if only a little. 

Almost as soon as her toes touched the bottom step that led up to the porch, the front door swung open. Rowan grinned at her, a dish towel in his hands while he dried them. Scents of garlic, onion, rosemary, and other spices wafted out the front door. Thankfully her stomach only growled in response and didn’t have her bent  over the railing to empty her stomach into the bushes. 

“Hey, you,” he said softly, meeting her halfway across the porch. Long fingers tilted her head back so he could press a sweet kiss to her lips. 

“Hi,” she whispered back, standing on her toes to kiss him again. Rowan took her hand and led her through the door and toward the kitchen. Even though she offered, he insisted she sit at the bar while he finished dinner. 

“Wine?”

“Water, please.” Thankfully it didn’t raise any questions about why. He filled a tall glass with ice water and slid it over the counter to her before turning to resume dinner. 

“How was your day?”

“Long,” she sighed, nervous fingers drumming against her stomach. One of her legs had taken to bouncing on the wooden footrest and her breaths became shorter, more frequent. Nausea swirled in the pit of her belly but this, she knew, wasn’t morning sickness. Aelin didn’t realize she was biting her lip until she tasted metal, nor did she realize Rowan had moved to her side. 

“Hey,” his bent forefinger guided her face to look at his, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” Those four words, four measly syllables were all it took to douse the room in cold tension. 

“Okay.” Rowan nodded, taking a moment to turn the burners on the stove down. He guided her into the living room where he sat her down on a plush gray couch that she seemed to sink into. 

“Can I just—” Aelin leaned forward and kissed him softly, then sat back with her legs folded beneath her. As if on instinct, her hands folded in front of her stomach protectively. 

“You’re starting to frighten me.” He murmured, hand resting on her knee to give her a comforting squeeze.  Aelin wanted to laugh, and almost did. Instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up one of several images of her bathroom counter and handed him the device. “I’m pregnant.” 

Rowan was silent while she swallowed down her emotions, forcing everything to stay buried under an exterior mask of calm. His green eyes stared, and stared, and stared at the picture, fingers zooming in on the dozens of tests on her counter. 

“Is it mine?”

“I–” Aelin tempered her frustration. It was a valid question. If she were in his shoes, she would have been asking the same thing. “Yes. You’re the only man I’ve been with in the last year.”

It was a little embarrassing to say out loud. The last few years had been busy and she’d seldom made time for a personal life. It was exactly the kind of thing her mother was referring to when she meant that Aelin had a knack for having absolutely no work-life balance.

“How? We used protection. You’ve told me before you’re on birth control.” More valid questions that she herself had voiced to Lysandra in the minutes after taking the first few tests.

“My guess is that it broke? The condom, I mean.  I haven’t missed a single dose of my birth control. I triple checked.” Aelin’s knee began to bounce, that anxious ocean ready to swallow her up whole from not knowing the outcome of this situation. She hated not knowing things, not being able to predict how a person might respond. 

Locking the phone, he placed it on the sofa between them, a muscle feathering in his clenched jaw. Rowan didn’t meet her eyes as he stared forward and tensely asked, “Are you doing it for money.” 

“What?” She sputtered, immediately standing and crossing the room from whatever bullshit that question had been. Of all the ways she had anticipated him reacting, this had not been on the list. All of the nervous energy roiling through her quickly turned to something hot. Like some struck a match and threw it on a puddle of kerosene. 

“Are you doing it for my money?” He repeated, voice flat as he finally looked up at her. Rowan didn’t move from the couch as he stared at her, all the softness she was used to on his face gone. Any of the mirth and joy in his eyes she’d become accustomed to was gone. 

The butterflies he usually filled her stomach with had turned into white-hot rage pouring through every vein of her body. Aelin’s face was hot, eyes stinging as she did her best to force her tears away. It had been a long while since she’d become so angry that she jumped immediately to crying about it. 

Something had changed in Rowan’s face, too, as he looked at everything written across her face as plainly as if she had shouted at him. His eyes softened a little, his hands clenching against his thighs. 

“Why the fuck would I want your money?” She didn’t let him finish before saying, “Ask me what my last names are.” 

“You have more than one?” Confusion had his brows pulled together and wrinkles stacked up his forehead. Rowan stood, taking a handful of steps toward her. Aelin retreated with her fingers pressed against her stomach. “Are you married or something?”

“Ask. Me.” She demanded of him, voice and hands shaking. Tears started to fill her eyes and spill over, her skin so warm they were cool as they ran down her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had gone crimson, evident in the way they burned beneath her hair. It was the exact opposite of how she had felt the first time she saw those two pink lines on that pregnancy test. A sea of wild, unchecked flame lived within her, pumped through her heart, burned the back of her throat, her cheeks, her ears. 

“What are your—”

“Ashryver Galathynius. My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” Each of her names was punctuated with that fire, her entire body trembling with so many emotions at once. As much as he was into the stupid fucking sport, he would understand what it meant.

And he did. Rowan’s entire face went slack, those wrinkles disappearing from his brows, his jaw popping open. Even his arms fell motionless to his sides. 

“As in— shit.” 

“My grandfather and my father,” she added for extra clarification, so that he knew it wasn’t a distant connection. It was direct. “Ask me again if I want your fucking money,” she spit the word at him like it burned her mouth to say it. It kind of did. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that his reaction would be so callous and cold, that he would accuse her of getting knocked up for money. What fucking money? Why the fuck would she go after a teacher’s salary when her own checking account was so loaded she, and her child, would ever want for anything? 

“Aelin–” Rowan took a step forward, hand raised as he reached for her. Aelin held up a single finger and shook her head, recoiling from him.

“Don’t.”

“I need to–”

“You need to go fuck yourself, Rowan.” Her footsteps chased her like thunder rolling in for a storm, punctuated by the window-shaking slam of the front door. To give him one ounce of credit, he did follow her, but by the time he made it outside, she was already in her car, pulling a u-turn in his yard, and speeding down the driveway. Nothing but a cloud of dust remained in her wake.

In the rearview, Rowan’s form was blurry from her tears, his arms on top of his head while he watched her leave. 

~*~

It was late. Like, the bar had been closed for an hour already, late. The Neon Moon was empty, save for Rowan, Fenrys, Connall, Vaughan, and Lorcan. They had an off weekend, and a drink was desperately needed by all. When Rowan arrived at the bar half an hour before closing and pounded back enough drinks that it was almost alarming, everyone decided to linger until he started to talk. 

“Dude.” Fenrys poked his arm with an outstretched hand. The response was a slurred grumble in the old language that not even Lorcan managed to pick up.

“What’d you do?” Connall asked, bracing his arms on the counter. Rowan lifted his head, room spinning like he’d just finished doing ballerina turns. Aelin liked to dance. He hadn’t ever seen it but he could imagine her in tights and a leotard, a tutu around her waist. She probably didn’t get dizzy when doing turns. 

Nausea hit him in a wave and he took a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Closing his eyes made it even worse, so he kept them open and fixed on Connall’s face. Ballerinas did that, didn’t they? Focused on one spot so they didn’t get dizzy or fall out of their tight spins? 

As the nausea abated, he remembered holding Aelin’s hair back for her while she was sick a couple weeks ago. Neither of them knew it then, but she was pregnant. He wondered if she was still feeling sick all the time or if it was getting better every week. A frown took over his whole face, eyes dropping to focus on a dent in the counter. Someone had carved a heart there, and he wanted to scribble over it. 

“She’s pregnant.” Was all he managed to get out, trying his hardest to enunciate his words. Everyone went utterly still and silent, Lorcan moving to sit in the chair beside him. 

“Did she fucking–” he started, leaning his head down to try to look at Rowan’s face. The silver-haired man waved his friend off, shaking his head like an indignant child.

“I’m not drinking because of the baby. Or the woman.” It was true. Rowan had always wanted to be a father, it was a dream of his. Sure, it would have been nice if it happened in a more ideal way, but that wasn’t why he took so many shots as soon as he walked through the door. No, it was the look on her face when he coldly asked if she wanted money. The betrayal that slowly leached over her features, the way she bit back tears until she couldn’t anymore. “I monumentally fucked up.”

“That does usually lead to a baby,” Fen quipped, a sly smirk starting to appear on his lips. As quickly as it started to form, though, it vanished after a hard smack! against the side of his head, courtesy of Lorcan. The fair side to Connall’s dark coin groaned, blindly slapping his hand against his attacker’s shoulder. Another searing look from Lorcan had Fen’s hands falling back into his lap. 

“In what way?” Vaughan had leaned forward to see around Lorcan’s head while he spoke. The wood was cool against Rowan’s cheek as he laid his head on the bar, desperate to stop the spinning of the room. 

“She told me she was pregnant, showed me all the tests from a photo on her phone,” Rowan waved his hand toward his phone that he frowned at, “And then I asked her if she did it for money.”

“Oh, you bloody wanker,” Fenrys mumbled, shaking his head. The man in question was sitting up on the counter, legs dangling over the edge. His foot twitched like he debated kicking him in the knee. Rowan wouldn’t have blamed him. He deserved worse than that. 

