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unhonestlymirror · 9 months

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I am horrified by how often I see people writing, "Well, we shouldn't take Holocaust into account when talking about Israel-Palestine war." Of course we SHOULD, and that's why:

"October 7 is getting rewritten and certain social media users are an active of the campaign to erase the atrocities.

I was barely awake on October 7th when news of the atrocities that were committed by Hamas began to trinkle in, horror by horror. With sleep still in my eyes, I had hoped it was a nightmare I could erase by burying my face in pillows and returning to slumber, but alas, reality was insistent. Hamas had butchered over 1,200 people, amongst them infants, pregnant women, the handicapped, and the elderly. Even dogs were not spared.

But Hamas didn’t just murder them in cold blood, they had tortured, raped, desecrated their bodies, and took hostages. Their depravity was limitless. And they were so proud of their crimes that they used GoPro cameras to record them, later releasing the sickening spectacles to the public as a form of psychological terror. Add to that the live streams, cell phone recordings, and CCTV camera footage, and you’ll probably have the most documented massacre in history—with a reported 60,000 video clips collected.

I’ve seen some of these videos, including those not circulating quite so widely in public. They will haunt me for the rest of my life—and that falls far short than the 47 minute “film” shown to select journalists and diplomats worldwide, a number of whom broke down and/or fell ill during the screening.

But as shocking as all of this deranged butchery was — which was entirely the intention — what stunned me in the aftermath is the world’s reaction.

Putting aside disputes of land and politics, it was jarring to hear such a blatant reframing of narrative. It started with calling Hamas the “resistance” and justifying the unjustifiable. A number of BLM chapters had put out “heroic” images of Hamas terrorists descending on parachutes. I half-expected them to release action figures of Hamas fighters too. Maybe they did?

And then came the "BUTs." Sure, some folks condemned Hamas, but it was always followed by a "BUT," justifying the unjustifiable. I've been asked, ad nauseam, "What would you do in their situation?" Well, my response remains steadfast: not commit random acts of murder, torture, and kidnapping. Call me old-fashioned. (For the record I’ve called many colorful words for my stance, but oddly that was never one of them).

It was a wake-up call for many, especially those of us in the global Jewish community. Overnight, the illusion of safety shattered, much like the dreams of anyone who's binge-watched a horror series alone at night. But now we were all collectively trapped in that nightmare, and couldn’t wake up no matter how hard with pitched.

The history of the Holocaust is taught in many schools around the world. “Never forget” and “never again” are sentiments that are echoed within that curriculum. Yet, while some might scoff at the persistent advocacy for Holocaust education, insisting that it’s hitting them over the head, a nationwide survey in 2020 reveals that the under-40 crowd seems to have missed the memo. Shockingly, one in ten respondents haven’t even heard of the word “Holocaust,” let alone being aware that as many as 6 million Jews perished in it.

Further, nearly a quarter of those questioned said they believed the Holocaust was a myth, had been exaggerated or that they weren’t sure. Meanwhile in Canada, one in five young people (under 34) either hasn't heard of the Holocaust or isn't sure what it is. And in Britain, one in twenty adults flat-out deny that it ever took place. Ah, the privilege of blissful ignorance.

Most who underestimate the number of Jews killed in Holocaust have neutral or warm feelings toward Jews.

But it's not just ignorance; there's an entire industry that has been propped up and dedicated to Holocaust denial, complete with books, “movies,” and groups. To make matters worse, alarmingly, fewer Holocaust survivors are around to share their firsthand accounts and counteract the flames of denialism.

Nearly half of the 1000 people surveyed had stated that they’ve seen Holocaust denial or distortion posts on social media or elsewhere online.

I’ve always thought that denials of genocide—such as the Holocaust —were something that happened over time, with history slipping away and being re-written.

However, I never expected to be observing this in real time.

