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littlelovelyra · 23 days

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I'm with you - Astarion FanFic

Fem tav x Astarion

Tav is a bard

Summary: Unbeknownst to you, Astarion has realised that perhaps his plan is falling apart, you have felt him distancing himself for a few days. You now arrive at last light inn where one night Alfira asks you to perform one of your latest songs. Which leads to you and Astarion alone in your quarters later.

Notes: Ive written this based around a song by vance joy, there will be the use of the lyrics from the song (maybe a few changed lyrics) for the plot of this story, so you will be reading the song lyrics - if you wish to listen to how its meant to be sung, the song is called “Im with you” - I suck at fanfic writing but I day dream a lot and since hearing this song I have had this “encounter” in my head so I like to get it out.

Warnings: Fluff, Oral, PiV, fingering

MINORS DNI

He’s been distant, and you don't know why. You spend your time lost in thought, replaying moments in your mind, searching for what you might have done to push him away. He hasn't sought you out for his daily feeds either, which surely means he must be growing weak. The last time you were alone together was two days after obliterating the Githyanki Creche. You wonder if he's still mad about the blast from that weapon you triggered. But you'd asked him multiple times if he had forgiven you, and he had reassured you that it was in the past. He had even warned you that next time he would be the one to wield the powerful weapon, as if he were more responsible than you.

You arrived at Last Light Inn in what you believe to be the early hours of the morning, though time feels different here. Your companions insisted you take the single room available, with its own bed and privacy. Perhaps they don’t know that Astarion hasn’t visited you for the past three nights…

Three nights ago, you had quietly slipped into his tent for him to feed on you. You remember how gently he laid you down, cradling your head with his arm as he carefully kissed your neck before sinking his teeth in. You can still feel his other hand cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing loving circles around your jaw. His soft moans as he drank you in echoed in your mind. After he had his fill, he placed another tender kiss on your wounds and slowly pulled you into a long, slow kiss that felt earth-shatteringly intimate, something you had never felt from him before. Remembering the feel of his cold hands exploring your body with such tenderness and purpose sends a shiver through you, as if you can still feel his touch. The breathlessness you both shared while tangled together in a night of passion, only to wake up the next morning with him already gone. You wondered if you had imagined the love radiating from him.

But now, there is nothing but silence. Eye contact avoided. Your chest feels as if it has caved in. You don’t know how to repair this, so you do what you know best. You pick up your lute and begin to compose. After what seems like an eternity of trying to collect your thoughts, you compose something that perfectly captures how you feel in this moment. Yet, the heaviness still weighs deeply within you. Sighing to yourself, you set down the paper and your lute and decide to purchase a drink at the bar.

“It’s you!” A familiar voice calls out from across the room. You lift your head to see the friendly face of Alfira, a fellow bard. You meet her smile with one just as wide and pull her into a warm embrace.

“I’m so glad you made it here, Alfira! I hope you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble!” you say, holding her at arm’s length, taking her in. She seems healthy and safe.

“Well, it’s all thanks to you, Tav! I’ve been keeping out of trouble, just working on my music. In fact, I’ve been providing entertainment here for a while. I thought this place needed some nightly music to lift everyone’s spirits… OH! YES! I have the BEST idea!”

You know where this is going, and you don’t like it.

“You need to play here tonight, Tav! Please!” Her eyes are practically sparkling with excitement.

“Look, Alfira, I’m sure nobody wants to hear my stuff. Yours is probably way more interesting.”

“Nonsense.” She looks around the bar and loudly announces, “Who wants to hear Tav tonight instead of me?”

Gale, being Gale, yells in agreement, and the rest of the bar follows suit. You shoot daggers at him, who holds his hands up in surrender, offering an apologetic smile.

“I suppose I can, but one song only, Alfira.” You offer her a small smile. One song—you can handle it. It will be fine.

“Amazing! I heard some music coming from your room before, which is why I came inside. I’d like to hear that one, please! OH, I can’t wait. This is going to be AMAZING!”

Before you can protest the song choice, she gives you a quick hug and exits the building, spreading the news of your performance.

__________________________________

You spent the rest of the day polishing the lyrics of the song, and the time has finally come to head out and wait for Alfira to bring you up on the makeshift stage set in the corner of the room.

“We have an exceptional surprise for you all tonight! Our very own Tav will be performing one of her latest compositions! Please help me in welcoming her up!” Alfira extends her hand out and you sheepishly take it to hop up on the platform. Casting a look around the room you take a moment to compose yourself, this is what you did for a living before all hell broke loose. You can do this… and that’s when you see him lingering in the back, swirling his drink in his hand, his gaze completely fixed on you. You inhale deeply and you begin to play your new song, your stare never leaving his as you sing…

“I saw you standing there, the curls in your hair, the way it came tumbling down, just like a waterfall. And if you need a light I’ll be the match to your candle My Darling I’m ready, to burst into flames for you.”

Holding his stare you see something flicker in those ruby eyes but you continue without faltering.

“I was just coasting till we met. You remind me just how good it can get..

Well I’ve been on fire dreaming of you Tell me you don’t, it feels like you do Looking like that you’ll open some wounds… How does is start and when does it end? I’ve only been here for a moment but I know I want you But is it too soon? To know that I’m with you? There’s nothing I can do”

“There's nothing I won't do to see you shine I'll swing for the fences I'll run to the line And it's high time that you love me 'Cause you do it so well Oh darling, I'm with you There's nothing I won't do…”

You concluded the song, and the entire Last Light Inn erupted in cheers and hollers of approval. It had been a long time since you had experienced such genuine appreciation for your music, and your heart swelled with gratitude. You offered a small bow from the waist and made your way off the platform, shaking a few hands along the way. Alfira had returned to the stage, and the entertainment resumed.

_______________________________________

After a brief conversation with some of your companions, you excuse yourself and head to your room. Placing your lute gently on the table, you begin to prepare for bed, starting to undress. As you stand in your underclothes, a sudden chill envelops you from behind, causing your body to tense. You inhale a familiar scent - bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy - and realize that you are not alone.

"Hello, darling," he breathes into your ear as he places a hand on your bare waist, sending a cold shiver down your spine. You slowly turn to face him, lifting your gaze to meet his. A thousand questions scream in your eyes, and you can tell he clearly sees them.. Before you can even form a sentence his mouth is on yours, with heated desperation his hands moving across the fullness of your body, taking you in, holding you as if he would never hold you again. Your questions vanish and nothing but desire flows through you down to your precious core that is aching with need for him. In an instant he’s guided you to the bed in the corner, placing you down, his kisses never missing a beat as he undresses you. The peaks of your breasts swell with anticipation as he scatters kisses down your neck, across your collarbone and eventually sucks in one of the tender peaks. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his hand moving toward your core.

He finds the bundle of nerves that eagerly await his touch and he begins rubbing slow circles around your clit.

“Astarion.’ You breathe out in a soft moan that sends him trailing kisses down your body until his head is at your very centre. You arch your back in anticipation, your body begging his mouth to find its home.

He lets out a soft growl as he buries his head in you, his tongue expertly delivering long calculated strokes, flicks and swirls. As he feels your body nearing its end he curls two fingers inside you and pumps them in and out while completely devouring you. You feel yourself becoming light headed and your body shaking as the wave comes crashing down. You let out a loud moan as you completely shatter around his face.

Astarion comes back up to you slowly cleaning his fingers off with his mouth while never breaking his stare. He slowly brings his face to yours kissing you deeply and you feel his hardness through his clothes pressing against you. A soft gasp escapes your lips as he undoes his trousers, springing free you feel his hardened flesh on yours.

While never breaking his kiss he slowly eases himself into you, the two of you exhaling the moment he fills and stretches you. He moves in and out in a slow rhythm, one almost matching the composition you had performed earlier. You can feel the passion and heat with every kiss and every pump that fills you.

“Astarion…” you whisper between his kisses, his pace quickens as if a torch had been lit under him, he drives into you harder, faster more desperate and you can feel him reaching his end. You are not even aware that you are doing it, its as if its become instinct, you turn your head exposing your neck, an invitation for him to have complete satisfaction. Without hesitation he sinks in groaning so loud you swore you felt the bed shake. You can feel his body starting to twitch and buckle as he comes undone, you find yourself exploding in ecstasy with him.

The two of you lay there, breathing heavy. All is silent for a moment until his gaze meets yours.

“Why?” You manage to choke out, your throat tightening. You wish you could demand answers, explain your hurt, anything but this pathetic whimpering mess. Your eyes are stinging while you hold back tears, screaming to yourself in your mind that you will NOT cry.

Astarion’s ruby eyes slowly scan your face, understanding flickering through them and his face softens; you think you see a hint of shame there.

“I was afraid,” he whispered softly. “I… I’m not good for you, Tav.”

You look at him and place a hand on his face. “Let me decide what is good for me. Please. It's okay to be afraid… I thought I had done something wrong. I thought… I thought you grew tired of me.”

Pain flickers across his features that vanishes all too quickly and is replaced with a quiet chuckle. “You do everything right, Tav… I cannot fault you on anything. As for growing tired of you? I don’t think I would ever be capable of doing that… ever… and perhaps that’s what scares me the most.”

You understand now. For an immortal, growing close to someone must be a frightening thing. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you could find a way for you to be with him forever.

You keep your thoughts to yourself and softly place a kiss on his lips.

He smiles and whispers, “For the record, Love, I’m with you too.”

#astarion #bg3 tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #tav #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion fic #astarion x you

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rythmicjea · 3 months

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Jeronica Endgame Analysis

I wrote this on Reddit and have been meaning to bring it over here. But commenting on @elizacinnamon's tumblr is what convinced me to do it. Buckle up because it's a long one!

Okay so, looking at all of the easter eggs in the episode, to me, it's heavily coded that Betty and Archie do end up together and that Jughead and Veronica end up together. The first thing that should be acknowledge is that everything in this episode is done with a purpose. They couldn't definitively say who Archie ended up with because Archie comics is predicated on the unanswered question of "Betty or Veronica?" so they had to make things "ambiguous" so people could come to their own conclusions.

When we hear of Veronica's life, Jughead says that she was known for her "impeccable taste" and "produced some of the most iconic movies of our time". So, right there, that's huge. That's a lot of heavy lifting. While he is complimentary and sensitive to everyone else's ending, the way he describes Veronica's life is just more. Take Fangs, he doesn't describe "Pixie Girl" as a "timeless" or "iconic" song. He just says that Midge and their daughter were taken care of and that his gold record will hang as long as there is a Riverdale High. He doesn't mention if Kevin or Clay won any awards for their work, but he says that Veronica won two Oscars. He goes out of his way to note the importance of Veronica's achievements.

The scene at The Babylonium is where I've found the most clues to their shared future. Jughead says "I always loved this theater". He doesn't say that about any of the other places they visit. Throughout the show, they regularly used characters to represent overarching themes. For example, Archie = Riverdale. I take Jughead's declaration to be a euphemism for Veronica. It's not that farfetched to believe that they fell in love while in high school. They were together for a year and a half before graduation. So, in the scene, he says "I always loved this theater. But it had a good run." At this time, in reality, both Veronica and Jughead have passed. Their run ended. He then lifts the seat and HIS CROWN is drawn under it! Why? This is a quick visual cue that he and Veronica are connected. If the Babylonium is a physical representation of Veronica (which is what the episode frames it as) then she essentially has a Jughead tattoo on her (a bit of a dramatic way of putting it lol). But, also this is not the first time something like that is in the show. In season 1 and 2, Betty wears a sweater with a yellow three pronged crown. It's universally recognized as Jughead's crown (she wears it on his birthday and in the Heather's musical episode). So, he makes his statement and BAM Veronica appears. Every time we see a character that isn't in the "relived day", it is a clip of them in the future. Veronica is the only character to essentially be an apparition. They didn't have to include her, but they did. And seeing as it's Narrator!Jughead (the real/angel Jughead is in the Pop's in the Sweet Hereafter, and the show literally ends with typewriter sounds) telling Betty all of this, Veronica's appearance can be taken as a clue that she is ever present in his mind/life.

When we see her in her office, she has four "The Comet" posters behind her. Hanging posters of the movies you made is very common. What isn't common is that one franchise has such a place of honor, so that means it's incredibly significant to her. Her clothing is in the style of the early 80s (the creators had an idea to bring everyone through time with each episode but it wasn't feasible so this is kind of a nod to that. Cheryl is seen in the late 60s, Betty in the 70s, and Veronica is the early 80s). We know that Jughead adapted The Comet into a comic book, and he was the one that introduced her to WEB DuBois' people. The artwork of the posters is the same as the comic he created. Making movies at that time was very time-consuming. Also, franchises like that were not common. The whole "Saga", "Trilogy", and "Universe" collections of today were not done to the same extent back then. So, not only was "The Comet" incredibly popular (because it got four movies) but it spanned over a large time frame (again, she still has the posters up decades after graduation via her clothing style), meaning that there was a consistent dialogue between Jughead and Veronica.

Outside of the Babylonium is a poster for "The Big Sleep" (It's also on the Marquis). This is a direct reference to the episode "The Red Dahlia" (3x14) where Veronica enlists Jughead's help. It is one of the main "Jeronica" episodes of the series. In that episode he says that he'll be her "Philip Marlowe". In The Big Sleep, Philip Marlowe is the main character played by Humphrey Bogart. In the same episode he says "Nice hat... Bacall." Lauren Bacall is the female lead of The Big Sleep. Bogart and Bacall were a huge draw for audiences. They were a power couple of their day (and they were also married... hint hint lol). They were the Bennifer and Brangelina first.

Now, moving onto Jughead. He doesn't talk much about himself. Everything that Betty says can literally be read on screen in his obituary. There are two main takeaways from this scene. The first is he barely talks about himself. When he does, he focuses on talking about his career and there's no mention of his personal life. This is a parallel to Veronica's description. He only describes her career and not her personal life. What is also a parallel is that in his summary of Veronica's life he says that she was known for "taking risks on young, raw talent" ie Jughead. Jughead tells Betty that he "put all of his eggs in one basket". That turn of phrase is to mean that you did the riskiest thing possible. When Betty asks if he ever regrets not getting circled he says 'sometimes'. It's a very ambiguous statement. BH shippers will say that he is talking about Betty. But his relationship with Betty ended in high school (both times) and were never rekindled later in life. It doesn't have to be that regrets not marrying Veronica, but it can be taken that way.

The second is on the artist easel in the Madhouse offices. There is a picture of Veronica. It is not a photograph it is the canonical comic book portrait of Veronica (Pep Comics IS Archie Comics). And it is smack dab in the middle of the easel. This is another parallel to Veronica's future. She has "The Comet" posters and he has her portrait. Remember, his first comic book line that he created was "Veronica: The Teenage Witch". So this is a clue that he has used Veronica's likeness IN his magazine for most, if not all of, the run. There's no picture of Betty or Archie. Why still have Veronica's portrait and use her likeness if they weren't still connected in real life?

Now we come to the final scene. So, throughout all of Riverdale (with a few exceptions) the milkshakes that the core four drink all correspond to their hair color. Betty = Vanilla, Archie = Strawberry, Jughead and Veronica = Chocolate (double chocolate to be specific - which can be extrapolated to represent them. It's a stretch but it can be made). In the final moments, we see that this formula has been flipped. When Betty sits in the booth, Archie is drinking a Vanilla milkshake and he hands Betty a strawberry one noting it's "her favorite". What are Jughead and Veronica drinking? Double chocolate milkshakes. If in the Barchie Endgame theory Strawberry being Betty's "favorite" is to mean "Archie" then we can apply that same logic to Jughead and Veronica. Then there is their seating arrangement. The girls on one side and the boys on the other. Betty is sitting directly in front of Archie and Veronica is sitting directly in front of Jughead. Again, because they had to keep the "Who will Archie choose?" answer ambiguous they use this blocking technique to show the pairings without the pair sitting right next to each other. (Couples either sit next to each other or across from one another.)

That is my analysis of the finale using clues to prove that Jughead and Veronica were "endgame". I hope you liked it! If you have any corroborating theories let me know!