“It’s a valid question.” Lorcan’s voice was sharp enough that Fenrys twisted his mouth to the side, eyes narrowed like he might disagree with him, but wouldn’t to avoid further physical injury. Instead, he offered a shrug of his shoulders and kept his mouth firmly shut as Rowan laid his head back down. Something was damp beneath his cheek, cooling his whiskey-hot skin. 

“It really wasn’t. Not when she told me that Ciaran Ashryver is her grandfather and Rhoe Galathynius is her godsdamn father,” Rowan growled. His anger and irritation was pointed to no one but himself. “She doesn’t need my money. I’m pretty sure she still thinks I’m a soccer coach because she was absolutely mind boggled that I’d even ask her such a thing. I don’t even know why I asked, either. The fear of it all, of–”

“Her father is Rhoe Galathynius?” Lorcan cut in, and Rowan wanted to kiss his forehead for cutting off that spiral. 

“Yep,” he replied, the p sound popping more than it normally would. And her cousin is Aedion bloody Ashryver! How did I not see it? They look nearly like twins! They have the same face!” Rowan shouted, palm slapping against the counter between each revelation. Fenrys jolted, eyes widening as he slipped off the bar and an entire seat away. Rowan was too drunk to shoot him an apologetic look for coming so close to his leg. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out,” Connall said smoothly, grabbing an empty glass and filling it with water. 

“Are you telling me you fucking knew?” Rowan said through clenched teeth, lifting his head so he felt like he was seeing the room through a kaleidoscope. Despite the whirling of the world, he met his friend's gaze. A bit of mirth twinkled in Connall’s eyes, a match for the anger in Rowan’s own head on. Clearly Connall only had loyalty to his brother and himself, if he just threw Rowan to the wolves like that.

“I didn’t know her exact relation, I just assumed. They look too much alike to be anything else. Did I know she was a football princess? No, but she knew too much about the sport when you talked, I figured she was involved in some way.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Connall slid the water toward Rowan. “And she definitely doesn’t know who you are. Earlier this week she was asking me if the boys had any games this weekend because she wanted to see you but didn’t want to interfere with your coaching. She’s never pried about what you do for a living, always took it at face value and assumed you were being honest.”

“I want another drink,” Rowan grumbled.

That was the other thing, wasn’t it? Sure, she had been lying. But so had he. In that initial moment of shock, where he felt like history could be repeating all over again, he’d lost it. Deep down, he knew that wasn’t the case. How timid and nervous she was, how sick she had been, the evidence in the picture of dozens of tests covering her bathroom counter. Rowan had seen it all with his own two eyes and still taken the shitty, cold, asshole route. 

If he was being honest, at the time it felt like the easier road to take. Aelin clearly had a temper hiding under her skin, though. Those remarkable eyes of hers had glowed with the anger he sparked. It had been fire in her eyes, white hot and raging. Maybe it had been the light playing off the tears that welled in her eyes, making her eyes glitter, but he had never seen anyone quite so angry, or quite so devastatingly beautiful. 

That was the mother of his child. A stunning, spit-fire of a woman that it was all too easy to imagine a future with. A life with. Even before finding out about the baby Rowan had imagined ways he could make the long distance work when she went back to Orynth in a few months. Now, it felt stupid. A bomb had been detonated and it was entirely his fault. Because he was the bomb. Ruining everything good that touched him. 

Perhaps he should have been drunk when she delivered the news. Drunk Rowan would never have said that to her. 

“She’s so pretty,” he mumbled aloud, finger dipping into the puddle his ice glass made and beginning to write her name across the bar. Lorcan nudged his shoulder, shaking his head. Right. That was pathetic. Rowan Whitethorn was not pathetic. To prove it, he picked up the glass of whiskey Connall handed him and downed it in one go. 

“I can’t believe you asked Aelin Galathynius if she wanted money.” It seemed that Fen could no longer  restrain his smart mouth. His chest shook with suppressed laughter. “Hate to break it you, mate, but I’m pretty sure–”

“Fenrys,” Lorcan growled, immediately shutting the pup up. Even the laughter in his face was quick to die off. Drunk Rowan was grateful for it. Right now he was toeing the line of punch first, ask questions later. “Let’s get you home. We’ll start to figure this out tomorrow.”

Despite his words, Lorcan still sounded tense. Like he, too, was clenching his jaw with frustration. Rowan imagined it had to do with him not believing Aelin, thinking she knew and was chasing his money or fame. That didn’t make sense, though. Drunk or sober, it didn’t make sense for her to want his money or his fame.

Rowan’s mind wandered on the drive home. If she wanted the fame, it would be easy enough for her to get it on her own. Rowan had learned in the hours after she left that if she had wanted to, she could have been a socialite. She certainly didn’t need Rowan’s help.

Back when she attended matches there were hundreds of pictures of her cheering in her family’s suite, of her on the field offering the players high fives, of her family out to dinner. If it was fame she wanted, she already had a clear shot at it. Besides, she was already a national treasure to Terrasen. The following she on the Fireheart social media pages and her personal instagram alone was more than some of his teammates had. 

Money didn’t make sense either. She was on good terms with her parents and after minimal digging he discovered she wasn’t teaching dance and piano. Maybe she did sometimes, but recently her name and picture had been scattered through the headlines because she was opening a new office for her foundation that she founded, the Fireheart Foundation. There were already multiple locations throughout Terrasen targeting underprivileged youth, to enhance the art programs both in and out of school. Now she was doing it in Varese, her mother’s home city. 

Aelin didn’t need money. She didn’t need fame. It wasn’t about any of that, and he fucking blew it by being a coldhearted bastard.

“Thank you for the ride,” Rowan slurred to Lorcan, who was probably his best friend all things considered. Maybe he should tell him that. Of all the people in the world, Lorcan was usually easiest for Rowan to talk to. He seemed to understand him a little better than the others, even if they were all pretty close. Rowan decided then that if he ever got married, if he could fix this thing with Aelin, Lorcan would be his best man. Yes. That was an excellent decision. 

Rowan hauled himself out of Lorcan’s car, feet stumbling on the street. He barely caught himself from face-planting on the sidewalk, recovering by swinging himself around a street sign and throwing a mock salute toward Lorcan to indicate that he might have stumbled, but he was good. He didn’t need help. Rowan had this.

 His best friend looked at him drily, quirking an eyebrow as Rowan turned to walk to the door and–

Walked directly into the marble exterior of his apartment building. Double over, Rowan rubbed at his stinging face to ease the pain. A glance at his fingers told them there was no blood. Thank the gods he didn’t break his nose.

“For fucks sake,” Lorcan’s voice was suddenly a hiss in his ear, throwing Rowan’s limp arm around his shoulders.

“You’re really fast, y’know that? And tall. You’re gonna dislocate my shoulder,” He slurred, eyes focused on the ground so he could get one foot in front of the other. Lorcan told him to shut the fuck up and walk. Wisely, Rowan did. 

By the time Lorcan half-carried him up to his apartment and dropped him unceremoniously into bed, he was saying silent prayers to whatever god that would listen for him to be able to fix what he had so easily shattered.

~*~

“I know we’re anti-Rowan right now, but I want to know what my niece or nephew is going to look like.” Aelin gave her bestfriend flat look through the camera, but Lys merely shrugged her shoulders. The angle of her phone changed and Aelin knew she was on the hunt. Honestly, she should work for government security. The woman could find anything on anybody. “What’s his last name?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t ever find the right moment to tell him what mine were, and his just never came up. I never asked.” Aelin rolled onto her side in her bed, frowning at just how puffy her eyes were from crying the last several days. It was ridiculous. If he wanted to be a prick about it, fine. Aelin didn’t need him. It would have been nice, but… 

No. That thought was quickly tucked away elsewhere, somewhere at the back of her mind where it wouldn’t pick and poke at her sensitive emotions until she cried. 

“What did you say he does? A teacher?”

“Soccer coach in Doranelle. He doesn’t have social media as far as I’m aware. I’ve never seen the apps or anything on his phone.” Rowan didn’t give off social media vibes, either. It was hard to imagine him coming up with a witty caption for a vacation photo, or having the desire to post pictures of his life at all. 

“Rowan, Soccer, Doranelle. Lets see what that gives us,” Lys hummed, fingers flying furiously across the screen. From this point of view, Aelin had a great shot up her nose. If she wasn’t feeling so morose she would screenshot it and save it for a rainy day. “Oh my– Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

At her full name, Aelin propped herself up on an elbow, frowning down into her phone as she said, “What?” 

“Rowan Whitethorn. Google that and tell me if that’s him.”

“Why does Whitethorn sound familiar?” It both was and wasn’t a question for Lysandra. It was definitely tinkling a bell somewhere in her brain, the name. And as soon as she typed it in and pressed search, she understood why. “No fucking way.”

“That might be why he asked if you wanted money,” Lys said. Millions of search results came back. Photos, articles, interviews, the works. Thousands upon thousands of pictures loaded when she hit the images tab, and her jaw nearly hit the floor. 