While initially the so-called “resistance” was celebrated by a subset of society, this soon turned into full-fledged denials of Hamas’ actions on Oct 7. Despite overwhelming evidence in the form of videos captured and shared by Hamas themselves and shared on Telegram channels and elsewhere, I would read and hear people claiming that they had only targeted Israeli military. Absurd claims emerged using supposedly ‘leaked’ footage where an Israeli helicopter shoots at Nova music festival goers. That video was viewed over 30 million times on X alone. The video, which was actually originally shared by the IDF on Oct 9, was showing their attacks on specific Gazan targets—certainly NOT indiscriminate bombings of music festival attendees in Israel. (Here’s a great thread that details how this piece of disinformation spread and geolocation information that further confirms that the claim is fake).

I’ve heard countless denials of the rapes of women (and men), despite overwhelming evidence in the form of physical evidence, forensics, and a number of witness testimonies. Women’s rights groups, meanwhile, remained silent—thus offering a vacuum for denialists to fill. Proponents of “me too” also stayed silent. Worse, the University of Alberta Sexual Assault Centre’s director signed an open letter calling Hamas perpetrating “sexual violence” an “unverified accusation.” It took UN Women nearly two months to issue a lukewarm condemnation of the brutal attacks. “We are alarmed by the numerous accounts of gender-based atrocities and sexual violence during those attacks,” they wrote, following a letter writing campaign urging them to speak up. Better late than never though, right?

The roughly 40 dead babies claim was debunked as a lie. At least that’s what people on social media now declare as fact, citing a Haaretz investigation.

“Haaretz investigation EXPOSES all the ISRAELI LIES from October 7th just like I predicated (sic),” reads the post of one particularly large disinformation account.

These claims persisted despite Haaretz directly addressing that post and calling it “blatant lies” and insisting that it “absolutely no basis in Haaretz’s reporting.”

The denials continued regardless of the fact that a group of 200 forensic pathologists from all over the world had confirmed that babies were indeed murdered and that some babies were found decapitated, though it was unclear whether this was done before or after death. First responders also corroborated that they witnessed beheaded infants. Regardless of decapitation, these were babies, murdered.

The forensic pathologists also confirmed that humans were executed, bound and burned alive. Israeli police have over 1,000 statements related to the attack.

When some of the hostages were released, Hamas supporters claimed that the hostages enjoyed being held by them, that they hardly wanted to leave. That this was like a pleasant vacation for them, that’s all. Like sipping piña coladas by the beach. In fact, they would state that they were more concerned about their safety in Israeli hands. They even concocted stories of love affairs between a hostage who was shot in the leg and a Hamas captor. A sick and twisted take on reality where up is down, cats are dogs, and denial is truth. They dismissed the reality that many of these hostages watched their loved ones get murdered in front of them, and still had relatives being held in captivity. The hostages were also administered Clonazepam by Hamas, a mood-enhancing tranquilizing drug, before handing them over to the Red Cross, so that they would appear “happy.”

Meanwhile, the Yale Daily News published a correction of an opinion column stating that the “allegations had not been substantiated.”

The denials go on and on, and I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a version of Holocaust denial, except this time it’s happening in real time—not years after the fact. And this time, it has a Wi-Fi connection and a social media account.

The conditions for this were ripe. Moral relativism is why just several weeks ago, Gen Z embraced Bin Laden's 'Letter to America.' It has been building up for years across college campuses, a breeding ground for ideologies that support violent means to achieve political gains.

The perceived power dynamics play a role here too. In the eyes of many, the Israelis are seen as a superpower whereas the Palestinians, and by extension Hamas, are seen as underdogs. In their view, the underdog is always right because it is the victim, and the “power” is the oppressor. So how can the oppressor be a victim?

Israelis, despite the majority of the population being Mizrahi Jews, as well as 20% Arabs (who were also victims on Oct 7), have been framed as “white colonizers,” vs the Palestinians who are seen as “POC” in the context of this conflict. Never mind that Jews, including Ashkenazi Jews, can be traced back to the land through DNA, archaeological evidence, and historical documents.