#riverdale #jughead jones #veronica lodge #jeronica #vughead #Endgame #riverdale season 7 #7x20 #Riverdale is so bad it's GENIUS

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thesmokingguns · 1 month

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Fixing Forever Chapter One

Stepping out of the recording room and into the mixing room, Izzy felt the tension between his shoulder blades from playing the guitar for so long. The dull ache that promised of music being made that actually meant something and left immense satisfaction buzzing through the man in it’s dull throbbing ache.

There were a couple guys in the room, some drinking beers, a few in the corner, passing a joint around and making the area fill with the hazy and heavy smoke.

He couldn’t go home smelling like pot.

Checking his watch, he grimaced at the time.

It was nearing one am and he had told his wife that he would be home in time to help with bedtime for their three little kids. Bedtime ritual started after dinner, which was always at six even in the chaos of his house his wife managed to keep the kids on a schedule.

“Hey, did Bernie call?” He crossed his fingers in his mind, hoping that she had called and just needed him to pick up something from the store and wasn’t calling to see why he hadn’t shown up at home.

Izzy knew that he was extremely lucky with his wife.

His pretty wife who he had met just as he got sober and moved back to Indiana. She had rear ended him with her father in the car, had apologized so many times, not knowing as soon as her pretty face stepped out of the car Izzy had forgiven her. He had smoothly, in his mind, asked for her number and called her that night to ask her out for dinner.

They had been married ten months later.

“She called a while ago,” Dan confirmed, pushing papers around and finally lifting an ashtray that should have been emptied and finally, held up a yellowed piece of paper up tp Izzy with a triumphant sound, “Here it is! She called twice, once at 6:01 and then again at 9PM. Asked to talk to you but you were writing the song and in such a trance,” he shrugged, “Last couple times she just asked you to bring some stuff home so I figured that you could do a grocery run before heading home.”

Made sense but Izzy instantly got heartburn because she had called during dinnertime and she had called twice. If she needed milk for the kids cereal in the morning that would have been one phone call, not two.

He didn’t even think a grocery store would be open right now to get whatever she needed either so he was going to have ro go home empty handed.

“I’m headed out,” Izzy picked up his guitar that he had already packed away, wanting to keep it close in case another idea hit him in the middle of the night. Granted, it was the middle of the night now, “See you guys tomorrow.”

The drive home was quiet, a soft wind coming in from the open window helped him stay awake as he yawned again. The lateness started to hit him and make him worry for some reason.

At home he had a wife, she was only 28 with three of their kids alone with her. Jack was their son, who at seven years old thought he was the man of the house and had broken more windows than they had in their house. Jack was their first baby, a surprise after they had been married a couple months and he seemed to have thrived off the fear he had put in his parents' hearts as they navigated their first child. Their second son was quiet, at five years old Mikey liked to spend his days outside playing with his trucks or close to his mother, who coddled him with gentle touches and sweet words. And then there was the baby of the family. At three years old she ran the house with her sweet green eyes, just like her daddy, and struck fear in all the men of the house who had fallen under her spell. Sweet little Charlotte, who they called Charlie rounded off their family of five. She could get away with murder and they’d cover it up for her.

Izzy rubbed his chest, the ache that had been in his back from making music moving to this tight constriction around his heart as he longed to be with them. He missed his family. It should be ridiculous because he lived with them but he was suddenly realizing that he wasn’t around as much as he should be and was missing time that he would never get back with them.

There needed to be more balance. He would need to find it.

Pulling up into the garage, he shut off the car and moved into the house.

It was so quiet as he moved up the stairs, heading to go check on his children who he was sure would be fast asleep in bed. Except when he pushed open the door to the boys room, the bunk beds were empty. No Jack with his limbs thrown wildly out in every direction on the top bunch. No Mikey with his blankets tugged tightly around him. Just emptiness.

Panic clutched at him now, fear fueling him as he moved down the hall, quicker and without the quiet steps he usually snuck around his house with. Throwing the door open to Charlie’s room her bed was also empty of the little princess.

Izzy felt his hands shake, sweat filling his pals as he tried to wipe it away as he moved to his bedroom, pushing open the door and letting the feeling of relief wash over him in a cold wave as he saw all three of his children piled in the bed. A mess of little kid limbs all filling the bed that he shared with his wife. His wife, who was absent from the pig pile on the bed.

The way the curtains from the small balcony they had attached to their bedroom swayed drew his eyes and he calmed as he saw the silhouette of his wife, standing outside, her long dark hair curled around her face as the wind pressed against her cheeks, darkening them.

It was a cooler spring and I was surprised she was in just her sleep pants and a tank top, none of her long sweaters or fluttering robes to keep her warm.

“Hey B,” her eyes lifted, red rimmed and hollow as she looked at Izzy. She had been crying and the fact he didn’t know why stuck him deep, “Baby B, what’s-”

“I need you to get some clothes from the closet and go sleep in the guest room or your office tonight,” She was looking at him, anger in her gaze but not yelling at him or letting it slip into her voice as she spoke.

It was the quietness, the way she was controlled because she knew her babies were sleeping and she wanted to keep a handle on things for them, that surprised him. Bernie wasn’t a yeller but she could get angry and snappy. To see her like this with him shocked Izzy.

He had never been banished from their bedroom before. Never been unwelcome in his marriage bed.

“I was at the hospital for four hours tonight with three children, Jeffrey. Alone. Mikey and Charlie both got a stomach bug so bad they hadn’t eaten. Jack was trying to stand in for you but he was scared because of all the crying and he shouldn’t have to. For Christ sakes, he’s a seven year old boy who knows more about being a man than his own father. And you,” She took in a shaky breath, “You just come home whenever you want and act like it’s not a big deal because you’re making music, living your dream without care. And I love that you make art and get to have that. I love that and hope you never lose it but honestly, you need to find a better balance. We need to find a better balance because I’ve been thinking of using my book royalties and moving to Maine to be closer to the ocean. I need something to change because I’m at my breaking point.” He blinked as she stood there, trembling, tears falling from her eyes.

Bernie was always beautiful but now Izzy looked at her and started to see the toll his absence was taking. She had lost weight, her clothes looser than usual. Her cheekbones were sharp and eyes sunken. Her beautiful long hair was haphazardly braided, flyaways coming out in every direction. The lips he loved kissing were chapped and bitten from stress.

She had been fading in front of him and he hadn’t noticed.

“Are they okay?” He felt guilty for asking but she nodded, looking past him at the kids on the bed who were asleep as their parents stood like strangers in the night air, “I’m sorry, Bern. I can not got to the studio tomorrow and help out.” He offered but she sighed, shaking her head.

It was like they were speaking a different language, unable to communicate and understand what the other was saying. Izzy could give up some time but that wasn’t what she was asking for from him. Bernie was just asking for the father of her child to be present and to be the father of her children in more than name.

“Goodnight, we can talk tomorrow. It’s late.” She touched his arm, like a consolation for kicking him out of the room. One small touch like she wasn’t furious with him. Furious like he was at himself for letting things get bad like this.

He knew he was being dismissed and as she passed him, slipping into bed he watched feeling like a stranger as Charlie rolled, crawling on top of her mother, her head nestled under her chin. Jack pushed Mikey against his mother, kicking his own foot out until his foot laid against her knee, his hand curling into hers. And Bernie soaked it all up, seemed not to care that she had no space and just nestled in with her babies.

Izzy was lost, had lost moments of familiarity with his family and he knew, as he moved through the darkness of his house to the office where he would be sleeping on the couch, that he had to fix this.

He had to fix his forever.

But how?

#izzy stradlin one shot #izzy stradlin gnr #izzy stradlin fic #izzy stradlin imagine #izzy stradlin fan fic #izzy stradlin fan fiction #izzy stradlin fanfic #izzy stradlin guns n roses #Izzy Stradlin #guns n rose fanfic #guns n roses imagine

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jinhua-shu · 1 year

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THE AFTER-EFFECT

Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN!Reader

PART ONE: OVERTHINKING

PART TWO: HIS POINT OF VIEW

PART THREE: HELPLESS

PART FOUR: THE AFTER-EFFECT

PART FIVE: I.. LOVE YOU.. DUMMY

MENTIONS 🫶:

@swivy123

Scaramouche held out a long sigh as he plops himself back down on his bed. his phone was dead therefore he couldn’t reply to Y/N’s confession. he grumbled loudly as he frustratingly pulled on his hair in annoyance. that stupid charger he bought from Dori who egged him on to buy it because it’s very “Fast” charging. didn’t work. once again, he grabbed his pillow and screamed onto it.

Nahida sweat-drops as she passed by scara’s room hearing the loud grumbling and frustrated muffled screeches.

Dottore chuckles to himself as he sat on Childe’s office chair with a long smirk on his face.

‘My.. i should really stop.. screwing with him huh.’

He said as he placed down scaramouche’s phone that he had lost “accidentally” while he was at Physical Education class, 2 months ago.

Childe chuckles, ‘Well.. i think it would be best to just stop this thing.. before lumine finds out and beats me up.. haha—‘

Dottore choked back an amused snort. before standing up to open scara’s phone once more to delete the messages before you can read it.

Dottore’s heart leaped, as he reads the response from you. he sweated heavily before throwing the phone towards Childe.

‘seems like we’ve messed up.. better face lumine tomorrow then.’

Childe reads your response twice before wincing. ‘uh.. we’ve broken the chance of our dear comrade getting a significant other.. ‘ Childe awkwardly chuckles as he just chucked the phone inside dottore’s messenger bag.

Dottore heaved out a sigh as he sat back down. ‘well.. it’s his problem now—‘

Childe shook his head. in disappointment before chucking once more awkwardly.

‘ how do we tell him-?’ childe asks Dottore ‘…i don’t know.’ Dottore replied to childe.

Lumine sighs as she went back to your door with a heavy heart. she glanced down on the floor to see the bell still there. she cannot just leave you be.. because she had felt the same thing. she had experienced the same thing.

Lumine knocked before entering the room..

‘Hey.. what’s up?’ she asked as she laid down next to you.

‘well.. i got rejected..’ you said as you sniffed and smiled at lumine. ‘I’m.. happy.. at least the heavy weight in my heart has been lifted.. i don’t ha-have to worry..’ you told her before breaking down once more.

‘But.. i cannot help but cry.. he’s.. the only guy who’ve made me feel this way before..’ you sobbed as you hugged lumine, wetting her white hoodie with your tears while crying your hearts out.

‘Lulu.. i don’t know what to do.. i can’t just forget him and move on.. i love him so much..’

Lumine smiled bitterly. ‘sometimes you just gotta let go of the things you loved the most. sometimes you just gotta let the wave flow and let go of him..’

‘I know it would be very hard. but please rely on me while you’re in this state..’

Lumine finished off before going through her thoughts. (( I would treat you better than him. so please let me and open your eyes for me. ))

Lumine hugged you tightly as she ran her hand through your hair. humming a song that her brother used to hum.

Scaramouche wanders off towards his wardrobe to look for his wallet that he threw. still frustrated he needs to buy a new charger to finally reply to your confession and.. hopefully be with you.. and have you accept him for his flaws or imperfections.

grumpily grabbing his wallet that’s near his shoe rack, he took his jacket that’s nestling in his closet.

‘Nahida, i’m going out to buy some new charger. don’t wait for me for lunch since i’ll be dropping off at y/n’s.’

Scaramouche told nahida who was ordering food for lunch. as he walks towards the door, nahida went and stopped him for awhile.

‘I hope that.. you’ve sorted out your feelings for her.. because i’m very proud of you.’ nahida smiles as she hugged scaramouche before going off back to the kitchen.

scaramouche stood there stunned before shrugging off the warmth with determination.

‘Y/N.. please wait for me.. ‘

He mumbled to himself as he tied his shoes tightly before opening the door and rushing towards the Nearby 7/11 that’s just 4 minutes away from his house.

Grabbing a charger without looking at the price, he immediately went to the cashier to pay for it.

‘can i use your charging port?’ he huffed as he slammed the money on the counter, terrifying the cashier. the cashier nodded their head shakily before apologizing for looking at scara right at the eyes.

pathetic. scara thought as he calmly walked towards the charging station to plug in his phone. waiting impatiently scara grumbled before going off to an aisle to buy milk bread and some banana milk.

Childe was seen running down the streets with scara’s old phone in his hand, Huffing and wheezing loudly, he turned a corner to check if scara is still at 7/11, which he is. scara was seen paying for the bread and milk he got before heading off towards the charging station once again.

Child entered the CVS, with an awkward smile plastered on his face.

‘what’s up with you? idiot.’ Scaramouche egged on childe who approached him, while rummaging through his pockets to look for something. scaramouche’s eye brow went up as he was curious on whatever childe is going to do.

‘Here.. your phone.. i found it-?’ childe awkwardly chuckles before scratching the back of his head nervously.

scaramouche glared at the tall ginger seemingly knowing that he and dottore took it.

‘ “found” it? you must be shittin’ me. i knew it was with you and Zandick. that dickhead took it and wanted to put the blame on you, didn’t he? ‘

scaramouche snarls at the ginger man who was still nervously scratching the back of his head, before snatching the “Old phone” that he had “lost”.

Childe gulps his saliva in fear. before opening his mouth to say something.

‘Sca— comrade— we did something bad-‘

scara rolled his eyes as he snorts.

‘ Don’t you guys always do something “bad”? ‘

‘well— yeah— but you’re also apart of it, you know-‘

‘ You didn’t hear me say, “i am not apart of it” did you? ‘ scara groans as he kicked Childe’s shin hard.

Childe who’s now on the floor, gripping his shin groaning and moaning in pain. finally told scaramouche what they did.

‘ Scara.. you see— me and Dottore actually wanted to mess with you for awhile.. so we decided to answer the confession.. you got from Y/N.. and.. we’ve gone too far.. we were originally going to delete it fast but they read the message quite quickly! we thought they were asleep at the time.. ‘

scaramouche stopped on his tracks.. gripping his old phone tightly as the screen began to crack. viens prominent on his hand as he squeezed his old phone. Scara’s eyes darken as he felt his heart drop. they did what now? he thought as he grabbed Childe’s collar in frustration.

‘What? you thought that playing with someone’s feelings is funny? you piece of shit. no wonder lumine doesn’t fucking like you back. ‘

Scara heatedly said as his eyes becomes wider and bros furrowing deeper.

Childe gags as he taps on scara’s tight hand that’s holding the collar of his shirt.

‘ he-hey calm down—‘

scara’s smiled at Childe.

‘ Calm down? you made me feel like i want to kill you right here. you’ve hurt their feelings, by doing that little prank of yours. the “little” thing is the same size of your dick and brain. and it’s pathetic. ‘

Scaramouche snarl’s before letting Childe go.

‘i’m warning you. Tartaglia. if i see your face again. i’ll make sure to make your little high-school life hell. ‘

Scaramouche growls loudly as he glares down at Childe who’s wheezing for air. he spat at childe’s shoe before turning away to control his temper.

Scara looks towards the cashier, eyes empty and in void as he plugs out his charging phone to go on his way.

How do i..? fix this mess. those two idiots really went too far.

Oh.. Y/N.. will you still accept me right at your door.. if i show up?

TO BE CONTINUED

— Last part will be out soon.

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upheavalofmemory · 2 years

Text

pick a card | comfort

Hello lovelies. Need some comfort before you rest your head? I am here to assist.

Pick a pile before you drift off to sleep, or whenever you feel called to read a message. Some shufflemancy will also be done, featuring Sleeping at Last's Atlas I album (one of my favorite albums and one I find lots of comfort in <3).

All piles are written while I listen to the songs. Piles are inspired by impressionist artwork provided by the National Gallery of Art.

Pile 1

You're on a journey, and it's almost over my love. the uphill battle will soon be calm waters, you just need to take one final leap of faith. the world is in your hands, the universe loves you, and you are loved. Your luck is changing and you'll soon be able to swim in the riches of your hard labor. Don't give up now, you're almost there <3 You don't see it now, but you are like a tree, all of your roots are below you and you are so grounded, nothing can push you down now.

Pile 5 may also resonate with this group.