Pictures of Rowan in a dark blue uniform with Doranelle’s logo across the chest, a number seven and his name across the back. Images of him from the side, his silver hair french braided with the rest pulled into a bun. There were pictures of him held on his teammates shoulders, of Rowan making a match-ending goal, Rowan squirting water into his mouth on the sidelines. 

“He’s got personal interest in the game, is all,” Connall had told her that first night. A vague memory of Rowan giving the bartender a flat look entered her mind briefly as she closed the tabs and looked back at her best friend’s face. 

“Why is the soccer world so incestuous?” Lys asked her, laughter in her voice.

“It’s not funny,” she hissed back, but there was no bite to it. Maybe it would be a little funny in a few days. There was no doubt in her mind that Aedion and her parents would find it absolutely hilarious. 

“The money thing makes sense now, though.”

“It does,” Aelin agreed, rubbing the heel of her palm into her eye. “But I thought what we had was different. Regardless… even if I had known about all of this I wouldn’t have thought he would react that way.”

“Maybe it’s happened before. Maybe you need to hear him out and let him explain.” 

She did and she knew it. The shift in his behavior happened so suddenly, had blindsided her entirely. It had to mean there was a reason for him to snap like that. It still pained her heart and soul, though. Even if he had the best reason in the world, it didn’t take away the betrayal and hurt she had felt. 

At the same time, she felt silly for feeling so upset. They barely knew each other. Of course he would be cautious of her motivations. It made sense. If it had been going on for longer, would his reaction have been more mild? Would it have been sweet kisses and promises that things would be okay? Did Rowan even want kids? Probably not, given the status he currently held in the soccer world. The man showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. A baby would just complicate that. 

“That baby is going to be the most beautiful fucking thing.” Lys may have been mostly talking to herself, but Aelin found her lips tipping up at the corners because it was true. It would be. 

Almost against her own will, her fingers pulled up Rowan’s text thread. He sent dozens of messages throughout the week. Most of them were begging for a conversation, asking if he could call her. Some of them from last night made no sense whatsoever, words strung together in a way that made her believe he was drunk. There were six in a row from last night in the old language. If she had been able to read around the typos, maybe she could figure out what they said. The spelling was so badly butchered, though, that some were different words altogether. Complete gibberish, utter word salad. 

Then there was the single one he sent her today that simply read: I’m sorry. For all of it.

There had been other apologies that requested the chance for him to explain, but none of them felt quite as barren and hopeless as this one did. Almost like he was ready to throw in the towel if she didn’t want to speak to him ever again. Though she was angry, it didn’t sit well with her. Maybe she felt a flicker of anger in her chest because he hadn’t been willing to fight for her for more than a few days, or maybe it was because she was frustrated he would stop because he believed it was what she wanted. Either way, she didn’t like it. 

It was then that she decided she would give herself a few more days. A few days to process the pregnancy, his reaction, her counter-reaction, all of it. And then maybe… maybe she would be ready to talk. 

[leafsbabe]

(This shall be kept vague so as to not jinx anyone, sorry this is so long, and I can’t write endings either)

Looking back, everyone is pretty sure exactly when you got pregnant. There was champagne and party after party and Nate and Sid and Nate and Sid. And then there was Nate and Sid and the next thing you know you haven’t had your period in a month and half and golly gosh darn it, what do you know? You’ve got four different brands of pregnancy tests from the pharmacy and they all say the same thing. Pregnant, about two months along.

You know that wasn’t the plan at all. Sid and Nate are still l celebrating even thought it’s been a month, Sid’s going back to Pittsburgh in a month and Nate back to Denver, and now with a baby tagging along, you don’t know where that leaves you. You’ve all talked about it, but in the abstract ‘hey, that’ll be nice to think about for the future’ way that apparently needs to be sped up to a now conversation. Who’s the father, how public is it going to be? Where do you get an OBGYN?

You go to the NHL store and spends a small fortune on express shipping a Penguins Crosby onesie and an Avalanche MacKinnon onesie, then they buy the smallest pair of skates available on Amazon. It’s all shipped to a friend’s apartment, less chance of being discovered prematurely there. It takes almost a week for all of it to arrive, but it does. You go to the doctor to confirm, and come home with at least 10 copies of an ultrasound showing your little bean. Nate’s box has the Crosby onesie, one of the skates, and one of the ultrasounds. Sid’s is the same, except with the Crosby onesie.

Its nerve wracking, waiting for them to notice that you’ve changed somehow in some implicit way that pregnant people must change. You end up waiting another two days to give them the boxes. They come home sweaty from a peewee practice that they host over the summer. Sid and Nate, for all that they are adults with serious jobs and responsibilities, can never say no to the kids, pulling off increasingly stupid and hard tricks just to win cheers and laughter from their young audience. They’re chatting in the kitchen when you plop down the boxes. It takes some cajoling for them to open the boxes, “you shouldn’t have,” and “I don’t need anything, I’ve got all I want right here,” falling from their lips.

They open the boxes at the same time, but it’s Sid who figures out what it means first. He looks up, eyes wide and glossy. “For real,” he asks, starting to choke up. Nate must have caught on too, because he’s also looking at you, wonder and awe in his eyes. “Yeah,” you say, tearing up yourself. “I know it’s not like how we planned, but I guess we celebrated a little too hard after finals.”

Both men stand up and wrap themselves around you. Given that it’s the height of summer, their embrace is too warm and sweaty, the humidity seems to hang in the air like a gossamer mist that puts a shine on everything it touches. “Don’t care,” Nate says, squeezing you and Sid harder. Sid hugs harder too for a second before loosening his grip and smacking Nate’s arms. “Is that too tight for the baby?” Nate loosens his grip too. “Oh shit, I didn’t even think,” he trails off, blushing. “What about all the.. you know.. bedroom stuff, are they like, ok?” Sid takes a step forward and ruffles Nate’s hair, long and sun bleached. “Idiot,” he says with a voice that can only be described as disgustingly fond, “Nathan, sex isn’t going to hurt the baby.” He pauses and turns to look at you. “Right,” he asks, pouting a little.

You laugh at them for a second. “Yeah, we’re good to celebrate all we want.” You lean in to Nate, pull him down and stage whisper “maybe this time you’ll knock Sid up,” and lean in to swallow his needy moan. Nate pulls you towards the bedroom, and you look back at Sid, whose face has flushed a lovely pink, standing there slack jawed and stiff. You reach out your hand and he takes it. “Bedroom,” Nate grunts and Sid follows.

little baby MacCrosby is going to be so fucking loved but I completely agree that Nate should knock up Sid next

[aubieinsanity]

I generally like to keep my Tumblr experience & blog a chill, fun place, so I won't often share posts like this, but I'm Going Through It right now (if the term "right now" can apply to a stretch of time spanning years) and wanted to share a personal story and some accompanying thoughts. This might be triggering or squicky for some people, so check the tags before going under the cut!

When you're young -- at least, when I was young -- every adult warns you about the dangers of having sex. You'll definitely get pregnant! You'll ruin your life! Never mind that proper sex education is leagues better than demanding abstinence and is far more likely to prevent teens from catching STDs or accidental pregnancies. There are so many TV shows and movies with teenage pregnancies or otherwise adult unexpected / unwanted pregnancies. So easy to get pregnant, but no one wants the baby! Wait -- I can sense your hackles rising -- don't worry, this isn't a pro life rant. Actually, I am desperate for more abortion rights in this country (US). But that's not what I'm on about right now. There's another side to this coin, you see, that almost never gets talked about.

Nothing prepared me. No one warned me. So many women and other uterus-bearers walk around every day bearing these silent burdens, and I had no idea how many of them were there, or that I would one day become one of them. I had... No. Fucking. Idea. how common miscarriage and infertility is. Without exaggeration, almost literally every single woman I know who has children or has tried to have children has had at least one miscarriage. Nothing you're exposed to when you're young prepares you for that. And no one talks about it.

But everyone talks about the flip side. Do you want kids? When are you going to have kids? Why don't you have kids yet? You should start that family; have fun trying! WINK! (As an ace person that one irritates me especially.) There's been increasing(?) awareness of why not to say those things to people who might not want kids, which is a great step in the right direction. Not everyone wants to be a parent, and that's okay! But you know who else doesn't want to hear those things? Someone who wants to have children but is struggling with miscarriage or infertility.

A few years ago, my husband and I decided it was time to start growing our family. Whenever discussions about children had come up in the past, I would always add on, sort of half seriously, 'Well, if I'm able to have kids,' knowing that struggles were always a possibility, but in the back of my mind not truly believing it would Happen To Me. You never think it will Happen To You.

We got pregnant on our first try. It just so happened that my two sisters and three of my closest friends were all also pregnant with their first child at that time. It was magical. I couldn't wait for my child to grow up at the same time as their cousins and my friends' kids.

I was also scared. Because both of my sisters had had miscarriages prior to their current pregnancies -- both relatively early on but still painful and devastating. I was so, so scared it would happen to me, too. I obsessed over statistics. Waited apprehensively for that first ultrasound appointment, reading that if I got to that point and we saw a heartbeat, the pregnancy was incredibly unlikely to end in miscarriage -- less than 2% if I remember correctly.