An overall distrust for media is another factor, which has resulted in individuals taking the word of random influencer accounts as gospel over traditional media outlets. According to Gallup polls, Americans’ trust in media is near a record low. Only 34% of US adults have a “great deal” or “fair amount” of confidence as of 2022. This is a major hindrance to our sensemaking abilities.

And then, of course, there’s cognitive dissonance. When a group identifies so closely with the perpetrator and they commit heinous acts, confronting that fact happens to be uncomfortable. So, in an attempt to reduce that discomfort, they rationalize or deny the evidence. This means that they accept only evidence that supports their existing beliefs, while placing unreasonable demands on the other side.

But none of these factors would have gained as much traction if it weren’t for something that didn’t exist during the Holocaust: social media. This is the engine that helps drives this real-time historical revisionism and denialism. According to 2021 data from Pew Research, over 70% of Americans get their news via social platforms. A Reuters Institute report from 2023 found that 30% of respondents use social media as the main way to get their news.

We have a society that consumes sound-bites of information, both truth and lies (as well as lies based on grains of truth).

Social media algorithms—combined with human nature—tend to amplify outrageous untruths, which spread widely. Corrections, never make it as far as the original lie. They are just a faint hum.

Throughout the Israeli-Gaza war, we’ve seen AI generated images and bots used to paint a specific narrative—for evocative, emotional effect. But technologically sophisticatication isn’t a prerequisite for painting false narratives. Many “influencers” have taken to using existing images or videos and attaching misleading headlines to them—including sharing content that captures events in Syria while presenting it as taking place in Gaza. These networks of influencers have large reach, and can turn even the most blatant lie into a revisionist truth.

Researchers for Freedom House, a non-profit human right advocacy group, found that generally at least 47 governments have used commentators to manipulate online discussions in their favor, either via humans or bots. They’ve also recruited influencers to help spread false and misleading content, and have created fake websites that mimic actual media publications. Then there’s always Russia’s propaganda arm RT, and various other publications like Al Jazeera and Quds who have direct ties to Hamas and/or other Islamic regimes.

All of this has contributed to narrative confusion, and the erasure of unspeakable acts of brutality, and the denial of the facts of October 7, right before our very eyes.

If we cannot even share a common reality, how can have any hope of resolving anything?

“Never again” is happening now."

#jews #israel palestine war #hamas attack #russia finances hamas

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daizymax · 8 months

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the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

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bonefall · 8 months

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Favorite rewritten scene from TPB? Any scenes you think would fuck if they were animated? Dont worry why im asking its not important <3

Hmmmm....

Well, BB!TPB is probably the least changed arc to begin with! Better Bones is a project that is basically trying to deliver on the themes I liked in the first 5 books; a flawed society is on the verge of birthing a great monster, a reckoning generations in the making, which can only be saved by the very outcasts their culture seeks to destroy.

So I'm not adding too much to it which isn't just building up the culture some more, adding personality to some background characters (especially mollies), or shoring up cats in ShadowClan.

I've got an old post floating around somewhere about my goals and a basic summary for each book, but here's a MASSIVE ramble about things I plan to add

The three MAJOR cool scenes in here though?

Rusty's Collar

Deerfoot's Sabotauge

Scourge's Collar

Into the Wild: Opening stuff, ThunderClan expansions, Rusty's Collar

For one, DAPPLETAIL has a much bigger role as Firepaw's first teacher. Rusty speaks Townmew; he needs to learn Clanmew.

So I might make the meeting with Graypaw earlier, or just have a bit more of a transitional period where he's "living with a paw in both worlds" before he gets named Firepaw

He also is able to see and take part in some of the Expanded Roles, while still learning Clanmew.

Frostfur is Head of Kitchen Patrol, pregnant, and overworked. Rusty likes her though, he can't always tell what she's saying but he learns she calls him the "Intense Gingerthing (affectionate)" and she's got cool scars

Tigerclaw might be Head of Hunting, or his cousin Willowpelt. Undecided yet; Willowpelt will be taking over after he becomes deputy though.