Cards: Page of Bows (stoat), Nine of Stones (tradition), The Wheel, Queen of Vessels (salmon), The World

Pile 2

There is some generational trauma here, and I want you to know that you're going in the right direction to overcome it. Remember not to fall back into the cycle, but if you do, the universe has it's hand out for you to be lifted right back up. You are protected and little bird, it's okay if your wings are tired, you will rise again.

Page of Arrows (wren), The Green woman, the guardian, the seer, three of bows (fulfillment)

Pile 3

This is an instrumental song. Please breathe. Why do you feel so hurt? Your emotions ebb and flow with the tide, you may feel overpowered or overburdened by your emotions, but I want you to know that it is your strength. Like the mighty ocean, she doesn't change herself, she is powerful, all-mighty. You can look at her negatively, see her anger and how she kills, or you can look at her for how much life she holds, how beautiful she is, and the secrets she has yet to unveil. You have the ability to make any decision you desire, do not let the thoughts of others sway you so easily, like the tide. Remember your roots. Remember that you are life.

page of arrows (wren), two of bows (decision), the world tree, the mirror, eight of arrows (struggle), king of vessels (heron)

Pile 4

You may be carrying lots of responsilibites at this time, but you are at peace. Know that the weight you carry is appreciated by those you love, you aren't doing this for nothing. Remember that you are worth more than just the services you provide and remember that your loved ones don't only love you for that reason, they love you for you. They want you to rest, please rest well and easy, they will help with the load if you simply ask. You are a provider but don't forget to provide for yourself too.

King of arrows (kingfisher), eight of bows (hearthfire), the world tree, ten of bows (responsibility).

Pile 5

Ah yes, you are the embodiment of love. You are loved, so loved. I feel like you forget this sometimes, but please, let yourself be swallowed in the sea of love and care and admiration.

Okay, this is so weird and completely changes the mood but...it says that this song has lyrics when it's instrumental and funny enough... it's the lyrics to Faith by George Micheal. When I think of this song, I immediately think of the movie Sing as well so... these things might be significant to you or they may be a sign??

Also pile 1 might resonate with you as well, it's the same exact cards almost.

Six of Bows (abundance), the wheel, page o bows (stoat), tradition, queen of vessels (salmon)

Pile 6

Oh this is heavy, who hurt you pile 6 :(? ooo! I got a card I've never seen before.

You may feel like you need to continue to keep your walls up pile 6, but I want you to know that someone is going to come and sweep you off your feet pile 6. They will love you so much and they'll be so angry for you against whoever hurt you pile 6. They won't be afraid of you and who you are, they'll welcome all of your pain and love and everything you have to offer, this love is unconditional. They'll do anything to protect you and help you heal if you allow them. They'll go right into the storm of your emotions until you both can get away safely. You'll be overflowing with feelings of being loved and healed, I am happy for you pile 6.

the clock was also at 12:22 when I ended the reading, and I feel called to include a second song as well (Mercury by Sleeping at last)

two of vessels (attraction), knight of arrows (the hawk, this may be this person), nine of vessels (generosity), queen of stones (bear, this is you <;3)

#tarot #tarot reading #pick a card tarot #pac tarot #love tarot #pick a pile #pick a pile tarot #comforting messages tarot #upheavalofmemory #uomTAROT

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sabraeal · 3 months

Text

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

“Yuuta.” Names have never been Shirayuki’s forte; she struggles with Sarah and Sara, crosses her fingers when she comes across a Siobhan or a Ciaran, and now labors to decipher whether this is a ‘u’ sound or an ‘oo’ sound— gosh, it might even be a ‘uu’ situation, which is a whole other disaster entirely—

“Does he have a last name to go with that?” Obi murmurs, just loud enough for her to catch it. Well, so she hopes. “Or maybe you could just ask him for his number. Skip the whole swiping song-and-dance and just get down to—”

“Could you spell that for me?” she asks, a hair louder than necessary, hoping her smile doesn’t flicker under pressure the way old fluorescents do . “The patient’s name, I mean.”

“Oh! The…the patient’s…” Her well-meaning visitor shuffles, pink flaring up right under the spray of small freckles across his cheeks. It really is just like being back at the old B&B again, trying to smother a laugh as the sweet retriever from down the street keeps bringing back the wrong ball. “Right, of course. You need the patient’s…god, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking…”

“Happens all the time.” She bites back a smile as pink blooms into carnelian red. “We don’t tend to see people at their most put-together here.”

“Haah, right, makes sense.” His tanned hand digs into the tousles mass of his hair, sending it wild. It's a charming look, she has to admit. Makes her wish there were Beggin’ Strips for people too— he looks like he could use a treat. “Just feels a little stupid, that’s all. Not like you could look me up. In a patient registry, I mean.”

“You got a Tinder, though?” Obi crosses an knobby ankle over his knee, pant leg riding up enough to show the chili peppers on his socks. “OkCupid? Plenty of Fish?”

"Uh." The man blinks, first at him, then at her, as if she might confirm that this line of questioning is somehow part of the official visitor registration process. It's not. “Y-yes?”

"Ooh?" Obi pitches forward, fingers poised over the app store. “Which—?”

“Obi.”

“What?” Having reached the end of his leash, her wayward hound finally comes to heel. With a tug of his coat, he slouches back, not a hint of contrition lingering in that smirk of his. “I was just wondering.”

She lets her glare do the heavy lifting as she repeats, “What was the name again?”

“Ah, my dad’s? Katsu. Katsu Baudin.” The man coughs, clearing his throat. “And I’m, uh, his son. Yuuta.”

“We know,” Obi chirps helpfully as she puts in her login. It shouldn’t work— IT’s supposed to update the registry at midnight, and she’s been legally off payroll for three days— but the system only takes a long, hard think and rolls over, displaying patient information with the same enthusiasm as a dog wagging its tail. “With two ‘u’s?”

“Uh…”

Her visitor— Yuuta— glances at her, but she’s too busy tallying the number of security and privacy regulations violated to give him much more than, “Katsu Baudin, Room 7760.”

There should be some palpable relief on the air, or at least the barest whiff of gratitude, but instead their wayward visitor shuffles awkwardly behind the counter, not flushed but— strained, maybe. “Um, sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain or anything, but do you think—?”

“Two floors down.” Wistal is hardly as labyrinthine as Wirant— built into a hill, each wing designed to be the magmum opus of architects thirty years apart, resulting in atria so beautiful they graced the covers of Architectural Digests and hallways so nonsensical as to be be hostile to human life, with entrances on every floor between the first and the fourth besides the third— but with each level laid out exactly like the last, it’s easy to get turned around. “If you go straight out from the elevators, take your second right. 7760 should be down that hall on your left.”

“Ahh, right, thanks. That’s…a huge help.” He hesitates, gaze fixed down the hall as if it were a thousand yards instead of five. His fingers fingers drum nervously on the counter top. “I don’t want to— I mean, it’s just—”

He hangs his head, dark eyes huge and pleading as they peer up from under that fluffy flop of hair, as helpless as a dog that’s found a door it can’t nose open. “I suck at directions.”

It takes every last ounce of her self control to keep only the corners of her mouth twitching. “That’s no problem at all. Just let me call down to their desk and give them the heads up that you're coming. Then you can go there and have someone take you right to the room.”

“Oh!” His head snaps up, eyes so wide she can nearly see a waggling tail behind him. “You can do that? Er, I mean…I wouldn’t want to put you out…?”

In Wilant there would have been some grumbling, some pointed questions about just how many times his parents had dropped him on his head as a child if he couldn’t go two floors down and take a turn without getting it all twisted, but here—

Shirayuki glances across the hall, catching a flash of pale hair above a designer button-down, of a profile that has graced more covers of GQ than she’s got fingers on one hand. As exceptional as Izana is, she doubts that’s even the most impressive statistics on the floor. There’s a husband just around the corner she’s pretty sure has a collection of Super Bowl rings. Recent ones, considering all the rubbernecking outside their door.

“They’re used to worse,” Obi offers, so helpful as he scrolls. “A little hand holding isn’t going to break the scale.”

Yuuta blinks down at him. “Er, all right. If you’re sure.”

“Please,” he scoffs, slouching further into the ergonomic plastic. “Unless you’re bringing your mistress to watch your wife go through labor, no one's even going to—”

“Just a minute!” Shirayuki smiles as she picks up the phone, refusing to acknowledge anything over her shoulder. “Let me see what I can do.”

There may be no phone trees or music on internal lines, but there’s still plenty of waiting, especially with no voicemail for stale calls to be shunted to. Still, it’s only a few minutes before someone picks up— a nurse fresh from shift change, happy to take of ‘that old charmer’s baby.’ Watching Yuuta’s back disappear into the elevator makes a nice ending to an unplanned long night, and Shirayuki—

“What, you aren’t going to go with him?” Obi leans back in his chair, straining the ergonomic claims of those cushions. “Make sure the prodigal son makes it back home? Maybe hold his hand a little?”

“I think he’ll manage just fine.” She blows out her cheeks as she sits, letting her mouth settle into her sternest frown. “Now, I trust you deleted that thing?”

“Me? No. I’ve swiped right on three real studs already. And let me just say” —he presses a hand to his chest, the silk of his tie rumpling under the pressure— “I chose better for you than you choose for yourself.”

“Obi!” It’s a strangled noise, one she just barely keeps to quiet-hours guidelines. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in—!”

“Trust me, Miss,” he soothes, entirely too smug. “You’ll be interested in these guys. Or at least their traps.”

“I thought we agreed that—”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” His eyebrows may twitch up to angelic heights, but his attempts at innocence are ruined by the downright sly curl his mouth takes. “You said I should, and I declined to take your advice.”

All at once, the fight seeps out of her, leaving only the weariest sigh in its wake. “Obi…”

“Aww, come on, now, Miss. No need to go borrowing trouble yet. It's not like you've matched.” His lips twitch. “Yet. But let’s be real, who could say no to a knock-out like y—?”

“You are going to delete that,” she informs him with all the authority of a limp dish rag. “Right now. While I can watch.”

“Aw, Miss,” he whines, using only the most pitiful pitches. “I’m just helping.”

Shirayuki stares. “You think this is helping?”

“Of course.” His shoulders twitch, halfway between a shrug and a shield. “What better way to recover from a bad break up then having someone blow out your—?”

“Ah, no!” Her hand flies up, the flimsiest barrier between them. “Don’t— don’t finish that thought.”

“But, Miss—”

“I appreciate your…consideration,” she informs him, gracious. “Really, I do. But I think that maybe you and I process this sort of thing differently. Very…very differently.”

“I didn’t say you had to jump right into bed.” Though he sounds dubious on that order of operations. “But you could let someone take you out, treat you right. And then maybe on date three, you—”

“Three?” It’d taken almost six months for her to even kiss Zen, let alone even think about the sort of activities that might require the removal of clothes. And by then, it took them three months of planning to even get them in the same room. “Do people really…?”

“You know how it is, Miss.” Obi’s sprawled across the chair, lounging in a way its ergonomic bullet points were never supposed to accommodate, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes settle on her. “People are busy nowadays. Not much time to take it slow.”

“I have time.”

Shirayuki nearly jolts straight out of her chair. “Ryuu?”

(Shirayuki’s not given to believe in the supernatural— not ghosts, not ESP, not sixth senses that seem to only work in hindsight— but she’ll give Yuzuri this: her ability to locate her anywhere in this rabbit warren of hallways is downright occult.

“Have I got the goss for you, girl,” she squeals, stealing a baby carrot out of her lunch box as she slips into the empty seat beside her. It’s all empty seats in the break room right now, but Yuzuri rolls even closer, voice pitched low. “Word on the street is that Ryuu’s got something going on with the new intern.”

“In Imaging?” It’s hard to picture her— she’s a shy thing, always disappearing behind a white coat as a cart turns a corner, just a blonde ponytail above pink scrubs. “I guess they’re around the same age.”

“Same age,” Yuzuri scoffs, gnawing on her ill-gotten gains. “Is that what you think people care about? The same age? No, this girl is like…his type.”

That doesn’t sound quite right, not to her ears. “I don’t really think Ryuu has—”

“Of course he does. Everyone has a type, Shirayuki, even you.” Her voice drops to mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “Even if you don’t realize it.”

“I just mean that Ryuu hasn’t shown much interest in…anything like that.” Romance, she means. But if she says it, Yuzuri will probably counter with something about sex, and quite honestly, she’s not sure if she can handle Ryuu and... and that idea in the same sentence. “I’m not really sure he wants to, either.”

“Yeah, yeah, normally I’d agree with you,” Yuzuri says with a dismissive wave. “But this girl is like, smart. And super cute. Like freckles everywhere! And her laugh— seriously, you have to hear it. He like, smiled and stuff.”

Well, the smile is a start. “Is that what his type is? Smart and cute? Freckles?”

“I mean, basically right?” Her hand flop open into something between a slouch and a shrug. “That’s what you’re like.”

It’s a good thing there’s no silverware involved in eating hummus, otherwise it would have clattered to the floor. It’s sad enough that she’ll have to toss out this baby carrot casualty. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Yuzuri presses on, as if she didn’t just drop a detail more devastating than an atom bomb. “It’s not about you. It’s just that every guy wants to fuck their mom or whatever. Freudian stuff.”

Shirayuki has opinions on Freud— capital ‘O’ Opinions, as Obi likes to call them, along with, the kind that don’t get us asked back to the country’s finest conferences— but all she can manage is, “I think I’m more like a sister than a mother.”

Yuzuri shrugs. “Same difference.”)

“Ryuu.” Her hand slaps to her chest, as if that might keep her heart beneath it better than own her ribcage. Which might be true, from how hard its pounding to get out. Shirayuki can hardly blame it. “What are you…? Ah, I mean, were you…?”

It’s still strange to have to look up to meet his eyes, to see the way his face furrows with the beginnings of annoyance. “It’s now or not until after four. Should I come back?”

“Wha— oh, the ultrasound.” Now that she’s on her feet, she can see the cart at his side, loaded up with one of the mobile units he must have requisitioned from Imaging. “Are you doing it?”

“I said I would.”

There’s no humble shrug to go with his words, no inflection to imply emotion, just a simple recitation of the facts. “Well, yes, but I thought you would have one of the techs on shift come up and—”

“I had time.” His shoulders settle into stern angles as his chin lifts, as imperious as any MD. “Is there a problem with that?”

There’s a half dozen, starting and ending with how he’s the Attending today; someone who has a thousand more pressing responsibilities than doing some investigative ultrasound for her patient. But as much as she might try, the words won’t stick together in her mouth, won’t let her make anything but the most unconvincing sputter. “N-no, it’s only—”

“Aw, come on, big guy.” Obi saunters up to the counter, elbow brushing her shoulder as he furls himself up for a lean. It’s nice; steadying. “You know there’s no one else Miss would trust to do this more than you. But don’t big shots like you have busy schedules? I wouldn’t think you’d have the time to come help little old us.”

A stubborn red that clings to the tips of his ears. “As I said, I do. Is it in that room, there?”

His head bobs toward the door. There’s no one behind the window now, just a straight view from hall to window, blinds strung tight across the glass.

“Yes, 9060.” He’s already wheeling the cart towards it when she adds, “Izana should be with her, too.”

The cart squeals to a stop.

“Oh.” His knuckles blanch so white she can see bone where they grip the handle. “Then maybe I should come back. Later. After…”

He doesn’t finish the thought. Shirayuki frowns. “I don’t see why. Is there something wrong with—?”

“Oh, I get it.” Obi’s smirk stretches long into a leer as he leans toward her, voice pitched to be heard as he whispers, “I think he’s afraid of Her Majesty. Intimidated by laying hands on America’s Sweetheart. Little too famous for his blood, I—”

“I didn’t say that,” Ryuu grumbles, sullen. “I’m not laying hands on her anyway. It’s only the probe that will—”

“So it’s His Majesty then,” Obi amends, so considerate. It’s a struggle to keep her mouth from twitching, giggles straining behind her teeth. “Can’t say I blame you for that one, little guy. That guy makes me break out into a cold sweat.”