We made it. There was a heartbeat. I was flooded with relief. We put the ultrasound picture on our fridge. I went to a consignment sale with a close friend (one of the pregnant ones) for used baby clothes, picking out the cutest gender neutral gems I could find. One of them was a little dinosaur zip up with soft little spikes on the hood. Another had a cute cartoon s'more. My friend and I fantasized about our babies being friends.

A couple weeks later I started bleeding. I called the on-call nurse at my OBGYN after hours. I was panicking; I didn't know what to do. We decided to make an appointment for the next morning so I could get checked. My husband would come with me. That night I sat terrified on my couch, crying to him, "What if my biggest fear is coming true?"

I knew before the doctor told us. She was quiet for far too long while looking for that heartbeat. I don't envy that part of her job.

I barely made it to the parking lot before I started sobbing. It was a loss for my husband, too, but he was forced to play the role of steadfast support so I didn't crumble under the weight of it all while I figured out next steps. I grieve that time for him.

I elected for a d&c over waiting to miscarry naturally. I'd heard horror stories about the latter, and anyway, I needed to get on a plane in a week to attend my sister's baby shower. (...yeah.) Hospital called me almost immediately seeking insurance and billing information, before I even had instructions for the visit itself. Day of, the receptionist who checked me in was far too chipper. I hated her.

I took my car in for an oil change the next morning. Smiled and nodded at the mechanic.

You truly never know what is going on in a stranger's life. I think about that all the time.

Statistics betrayed me once again. 'Nearly all women who miscarry go on to have a healthy pregnancy.' There is still no child in my house. There have been countless pregnancy tests. A couple chemical pregnancies. Stretches of anxious waiting. PTSD. Panic attacks. Sobbing on the kitchen floor, in the shower. Expensive fertility testing. No answers.

That pile of baby clothes is still upstairs, with the pregnancy milestone stickers and the pregnancy pillow and the pregnancy nausea drops and all the things friends and family gave me that birthday when I was pregnant. It's with the used baby books I've collected and my old beanie baby collection. It's with the baby and toddler toys I've bought so that nieces and nephews and friends' kids will have something to play with when they visit, bought with the assumption that my own children will someday play with them. It's all in the room my husband and I have referred to as "the nursery" for three years -- though, in fairness, it often serves as a dumping grounds for household detritus. Sometimes lately I consider what else that room might have been purposed for.

It's a trauma I never expected. It's a trauma I wasn't prepared for. I was promised that, if and when I wanted to start a family, it would be easy. It would be guaranteed.

It wasn't.

I'm not sure what my exact intentions are for sharing this. Maybe it's a little therapeutic. After all, lately I've been watching all the women I was pregnant with the first time have their second kid, exposing anew the wounds that only scabbed over but never healed. Maybe I want someone who has gone through something similar to know they are not alone.

I realize there's quite a few adults on Tumblr who are childless by choice, and I absolutely support that choice. Maybe I want you to support the women in your life, because I guarantee more of them have struggled with this than you think. Support those who may not identify as women but whose bodies subject them to this same trauma. Support the men and other partners, too. It may not be their bodies, but it is still their loss, still their hurt. And...I want you to pause before asking someone about children. It's a common question, and it may seem like a harmless one...but there's so many reasons you shouldn't do that. This is mine.

Note: I'm doing okay. This isn't a cry for help or a request for advice. I have the support I need, and I have a plan. ♥️

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Picture is a Poem without Words

Chapter 19

It has finally arrived. It has been a crazy few months, and I have been chipping away at this chapter bit by bit during that time. Warnings: alludes to smut, and surprise, surprise: pregnancy. Please let me know if you want to be tagged for this (or any other story)!

Taglist:  @yungkvte @mcrmarvelloki @realm-of-azrael and @shootingthroughthesky0905 @mikeisthricedeceased m7ryoomm jovsse @kaylachloe

A few days had passed since the attack in Mexico, and Pacho had been in a foul mood. Diego and Blix had spent most of those days giving him space and trying not to upset him further.

One morning, Diego pulled Blix outside, away from all the guards and Pacho, who was pacing in his office talking to Miguel on the phone.

“Okay. Can we please talk about the elephant in the room here? When are you going to go see a doctor?” Miguel asked her.

“I keep waiting for a good time. It is a bit difficult to just leave when Pacho insists that I always have someone with me,” Blix quietly tried to explain, looking around.

“Waiting for a goo-? Honey, if you did that, you would be 5 months in by the time you would see a doctor. We are going today. Like. Right now,” Diego firmly stated, pulling her toward his car.

Blix blinked as she was essentially dragged to his car and shoved into the seat.

Forty minutes later, they were pulling up to a small clinic. Blix bit her lip nervously, staring up at the clinic. Diego softly encouraged her, stating he would be there the entire time. Diego held her hand as they walked up to the door.

Diego spoke with the receptionist, stating they had an appointment.

She looked at Diego with a raised eyebrow.

“You set up an appointment for me?” Blix quietly asked him as they sat with a clipboard of paperwork to fill out.

“Yep. Figured you would’ve chickened out. So, I got this setup for you and figured I just needed to be your support person for the entire thing,” Diego explained simply.

She smiled smally before turning to look at the paperwork and fill it out. Paperwork was finished and turned in swiftly, and they were left waiting. Blix tapped her foot softly, trying not to freak herself out with the ‘What if’s’ racing through her mind.

When her name was finally called, it took a moment for it to fully register in her mind. It wasn’t until Diego nudged her gently that she stood up and followed the nurse.

After the nurse took her weight, temperature, and blood pressure, noting it was a bit high, the nurse made her exit.

The doctor came in eventually, and Blix… honestly could not remember what he said. All she knew was that one moment, she was sitting in a room; next, she was being directed to a bathroom to pee in a cup. She did what she needed to do, washed her hands, and returned to the room where Diego was waiting, biting his nail a bit.

It felt like an eternity before the doctor returned with the results.

“Congratulations, Miss Lage, you are pregnant. I will have my nurse set you up with an OBGYN and get your appointments with them in place,” The doctor was almost too cheerful in giving this news.

Blix blinked owlishly at him, not fully registering what he said, “I’m what?”

“Pregnant. I assure you, the overwhelmed feeling is very normal,” The doctor attempted to reassure her as his nurse stepped in with paperwork.

“Here you are, the results and the best OBGYNs in Cali. Their number is listed at the bottom of the page. I am also sending you home with a list of prenatal vitamins you can pick up at this pharmacy. Once again, congratulations!” The nurse explained cheerfully to Blix and Diego.

Blix nodded her head, with a strained smile as Diego led her out. It was not until they were back in the car that it truly hit her.

“Holy fuck,” Blix breathed out, hands pressing against her abdomen.

As she sat there, looking down at her body, she did not notice Diego calling someone, nor did she notice the car moving a few minutes later. It wasn’t until they hit a pothole that it shook her out of her stupor.

Blix looked around, trying to figure out where they were going. She looked over at Diego, who held a very serious expression.

They soon pulled up to the offices of the OBGYN that was mentioned earlier.

“Did you… did you threaten?? A doctor into clearing out an appointment… for me???” Blix asked him slowly, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“What is it you Americans say on TV? I plead the fifth?” Diego questioned somewhat, waiting for Blix’s nod. “Yeah, I’ll never tell.”

“…You kinda did,” Blix mumbled as Diego stepped out of the car, running to open her door for her.

Diego held his hand out to her, wanting to help her out of the car.

“Diego. I’m…” She struggled to say it for a moment. “I’m pregnant. Not invalid or dying. I can get out of a car just fine… for now at least.”

Diego smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. Not gonna lie… I am a little excited about this.”

Blix returned his smile softly, “Let’s get this over with, he who threatened a poor doctor for this appointment.”

The two of them stepped inside, Blix trying not to comment on the fact that the lobby was very much empty and that the front desk nurse looked terrified.

They barely even said hello before the nurse ushered them into the back, leading them into an examination room.

Blix turned her gaze to Diego, giving him an exasperated look as the nurse trembled while asking her questions.

“Ma’am. Please take a breath. I don’t know what this fool said to y’all, but I promise you nothing is going to happen,” Blix attempted to ease the nurse’s nerves.

The nurse looked over at Diego with a small amount of fear, before taking a deep breath. She began to re-ask her questions but more calmly.

Blix answered them as best as she could and stuttered for a moment when asked if she remembered when her last period was.

“I honestly… don’t remember. My periods, even on birth control, have never been reliable,” Blix explained after thinking for a moment.

“Understandable. Dr. Garcia at the clinic ran a full panel on your blood and urine to confirm your pregnancy. We are going to see if we can see and hear the little bug, okay?” The nurse replied as she began to set up the ultrasound equipment.

“Alright, this is going to feel a bit chilly,” The nurse warned her as she began to put gel on her stomach.