I forgor who is Construction Head at the moment, probably Mousefur. In any case it's a molly, One-eye has been retired for a long while.

Dappletail is the Educator, naturally, and she hangs out with Ravenpaw and her son Graypaw. Ravenpaw has a habit of telling tall tales.

The adult he's closest to though? Spottedleaf, the Cleric, like a big sister.

IMPORTANT: Rusty's time as a not-apprentice comes to a hard end with his battle against Longtail. Probably because he now understands enough Clanmew to know he's talking shit.

This time though, we're setting up some foreshadowing lads

Unlike other depictions of the collar removal where it's framed like the triumphant moment he enters the Clans, with a beam of sunlight revealing to Bluestar that he is the cat of great prophecy, his collar being snapped off comes with trembling fury and anxiety

He was terrified and angry in that moment! He's been bullied by Longtail, it just came to physical blows, and he was being choked by his collar digging into his throat so he couldn't breathe. When it suddenly SNAPS, he's hacking and coughing, but the whole Clan is cheering at the spectacle, it's like...

He's being told he's just proved himself. The joy of finally getting what he's really wanted, of landing a mark on his bully and being CELEBRATED for it, it starts to wash away the fear and fury.

It's sudden, like whiplash. He's trembling, he's growling, he's smiling. His stomach is rolling and he doesn't know which emotion is turning it.

Then, his collar is buried. He only sees it out of the corner of his eye, Dappletail (someone he likes) digging a little hole and dropping it in. Like getting rid of something dirty. He can't identify the emotion that prickles his heart in that moment, and to his dying day he never learns the word for it.

But it's going to be the same thing he feels, much much later, after the roar of the BloodClan battle has gone quiet and he's staring at the collar he ripped off Scourge. He spared the leader's life and caused the group to retreat... but, looking at that collar, so lovingly studded with trophies not unlike the ivory Clan cats take from boar hunts...

He realizes that it's meaningful. To Scourge. He can't go far enough to admit that his own collar meant something to him... but...

it would be wrong to just discard this. This emotion drives him to eventually approach Scourge and BloodClan again, in the Epilogue, returning the collar as a gift of goodwill and re-opening discussion about Tigerstar's Impossible Deal. These talks open up a new era of peace and trading between Chelford and the White Hart, until TNP brings it to a tragic end.

But anyway!

Ally Expansions + Deerfoot's Sabotage

In an effort to establish that the Clans have unique subcultures, and that the cats within them are unique individuals, BB!TPB needs more positive supporting cast in more than just WindClan.

GATHERINGS NOW HAVE AFTERGATHERINGS. This is like a discreet afterparty, which adult warriors can choose to attend by simply staying behind when their leadership returns home.

Fireheart regularly attends them until the moment he becomes leader.

A few of his friends in other Clans are Aftergathering regulars. Onewhisker, Mosspelt, Wetfoot.

Some others are just occasional visitors. Mistyfoot is brought along by her sis-in-law, Mosspelt, once or twice. Morningflower comes to do some trades.

(at his FIRST aftergathering he gets to meet Carpwhisker and Cinderfur. These two are noted to stop coming when the political tides harden.)

Because this is the Thistle Era, the Aftergathering is much smaller than it will be in a few generations.

They're also still careful to not leak too much information outside of their own Clans, and the ShadowClan cats are even particularly excited at Fireheart's first Aftergathering because it was difficult to regularly attend these while Brokenstar was leader.

DEERFOOT is a MUCH expanded character. Son of Lizardstripe, brother of Runningnose and Tangleburr, Deerfoot is involved in opposing both Brokenstar, and later NIGHTSTAR when he feels he's going against what Deerfoot fought so hard for.

And, most famously and most fatally, he's the head of the TigerClan Rebels.