“I’m not afraid of Izana Wisteria.” The name snaps between his teeth, cold. “I just thought that if she has a visitor, she might not want to be interrupt—”

“You know, Miss.” It’s hard to call something as languid as Obi’s lounging aggressive, but that’s what it is— weaponized slinkiness, the way a cat weaves through legs at dinnertime. “If Ryuu thinks that this is too rich for his blood, you should really just get someone else to—”

“I’m doing it.” The cart squeals as it angles toward the door, wheels grinding with the same single-minded focus as Ryuu’s teeth. “I— I’m already going!”

He doesn’t so much march as storm over, shoulders hiked like pickets by his ears as he knocks at the door. “Excuse me,” he says, swinging it open. “Name and birth date, please.”

It shuts before she can hear Haki’s answer.

“Boo.” Obi doesn’t so much sit as he does slump, a puppet with all his strings cut. “He coulda kept that door open a smidge longer. I've heard that America’s Sweetheart fudged the date on her birth certificate to get that role in Mean Girls.”

“I doubt that.” Shirayuki spares him the flattest stare, fingers striking the keys with a pointed power as she logs out from the system. “Her family’s a big deal, aren’t they? Hollywood Royalty, isn’t that what Yuzuri called it?”

“Miss.” His shoulders shake along with his head. “Only you could ask if the Arleons were a big deal.”

Years ago she might have blushed, might have stammered out excuses about the how cable didn’t run out that far until she was in college, and the combination post office/movie theater in town only ran movies two years out of date, but now— now she simply says, “That proves my point, doesn’t it? There were probably newspaper articles about it. An entertainment Weekly birth announcement? Something. It can’t be much of a mystery.”

“There was also some website that counted down to her eighteenth birthday.” He shrugs, casual, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard. Then again, knowing Obi, it probably doesn’t even make the top thirty. “But you know, once you get a thing like that in your head…”

He lets his grin do the rest of the talking. Like all of his outrageous behavior, she simply ignores.

“Thank you for that, by the way.” One of his narrow brows hikes up toward his hairline, and she clarifies, “With Ryuu. You’ve always known how to handle him better than I do.”

“You do just fine.” The seat creaks as he tucks his thigh against its arm, elbow lazily hooking over his knee. “He just needs a little heat to get him into the kitchen sometimes. And you’re not someone who’s comfortable with turning it up. Especially when it comes to Ryuu.”

Shirayuki doubts her interns would agree with that particular assessment, but she simply says, “Thank you anyway. If you hadn’t been here, I think we really would have been waiting until four.”

Obi hums. “Oh, I’m not sure about that, Miss. Seems like you handled it just fine the other day.”

She blinks. “The other day?”

“You know.” His shoulders twitch, the laziest suggestion of a shrug. “Ms. Luteal Cyst?”

(The cart wheels catch on the threshold, casters making a nasty ka-crack as they struggle over the metal strip. The noise alone has got her grimacing, but when she sees the close-cropped dark hair, so like Obi’s now that all the curls have been left on the barber shop floor, her mouth pulls thinner still.

“Ryuu.” He’s supposed to be on days this week— at least according to the schedule posted up in the break room— but yet he’s here, wincing as the last wheel wails across the floor. Ah, and he’s gotten the squeaky cart. “I didn’t think you’d be…?”

In, she wants to say, but doing the tech’s job keeps trying to elbow its way out at the same time, and instead the question just hangs, awkward.

“Oh, Shirayuki.” He blinks, first at her, then as he leans out the door, as if—

“This is the right room!” she assures him, a laugh startling out of here. “It’s just a slow shift, so I though I might keep my friend here company while she waited.”

“Oh.” The girl sinks further into her pillows as he stares, withering under the stern furrow of his brows. Shirayuki’s half-tempted to tell her that it’s not personal, that without regular reminders, Ryuu’s face defaults to forbidding. “The gel’s going to be cold.”

“I-I don’t care.” She lifts her chin, defiant; a challenge if he means to make it one. “Anything’s fine as along as my baby’s okay.”

Ryuu shoots her a wary glance across the bed— don’t let this girl have emotions on me, it says, loud and clear— before he turns back to the computer, fingers clacking pointedly across the keys. That leaves her to help the girl lift up her johnny, rearranging blankets and drop cloth so her legs and clothes are covered, terrible mesh underwear and all.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” The words might be for Ryuu, but Shirayuki keeps smiling down at her patient, trying to keep her in the conversation. “Usually we don’t have doctors doing untrasound, but Dr Goldregen sometimes helps out when there’s a bit of a scheduling back up—”

“Or when the tech no-shows.”

Her smile stiffens. “O-or that.”)

“Ah…” Shirayuki shakes her head. “That didn’t have anything to do with me. Mihaya was late for shift change—”

“Must be nice to have a wing of a hospital named after your family,” Obi muses, head tilted over the back of the chair. “Then you can just waltz into work at any old time, and everyone just says ‘thank you for your time.’”

“I don’t think anyone says that to him,” she snorts. “And he does a passable job when he’s here, so—”

“So no one can fire him.”

Shirayuki struggles against a smile. “So no one can fire him. Ryuu just got here early for shift change and saw there had been a request pending for over an hour. It had more to do with being efficient than helping me.”

Obi hums, unconvinced. “I think you underestimate just how much that kid likes to please you. Maybe he didn’t know it was your patient or whatever, but I bet he showed off once he knew you were there. Probably had good bedside manner and everything.”

(The girl yips at the first touch of gel on her stomach, but Ryuu doesn’t even flinch, already pressing the probe down to spread it around. “It’s cold!”

He sends her a sidelong look. “I did warn you.”)

“Not…measurably.” It’s effort to keep her tone even. “Ryuu respects my opinion, but he’s really not the sort of person to give special treatment just because—”

“I’m done.”

“Ryuu!” Zen used to joke about putting a bell on Obi— or at least he did, before Obi sent him an Amazon link to a few human-sized collars— but Shirayuki is beginning to wonder if they might need to find one for Ryuu. Last thing they need is for him to startle someone into coding. “A-already?”

He nods. “One sac.”

Shirayuki frowns. That’s hardly what she expected. “Are you sure? Sometimes it’s tricky to see if—”

“I checked for a posterior placenta too.” His shoulders twitch, the barest shrug. “Sometimes hyperemesis gravidium is just hyperemesis gravidium.”

“I guess.” There’s just something unsatisfying about saying it’s hormones; something that feels dismissive rather than diagnostic. “I just could have sworn…”

“What I said before.” Ryuu clears his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than right here, standing in front of the nurse’s desk. “About not doing it again.”

“I know, I know.” She sighs, waving a hand. “It was already kind of you to do it this time— and personally too. I won’t ask again.”

“No, that’s not…” His lips press tight, a white line cutting across his face. “I mean, I’ll do it, if you really need it.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“In a few weeks,” he tells her, stern, as if she might turn around and tell him to go back in there. “There’s things that might not show up now. Rare things. But…things.”

“That’s really kind of you, Ryuu.” For anyone else, she might reach out— pat their shoulder, shake their hand— but for him, she just smiles. But the way he straightens, it’s enough. “But I’d hate to bother you after—”

“It’s not a bother. If you think something’s wrong, I believe you.” It’s been ages since he was the boy genius, a teenager that trembled when he walked onto the floor. But there’s shades of it now in the way he looks at her, gratitude and trust and affection all tangled up into something that makes it hard to look away from his too-blue eyes. “Garrack always told me that you have good intuition. My own experience agrees. It would be foolish to deny that based on something so subjective as statistics.”

It must be a little too earnest even for him, since he shakes himself, quickly adding, “I have other things to do today. Goodbye.”

He rolls off, squeaky cart wheel wailing, and all she can do is stare at his back.

Obi snorts. “No special treatment, huh?”

She’s not sure how to answer, but she’s saved from having to figure it out when Obi’s phone blings obnoxiously. “What’s that?”

He glances down at the screen, mouth unfurling into a terribly devious grin.

“Why look at that, Miss,” he drawls. “Looks like we got a match.”

#obiyukimadness24 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #seven suitors #seven swipes #my fic #bodyguard crush #ans #oh we are drawing ever closer to the end of the original Ch 1 #i think in the next two chapters I'll be able to get it wrapped up #and then i'll have to think about what the heck i'm gonna do with Aoi 🤣

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rocknrollbabe14 · 2 years

Text

Rainbow in the Dark

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. ADULT THEMES HEAVILY DISCUSSED.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of bleeding, grief, loss, depressing behaviors, sexual situations, smut, sex (p in v sex), breeding kink? maybe? (depends how you look at it I guess but I intended it to be more like a husband just really wanting another baby with his wife because that's both of their end goals). If I forgot anything, let me know.

Author's Note: This part one. There will be a part two to this. I am working on several different things right now so please bare with me and be patient. :) This is the start of a Dad!Joe series. I will be making a separate section on my master list. This follows my "Stuck With You" series which can be found on my master list :)

@josephs-quinns @kellysimagines

It had been one week past Amelia's third birthday. It was hard to believe your baby girl was three years old. To you and your husband, Joseph it felt like it had just been yesterday. You and Joe had been keeping a secret from your three-year-old daughter—you were pregnant again. You were ten weeks pregnant. You had begun to experience morning sickness—the first sign you were pregnant again. That was one of the first signs you were pregnant with Amelia.

Your last check-up was perfect—Baby Quinn was growing on schedule, and everything looked great. That's what your OB had said. At your daughter's third birthday party you had to sneak away every few hours—becoming nauseated at the slightest thing, especially certain food. You were living on saltines and water that particular day. Some were worse than others. His mom would come in the bathroom and check on you while Joe was busy trying to help with the party. Joe would make his way in the bathroom a few minutes after his mom, however, saying he was never too busy to check on you.

You'd smile even after throwing your guts up, knowing Joseph was an amazing dad. You had picked an amazing man to be the father of your kids. Joe was super excited that you were pregnant again. You all had decided since Amelia was getting ready to turn three, it was a good time to start trying again. It didn't take long for you all to end up pregnant. Today, you felt super fatigued. No nausea or vomiting. You hadn't had those in a few days. Joseph was leaving to do an interview, stating he should be home fairly early.

You decided to start cleaning the house—Joe insisted on light housework. Only sweeping, laundry, dishes, and tidying up rooms. No mopping, vacuuming or lifting heavy things. He would do those for you. You had a load of laundry started, Amelia was down for a nap for the time being. You decided to close your eyes just for the length of her nap.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of your alarm going off—Amelia's pediatrician recommended an hour nap now that she was three and would be starting preschool next fall. You raised off the couch, feeling a slight gush. Nothing major, but enough to cause concern to grow. It felt more like a period that you wouldn't be having right now. Your face crinkled in confusion, placing a hand on your stomach easily. You were cramping worse now.

Ascending the stairs, you made the first stop in the bathroom. Just to check everything. You were paranoid. You couldn't help it. You slid your sweatpants down easily, immediately seeing bright, red blood.

"Oh shit.", you sighed easily. A sick feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach. You gulped down your emotions quickly.

You had never bled like this with Amelia. A little spotting, but nothing in comparison. You quickly debated what course of action to take. Within seconds, you decided going to the emergency room was the best choice. You'd call Joe once you got there, not to worry him right at the second. You slid out of the bathroom easily, going to Amelia's room. She was still sleeping. You took a deep breath, trying to find Joe's mom and dad's number.

"Hello dear.", his mom sing-songed into the phone.

"Hey, is there a chance you could watch Amelia for me?", your voice was shaky, on the brink of tears but you were choking those back.

"Absolutely dear, is everything okay?"

You silently shook your head but realized she couldn't see you. You'd have to use words. "No, I'm bleeding."

His mom was silent on the other end of the line. "Oh—okay dear, are you home?"

You could tell the change in her voice. She was concerned, realizing this situation was serious.

"Yes, Amelia's asleep but I'm gonna wake her up and I can bring her to your all's house.", you sighed, wondering what was going to happen.

"Okay, sweetheart. Just don't rush. Do you want me to call Joseph? Are you sure you're okay to drive? Do we need to come and get you?"

"No—not yet. I'll be okay. I'm going to go to the emergency room and see what they say."

"We'll just come to you, dear. Just stay home and we'll be right there.", his mom insisted.

"Okay, thank you.", your voice broke, and you felt the tears coming.

"Alright, honey. We love you. We'll be right there."

"We love you.", you sighed, the tears finally sliding down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped them away with your long sleeves as you opened the door to Amelia's room, immediately putting on a brave face for her. She was starting to wake up, rubbing her eyes.

"Hey baby.", you sniffled slightly, eyeing her.

"Hi, mommy."

You kissed her head, brushing through her shoulder-length curly hair. It was just like Joseph's. Identical.

"Did you sleep good?", you asked her.

She nodded excitedly.

You kissed her head again, hugging her. She looked up at you with her big brown eyes. You felt like you were looking at a small copy of Joseph. You may have carried her for nine months, but she was Joe made over. Even some of her mannerisms.

"Listen, nan and grandad are coming to watch you for a little bit, okay?", you eyed her.

"Okay, mommy."

As curious as children usually are, you were glad she wasn't asking more questions. You sat there just watching her grab her teddy bear. The one she almost cried over—Joe caving and buying it for her. He couldn't stand to see her cry. When her lip trembled, he caved. Almost every time. She was his baby girl and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Ever since the day she was born.

"Do you want to come with mommy in her and daddy's room?", you asked her.

She nodded easily climbing off her bed as you both headed for your bedroom. You grabbed a few things just in case they decided to keep you. The photo of you and Joe with Amelia that was taken right after she was born caught your eye. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Eyeing your phone, you were timing how long you figured it would take Joseph's mom and dad to get to your house.

Before you knew it, your doorbell rang and you perked up instantly. You and Amelia headed downstairs and you opened the door, revealing Joseph's parents.

"Hey dear.", his mom smiled sympathetically before hugging you.

You exchanged hugs with both of them before Amelia popped out from around you.

"Nan! Grandad!", she smiled excitedly as she ran to them, her grandad picking her up and kissing her head.

"Do you need one of us to drive you?", his mom asked you quietly as Joseph's dad took Amelia and went into the living room and tickled her, causing her giggles to fill the room.

You shook your head. "I think I'll be okay."

"Dear, we just don't want anything to happen to you."

Part of you just wanted to be alone. You were beginning to instantly feel isolated, your emotions running wild inside of you. If something was going wrong with your pregnancy, you didn't much feel like having an audience. You loved Joseph's mom. She treated you like her daughter but you didn't want to cause her any more grief or pain in the process. If you were losing your baby, you just wanted Joe.

"I think I'll be okay. I don't feel dizzy or weak. I'll call you as soon as I make it to the hospital. Amelia wants to spend time with her nan."

His mom gave you a concerned, sympathetic glance. "Call us and let us know you made it. And if something else is happening, call Joseph. Please."

"I will.", you promised.

She hugged you again, you closing your eyes, listening to Amelia's giggles and her grandpa laughing with her.

"We love you, Y/N."

Her words replayed in your head as you drove to the hospital, the cramps becoming increasingly worse. You winced as you turned off, the hospital fifteen minutes away. Those fifteen minutes felt like an eternity. The hospital finally came into view and you pulled in near the emergency room entrance. You locked the car, grabbing your purse and small bag before going inside. You registered at the desk, telling them your symptoms.

Even the registrar's expression appeared concerning. The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach grew, realizing this probably wasn't going to end well. However, part of your mind wanted to remain positive. You waited in the waiting room for maybe three minutes before a nurse called you back. She took you to a private room, getting your vitals, height, and weight. She asked what brought you in today. You told her, describing your symptoms in detail.

Her eyes widened as she asked, "How far along are you?"

"Ten weeks and three days.", you sighed, looking at the tiled floor.

The nurse nodded. "I'll be back."

She vanished. You called Joe's mom very quickly in the meantime, letting her know you had made it safely. It was five minutes before the doctor came in.

"Mrs.Quinn, we are going to do some lab work if that's okay with you. When did your bleeding start? We are afraid you may be having a miscarriage.", the female doctor eyed you.

Miscarriage. That word knocked the wind out of your sails, sucker-punching your gut. You didn't want to believe that. You didn't want to admit that it was happening to you.