Blix lightly flinched as it touched her skin. A moment later, the nurse took the ultrasound wand and began running it over her abdomen. Blix stared at the screen, not quite seeing anything but static in motion.

The nurse paused for a moment and said, “Well, ma’am. That little spot right here is your baby. And…if you listen closely, you will hear their heartbeat.”

The nurse pointed to a small, somewhat oval-shaped outline. Blix turned her head to the side, listening. She heard it a second later, the small beats drumming.

Diego had a huge smile on his face, “Pacho is going to be so happy.”

Blix felt a small amount of dread at that. Not because she didn’t think Pacho would be happy. However, there was someone within the organization that was giving up trade secrets. Enemies were closing in, and the danger was increasing with every month that passed as they got closer to the end of the deal.

The nurse took some photos, gave her a towel to clean herself, and set up her future appointments.

As they walked out, Diego was excitedly talking about all things baby.

“Diego. Stop. We are not saying anything to anyone. Not yet. Too much is going on right now,” Blix stated as the two of them got into the car.

“…then… when? When are you going to tell him? He deserves to know,” Diego was confused and somewhat concerned as he looked over at Blix.

“I don’t know. But I will tell him. I don’t plan to keep this from him. I just need to… wrap my head around it,” Blix felt overwhelmed.

Diego softly held her hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

“Okay. Sorry. I did kind of go overboard there didn’t I?” Diego gave a weak chuckle.

“No. I mean a little but you’re just excited. I never really thought I would be in this position,” Blix admitted staring down at her stomach.

“Understandable. I won’t overwhelm you by buying stuff or pushing you to talk to Pacho. However… Am I allowed to do window shopping for the baby though?” Diego asked, biting back a grin.

Blix chuckled, “Yes, you may window shop.”

The two of them drove home, talking about random things.

Pacho wasn’t at the house when they arrived; a guard mentioned he had left about 20 minutes earlier to meet with Miguel and Chepe.

That was how it was for a couple of weeks. Pacho would be home for a small window of time, before spending most of the day with Miguel trying to find whoever was betraying them. Blix caved a little and allowed Diego to buy a couple of small things for the baby.

The guards, she could tell, were concerned and somewhat catching onto the secret, especially as the morning sickness kicked into high gear.

Some of the guards, usually the older ones, flat-out asked her if she was pregnant. She would attempt to deny it, but most of them would shake their head and say, “Uh huh. Sure,” while smiling at her.

One morning, a younger guard came up to her and informed her that her presence was requested at Miguel’s.

She frowned at that but followed him to a car where Salcedo waited in the driver’s seat. The drive over was silent, as was the ride up the elevator to Miguel’s apartment.

She walked inside, glancing at all the men that stood in a circle. Miguel sat at his desk, with Gilberto talking on the phone’s speaker. Pacho and Chepe sat off to the side, speaking quietly.

Tension was thick in the air, and it only got worse as she moved to stand before Miguel.

“You wanted to speak with me?” Blix questioned bluntly.

“Blix. Always straight to the point. I’ve always appreciated that about you,” Miguel stated, staring at her.

“And you and your brother always drag things out with long-winded speeches. Something has happened, explain,” Blix said, not appreciating the look of scrutiny he gave her.

“Knife to the heart, this one,” Came Gilberto’s voice from the speaker.

Miguel explained in brief that the DEA almost caught him earlier that day. That Javier was part of the search team.

“Okay. And?” Blix raised an eyebrow.

“The brothers… are concerned that you are the leak. The spy little Lady,” Chepe spoke this time. “And while none of us want to suspect you, you have been acting rather odd, according to the guards.”

Blix blinked at him rapidly and looked toward Pacho, who refused to make eye contact with her.

“You’re… you’re joking. Me? The spy? Hilarious,” Blix shook her in disbelief.

She looked at each of their expressions, all of them grim. The men were a mixture of anger and discomfort.

“You’ve been disappearing a lot,” Pacho quietly mentioned.

“I’ve been with Diego? Ask him! I know you never doubted his loyalty to you,” Blix replied, hurt that he would even consider her being the spy.

Pacho looked down at his hands, not acknowledging her.

Blix sighed heavily, running a hand over her face in exasperation. Of all the things Miguel wanted to discuss, this was the last thing on her mind. She bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. She quietly reached into her bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper: the test results from the clinic.

She looked down at it for a moment, before looking over toward Salcedo.

She held it out to him, “You are the one Miguel trusts the most. Read it.”

Salcedo took it from her gently, after getting a nod of approval from Miguel. Salcedo unfolded it, looking at the paper with a furrowed brow. She knew he had gotten to the point of the paper when his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked at her, glancing over at Pacho for a moment, before returning his gaze to her.

Salcedo nodded briefly, “How has the morning sickness been?”

Blix snorted, “Awful. Why do they call it that when it lasts all day?”

“My wife… she struggled as well. I’ll have her send over her remedies for nausea for you. Miss Lage, if you do not mind, I’ll take you back home. You can go ahead and wait for me downstairs,” Salcedo softly told her, ignoring the protests from Miguel’s son.

Blix smiled at him appreciatively and returned to the elevator. As she did so, Salcedo turned to Miguel, who stared at him with confusion and some annoyance.

“All four of you… owe her an apology,” Salcedo declared as he set the paper down.

Salcedo strolled away, catching up with Blix downstairs to take her home.

Miguel grabbed it immediately, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read it.

“Oh,” Miguel simply said.

Pacho took the paper from him, not understanding what the hell was going on.

“This…is from a clinic… test results… pre…” Pacho stuttered as he stared at the words “Pregnancy: Positive.”

“What is happening!? Why is no one speaking??” Gilberto questioned, not understanding the silence.

Chepe, who was now reading over a stunned Pacho’s shoulder, began to laugh loudly.

“It appears that there will be a little Pacho running around soon,” Chepe cackled, causing Miguel to cover his mouth to hide his chuckles.

Pacho ran a hand over his face, before standing up and walking into a quieter room. He grabbed one of the SAT phones and called Diego.

When he heard the line click as Diego answered, Pacho wasted no time.

“How long have you known?” Pacho asked immediately.

“…From the beginning. May I ask what is going on? Several of the guys are talking about how… Miguel suspects that she was the spy?” Diego asked, confused.

“…Several of them came to us to tell us she had been leaving the house a lot, and no one knew why. We… we jumped to conclusions,” Pacho admitted with shame.

“…We… No. You… you didn’t really… Surely you know that she loves you more than she does her own life, right? Surely you wouldn’t have stupidly thought she was going to her ex, and spilling all of our secrets to him?” Diego questioned him, anger in his voice.

Pacho winced as he thought back to the look of hurt and betrayal on her face.

He heard the phone click, followed by the dial tone. Diego hung up on him.

Pacho sighed loudly, muttering under his breath, as he made his way out of the apartment.

Pacho got into the elevator, but before the doors could close, Chepe joined him. Chepe looked like the cat that got the canary.

“So… what are we going to do to make it up to our little Lady? Because… for you, I don’t think groveling and sex are going to fix this. Me… I don’t think I really want to become her punching bag,” Chepe said, attempting to be serious.

Pacho mumbled an agreement, not knowing what to say… or think.

He had to think of a way to fix this… quick.

Blix sat in the car, staring at the dash blankly. When Salcedo got into the car, she barely acknowledged his presence. He took her back to the house, and as she walked inside, Diego appeared in front of her, pulling her into a hug.

“Pacho called. That damn idiot. For him to even think you would betray us,” Diego whispered, trying to comfort her.

Blix shrugged, not knowing what to say; she felt numb. Blix pulled away from him, moving toward her room. She studied the room before making a decision. She grabbed a small bag and packed a couple of clothes and some toiletries.

Diego, who had followed her, asked her what she was doing.

Blix replied, “I am going to go spend a few days away. I need to be alone, and away from… all of this.”

Blix couldn’t believe the morning she had so far. She was hurt, and it was slowly turning to anger. If she stuck around here much longer, she was going to snap.

She finished getting her bag ready, before hopping in one of the cars and driving herself to her private apartment. She stopped by the store to grab some groceries for a few days, filling up her fridge with some simple meals.

Days passed before she decided she was ready to return home. Pacho called several times on the first two days before the calls slowed to once a day. The messages were usually just Pacho apologizing a lot and telling her how much he missed her.

The day before she drove home, she had listened to the message that Pacho had left her for the day. He started off with his usual apology and ‘miss you.’

Before he said, “I hope you come home soon. Please. I want to make this right. I know I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I was… I was blinded by trying to find this spy… I lost sight of everything. I know it will take some time for you to forgive me. I just want to know you’re safe. You…and our baby. Please come home.”

Blix wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him, but she knew she couldn’t hide out here forever. The drive was slow going, but soon enough, she pulled into the garage and parked the car. She grabbed her bag, before walking inside quietly.

In the living room stood Pacho, Diego, and Chepe. Pacho was the first to notice her and took a step toward her. She shook her head, stopping his movements as she walked further in. She stood before all three of them.