Much as I like Ravenpaw... he's not getting his cameo at Stonefur's execution. No, I'm not going to be having the HalfClan cats rescued by Graystripe's bad feeling and also Ravenpaw is there. Freeing the prisoners was an action that came from WITHIN TigerClan.

Deerfoot is going to be beseeching Firestar for it. I haven't figured out EXACTLY how yet, but I'm thinking that it's after Darkstripe was exiled (suddenly, Tigerstar no longer has a mole in ThunderClan) and he's able to ask for Firestar's help openly and honestly, and tell him how many cats will need refuge if the plan is successful.

Being leader now, and not JUST a deputy, Firestar has to consider the way it might drag his Clan into conflict with a huge opponent... which Deerfoot assures won't happen, because his forces have a process. Using ochre and onion, they obscure themselves completely. Not a single one's been caught-- besides the ones who were picked up for the "crime" of being HalfClan.

Deerfoot is going to be killed for what he does here, saving so many lives. So he won't pay for the little trick he's going to pull.

While applying Firestar's ochre and onion, just before entering the camp to rescue the HalfClan cats (and finding they've started an execution early-- with Stonefur), Deerfoot draws back to look at his handiwork. Not a single fleck of his bright, unmistakable orange fur is peaking through his disguise.

So he clicks his tongue, "I've missed a spot." With a rub of his paw, the ochre around the ThunderClan leader's eyes is smudged. Just enough that anyone locking with those green eyes would see the fire poking out from beneath.

Later, when Firestar learns of this after Deerfoot's death... he chuckles with equal parts bitterness and admiration. Most of Deerfoot's Rebels had to go right back to living in TigerClan, and knowing Firestar was leading the battle patrol would take suspicion off them... but, knowing his old, lost ally... a bigger part of it was that Deerfoot was hoping that information would reach Tigerstar and BURN into him.

Compassionate and spiteful to the last, that Deerfoot.

Darkest Hour: BloodClan and Scourge's Collar

I think if I was going to rename the individual books, I'd call the last book of BB!TPB "The Moment of Truth."

BloodClan is keeping the way that it's not important until the last book. Aside from an offhanded mention here and there and a run-in with some peons that replace the rats that attack Bluestar, they're not relevant until the moment they're introduced.

I do want to keep how SURPRISING it was to see them suddenly roll up, keep that feeling that they're brutal, unsettling, foreign. When Tigerstar loses his shit on Scourge for not following his order and attempts to kill him, I want to keep how cold, sudden, and BRUTAL that ending was.

But... when Scourge FIRST appears on screen, he looks much different from the Iceheart he will eventually become. He begins to look less "monstrous" and more like a PERSON as Firestar realizes that they're not so different.

Scourge has no pupils at first. His eyes are solid, icy blue.

He also has no mouth when he isn't about to bite, no lip synch when he talks. Like he's just existing ominously onscreen, wind ruffling his spiky, ungroomed fur.

Before the killing of Tigerstar, it's noted that Scourge's speech is odd, and hard to understand. But, you can sort of make out his intent if you listen carefully.

Firestar recognizes that he is speaking Townmew, his own first language.

Tigerstar doesn't really respect him enough to listen, until he barks an order and Scourge tells him, "...My cats move when I command them, and not before."

Like canon, Firestar steps forward to speak with Scourge. Unlike canon, he very intentionally begins speaking Townmew.

ALSO like canon, when Firestar explains Tigerstar's crimes, that he will never honor any bargains he has made, and thus that they can't be trusted, he rolls that Nat20 and Scourge tells him that there will be no battle today as he thinks about this new information.

And, of course, Tigerstar lost his marbles about this. And also his organs

And Scourge is SEETHING. That's his LAST straw. He made a deal and he is NOT being given what he is owed, he tried to gracefully walk away only for Tigerstar to disrespect him for the last time, and he's SICK. AND. TIRED. Of backstabbing, DISHONORABLE CLAN CATS.