"Yes, that's fine. And today. Just today.", you sighed, trying to ignore the last sentence.

"Alright, we will be back, okay?"

You nodded, deciding it would be best to make the phone call to Joseph now. Your hands shook, tears threatening to fall as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it. You eyed your last ultrasound picture before moving to your call log, hitting Joseph's contact. It rang just three times before he picked up, startling you.

"Hey love, is everything okay?"

"Um you're not busy are you, Joe?", you sighed, your voice threatening to break.

"No, just finished up. What's wrong?"

He immediately sensed something was wrong in the sound of your voice.

"Is Amelia okay?", he asked, quickly.

"She's fine but I'm at the hospital."

"What happened, baby?", he asked suddenly, worry and concern evident in his voice.

"Um,", your voice cracked, tears beginning to fall. "Well, they're getting ready to do some lab work. They're afraid—just can you come to the hospital, please? I need you.", you begged.

"I'll be right there. Where's Amelia?", he asked quickly and you heard him shuffling on the other end of the line.

"At home with your mom and dad."

You heard him unlocking the car and getting in, starting it. You choked tears back, not wanting him to worry and speed trying to get to the hospital. You sighed, just wanting to hide under a rock. You hated this. This was something you had never dreamed would happen to you.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, baby. Just hold tight. I love you.", he said breathlessly.

You nodded, your voice breaking. "Okay, I love you too."

You clicked off your phone as the phlebotomist came in to draw those dreaded labs—the one that would test how much HCG was in your blood and would tell you whether you were losing your baby. Another part of you and Joseph. You watched your blood run into the tube, praying that your baby was alright and they could do something. They finished drawing your blood, and the phlebotomist slipping out of the room.

Joe slid into the room. His brown eyes were wide with concern. His was face crinkled between concern and confusion. Silent at first, he slid over to you, taking a seat in the chair beside the stretcher. He silently grabbed your hand, a sigh finally escaping his lips.

"They think you're losing the baby, don't they?", he asked quietly.

His words sent a pang through your chest. Seeing Joe hurt was the icing on the cake—the thing that was finally going to do you in.

You nodded.

He closed his eyes, rubbing behind his ear. This was a coping mechanism for him to try and focus on something else. His face was blank, no emotion evident. You wanted to break down and cry right then and there. He opened his eyes, water filling them now. It killed you to see him like this. If you were losing your baby, that was hard. But this was also hard—watching the man you love crumble in front of you.

He blinked several times to try and stop his tears from escaping. His face was growing flushed. You finally lost it, beginning to sob in your hands. You heard him begin sniffling, feeling his hand rub up and down your back, him kissing your head. You drew your hands away from your face. Joseph had tears in his eyes, one even sliding down his cheek. He took his free hand to wipe it away, keeping his eyes focused on you.

Truth be told, he felt gutted. But he was more worried about you. He knew this would hurt you, and make you feel like less of a woman. He knew he had to hold it together for you. It was okay to show you he hurt, but now he'd have to reel himself back in. You all had a three year old at home who needed you both. She was your all's life.

"I would have come immediately."

You looked up at him. "I didn't—I didn't want to worry you."

He smiled weakly as he wiped the tears sliding down your cheeks. "Baby, you have went through most of this alone. That kills me."

You sighed sadly. "It's okay. I just—did what I needed to do."

"It's not okay, I'm your husband. I want to be there for you."

He eyed your all's hands, admiring your wedding rings. You all said for better and for worse. This was worse. He placed soft kisses on your cheek, hoping to convey how much he loved you. There was absolutely no lust behind them. Joseph was one of the only things keeping you going right now. Amelia and Joseph. That's who you had to focus on.

"Mrs.Quinn.", the doctor's voice finally spoke, her entering the small room, causing you and Joe to immediately look in her direction.

"I'm Dr. Thomas. We're going to order an ultrasound to be sure and send you to the OB unit for tonight. We've reviewed your labs in comparison to your last doctor's visit. Your levels have dropped. There's no easy way to say this, but this leads us to believe you are indeed having a miscarriage."

You and Joe immediately exchanged glances, sobs beginning to escape you as you leaned over into him, crying. Joe took his free hand, covering his own eyes and doing his best not to cry. You heard small sobs he was choking back.

It finally clicked in your head—the cramps, the bright red, bleeding, nausea, and vomiting disappearing almost immediately.

Dr. Thomas eyed you both sympathetically. "I can imagine this is very devastating news. We are going to go ahead and transfer you to the OB unit. They'll get you settled in and do further assessments. I'm so sorry.", she spoke, leaving the room to give you all time to process this loss.

It was no time before two OB nurses came to take you both to the OB unit. They took you via stretcher. Joseph held your hand the entire way. He made the phone call to his mom that they were keeping you overnight.

"Hey mom, it's Joe. They're going to keep Y/N for the night. Yeah. Yes. Unfortunately, they think she's losing the baby.", his voice broke. "Tell Amelia we love her. Give her kisses from us. We love you too. Bye, mom."

You could only hear the one-sided conversation. Hearing him say it made you feel even worse—feeling like you failed as a mother. Your job was to keep your baby safe and you couldn't even do that. What kind of mom did Amelia have? The thoughts made you feel worse, slowly beginning to slip you into a depression. One it would take you a while to get out of.

The nurses gently helped you over into a bed. They helped you into a gown and change clothes. You prayed Joe didn't see where you had been bleeding. But it was so bad, it bled through your sweatpants. He noticed but didn't say anything. They took your vitals again, asking you the same questions the nurse had in the ER. The story was the same. You felt a gush and went to the bathroom, noticing bright, red bleeding. They assured you the OB would be in shortly. Dr. Bennett who delivered Amelia and had been with you from the beginning.

Dr. Bennett came in, her expression was more somber than usual. She greeted you both before explaining she was going to perform the ultrasound to see if it was a complete miscarriage. She put the cold gel on your stomach. The situation was so different in comparison to just a few weeks ago. You both were so happy to see your second baby. Joe's face was filled with excitement like it was Christmas morning, causing you to giggle at him. He had kissed your head, telling you how Amelia was going to be so jealous of her brother or sister.

Now, you both were anxiously waiting for her to say the word 'miscarriage'. Joe looked at you sympathetically as she began to run the transducer over your stomach, scanning your baby. It was still, not moving. Not bobbing about as it had been weeks earlier. A small whimper escaped your lips before you covered your face, beginning to cry again. You felt like you were losing a part of yourself. You were. It killed Joe to see you cry. He brushed his hand through your hair easily, before kissing your head, sniffling, and fighting his own tears back.

"I'm so sorry but you are having a miscarriage. Some tissue is left so we will be giving you some medicine to help you pass it since your body is having some issues doing it on its own. I'm so sorry, dear.", she eyed you.

Your all's worst fear was confirmed. She left to give you all some privacy. The world felt like it was crashing down on top of you all. You knew you needed to be thankful you all had Amelia but it didn't fix the fact that you'd never know who this baby would have been. Would it have been a boy or girl? Would it have acted like Joseph or you? Looked more like you or him? You'd never get to hold it in your arms, kiss its head, or rock it to sleep. It was a harsh reality to come to terms with.

The night was long, you or Joe barely sleeping. The medicine made you feel like you were in labor again but it was helping you pass your baby. Joe would go to the bathroom with you each time as you sobbed looking at the sight you left behind you. You all would stand in front of the mirror, him holding you in his arms as tight as he could, rocking you back and forth.

It was the same he had done when you were struggling, in labor with Amelia. You were in a lot of pain, trying to decide if you wanted an epidural or not. At that point, you were still unsure. He would just rock you back and forth in his arms, your IV pole in tow, kissing your head and telling you how strong you were and how amazing it was what you were doing for him—for you both. However, right now, you felt anything but. You felt weak and broken.

You were released the next day and told you had passed the majority at the hospital but if your bleeding was heavy and extended into another week to come back. Dr. Bennett wanted you back at the office in a week. Joseph's mom had brought some more clothes for you since the ones you wore in were soiled. You didn't need a more painful reminder right now. Joseph helped you put your clothes on, you wincing every time a cramp came. Joseph said you could go to bed when you got home. He'd get his parents to come back for your car.

Joseph held your discharge papers as they wheeled you down in a wheelchair. He had parked out front in anticipation for this moment. The last time you were wheeled out of this hospital, you had a baby in your arms. You had nothing this time. He opened the passenger door, careful to help you inside. You eased down, wincing and trying to keep from being weak and crying some more. The nurses and Joseph had seen enough of that in your opinion.

Joseph thanked the nurses for everything before he went to the driver's side and climbed in. He eyed you carefully. He could see the pain in your eyes and on your face.

"I love you.", he spoke softly.

"I love you too.", you turned to look out the window.

You dreaded going home in a way. It felt bad to say but you dreaded having to put on a brave face for Amelia. You didn't know if you could. Everything was ripping apart at the seams. Before you knew it, you had arrived home. Joseph shut the car off and got out before coming over to help you out. You hated moving as it hurt extremely bad.

"I'm so sorry, love. I wish I could take the pain away."

"It's fine, Joe. I'll make it.", you whimpered easily as he helped you stand up.

"I'm so sorry baby."

He helped you up the steps of your porch before he unlocked the door. You had missed the familiarity of home. Your favorite candle burning. It just smelled comforting. You heard Amelia and her grandpa playing which caused a small smile to spread across your lips. You stepped in first, sliding your shoes off, just ready to go to your all's room and go to bed.

"Go on and lay down, love. I'll take care of everything down here.", Joe smiled softly.

You could tell this was hitting him hard too, but he had a better way of reeling himself back in as to not show his emotions so much.

"Daddy?", Amelia called out loudly, instantly turning her attention from her grandparents.

You gulped, knowing she would come running for Joseph. She knew his voice even though he was trying to be quiet. Joseph's parents watched as she ran to you both.

"Daddy! Mommy!", she squealed as she ran to you both, Joseph picking her up instantly.

She kissed her daddy's cheek and it was the most adorable thing—the thing that usually made your ovaries ache. Now, it was making you ache differently. Trying not to ruin Joe and Amelia's moment, you turned away and held back tears. Joseph eyed you, noticing your silent pain.

"Daddy? Is mommy sad?"

Joseph looked back at Amelia. He was stunned and didn't know what to say.

"Well, yes. Mommy just had something sad happen to her.", he answered honestly.

She reached for you. "Baby?", Joe asked easily, causing you to turn around.

"Mommy.", she reached her hands out.

You couldn't help but come over to Joseph and allowed her to hug you while he held her. The doctor instructed you not to lift right now as it would make your bleeding worse.

"I love you.", Amelia smiled.

"Mommy loves you, Amelia.", you eyed her, choking back tears.

"Let's go play with nan and grandad, why don't we? Mommy needs to lay down and rest.", Joseph eyed her as he kissed her head again.

"Okay.", she agreed easily.

Joseph kissed you before telling you he loved you and he'd be up to check on you shortly. You immediately heard his mom and dad greeting him and asking him if you were doing okay. Continuing up the stairs, you opened the door to your bedroom, instantly feeling fatigued. You closed the bedroom door, slid into your bed, covered up, and lay there in silence. You were finally alone and cried in solitude. Joseph had been very supportive but they said mothers grieve differently than fathers.

This routine would go on for a couple of weeks before you finally found the strength and courage to get back to yourself. Joseph worried about you for two entire weeks. You barely ate and when you did, it wasn't a lot. You seemed very complacent. You weren't yourself but he understood. You both were suffering a loss. Somehow, he found strength in all of it and you admired him for that. That was one reason you married him in the first place. He always found the brighter side of things.

He was keeping Amelia very occupied. You felt guilty, feeling like Joe was playing both roles for those couple of weeks. Joseph insisted he didn't mind. You felt as if you were failing Amelia in the process. You were letting a baby you didn't know cause you so much grief. Joe reminded you that it was your all's baby and it was okay to grieve. Dr. Bennett cleared you and recommended you wait a little while to try again just for your mental health. There was no certain reason you miscarried and Dr. Bennett assured you not to blame yourself.

Joseph didn't push you to be intimate with him. Matter of fact, you worried you were growing apart. You knew sex wasn't everything but you hated lying in bed beside him and just sleeping all the time. Joseph sometimes fell asleep with Amelia after reading her a story. You tried to understand. But at times, it felt like he was rejecting you too. Every time of the month just reminded you that you lost your baby. You couldn't keep it safe no matter how hard you had tried.

Ten weeks had passed since you lost your baby. Joseph's mom and dad had agreed to keep Amelia for the evening so you and Joseph could go out to dinner. Dinner went fine and you felt as if you both reconnected after the tragedy you had faced. By the time you got back home, Joseph's mom and dad informed you Amelia was asleep. You all thanked them for watching her before you both went upstairs. Joseph sat on the bed, taking his shoes off before undoing his tie.

Quiet was thick between you all.

"Baby?", Joseph asked, turning to you.

"Yes?", you asked.

This was it. This was the moment he was going to tell you it was over. He couldn't do this anymore. He had been too stressed out taking care of Amelia and doing everything. You had failed them both too.

"Can I ask you something?"

You nodded, feeling the sick, anxious feeling rise in your stomach.

"Do you think maybe—we could try again?", he asked, unbuttoning his dress shirt halfway, revealing his chest. "Do you feel ready?"

You looked down at your bed. "I couldn't keep the baby safe."

Joe sighed easily before taking you in his arms. "Baby, it's nothing you did wrong."

"I've been such a shitty mother lately. I've let you and Amelia down. What makes you think I'll be a good mom to another baby?", you sighed, feeling pain in your chest.

Joe took your face in his hands easily, causing you to look directly in his eyes. "You're an amazing mother. You're so strong. You gave Amelia life, that's more than I could ever do. If it happens, it's going to be great. You'll be so adorable pregnant.", he chuckled, causing you to smile. "If not, we'll keep trying. This isn't a race. I just love seeing you as a mother. I love you, Y/N."

You couldn't help but let happy tears come into your eyes. "I love you too, Joe."

You both hugged deeply before sharing a kiss—one that was deeper.

"Why don't we relax first? They say it happens when you're relaxed and least expecting it.", Joe smirked at you, breaking the kiss.

You smirked. "You really did your reading?"

"Of course, love. I'll be right back.", he hopped off the bed, kissed you on the cheek, and headed straight for the bathroom.

You heard the water running as you stood up, sliding out of your dress. You let your hair down before taking your earrings out. The bathroom door opened, causing you to eye the door. Joseph was standing there in just his boxers. A smirk across his face. You felt your cheeks heating up. It had been around three months since you all had been intimate. He walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, coming over to you.

"Ready baby? The water's warm.", he smirked at you, feeling his breath on your cheeks.

"Yeah.", you smiled as he allowed you to walk in front of him.

The bathroom was warm, bubble bath in the bathtub, he turned the lights down and lit some candles. You were surprised. He came behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, before kissing your neck and laying his head on your shoulder. You sighed easily as he reached for your bra, beginning to undo it. You leaned into him, the final snap undone, and your bra found itself on the bathroom floor. He kissed your shoulder blades as his hands began roaming over your chest, finding your breasts, him giving them a gentle squeeze.

"So beautiful.", he breathed in a sigh as you felt your nipples perk up under his touch.

"You think so?", you hummed.

You had been self-conscious of them since you had Amelia and breastfed her. You didn't feel like they had ever turned to their normal before you got pregnant. They had grown while you were pregnant with Amelia. Nothing too major just a couple of bra sizes. Joseph didn't mind it, however, you felt self-conscious. Your clothes didn't fit like they did before you got pregnant. Joseph reminded you anytime you got frustrated about your size that you were growing a baby—specifically his baby.

"Mhmm, you always look beautiful."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you slid your underwear down, his hands moving to your hips. His eyes went wide, finally seeing you. It was a huge step for the both of you since the miscarriage. Joe was happy to see you returning back to your normal self. Joseph followed suit and removed his boxers, you catch the first glimpse of him in three months.