“Diego. In a little bit, do you want to go shopping with me? We should umm. Stock up on some things… As for the two of you,” She looked at both Pacho and Chepe. “and this applies to the brothers as well. If any of you, after all this time, ever accuse me of betraying you again, I will simply shoot you. Point blank. Will it be shoot to kill or shoot to wound, I don’t know. Guess it depends on how pissed off I am.”

Chepe nodded, “Understood, sweet Lady.”

Pacho was silent and after a moment, held out his hand to her. She slowly took it and allowed him to lead her upstairs. He led her to a room that was situated between hers and his, quietly telling her to open the door.

She glanced at him briefly as she did so. She felt her breath catch as she took in the room. It was a nursery. Soft green covered the walls, and a changing station was positioned near the ensuite bathroom. A crib sat opposite it, with a rocking chair posed next to it.

“This is what you did the past few days?” Blix asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“Yes. I know… I know you’re not going to forgive me anytime soon. I understand that. Hell, you made me suffer three weeks for ‘smothering you’ with guards. I just wanted to let you know that I am still here for you. That you are still mine, as I am yours. I wish… I had given you a chance to tell me about our baby properly… Instead, I accused you of something I knew in my soul wasn’t true, but my emotions blinded me to everything,” Pacho spoke from the doorway.

“You’re right… it will take me some time to forgive you… but this is… this is a good start,” Blix replied, turning to look at him.

Blix stepped over to him, and hesitantly, reached out for him. He straightened up, and gently held his arms open for her, as she moved closer, embracing him. His arms held her close to him as he pressed small kisses to the top of her head.

“You’re an ass,” Blix mumbled into his shirt.

“I know. I’m sorry, my shark,” Pacho murmured into her hair. “May I…. may I join you and Diego in shopping?”

Blix let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Yes. You may come with.”

Pacho held her for a bit longer, not quite wanting to move just yet.

“And I was serious about what I said earlier. Accuse me of such nonsense again, I will shoot you,” Blix stated firmly, looking up at him.

“Yes, ma’am. I will gladly let you,” Pacho whispered to her, placing a small kiss to the tip of her nose.

Her nose crinkled at the slight tickle it caused.

Pacho walked with her back downstairs, Chepe and Diego nowhere in sight. Pacho led her to his Thunderbird after a guard informed them that Diego was driving Chepe back home. The two of them drove into town and stopped at a high-end baby store.

When the car was parked, Pacho helped her out of the car and held her hand the entire time they were in the store. They got a few more pieces of furniture and stocked up basics such as diapers, wipes, and formula. The two of them briefly looked at clothes, but ultimately decided that they should wait until they knew the gender.

They compiled a list of items for a baby shower that Blix knew would happen soon enough, given the wives' inability to contain themselves. Blix was sure that they all knew by now and were chomping at the bit to start planning a party for her. Their purchases were set for delivery, and the two of them decided to spend the day shopping.

When they finally returned home, several guards gave their congratulations to them, as they walked inside. Pacho made her dinner and spent the evening treating her like a queen.

They took a long bath together, and Pacho’s soft touches were driving her nuts. Her nerves felt on fire. As they got into bed, Pacho made a show of kissing her from the top of her foot, all the way up her leg, pressing many kisses on her abdomen, before moving further up. When he finally got to her lips, his kisses became slow and deep.

“Pacho. Please,” Blix whispered softly against his lips.

Pacho spent the entire night making sure she was well-loved. As she was falling asleep, she quietly heard Pacho whispering against her abdomen.

“I know I’m making assumptions here. But I get the feeling you’re going to be my little princess. I promise… I will always protect you, my sweet child,” Pacho spoke softly.

Blix fell asleep feeling happier than she had in weeks.

When she woke up, she was alone but surrounded by roses. She shook her head as she looked at all the red and pink roses that were laid out all around her. She sat up slowly, nausea creeping in. Blix took a few minutes to take some deep breaths to calm herself before gingerly getting up and dressed.

As she made her way downstairs, she saw Salcedo holding a bag, speaking to Pacho.

“Please tell me that is for the nausea that is trying to kill me?” Blix asked as she strolled down the stairs.

Salcedo chuckled, “Yes, there are teas and some herbal medicines that are easy on the stomach. And honey. My wife swore that honey and mint tea was the best thing.”

“Bless you and your wife,” Blix was so happy she could cry.

Pacho took the bag and brought it into the kitchen. She could hear him pull out the kettle and fill it with water.

Salcedo wished her a good day and left after that. Blix found it slightly odd as he almost rushed to get out of there, tension in his shoulders.

Blix shook her head, thinking she was just imagining it, before heading into the kitchen and watching Pacho make her a cup of tea. He gently placed it in front of her, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head.

“Nausea acting up, my love?” He quietly asked her as he watched her shakily take a sip.

Blix nodded her head, sipping the tea slowly. She sighed in some relief a few minutes later when the nausea finally began to fade.

Pacho pressed a couple more kisses as she relaxed further.

“The wives have been blowing up my phone all morning, wanting to know when you would like to begin planning the baby shower,” Pacho informed her.

Blix snorted at that, “Of course they are. They’ve been dropping hints for almost a year that when we finally were expecting how pretty our baby will be, and ‘they will be so spoiled.’ Now, I will never be able to escape them.”

Pacho chuckled at her, “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Have you met their wives?” Blix countered, eyebrow raised.

Pacho quietly said, “Fair.”

The two of them spent the rest of the day in a peaceful silence. For the time being, they were safe in their own little world. Tomorrow, they return to reality and refocus on their goals.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Green Light: Teaser

Summary: Teaser. Andy is over the moon when you finally get the green light to be intimate again after the birth of your babies. But how do you explain to him that you're not quite comfortable with your post-pregnancy body just yet?

Warnings: Smut, Husband Andy Barber, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Post-Pregnancy Body, Discussions of Intimacy, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story coming soon! Prompt courtesy of an anonymous reader. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Warnings subject to change. All mistakes are my own. Please let me know your thoughts!

___

You wait to check your phone until after your appointment is over and you're safely back in your car.

2 Missed Calls - Andy Bear

3 New Texts - Andy Bear

Andy Bear: Hey, baby girl. How’d the appointment go? Did we get the all clear?

Andy Bear: Can you answer your phone, please? I want to hear your sweet voice when you tell me the good news.

Andy Bear: C'mon! You’ve got me dancing on pins and needles right now. Call me. 

You shake your head and then dial your man. He answers on the second ring. 

“There you are, sweetness! I was starting to get worried there for a moment.” The genuine concern in his voice has you playfully rolling your eyes. 

“Relax, Andy. Sometimes these appointments can take a while. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong, Dr. Wilson is just being thorough.” You check your appearance in the rearview mirror, noting that the bags under your eyes seem to look better than they have in days. “That’s part of the reason he’s been my OBGYN for so long, because he’s good at what he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s great.” You know he's not being dismissive on purpose, it’s just that he’s chomping at the bit to hear one key piece of information. “How’s your little body? Did we get the green light?”

Ahh, and there it was. Sometimes Andrew Barber was like a dog with a fucking bone. And only your husband would refer to your body as being “little” when you were still walking around sporting maternity wear.  

“I’ve been cleared for all physical activity. Which means I can finally start working out again and –”

“Fuck, yeah we did!” He cheers into the receiver, loud enough to make you wince. “Alright, baby girl, that settles it. BiBi and KitCat are going to my sister’s for a sleepover and the twins will stay at grandma’s. Meanwhile, I’m gonna leave the office early to pick us up some dinner. How about we celebrate with some surf and turf?”

“Oh my god, Andrew! We are not leaving our two newborns at your mother’s house for the night. That’s too much!”

“What if she already said yes?” You have no doubt that your unrepentant husband is smiling hard enough to crack a tooth right about now. 

“You didn’t.” Your head drops to the steering wheel with a light thunk. 

“Oh, I did.” The sound of an eager chuckle spills across the other line. “Ma and Bill are happy to keep Rory and Junior. She said you left them with enough formula and diapers to get ‘em through and that she, and I quote, would be positively heartbroken if you deprived her of time with her precious new grandchildren.”  

“Andy…I don’t know…” As tempting as the thought of a night of uninterrupted slumber was, you were on the fence about being away from your precious babies for that long. 

RoRo needed to be rocked to sleep, while A.J. needed you to pat his little tush and bounce him just so. And they both needed approximately 1,375 kisses every five minutes, otherwise they got fussy. 

“You must really want a good night’s sleep, huh, Big Man?”

“Baby, when I get my hands on you, I promise that sleeping will be the last thing on both of our minds. Now, I’ve gotta run. But I’ll see you home around 4:00pm.”

“Andy…” 

How did you tell your husband that you weren’t really feeling your post-pregnancy body right now? You’d even taken to changing in the bathroom lately. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice that increasingly bad habit of yours…

At least not yet. But it was only a matter of time.

“Hush, sweetness. You just let Daddy take care of everything, okay? I’ve been dreaming of this day for almost two months now, and I plan to take my time loving all over every inch of your delectable body. And what’s more, you’re going to let me.” You can practically feel your nipples pebbling beneath the fabric of your shirt. 