And YET. He remains cool. And he tells Firestar directly, "In light of this, I have changed my mind. We will be taking what we are owed. You have three days to leave, or it will come to combat."

Another big change from canon is that no Clan needs to be convinced to fight. It's a battle culture. They were ALWAYS going to win, or die in glorious combat. Running away is not an option in this era-- they believe their eternal reward is up in StarClan.

But Firestar CAN unite them, bring them together to discuss battle plans. And in this first day...

TigerClan is dismantled. Though Leopardstar tries to cling to her newfound leadership of TigerClan; both Shadow and River are clearly tense and demoralized. Anxious and snappish warriors are mulling about the camp.

and STILL, Firestar is dealing with a bunch of cats who are openly disrespecting him.

Even when he reminds them, "YOU brought him to the Forest! Tigerstar's deal was HALF our land and I could pull LionClan out at any time! I'm trying to HELP YOU"

Darkstripe in particular is still here with his little xenophobic jabs. And he is Xenophobic Jabbering.

In spite of the guilt Leopardstar feels, and the resentment that Blackfoot is starting to feel for Tigerstar and the position he's being thrust into, they're still DIFFICULT, not giving Firestar clear answers about if they're going to come talk battle strategies or not.

Firestar can't believe this.

They're really gonna do this. Say that TigerClan can take care of its own problems.

They're just gonna try and hold onto their scraps of pride and charge into battle, NO plan, because they think they're above him.

After ALL OF THIS, EVERYTHING thats happened, the times they've fought and he's won, becoming deputy, even earning the authority of a leader...

They're STILL not taking him seriously.

This prompts Firestar to end up losing it, the "I saw what you did to Stonefur" speech to Blackstar is moved here, addressed to BOTH of them.

But this time, there's even MORE victims. He lists ALL of them, plus the refugees still in his camp.

And they're gonna kill even MORE cats? What? To be the smuggest corpses in the GROUND?

OR MAYBE THE HAPPIEST LITTLE SKULLS ON THEIR STUPID HILL.

It SHUTS them up.

Leopardstar, in particular, clearly haunted by this... her own father, Mudfur, is one of those refugees. And she is staring intently at some of the bones on the hill.

Unfortunately, her remorse will not stick. Distance will make Blackstar more ashamed, but Leopardstar begins to look back with nostalgia.

But FOR NOW? It MATTERS.

Darkstripe comes in with another little comment, and she snaps at him.

Then she turns back on the Bonehill, and says the, "This belongs to a darker time" line.

Firestar also ends up visiting with Barley Sr, Jr, and Ravenpaw. Chatting about reasons why Ravenpaw still doesn't want to come back, even though Tigerstar is gone.

And about BloodClan, as Barley Senior comes from there. Bone is his mother (though due to some timeline things I'm considering her being his sister; and then Hoot and Jumper are littermates OR cousins of Junior.)

Ends up explaining a bit about the history, how it was formed because of Oakstar, the context of the descendant of Oakstar turning on Scourge like that

Plus why Barley Sr left. His time as a solver, the death of Violet Sr, the way BloodClan demands tribute to keep its cats fed.

And while BloodClan has issues... Firestar is realizing... so do the Clans.

Violence, blood feuds, war... xenophobia. He's still seething over that exchange from earlier.

Firestar's anxious over the big fight, and the people he knows he will lose. GOOD people. The battle won't discern the crackerjacks from the jackasses; people he loves will die. He HAS to win. And yet, his feelings towards Scourge feel frustratingly conflicted.

On the second day...

Finally he's getting somewhere with the other four Clans. Everyone's preparing properly, learning how to fight TOGETHER and not just as four separate entities.

But in ShadowClan, he catches POISONS. Runningnose and Blackfoot are planning to go into battle using the same tactics they used against WindClan-- things that won't kill right away, but will cause inevitable infection and kill slowly, and painfully.

And they're showing OTHERS about it, too.