You watched Joseph climb in first, sinking himself down into the water, closing his eyes, and instantly relaxing. All he had on was one of his chains and your eyes widened, the familiar hot, aching feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. He was scooted towards the back of the tub, ready for you to join him. You gulped instantly as you threw one leg over into the bathtub, him holding onto your waist to steady you as you eased down into the water, your back turned to him.

You fit right between his legs, laying back against his chest. You heard him exhale a sigh of relief. The water was up to your breasts once you leaned back against him. The water sloshed as he brought one of his hands and wrapped it around your waist and the other near your breast. He hummed softly, resting his head against the wall, giving you a little more room to lean back into him.

"How does this feel?", he asked, softly.

It was very romantic and tender. You couldn't help but lean back into him further, really sinking into him and the water.

"Good.", you lightly moaned.

He smirked as he rubbed your waist. "You know what we should talk about?"

"What?", you hummed, the water warm and relaxing.

"I just want you to know that I know you've been stretched thin.", he kissed your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You could hear the water lightly splashing as you both barely moved, the bathroom quiet otherwise. You prayed Amelia would stay asleep. You just needed a little longer. It felt so euphoric to be this close to Joseph, nothing standing between you all. The water didn't take away from being able to feel his touch or the sensations between you all.

"Uh-huh.", you sighed, begging him to continue.

You felt his breath against your cool neck as he lightly chucked, continuing. "And I just want you to know what an amazing wife and mother you are."

"Is that so?"

He nodded. "Absolutely, love." He placed both of his hands on your hips, running them up your stomach before they both encompassed your breasts, easily rubbing your nipples causing you to moan softly, filling the bathroom.

"Just amazing what your body has done—don't you think? Carried our Amelia for nine months, gave birth to her, breastfed her—must I go on?", he breathed as he softly kissed your neck, moving one of his hands down your stomach.

"Joe."

"Hmm?"

"You're praising me for just doing what women are designed to do."

His one hand remained on your breasts, his fingers rubbing your nipple, perking it up. The other rubbed your thigh and you knew where it was about to go. You felt him poking you easily, he was hard. It made your breathing hitch. You just wanted to melt into him.

"I find it very amazing. You made it look so easy. It just made me want you that much more that you'd be willing to do all that so just we could have a baby.", he lightly groaned as his hands inched from your thigh towards your core.

You mewled at his words and he was only just beginning.

"And honestly, it's why I'm so damn determined to put another baby in you."

Your eyes shot open at his words, your core burning so hot. The room was starting to feel hot but you couldn't distinguish whether it was you or truly the room.

"You are?", you asked lightly.

"I am.", he cooed as two of his fingers slid into your folds causing you to moan. "Careful, not too loud baby or Amelia will wake up. I love when you moan loud but I really want to try to impregnate you tonight, don't you want that?"

You moaned quieter this time, nodding against him. "I do, Joe."

"Good. How does this feel?", he asked, working his fingers in and out of you slowly as he switched to your other breast, perking that nipple up causing you to squirm slightly, splashing water.

"So good.", you moaned lightly as you felt him getting harder against your back.

"Do you want me in you?", he asked. "Buried deep inside of you?"

You inhaled sharply, tossing your head back against his chest, feeling his leaning into yours. "Yes."

"I'll grab a towel and we'll go to the bedroom, sound good baby?"

You nodded.

Joe slid his fingers out of you just as quickly as they had entered you, causing you to mewl at the loss of contact. You needed him—-you were craving him. You leaned up enough to let him out of the bathtub, coming off your small high and realizing the water was becoming cool. You watched the water drip from his muscular physique before he grabbed two towels, wrapping one around his waist but it was impossible to miss his hard penis. It caused you to bite your lip.

He held the towel open for you as you pulled the plug, allowing the water to begin draining. You raised up, feeiling overly exposed as you stepped onto the tiled bathroom floor, Joe instantly wrapping you in a towel and pulling you in his arms. Your nipples were hard now from the cool air. He rubbed your back easily, kissing your head multiple times. You laid your head on his chest, just feeling relaxed from being in his embrace.

You both finally warmed up and were ready to shed your towels. You unwrapped from yours first, your wet hair touching your chest. Joseph eyed your body easily and you slightly felt like a bug under a microscope. Every morning when you looked in the mirror all you could see were your imperfections—specifically your stretch marks. There weren't many and they had faded but they were still visible.

Joseph seemed to read your mind. "Baby, they're not ugly."

"Are so.", you sighed, running your hands over them.

"Far from—just a reminder you carried our baby girl.", bent down on his knee, looking up at you before kissing them, causing you to close your eyes and run your hands through his damp, curly hair.

He came back up easily, his hands on your waist as he began to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the cool metal rubbing your forearms. You both had to be thinking the same thing as he slid his under your butt, lifting you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. He carried you out of the bathroom, kissing you deeper before you both came to the bed. He leaned over the bed, easing you down on the mattress with a soft thud, careful not to put all his body weight on you. He broke the kiss, looking deep in your eyes, a stray curling hanging down.

"Ready for me to put a baby in you?", he asked softly.

You nodded feverishly. "Yes.", you gulped.

That's all Joseph needed to hear. "Tell me how bad you want it, baby."

If you could sink further into the mattress, you would. You were blinking in anticipation for him, eyes hazily looking up at him. Maybe the heat had gone to your head. He was asking you feel under the influence. His hand ran through your hair before cupping your cheek, his brown eyes looking intently into yours.

"Joe, I want you, babe, so bad—make me pregnant, please.", you sighed under his touch.

This drove his desire further. He smirked as he leaned up and kissed your neck, down your chest, down your stomach. He looked up at you as you ran your hands through his curls. He groaned softly, closing his eyes. He wanted in you so bad he could hardly stand it. He had craved you for months but he understood you needed time to heal mentally, emotionally, and physically. He wasn't going to rush you. This was hard for you to understand and cope with.

Joseph leaned up easily, stroking himself in front of you, never breaking eye contact with you. You kept your eyes steady on him before looking down and seeing him take himself in his hands, stroking up and down his length, hissing easily.

"God, you're just so beautiful. I've been waiting for this night for months.", he smiled down at you.

His words caused a sigh to escape your lips before you ran a hand softly down your chest, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. He chuckled softly continuing to stroke himself. He was fully erect, his length never ceased to baffle you. It was like rediscovering him each time.

"Careful or you're gonna end up cumming on my tummy and not in me.", you mocked him from earlier.

He snickered at your coy response before throwing his head back. "We don't want that."

You shook your head. "Nope."

He suddenly stopped stroking himself, eliciting a groan at the loss of contact. "All I can think about is how adorable you look pregnant. I swear.", he groaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Really?"

He nodded. "And how amazing it is that you're carrying our baby—a part of both of us.", he eyed you as you felt him, without warning, shove himself deep inside of you, instantly stretching you.

You closed your eyes, gasping at the sensation of him stretching you. The slight burning soon turned to pleasure faster than you could imagine. Things seemed to tighten back up when you didn't use them. Joseph smirked, knowing this was affecting you. He give you a moment to adjust to him before beginning to thrust deep inside of you, holding on to your thighs, sinking his fingertips in them. The bed quietly squeaked with each thrust, a sign he was giving it to you deep and hard.

You weren't complaining. It felt good as evidenced by your moans and need to grip the bedsheets.

"I love you.", he groaned as he rubbed his right hand up and down your thigh, sending chills up your spine.

You moaned easily in response. "I love you too."

"You're gonna be such a good mom to Amelia and—and this baby.", he stuttered.

The sounds of you both having sex filled the room and you continued to hope Amelia would stay asleep. The worst feeling was being interrupted in the middle of sex with Joe. It had happened right before you found out you were pregnant last time. You both were so close to finishing at the same time until you both heard Amelia's cry come through the monitor before she began sobbing which instantly stopped you both in your tracks and killed the mood. Joe had slid out of you before sighing, throwing a pair of pajama pants on.

You both loved Amelia more than life itself but it was hard to make time to be romantic at times. This was one of those nights. You slid your panties back on with a sigh, trying to forget the feelings Joseph had made you feel as you slid your nightgown on. You went to Amelia's room and picked her up out of her crib, her clinging to you. You felt her wet tears against your skin as she clung to you and the teddy bear Joe had gotten her. You carried her in your all's room.

Joe's hard-on had disappeared quickly as he sat on the edge of the bed. You kissed Amelia's head.

"Did you have a nightmare baby?", you brushed through her curly hair as you let her climb in bed between you and Joe.

She nodded, pouting before reaching for Joseph. He took her in his arms and kissed her head. You flipped the lamp back off as you all settled down in bed, Amelia between you both. She was sniffling as Joseph held her in his arms. You put an arm around them both. You loved them both more than anything in this entire world.

"You really think I will be?", you asked shakily, looking up at him as he continued to thrust himself into you.

"I—I know you will be, baby. You're so strong—and loving—and I just love watching you with Amelia.", he grunted, thrusting deep into you, hitting the spot that made you forget your name.

"Joe.", you moaned out.

"What, baby? I have so many pictures of you both on my phone—I just look at them when I miss you both. I just can't help thinking how bad I want to give you another baby.", he sighed, closing his eyes.

You eyed him as he continued to thrust into you with soft groans, he was waiting for your reaction. You ran your hands over his back, gently sinking your fingertips into his soft skin. Just touching him and feeling him this close to your made you fall that much more in love with him.

"Yeah?", you smiled.

"Oh yeah—it was so hard to wait this long to really try for another baby—and know that we are really working towards getting you pregnant.", he groaned.

His words sent chills all over your body, the twisting, aching feeling returning to your stomach. Joseph was going deep—so deep you could feel him in the pit of your stomach. You were moaning in spurts as he continued to thrust himself into you. He smiled, throwing his head back easily and closing his eyes. This lasted for just a few moments before his eyes opened, desire laced in his brown eyes.

"Baby.", he moaned out.

"Yes babe?", you moaned back.

He chuckled lightly. "Are—you—ready?"

"For?", you teased lightly.

He bit his lip, chain lightly dangling before he took a free hand, brushing it through his curls while he admired your body. Yes, your body may not be the same as before you got pregnant but he didn't want it to be. When you got married, you may have been a little smaller, breasts a little perkier, and no stretch marks. You were beautiful then. Now, your body showed signs you are a mother. You had retained a little bit of your baby weight, your breasts were a little less perky, and you had stretch marks. But Joe loved you the way you were.

After Amelia turned three months old, you decided to try and go to the gym or go on morning walks or runs to try and get off the excess baby weight. Joseph convinced you that you didn't need to do that. He still managed to make you feel beautiful even when you were frazzled after being woken up at three in the morning, attempting to get Amelia to latch and eat. She was so fussy when she was hungry or needed a diaper change. Joseph never left you up alone with Amelia. He would run his hands through her hair as you fed her, sinking back into the pillow you had propped up against the headboard.

"For me to put a baby in you—God, I'm so close baby.", he groaned as he continued thrusting, deep and soft.

"Yes.", you whispered, smiling up at him.

He knew that look in your eyes. They were glossy, pupils were blown from the feelings he was making you feel. You were closing in on your orgasm. Your climax was building and soon, you'd release. He couldn't wait. Feeling you tighten up around him, your juices spilling around him. Your fingertips sank deeper in his skin, toes curling around his waist as his thrust became a little slower, more sensual.

"Babe—", you moaned.

"Yes, love?"

"I'm gonna cum—I swear I'm gonna—", you choked, swallowing as if that would keep your orgasm at bay.

"Do it, baby. I need to cum in you and fill you so full.", he groaned.

Those words spilling from his tongue caused you to hit your orgasm head-on. Your back arched, fingernails sinking into his skin as you felt your walls tighten around him, muscles contracting and pulling him in deeper. His eyes widened as your body reached its high, your eyes becoming heavy and blurred. He loved watching you have an orgasm—all because he did all the right things.

"Such a great wife—God. Baby, are you ready for me to fill you full? To give you a baby?"

You nodded groggily.

"So—good.", he thrusted deeper twice before you knew it was over for him.

"Oh fuck, here it comes baby—I'm gonna feel you full——give you a baby—I promise.", his chest heaved with his final words as he closed his eyes, you feeling his warm, hot liquid shoot inside of you with the pumping of his member. You lay there, allowing his member to stop pulsing. It was several pumps before he felt satisfied enough to pull out.

"Wait, before you move baby.", he breathed as he grabbed a couple extra pillows you all had in your bed.

"Why babe? You got it deep in me, I promise.", you chuckled, placing a hand on your lower stomach.

"Because they recommend you prop your hips up on a pillow to help my babies reach your womb.", he smirked as you allowed him to slide them under your hips. "Gets them closer to your cervix.", he smiled.

You giggled. It was cute how serious he was taking this and how determined he was to get you pregnant. It was actually sexy that he was putting this much effort into this. He sighed deeply, a sign he was beyond satisfied. You turned your head to face him, smiling from ear to ear. You were love drunk and it was the best you had felt in a long time.

"I love you.", you smiled.

"I love you too, baby.", Joe smiled as he kissed you, cuddling up to you so you could keep your hips elevated.

Several weeks passed. You and Joe continued to be very intimate and try for a baby. You all did it as often as you could. Whether it was when Amelia was down for a nap or right before you both went to bed. Amelia slept with you all a few nights but other than that, you both had been working very hard on getting pregnant. Joseph was getting ready to go out of town for some interviews and red carpet events. He asked if you wanted to go, however, you opted to stay home with Amelia and prepare for Christmas.

Joseph's family came over to your house since you and Joseph had been together. You remembered the first Christmas you spent with Joseph and his family. You were so nervous, but they instantly had made you feel at home. Joseph was helping Amelia with her dinner as you sat down with just a salad. You had made lasagna and a salad for dinner, however, your stomach was turning.

Joseph eyed you as Amelia ate her chicken nuggets. "Babe, are you going to eat?"

"Feeling a little nauseated.", you eyed him.

He nodded as he eat his lasagna. Your nausea didn't lift until you ended up in the bathroom, throwing up. Joseph came in and made sure you were alright, careful not to leave Amelia to her own devices. She was in her curious stage and would make a mess if you let her. You stood up easily from the tiled floor of your bathroom, eyeing yourself in the mirror. You looked a little exhausted. You wiped your mouth but did not return to the kitchen table.

Joseph didn't pressure you to test or tease you about a possible pregnancy. A few more days passed and it was the night before Joseph was leaving. You all were in the middle of foreplay when another sign popped up.

"Ouch—", you hissed, recoiling from him.

His hand had been roaming your body, running his hand over your breast before taking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. That's when you felt the dull, achy pain shoot through your entire breast.

"What, baby? What did I do?", he asked, his eyes immediately changing from lust to concern.

"Just my boob hurts—really bad.", you hissed, carefully massaging your own breast with your own hand gently and tenderly but you could still feel the dull, achy pain.

Joseph kissed your cheek. "What do you think's causing that?"

"Probably just hormones—maybe I'm getting ready to ovulate or have my period."

You had tried to keep up with your ovulation and period on a period-tracking app, but it was a little difficult to follow.

"We can just cuddle tonight, but will you let me try to put a baby in you when I get back home?", he brushed through your hair as he kissed your cheek tenderly, a hint of seduction in his voice.

You nodded, smirking. "Of course."

Joseph left the next day, nearly crying when saying goodbye to you and Amelia. It was hard for him to go, but you understood. You were proud of him. Amelia hated to see her daddy leave and often went and sulked for a few hours. Joseph always checked in and made sure she returned to her old self. You were on your computer, googling the symptoms you had while Amelia took her nap. You hoped she wouldn't be so fussy and agitated when she got up.

Looking back, it was dumb and naive of you to google your symptoms. You hit 'enter' on your laptop as you awaited the search results to come back. All signs pointed to yes—there was a possibility you were pregnant. Your eyes widened as you clicked a link and followed it, all the symptoms listed matching up with yours. Part of you panicked because Joseph was out of town, but you needed to know. Were you pregnant again?

A nervous feeling rose from the pit of your stomach as you shuffled around your kitchen, trying to focus on something else. Particularly the store list of what you needed for Christmas. You eyed it before slipping it into your purse. A perfect excuse to go to the store and pick up a couple of pregnancy tests. The wait for Amelia to wake up seemed to take forever.