God, how did he always manage to sound so sexy when he was telling you what to do? Handsome ass buttface!

“I’ve gotta head into this meeting, but in the meantime, get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” You respond with a resigned sigh. “I…I guess I’ll see you when you get home then.”

“Damn right. Can’t wait to lose myself between those luscious thighs.” Andy rasps with a slightly roughened edge to his tone. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a taste…” 

Oh good God…and it had been way too long since you had to deal with beard burn. At this point, you’d almost forgotten about what it felt like.

“Bye, Andy Bear.”

"Goodbye, little love.”

END TEASER

[angeltreasure]

Okay I need to get this off my chest and I figure that since you're so nice and seem easy to ask questions to I'd tell you. About 9 years ago, I think I had a miscarriage. I'd been sexually active at the time and not in the Faith. I was not sure at the time what had happened but upon further research lately I think I did. I wasn't at the time able to go to an obgyn I was like 17 or something and didn't understand what happened. But today while at Church we had a Marian procession and crowning of our Lady. So after Mass and the procession I thanked our Lady and wished her a happy mothers day. Afterwards I recalled the event from years ago, and I felt her wishing me one as well. I asked for clarification, and she confirmed I had a miscarriage. She even named the child Rose. It's making me tear up right now. I just don't know what to do, should I go to confession, should I do something, I'm scared lost and confused. Am I a bad mother if I had a miscarriage? A bad Catholic? If this makes you uncomfortable don't worry about replying.

Do not be afraid. Having a miscarriage is not a sin. It doesn’t make you a bad mom either. For various reasons, a mother might be able to have a miscarriage from how her body is built, to environmental circumstances, perhaps other things etc. Most of the time we cannot control if we have a miscarriage. You can absolutely tell about it in confession, God is there for you and through your priest or bishop He will speak words to comfort you. Having sex outside marriage is considered a sin, which you can bring to confession (if you have never brought it up before), and it is absolutely a forgivable sin. It doesn’t make you a bad Catholic, all of us are sinners except God and Mary. You’re not a bad mom. Your child, Rose, is a saint in Heaven, no longer able to feel any pain or tears. Rose loves you very much and always will, she loves you so much that Our Lady wanted to tell you herself. She walks in Heaven playing with Mary and even holds her hand as she walks covered in the safety of her mantle. I’m so sorry that you lost Rose in this earthly life, but you will be reunited in Heaven. I encourage you to go to confession when you feel ready, you can even talk to your priest anytime about anything. He is our shepherd that will help us to heal and guide us lost lambs to safety close to Jesus. It’s time to also consider taking time to heal yourself and if you want to mourn as well. Make sure to mention to your doctor (if you have one now or in the future), drink some water, eat some healthy good, do gentle exercise even if it’s just walking in a safe place, catch up on sleep, and make time to pray each day even if it’s only a little prayer. It’s ok to reach out for help too beyond confession. Find someone in your life who you can talk about your mental health to, a family member, a good friend, even a professional can help don’t let any stigma prevent you from reaching out and speaking up. I also have some links for you that may khelp:

I’ll keep you and family in my prayers.

God loves you, Our Lady loves you, Rose loves you, and I love you. Don’t be afraid.

[sarah-in-disguise]

Open It

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader (Knives Out AU - no murder here!)

Warnings: swear words, shouting, multiple medical terms and phrases (PCOS, cancer, mass, fertility, pregnancy, etc.), angst, fluff, soft!Ransom (at least with the reader).  Flashbacks in italics.

Summary: Over the course of a few short hours, your life flipped upside down.  Plans for yourself.  Your future with Ransom.  All the pieces you’d used to build a foundation for your future, blown away in the breeze.  What does your future look like now?  And, most importantly, will Ransom be in it?

Word Count: 3032

A/N: This story is very personal for me, but I know a lot of you here on Tumblr can relate.  It was a very cathartic process to write it all down and get it all out.  While I have a great support system of family and friends to help me through this situation (read more about what’s going on here), I can’t help but daydream and wonder how one of my favorite CE characters would react.  I love soft!Ransom, so I hope this delivered!

Disclaimer: I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third-party site or app.  This is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters in this story.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.  Moodboard picture sources are Google and Canva.

Make sure to check out my masterlist!

Numb.

You didn’t know any other word to describe how you were feeling right now.  Over the course of a few short hours, your life flipped upside down.  Plans for yourself.  Your future with Ransom.  All the pieces you’d used to build a foundation for your future, blown away in the breeze.

A few months ago, your PCOS started acting up.  This wasn’t all that uncommon - most people with PCOS noticed different symptoms every few years as their hormone levels changed.  Originally, your symptoms had been more of an inconvenience than anything else.  Long, heavy periods, an occasional migraine, a bit more facial hair.  Everything was easy to fix with a birth control pill and a mild hormone replacement pill that you took twice a day.

When you started seeing Ransom two years ago, you didn’t even mention it to him at first.  Ransom’s reputation clearly preceded himself, and neither of you were looking for anything serious.  A year into your relationship, you forced him to at least sit down and discuss where this was headed.  After admitting to each other that you’d never been happier, you set aside a few days for a long weekend getaway to discuss things further.

Surprisingly, both of you were open to marriage and to the idea of kids someday.  You also agreed that neither of you were ready for those steps anytime soon - you were both relatively young, and he didn’t want to rush in and have this relationship turn out like his toxic parents or other family members.  The only piece you were adamant about was that you wanted to be married before having kids, and Ransom didn’t have any problems with that, either.

He’d even given you his pinky ring that weekend as a promise ring of sorts, telling you to keep it until he had something more permanent for you in the future.

You’d brought up your PCOS that weekend, and even after talking about how it might impact your fertility someday, Ransom assured you it wasn’t an issue.  In his words, “I’ve got money if we need to go down that road, sweet girl.  Don’t worry about it”

And you hadn’t, until a few hours ago.

When you went in for your yearly checkup with your OBGYN last month, you’d brought up a few new symptoms you had experienced.  Again, this wasn’t uncommon to have changing symptoms as you got older, so your doctor ordered a few tests to see what was up.  “Just a formality,” she explained.  “It will help us rule a few things out so we know what our next steps should be.”

Except this morning, you found out that the tests didn’t rule anything out.  Instead, they found the culprit - a softball-sized mass on one of your ovaries.

The good news was that it wasn’t likely cancerous, but they would biopsy it when it was removed just to make sure.

The bad news was…more complicated.

“Since you have history on both sides of your family of endometrial and ovarian cancer, plus you have history in your family of getting cancer at an early age, I strongly recommend you get a full hysterectomy in the next two to three years.”

Your mind was swimming with information and everything was coming at you so fast, but the only response suitable for this situation was simple.

“What?”

With a look of sympathy, your doctor continued.  “I know we’d discussed how your PCOS would work with your future plans for having kids in five or six years, but based on how fast this mass came up, I’m strongly suggesting we move that plan up if we can.  There’s just too much risk waiting around a few extra years when they will likely lead to another mass and a high risk for cancer.”

“Oh.”  Looking down at your hands, you nervously start fiddling with Ransom’s pinky ring.  It was a nervous habit of yours - one Ransom learned soon after he gave you that ring.  Unfortunately, Ransom wasn’t there to notice.

Sitting on your bed, you were still twisting that ring around your finger.  Ransom would be home soon, and you still didn’t have any idea how you were going to tell him.  Sure, he knew you were going into the doctor, but you were both expecting this to be a minor appointment.  An adjustment to a medication.  Maybe even a few more tests to narrow results down.

Not a softball-sized mass and a hysterectomy in two or three years, effectively cutting your timeline for marriage and kids in half.

While you should be worrying about your health, you were more concerned with how Ransom would react.  What if he wasn’t ready for this timeline?  Would he want to take kids off the table?  If he was stuck on the timeline and didn’t want to give up kids, how did you fit in that future?

After all this, do you even fit at all?

When you left your doctor’s office, those thoughts were a mere whisper.  You knew Ransom, and you were just starting to convince yourself that there was nothing to worry about.

That is until you ran into Linda on the way out to your car.

Exiting the medical plaza, you sit down on a bench outside the front entrance, close your eyes, and take a deep breath.  You want to call Ransom, but you know he is in a meeting with a potential new author he and Harlan wanted to bring into Blood Like Wine.  He’d drop the meeting for you in a heartbeat, but after a few more deep breaths, you convince yourself you can wait until he gets home.

Fate, however, wanted to throw you one last curveball.

Standing up, you start walking to your car.  As you dig in your purse for your keys, you accidentally bump into someone, causing your appointment notes and surgery details to scatter on the ground.

“Excuse me!  Do you not have eyes?  Do you know who I am?”  You knew that disgusted voice anywhere.

Linda.

Before you even think about collecting the paper scattered around you, you muster up a small smile and look up at Ransom’s mother.

“I’m so sorry, Linda.  I wasn’t paying attention and I was looking for my keys.”