Finally, your alarm went off and you went to wake up Amelia. She adjusted after a few minutes, a little grumpy at first. After giving Amelia a snack, you helped her get dressed. You opted for a hoodie, leggings, and a messy bun for your trip to the store. You bent down, helping Amelia get her winter coat on. She instantly made a pouty face, disgusted and a true copy of her daddy.

"Amelia, stop looking like your daddy.", you laughed at her.

"No.", she frowned further pouting and crossing her arms.

You could only imagine how she would be in a few years as she began to grow up.

"Amelia, please do this for mommy. It's cold outside.", you eyed her.

She reluctantly uncrossed her arms slowly before letting you escort her out the door and to your SUV. You buckled her in before getting into the driver's seat, shuttering from the cold. Snow lightly began falling as you and Amelia entered the store, you placing her in the shopping cart. Distracting yourself, you headed for the groceries. You picked out everything on the list. Amelia was behaving fairly well.

However, in times like these, you still missed Joe. You picked out some Christmas decorations before saving the best for last. You went to the health and beauty section, hitting the family planning aisle. There they were, the little test that would determine whether or not you were pregnant again with your rainbow baby. You bit your lip, eying them nervously. You gained a few glances from older women. What was the big deal? You were a mother and could be pregnant again. It wasn't like you were a baby yourself.

You were a grown woman and married to the love of your life. He was such a good provider for your family and took care of you both. Both of his girls. You finally selected a First Response pregnancy test— a box that contained two. You tossed it in the shopping cart before getting ready to check out. The snow was picking up as you and Amelia pulled into the driveway. Snow had lightly covered the ground, beginning to lie on.

You grabbed as much as you could before getting Amelia in the house and putting the groceries in the kitchen. It took you two trips to get all your items. You quickly put the groceries away as Amelia watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on television. This was a perfect opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom and test quickly. You gave her milk in her sippy cup and her favorite blanket to satisfy her.

In the downstairs bathroom by yourself, you opened the box and quickly reviewed the directions. It could take two minutes. You opened the test, preparing to pee on this little white and pink stick. You took a deep breath, your nerves coming to a head as you performed the test. You easily laid it on the counter. Now, you had to wait. You ran out of the bathroom, checking on Amelia. She was still glued to the television. You told her you'd be right back to join her.

You closed your eyes as you entered the bathroom, the moment of truth. Your hand began to shake nervously as you reached for the pregnancy test. Keeping it angled enough to not see the result, you brought it closer to your face. You closed your eyes and took another deep breath before eyeing it. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth as you noticed two pink lines. You were pregnant.

Tears filled your eyes as you gasped in disbelief again, a smile coming across your face. Joe had done it. He had given you a baby.

#joseph quinn x y/n #joseph x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #dad joe #eddie stranger things #eddie imagines #eddie x reader #eddie munson

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kittyofalltrades · 2 years

Text

Benny's Favorite Librarian

Benny gets rejected by his favorite librarian, but Frankie has an idea to turn his night around. So off to the strip club they go to find an even bigger surprise.

Words: 1977

Rating: Explicit MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ ONLY

Beta: @welcometostayingawake (ILY!!!!!!!)

Warnings: Strip club, grinding, hickies, no full smut but you get the idea

Saturday night found Benjamin Miller pouting in front of a vase of flowers. Frankie and Santi had done their best to pull an answer out of him for his sour mood, but they only received grumbles in response. The usual boisterous Benny was unwilling to confess what was wrong, he didn’t want his friends attempting to make him feel better.

After another hour of quiet sulking and heavy sighs, Santi tracked down Will to demand answers. He was followed closely by Frankie as curiosity got the better of the other man.

“Okay, spill. Why the hell is Benny acting like you kicked his dog?”

“His favorite librarian turned him down for a date,” Will sighed. He had warned Benny that he might get his heart broken with a girl like that, but he hadn’t listened. Now, he was slung across their kitchen table moping, like a heartbroken teenager.

“Benny can read?” Frankie asked in surprise.

“Benny asked out a librarian?” Santi asked incredulously.

Both questions came out louder than planned, making Benny lift his head off the table. “She wasn’t just any librarian. She was smart, beautiful, her laugh made my heart swell, and I somehow messed it up. Something about me being sweet but it wouldn’t work out,” Benny said with a bitter laugh.

All three men listened to Benny’s outburst before he dropped his head back to the table. Nobody called Benny sweet, stupid maybe, but never sweet unless they were trying to get in his pants. These days it was surprisingly few because women their age were looking for stability and tended to drift toward the elder Miller. Will strolled over and patted Benny on the back in a comforting manner.

Will glanced at his watch and then at Frankie and Santi. “I’ve got a date tonight. Can y’all look after him? I’m afraid he’s gonna drink himself into a stupor.”

Santi and Frankie nodded the affirmative and watched Will hurry out of the apartment. Santi busied himself making food, while Frankie paced the kitchen. Each heavy sigh from Benny pushed their nerves further on edge. After Santi finished cooking and slid food across the table to Benny, Frankie slid into the chair across from him and pulled the plate to himself.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve got an idea. We’re going to the strip club,” Frankie said between mouthfuls. “I know a few good girls that give great dances.”

Benny lifted his head off the table to give Frankie a dirty look. He didn’t want a lap dance from a random girl, he wanted to be on a date with his girl. Or at least the girl that should have been his. He wanted you.

“Frankie’s right, you can’t just wallow in misery for the rest of the night,” Santi said while he slid another plate of food in front of Benny.

Benny glared between both men before digging into his meal. “Fine, I'll go. But don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”

Two hours later found Benny, Santi and Frankie at the local strip club, Big Leo’s. Frankie was greeted by name and dragged off to a hidden corner leaving Santi and Benny by the door. Santi nodded at the stage and they made their way forward ready to watch the next performance. They arrived just in time to take the last two seats just as the announcer started to talk.

“She’s prettier than a magnolia in May, presenting Raisin to the stage,�� the announcer called. The lights dimmed and a sultry song queued up. Just as the words started, money started to fly onto the stage and Raisin the stripper crawled across the stage with a slow sultry movement that drew his eyes. Santi pulled out some cash and waved it in an attempt to get the woman’s attention before Benny could stop him.

You made your way across the stage on your hands and knees stopping to give certain patrons a little attention when they waved more than a few dollar bills. An attractive man waving a hundred dollar bill quickly drew your attention and you climbed off the stage and wrapped an arm around his neck, giving him a prime peek at your cleavage. Movement on your left caught your eye, causing you to pause as you made eye contact with the man. Sitting next to the pretty man ogling your tits was Benny. The same Benny you’d rejected just this afternoon in fear of this exact situation.

Your song continued, pulling you away. You gave both men a sweet smile before climbing back onto the stage to finish your set. You had two more songs to go before you could hide from the fact that the guy you liked and rejected was sitting at your stage, watching you undress.

“Pope, stop waving money at her,” Benny hissed when another hundred dollar bill came out. He tried to pull the man’s arm down but you’d already noticed the money and made your way over to collect and give Santi a secret wink.

“Why? We’re here to have fun.”

“That’s her, that's my librarian,” Benny whispered back, half in anguish and half still in shock.

Frankie returned with lip prints across his collar just in time to hear the words. “Well, I see why you fell for her. She has a very nice– smile,” Frankie said in an aborted sentence as Benny whipped his head to glare at him. He knew better than to finish the original words. Frankie let his regular girl drag him away to a booth before he could stick his foot further in his mouth, leaving Benny and Santi watching the rest of the set.

When the set finished, you were tapped on the shoulder. You turned to find the stage manager beaming at you, “You got a big one tonight, a thirty minute VIP. Get cleaned up and changed, they'll be waiting in room three,” he said while he passed you a stack of cash. You counted out the money, happy to see four hundred and fifty dollars in your hand. The fifty dollar club fee had been taken from the cash. Not bad for a night’s work on top of your tips from the stage.

“I bought you a dance,” Santi said with a satisfied smirk. “Room three.”

“No, I don't want a dance, I wanna talk to her. I wanna find out the real reason why she turned me down,” Benny said while he looked around for you. He’d seen you step off the stage but he didn’t see where you’d gone.

“Looking for Raisin?”

“Yeah, that’s not what she goes by at the library by the way.”

“Room three.”

Benny turned confused eyes onto Santi. “What did you do?”

“I bought you a dance with Raisin. Cost me five hundred dollars. You’re welcome,” Santi intoned distractedly while he watched one of the dancers walk by. He patted Benny on the shoulder and followed the woman that was sashaying away from him, eyes glued to the sway in her hips.

You were perched on the lounger when the door to room three opened. Your sultry smile was ready for the client until you took in who walked in the door. Your smile faltered when Benny stepped completely into the room and looked you over. You wore a tiny, barely there skirt, and a crop top that barely covered you. He didn’t look at you as he walked in and sat as far from you as possible.

“Come on, baby, how am I gonna dance for you if you’re all the way over there?” You asked with a fake pout. You had appearances to maintain.

“I didn’t buy the dance, my friend did. I just wanted to talk to you.”

You cocked your head and waited for him to elaborate on what he wanted to talk about.

“Why did you reject me earlier today? I thought we were getting along well. I thought there was no way I misread the signs that badly, especially after you recommended your favorite romance series while touching my arm,” Benny said softly.

You chewed your lip while you listened to him, deciding to explain with a heavy sigh. “You didn’t misread the signs. You’re sweet and I like you a lot, but I don’t date.”

“Why not?”

“Benny, a room full of men just saw my tits, including your friend, not to mention Frankie multiple times. Most men aren’t okay with that, so I don’t date, it’s just easier,” you answered softly.

“Well, I’m not like most men. I like you and I want you. I don’t give a shit that you’re a stripper,” Benny stated firmly.

His words made your heart melt, most men would say it didn’t matter and then try to have you quit, or try to have you switch to working the bar. Benny genuinely didn’t seem to care if you stripped or not.

“What about my job at the library?”

“You’re always gonna be my favorite librarian, babydoll,” he laughed.

You laughed with him for a minute until a natural break happened. You wondered if you should give him the dance, you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate it. You crawled over his lap and straddled him, making his hands fly to your waist.

“What are you doing, babydoll?” He asked while his hands held you in place, unwilling to let you go.

“You’ve got fifteen more minutes until I go back, so I figured we could have some fun,” you told him with a devilish smile.

“What kind of fun were you thinking?” Benny asked with a matching smile.

“Nothing bad, just a kiss.”

“A kiss sounds nice, babydoll,” Benny agreed. He guided your hips in a slow roll across his hips drawing a small moan from you and widening his smile. You nodded in agreement while you rolled your hips again before leaning forward to capture his lips in a searing kiss. A kiss that broke the rules, but you didn’t care as you leaned into him, working your lips against his. You tangled your hand in his hair, giving a gentle tug that made him moan against your lips and his hips jerk up involuntarily to meet yours. You gave a second small tug before kissing your way down to his neck. You pulled the collar of his shirt down and sucked a mark into his skin at the junction of his shoulder and neck, while his hips worked against yours slowly. Benny moaned and his large hand gripped your hips tighter while you sucked and bit at his skin, leaving behind the impression of your lips. Quickly pulling your mouth back on his, the dance continued to leave you two breathless.

Twenty minutes later, Benny stumbled out of the room with his hair a mess, looking slightly dazed. His lips were swollen and he looked fucked out and on cloud nine. Santi and Frankie stood outside the door, both watching as you flounced out after blowing Benny a kiss.

“So Pope bought you a dance with Raisin, huh?”

“If it stops him from sighing like earlier, I’ll do it again.”

“I think I’m in love,” Benny said, turning to watch you talk to the stage manager. You gave him another smile before disappearing into what he assumed was a dressing room. “We’re supposed to meet after her shift tonight. She promised toys.”

“Toys, huh?” Santi asked in surprise.

“Yeah, she said it’s been a while since she’s had something that didn’t run on batteries so she wants to put me through my paces,” Benny answered with a smile.

Santi and Frankie made noises of disgust while Benny just grinned. Maybe coming here was a good idea after all. He was going to be going home with his favorite librarian, and he hoped she ran him ragged like she’d promised.

All interactions welcome and appreciated. Hit me with you opinions i want to know what you think and thanks for reading.

#benny miller #triple frontier #benny miller smut

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morganofthewildfire · 2 years

Text

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Bigger Than The Whole Sky

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CW: mentions of miscarriage

~1.3k words

inspired by the song Bigger Than The Whole Sky by Taylor Swift

an: no idea if this is good or not, but it was very therapeutic for me to write, not trying to say that this is what the song is to taylor, but from the first time i heard it this is what i connected it to

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The house was too quiet.

That’s the first thing Rowan noticed as he parked the car, helping Aelin out and in through the front door. She’d accepted the hand on her back with listlessness, not a single word leaving her mouth as she headed down the hallway, disappearing into their room.

There was another door she passed to get there, but it remained closed. Rowan should thank the gods for that simple favor, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not after everything they’d taken away.

With a heavy sigh, piercing the thick, almost dusty, air of their dream home, he headed into the kitchen, doing the only thing he could think of: making her food. He wasn’t sure his fireheart would want to eat, or be up for eating, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He didn’t know how to fight the gaping hole ripping through both of them.

Rowan grabbed a pot mindlessly, getting some soup to heat up. It was monotonous, something he’d done a thousand times whenever it was cold out, or whenever Aelin was having a rough night. Her parents had always made soup for her when she was sick as a kid, and now that they’d passed it was a tradition he’d continued for her. It was her comfort food. Something she’d need now that -

His train of thought stopped with an aching blow to the heart, and he scrubbed at his face with both hands, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. He’d kept them in all day, ever since Aelin had woken up in the middle of the night before to piercing, bloody pain.

He had to be strong for her. He had to.

Even if he felt sick with the sadness seeping in him, the sadness that spread to wherever he went, whatever he touched. His whole body was aching, like a chunk of him had been ripped out completely, and he braced himself against the kitchen counter, squeezing his eyes shut like he could stop the physical manifestations of grief.

If he could forget the future that they’d dreamed of, and finally had gotten, only to be whisked away like it was never even there.

Rowan stood there for who knows how long, only emerging from his hazy state of being when he realized the soup was bubbling over. His arms suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, but he managed to get a bowl, scooping some of the soup into it.

Some of it splattered onto his skin, but he couldn’t feel it, even as it bubbled and turned his tan skin an ugly red. All he did was idly wipe it off, before turning off the stove and turning to head down the hallway toward their bedroom.

His feet stalled by that damned closed door, and Rowan stared at it for an unknowable amount of time, a wave of what should’ve been spilling through his mind.

Bringing their daughter home for the first time, setting her down into the crib Aelin would’ve painstakingly painted. She wasn’t super crafty, but she would be so determined to make something unique for their child.

All of the three AMs, pushing open this very door and letting Aelin sleep, lifting their daughter into his arms, comforting her until she fell back asleep. Aelin would already be doing so much, he’d been fully prepared to lose his sleep in favor of hers. It was the least he could do.

Even later, years down the line, when their daughter would be older and it wouldn’t be cool to hang out with her parents anymore. She’d still be in this very room, through this very door.

Now he’d never even get to meet her.

The first ultrasound had only been last week. They’d only known Aelin was pregnant for two, though she was already fourteen weeks along. Two weeks of happiness, before everything had been washed away.

Rowan turned away from the door, trusting his feet to mechanically take him towards his own bedroom, where he knew his wife would be. The door creaked softly when he nudged it open, striking another dagger into his heart. All of the doors creaked in this house; he’d been planning on fixing them all before the baby arrived, so they didn’t wake her up in the middle of the night.

There was no need to now.

In fact, the slight sound grounded him in a way as he walked toward the bed with the soup in his hand. Aelin was laying on her side, a blanket tossed loosely over her legs. She was turned away from him, but she wasn’t moving, so Rowan padded softly around to the other side, kneeling in front of her.

Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. One hand was tucked under her head, but the other was holding something he couldn’t see, hidden under her pillow.

“Hey Fireheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you up for eating a little bit? I made you some soup.”

Aelin didn’t move. Her face was just blank, her eyes closed, like she couldn’t even try to face the world, knowing the only thing she’d find was pain.

He couldn’t imagine how she felt. It was devastating for both of them, no one could discount that, but she’d been the one to carry their daughter, the one to feel it as she left the world too early. The one who certainly now felt like it was her fault.

Aelin had always had self deprecating tendencies, and no matter how many times he’d already assured her today that it had nothing to do with her, that there was nothing they could’ve done, he knew she didn’t believe him.

So all he did was set the bowl down on the nightstand, moving to climb onto the bed behind her. He hugged her loosely over her waist, holding her securely against him. The least he could do was offer her whatever comfort he could.

They laid their in silence, just breathing together, until -

“Why?” She whispered, her voice full of tired pain. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Rowan’s heart shattered.

He pressed kisses to her temple, like he could piece her back together with sheer will. “Absolutely nothing,” he promised her, “this is not your fault.”

“It hurts,” she said tightly, her body shaking. He held her tighter.

“I know,” he breathed, “I know.”

And in his arms, she let herself break.

Rowan held her as she cried, spilling out every shattered piece of her soul. And eventually he cried with her, a few stray tears slipping down his face. But he sniffed them away, not letting her see.

It took a while, but Aelin cried herself out, slipping into a restless sleep. He wanted her to eat, but he also wanted her to sleep, so he let her rest, slipping out from behind her to go get her a glass of water. But first, he went to go grab the soup bowl to take back to the kitchen, but not before leaning down again, pressing a feather light kiss to her forehead.

She murmured a little in her sleep, shifting on the bed, and her hand slipped out from under the pillow, allowing him to see what she was holding. A shuddering breath escaped him at the sight. It was their first ultrasound picture, the one they’d barely been able to let go of for the past week.

Aelin had made it her phone lockscreen, and so had he. She’d gone around and shown it to all of their friends, excited that it was finally happening. They’d been trying for a baby for so long.

Maybe eventually they’d be ready to try again, but for now, all they could do was try to get through the days. While learning how to live without something they’d never had.

----

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#rowaelin fic #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction

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astudyincontrasts · 2 years

Note

Ok so my brain fog is real today bc awful pain but a friend and I were swapping Viktor headcanons one day specifically of musician!Viktor (and what else he could do with those hands 🤤) and now bass playing Viktor lives rent free in my head so do with that what you will if you feel so inclined. 😉 like idk maybe reader has been secretly watching him play at her favorite bar forever and has been pining….or it’s like a Judah/Princess Carolyn situation and reader has no idea he’s a musician on the side. ^_^

Here you go, Lyds! I’m sorry it’s not terribly heavy on musical details, because while I love music I know precious damn little about making it.

Just some sweet fluff, I decided to give reader a name bc I’m terribly tired of doing y/n stuff but it’s still reader perspective and limited name usage.

Musician!Viktor x Fem!Reader SFW

It was getting to the point you couldn't afford this. Neither your stretched thin budget, nor your sleep-deprived schedule. Not even your liver, to be honest. But each week, three times a week, you somehow managed to find a way to pay the cover charge, afford the three drink minimum, and drag yourself from bed the next morning and back off to work.

It was worth it. Viktor played beautifully. But it wasn't just the music, it was him. That first night you caught one of his regular sets at the bar was purely accidental. It was your favorite spot and once or twice a month you'd stop in, treat yourself, or else swing by with friends. He'd sat down quietly on the tall lone stool in the small cleared space that acted as a makeshift stage near the far end of the bar and in the solitary bright light in the warm, dimly lit space, simply began to play.

It was like that each time. No conversation, no introduction or rambling or belabored explanations of who he was or what each song was about. He simply sat, began to play, and one by one the conversations would hush or lower, the whole place wrapped up for the two hour stretch of each of his sets. He only ever sang along to the last song, and played the same one each time to wrap the set. It wasn't a language you understood, and he sang quiet and low, but oh how it haunted. Raised goosebumps across your skin each time, left scalp tingling deliciously without fail. Mouth parted and breath tight, practically shivering, melting.

It had become like a drug.

The only thing that absorbed your week, the one thing you looked forward to and it was draining your accounts and pressing your time... but you needed it. Craved it. You'd even found the perfect spot, the perfect seat in the house to watch him play, relax and not be bothered by any other single barflies that might be looking for someone to make conversation with or flirt with. And most importantly, you were fairly sure he couldn't see you. Perfectly camouflaged in the sea of ever changing faces and other regulars.

Janna forbid he ever start looking up from that bass and caught you sitting there, rapt, with what you were very certain was an incredibly stupefied look of lovesick adoration on your face.

You knew this was stupid, one sided, and ridiculously parasocial. To entertain such an enormous and painful crush on a boy you knew nothing about - simply because he played so beautifully, looked so lovely sat perched there on that stool with the bass balanced on one lean thigh. He was all long, slim limbs, sharp cheekbones and cut of jaw. Heavy brows that would knit in concentration over the complicated parts of songs or lift in unapologetic joy at the lilting melodies.

The warmer nights he's roll up sleeves to his elbows. Rid himself of his tie. And you could sit there, nursing a cool drink as you watched the little trickle of a bead of sweat trace its unhurried path down his forehead, down between brows to roll along his nose and hang shivering off the end of it before dropping away.

To say nothing of the ones that ran down alongside his ear, trickling along the perfect hook of his jaw down along the lean column of his throat only to disappear into the dip of his collarbone just visible in the part of his shirt. Oh, to be able to chase such lucky things; to catch salt on your tongue and taste of skin. To have them drip down upon you with him braced upon elbows above, those narrow hips fitted neatly between spread thighs.

It embarrassed you, how much you wanted him.

You'd never had such a silly crush before. Never let yourself get so wrapped up in anyone that they were all you could think about, that you couldn't sleep at night without indulging in at least one little fantasy of them. He was ruining you, stealing your sleep from staying up late to catch each set and then even more, every night, moans soft across the pillow, thighs shivering out tension with no one between them, nothing but your own fingertips and the cycle of fevered fantasy of his mouth, his hands, his tongue.

His voice in your ear.

It was one of these sticky hot summer nights, and it had already got off to a terrible start. Held late at work, crosstown traffic terrible, a long line at the door of the bar. Your favorite spot had been taken, and you weren't sure how you were going to afford the three drink minimum tonight. You'd skipped your morning coffee and head had throbbed half the day to thank you for the caffeine withdrawal. It was time to accept you simply couldn't keep this up. It wasn't healthy, it would never go anywhere, and what had begun as a delightful indulgence had instead begun to hurt.

Glaring cold jealousy at the unassuming people who'd managed to nab your favorite spot you instead took a seat at the bar and ordered the most refreshing drink they had; laced with thin sliced cucumber and botanical infused vodka, positively crammed with ice and sparkling with the effervescence of charged water. You toyed with the little yellow nasturtium flower that came perched on the top of it and sipped slowly. Very slowly.

“That looks delicious.”

Already having suffered a frustrating day, sitting in simmering in anger over having your comfortable plans ruined, miserable over being ready to shake off this silly crush and preparing to face the inevitable discomfort of having to stop all this madness, ween yourself back to a normal life, all of it compounded by the aggravating heat, you felt your temper spike hot and sudden at the nerve of some random man moving in to flirt with you. Rolled eyes to yourself and clenched jaw before the hand holding the little yellow flower hit the bar and your turned sharply to tell the owner of that voice to piss off.

Only to be met by a soft, fox-sly tilt pair of golden amber eyes under familiar dark brows.

And your heart stopped. Stumbled, stutter-started and tried very hard to both climb up into your throat and simultaneously drop into the pit of your stomach, leaving you reeling. And he smiled, cupid bow shape of his mouth canting ever so slightly higher at the edge that a little beauty mark graced. That soft gaze of his strayed to your glass before it rose to catch the bartender, and he lifted a single elegant finger to order the same drink for himself.

Apparently undeterred by your awkward silent ogling about ten inches away from his face, he turned back to you with that warm look again. Your body forgot it had legs, limbs, internal organs or anything more than the panicked hammering of that treacherous heart and hard static buzz of your brain short circuiting. He nodded at the little flower you held.

“Did you know those are edible? My grandmother used to grow them in a little box outside her windowsill.”

Your attention strayed to the small flower whose stem you were currently crushing between thumb and forefinger. And then that vaporlock finally broke in your brain. Let you breathe a soft laugh that thankfully did not sound as unhinged as you felt.

“You’re putting me on.”

The bartender delivered his drink and Viktor plucked the little flower in his up, stared you dead in the face, dare accepted, and popped it whole into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as that smile grew and you watched him incredulously. Just waiting for him to give up the game, spit it out sputtering and laugh at having his bluff called. Instead he swallowed happily, the lovely rise of that adam’s apple in his throat moving enticingly against the open part of his collar - no tie tonight - and took a slow sip of his drink.

You eyed your little flower and lifted it slowly, paused to narrow gaze at him before you bit one petal off. It was edible. Peppery, like bitter lettuce with a finish like fresh scrubbed carrots. You felt your brows shoot up and heard him laugh warmly as he leaned an elbow on the bar beside you and took another long sip of his drink.

“See?”

“Yes! Its... they’re good!” You took another nibble and he held out his free hand.

“I’m Viktor.”

You struggled with the half eaten flower, petal still hanging partway out your mouth, and finally dropped the flower back into your drink, covered your mouth with one hand and offered him the other. Real smooth. Just killing it.

“Yef. Imf. Ahem. Haha... I uh, I know. I’m Tasha.”

“Tasha.” He took your hand, kindly ignoring all the awkwardness, or else actually mindboggingly charmed by it, “I’ve seen you here before I think?”

Oh damn. Oh fuck.

As delicious as the gentle fold of his hand was around yours, you tried to slide yours away and hide embarrassment at being caught out by turning back to your drink. Instead he caught the tips of your fingers and held tight. Not crushing, just enough tension to stop you, to draw your hand back toward him. Had you blinking surprise as your heart decided its new job was to turn as many summersaults as possible in your chest instead of pump blood, leaving you feeling a little lightheaded.

“Do you like my music?” It was almost shy, the way he asked it. As if he had no idea how good he was.

“Janna, yes.” You breathed earnestly, before you could stop yourself. Earned a delighted and open expression of surprise from him and a mortifyingly hot blush that swept from your throat to cheeks. So much redder and undoubtedly less attractive than the sweet pale pink dusting in the hollows of his cheeks.

He toyed a callused thumb at your fingertips he still held, gaze focused on them. Oh no, you’d embarrassed him as well as yourself. Good going.

“I’m...” You both began at once. And then just like that the lights cut off. A collective groan went up from the entirety of the packed bar. Left only with the dim illumination of the flickering small candles in their votives scattered on table tops. It happened regularly out here on the city limits, so close to the drop off toward Zaun. During the sweltering days of summer they kept the rolling blackouts random and confined to the edges, siphoning power into the wealthier, glittering city center to keep their lights on and fans running. Just letting everyone stuck out here know their place, and weren’t you terribly grateful to get what you were given? Imagine how bad it was a block or two over and a half mile down.

The bartender threw his rag angrily upon the bar and people began tossing back their drinks and rising to head out into the night to somewhere less packed and stifling and perhaps left with power or in possession of a generator. Viktor seemed only a little chagrined as he released your hand and settled unhurriedly on the barstool beside you to savor his cool drink in the dim light.

“Ah well. No set tonight.” He cast you a sly little glance that had your heart sinking. He had noticed you, and not just as a vaguely familiar face. He knew. “Sorry I won’t be able to play for you tonight.”

Something in the way he said it, though perhaps it was just you reading too much into the cadence of his soft clipped accent; misunderstanding emphasis placed on certain words. But it sounded... gods, it sounded like he really meant he was sorry he couldn’t play for you - just you. No. That was your silly one sided crush talking. Stamp that idea out right now. Intense foolishness. Get a grip, girl.

“I don’t suppose...” He’d turned away a little bit, toward the bar, thumb toying against the condensation beading and dripping off his drink in a way that made you jealous of the glass. “I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk?”

Do what now? Yes. Yes you would. Walk wherever. Ends of the earth? Straight into hell? Yes indeed, lets go. You managed not to choke on a swallow of your drink and nodded before voice found you.

“Yes.” Could you possibly manage anything more than monosyllabic answers, please? “Yes, I’d love to.”

There, was that so hard?

He brightened, and half turned back toward you. As if you were the one doing him a favor here and not the other way around.

The sweltering evening passed in a delicious little blur. The two of you slowly finding footing in conversation at the bar, unhurried as you finished your drinks before turning out onto the streets. The wandering was aimless and pleasantly slow as you chatted away, stopped at a street vendor to buy a few kebabs of that unidentifiable but sumptuously delicious meat that was so common here and in Zaun. Dripping with sweet spicy, sticky sauce that had you licking your fingers and him rubbing a smudge away from the corner of your mouth as you both sat on a stranger’s stoop to eat.

A little while later there was a second vendor, selling sweet iced milks, cardamom and cinnamon spiced, sweetened with honey and poured over shaved ice. Viktor insisted on treating, absolutely thrilled to find this vendor out and about tonight, explained how he usually missed them. Readily apparent the incredibly lean boy had a surprisingly raging sweet tooth.

The cane had also been a surprise. You’d noticed the slight limp and the brace that ran up his leg but had never seen him take more than a few steps onto and off the makeshift clearing of a stage at the bar. It had you concerned at first about wearing him out with the walk, but he set a comfortably easy pace and you didn’t mind the meandering at all. Though you did notice when he began to flag. It couldn’t have been easy, along with the weight of his bass slung across his back.

“I... uhm... my place isn’t far. If you want. The power’s probably not on, but there’s a fire escape that usually has a nice breeze. And the stuff in the icebox is probably still cool. If you want to rest a bit.” It all came out in a bit of a rush. Had him stalling on the sidewalk as he leaned weight upon that cane a bit heavily. Gaze inscrutable for a long moment that had you panicking that perhaps he thought you were making a clumsy move on him.

And then a little rocking step brought him closer. Close enough to get a little distracted by that second beauty mark under one golden eye and the scent of iced honey sweet on his breath.

“Alright. Only if you promise once we get there you’ll let me kiss you.” Those luminous eyes not on yours but trained lower, watching the shape of your mouth. And you realized suddenly he’d been doing that all evening; attention flicking between eye contact and sliding away time and time again to watch you speak, eat... and now to catch your lower lip between the crush of teeth like you needed to hide it from that gently hungry gaze.

“W-what?” You heard it practically squeak out of you.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to all night.” He admitted with remarkable honesty, catching you even more fully off guard. “Please don’t invite me back to your place if... if that’s not what you want.”

Like he was running out of patience with himself and unable to face it if all you were doing was humoring him, somehow just being kind and coolly friendly.

“You can... you can kiss me right now.” Janna, it just came blurting out of you in a hot rush. Stammered and eager and slightly choked.

Ah, how he smiled. Slow and sweet before he rocked forward and caught your mouth. Fingertips trailing little licking electric lines of tingling fire back in a sweep above your jaw before he hooked hand in a cradle and pulled you closer.

Soft little suckle of your lower lip started it all, pulled at it temptingly and you felt the tip of his tongue brush a little taste, just a little one, before teeth caught a tiny tug and then both your mouths were open and you were done for. Hands reaching up to stroke along his throat, slide fingertips up into that soft mess of hair behind his ears. He was terribly gentle for the way you could feel him practically trembling with want as you slid tongue a slow roll slick against his own, drew it into your mouth in invitation, small teases of licks leaving you breathless until you both had to break at last.

Not that either of you wanted to - but the hooting cat calls of several passersby finally managed to penetrate the silent, muffled solitary universe the pair of you had descended into. Viktor glanced after their retreating backs before turning back to you with a shy smile, letting his forehead come to rest against yours as he thumbed away the glistening wet he’d left along your lower lip.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that for weeks.” He admitted and it turned your world on its head. Had you break down in a breathless little ragged laugh.

“Me too.”

#viktor drabble #viktor arcane #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor x reader #viktor fic #arcane fic #sfw viktor #sweet fluff #musician au #musician viktor #drabble requests

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