“Oh, it’s you.”  As you start collecting your paperwork, Linda continues.  “You look like shit.”

Huffing out a laugh, you continue stuffing papers into your folder.  Ransom’s parents, especially Linda, made it very clear from the beginning that they didn’t approve of you.  Unlike the endless line of women Linda paraded in front of her only son, you didn’t have a wealthy, well-known family to fall back on.

What you did have was your education, a stable job, and parents who actually loved you - but that didn’t matter to Richard and Linda.

Just then, a breeze came and caused your last piece of paper to take flight.  Before it could get too far, Linda used her designer shoe to stomp it to the ground.  As you were reaching for it, the paper was snatched up in Linda’s eager hands.

“What even has you so preoccupied that you can’t -”

At Linda’s abrupt stop, your face pales.  Your mind scrambles as you stand up.  Trying to figure out what piece of paper she managed to snatch up, all thoughts stop as she starts laughing.

Your heart sinks as you confirm your fears, spotting your appointment summary sheet in her hands.

After a few seconds, her laughter dies down.  Throwing the paper in your direction, you catch it as she leaves her parting words.

“Ransom was so blind before, but he won’t be able to ignore this.  The only reason he’s kept you around is to warm his bed and pop out a few kids when the time comes.  Now that you can’t even do that, maybe he’ll see you for what you really are.  Worthless.”

Worthless.

That’s the word your mind was playing on repeat as you sat on your bed, spinning that ring round and round.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the front door slam shut or Ransom’s loud footsteps as they climbed the stairs to your shared bedroom.  In fact, you didn’t register anything until your own bedroom door was thrown open, colliding with the wall behind it.  Ransom quickly started to pace the room, mumbling incoherent thoughts under his breath.  From previous experience, you knew it was best to let him pace and blow off some steam - but you had too much swimming around in your head to remember that today.

“Ran, are you OK?”

Stopping dead in his tracks, he spins to look at you before shouting, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M OK TO YOU?!”

The next events were ones you’d seen early on in your relationship, long before you knew it was best to let him pace and calm himself down.  If you let him do that, he’d eventually come to you in an hour or so to calmly discuss his frustrations.  If you didn’t let him do that, he often screamed and shouted at whoever was closest and would listen.

Today, that person was you.

“There we were, Harlan and I, meeting with this new author.  Everything was going well until Walt walked in and fucked everything up.  We almost had the contract finalized before that shithead waltzed in and started bitching about terms of the deal he didn’t even have any fucking say over.  Can you believe it?”

On a normal day, you knew whatever Ransom mumbled under his breath wasn’t directed at you.

Unfortunately, today wasn’t normal.

“What a worthless piece of shit.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at Ransom.  There’s that word again.  Worthless.  Using the little strength you have left, you look at him and whisper, “what?”

Huffing, he turns to look at you before yelling, “I said, WHAT A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!”

Faster than your mind can think, your legs carry you to the bathroom.  Slamming and locking the door behind you, you collapse to the hard tile as the first sob rips from your chest.  

Slowly, Ransom recovers from the initial shock of your reaction and rushes to the bathroom door.  Jiggling the handle, he swears under his breath.

“Kitten?  I’m sorry for yelling, sweet girl.  Can you open up the door for me?”  You can’t even hear him over your sobs.

Over the next few minutes, your crying dies down and you finally hear Ransom apologizing and asking you to open the door.  Standing up, you scoff at your tear-stained face and puffy eyes in the mirror, but it’s too late to do anything about that now.  Slowly, you walk over to the door and open it up, meeting a very concerned Ransom.

Instantly, you’re wrapped in his strong arms, causing the tears to start again.  When he starts pressing kisses to your hair, you wrap your own arms around his abdomen and hang on for dear life.  Eventually, he picks you up bridal style and sits down on the bed, settling you on his lap.  After a few more minutes holding each other in silence, he clears his throat and tips your eyes up to meet his.

“I’m so sorry, kitten.  There’s no excuse for blowing up at you like that.  You don’t deserve to be treated like that by anyone, let alone me.”

Sensing his regret, you start apologizing as well.  “It’s OK, Ransom.  You have every right to be frustrated, and I’m usually better about reading the situation and knowing when to leave you alone to calm down.  I should’ve just walked away when you came in.  It’s just,” sighing, you look down at your hands and start spinning Ransom's ring.  “I’ve got too many other things to think about today.”

After a few seconds, Ransom places one large hand over yours to stop your spinning.  Using his other hand to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, he responds.

“Stop apologizing, sweet girl.  You did nothing wrong.  Now,” lifting your hand up, he places a kiss on his ring.  “You’ve been spinning this ring since I got home.  What’s wrong?”

Looking down at your linked hands, you answer.  “Did you remember that I had my follow up appointment with my OBGYN today?”

“Yeah, you mentioned that this morning.  What did your doctor say?”

You take a deep breath and let it out and take a moment to study his perfectly blue eyes before you continue.  “They found a mass on one of my ovaries.”

Ransom, for once in his life, is speechless.

Taking his silence as an opportunity to continue, you push on.  “It’s about the size of a softball, and they’re going to have to surgically remove it and the ovary in a few weeks.  They don’t think it’s cancer, but they’ll do a biopsy after surgery to make sure.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ransom smiles and kisses you on your forehead.  “Hey, we can get through this, kitten.  Surgery isn’t great, but at least the outcome looks good, right?”

Tears start brimming your eyes again and you force yourself to look away from his excited features.  Once again, his hands stop yours from twirling his ring.  This time, he doesn’t immediately make you look up at him.

“What else is it?”

A few tears roll down your cheeks, but Ransom turns your face towards his to cup your cheeks and wipe them away.  “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”  Pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss, he pulls back.  “I promise.”

Bracing for the worst and hoping for the best, you start the harder half of the conversation.

“Do you remember that trip we took last year when we talked about the future?  Like if we were open to marriage, kids, stuff like that?”

“Of course, I do.”  It was Ransom’s turn to start fiddling with the ring on your finger.  “That’s the trip that I gave you my ring.”

For a brief moment, you catch yourself smiling at the memory.  Unfortunately, just as quick as the smile came, it fades away.

“What I’m about to tell you is going to throw a wrench in those plans, Ransom, and I want you to know that I understand if this is a dealbreaker for you.  If things are moving too fast and you want someone else who fits the plan we agreed on, I’ll completely understand…”

“KITTEN!”  You flinch at Ransom’s sudden outburst, but he’s quick to apologize.  “Sorry, but you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.  This talking in circles isn’t helping anyone.”

Welp, you think.  Here goes nothing.

“Since I have a history of endometrial and ovarian cancer on both sides of my family, my doctor is strongly recommending I get a hysterectomy in the next few years.”

You’re met with silence as Ransom processes through this new information.

“How many years is a few years?”

“Two, maybe three.  I don’t think you know this, but I’ve had two female cousins and one aunt get cancer before they turned 30.  Because of that, she’s concerned I’ll get cancer at a young age, too.  I can’t get ovarian or endometrial cancer if I don’t have those parts inside me anymore, so the sooner I get rid of them, the better.  Ultimately, if I want a chance at carrying my own biological children, I need to start trying now.”

Immediately and without any explanation, Ransom dumps you off his lap, gets off the bed, and walks directly into his closet.  You jump when you hear a drawer slam, but before you can fully react, Ransom’s back at the bed.  Pulling you to sit on the edge, he drops down on one knee in front of you.

Tears fill your eyes as he shows you the ring box in his hand.

“You’ve had to do a lot of talking today, sweet girl, so it’s only fair I get to talk for a while, OK?”

Nodding your head up and down, he smiles.

“Even though we decided on that trip last year we were going to wait and take our time before getting engaged, I knew you were the one.  The day after we got back, I contacted our jeweler so we had plenty of time to design the perfect engagement ring.  After sending in some pictures of your jewelry and giving some input of my own, we came up with this.”  Lifting the closed box up a few inches, he continued.

“The minute I saw it, I immediately knew this ring was meant for this finger.”  Picking up your hand, he placed a light kiss on your left ring finger.  “I knew right then and there I was ready to marry you.  Hell, I’ve almost proposed twice in the last few months, but I knew we had a plan - and I know you well enough by now that once you make a plan, you stick to it.  But you know what I think?”

“What?”

With a smug grin, he responds.  “I think this is the universe’s way of telling our plan to fuck off.”

For the first time all day, you release a full blown laugh - and the smile on Ransom’s face couldn’t get any bigger.

“We can get married today, we can get married next month, or we could wait ten years.  No matter when it happens, I know for a fact that I’ll always choose you.  So, we can throw our plans out the window or I can put this box away and save it for a few years down the road.  Either way, I’ll always end up with you, sweet girl.  So, what do you say?  Am I opening this or not?”

Without thinking, you pull Ransom’s face to yours and devour his lips with an eager kiss.  Tangling your hands in his hair to pull him closer, he wraps his arms around your waist to draw you in.  Your body buzzes from the passion and lack of air, and soon you’re forced to break apart to breathe.

It isn’t a hard decision, so why wait?

“Open it.”