And this UPSETS Firestar

But, AGAIN, he's able to talk to them. They have a point-- if BloodClan is going to use those claw-weapons, they ALSO have an unfair advantage.

Firestar, about to invent Rules of Engagement: "If they weren't going to use them though?"

That's how Firestar ended up in a british back alley. Meeting with BloodClan.

Scourge is cold and polite, as always, makes a comment about him being early.

Firestar tells him about the poisons, how he's seen them be used before, and how they will kill slowly,

Scourge is torn... at first, thinking it might be a lie, but then the shock of what might happen sets in. He asks, "and why would you warn us about this?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. We're fighting for our home and you're fighting for your promise; It should be a fair fight."

"which means you're reigning them in, then?"

Nods, "If you use the claw extenders, they're going to use an unfair advantage of their own"

As they dig deeper into the conversation, Scourge loses his patience.

"Enough. I've heard enough lies from Clan cats, forest fool. You untrustworthy lot NEVER uphold your end of the bargain, you come here to weaken us but we will not be tricked by a dishonorable foe ever again."

It's starting to hit Firestar now. Scourge... is kinda right.

He's RIGHT to be so distrustful of Clan cats. To think they're dishonorable. He's seen them all himself; liars, hypocrites, cowards, all of them allowing EVIL things to be done to innocent cats.

The pause seems to last days, but it's clear to Scourge he's thinking deeply about what he said.

When Firestar looks up he tells him, "I understand. But I am honorable."

Scourge laughs at that. The whole alley does.

But he stands firm. He will uphold HIS end. "And when you come tomorrow, you will see that I've held my people to it."

"Then you're a greater fool than I thought, weakening yourself."

"Tigerstar believed that honor made us weak," he says with defiance, "and you killed him. I buried him. Now he is dead; don't choose to keep his memory alive."

AND ON THE THIRD AND LAST DAY

When they all come to face off at Fourtrees, it is seen, most of BloodClan is not wearing their extenders.

And most of the Clan cats do not have deathberry-red claws.

There are just some. On both sides.

Scourge is not one of them. His claws are his own

Fire and Scourge step foward in the center, their armies behind them.

Scourge quietly points out the irony in a hushed tone, for what he is about to say could have offended either army;

"Two fools, alike in their dignity. Perhaps in another time we would have been Brothers-in-Honor, you and I."

Brother-in-Honor = Townmew term for someone who unites you through a shared, noble cause.

But Firestar is done. He had to say goodbye to many of his cats this morning, he doesn't know who will live and who will die. The Warriors stand behind him, proud and noble, but terrified to their core. He knows this.

This is their HOME. And he is the holy leader of ThunderClan, bearing the fragment of a star within him.

He's lost his patience, and his sympathy. When he responds, it's loud enough for both armies to hear. (Note: Ever so slightly performative)

"Last chance, Scourge! One step further, and you'll meet the full might of the Warrior Clans."

"Two fools," the little cat laments, "One far more foolish than the other!"

He screeches for BloodClan to attack, and like canon, Firestar loses track of Scourge in the torrent of angry cats

Battle otherwise goes very similar to canon. Out of left field, Darkstripe turns on Firestar with deathberry-red claws, furious and embarassed that he took Tigerstar away and prevented them all from fighting with "every advantage"

Graystripe. One-Man Firestar Defense Squad, body checks him and kills him, trembling in disbelief and immediate regret over his brother's body

Whitestorm loses his fight with Bone and falls, bleeding, to the ground

As he dies, he tells Firestar to let go of his grudges. He was wronged, he was hurt, but please don't let that stop him from making the right choice. Longtail should be deputy.

Firestar announces Longtail is his deputy right there.

The apprentices dogpile Bone in revenge, though I also wouldn't mind changing it. In any case, Bone's dead before Willowpelt can even realize her mate is gone

When he finally sees Scourge again, they grapple ferociously until the little cat breaks loose

Trying to avoid the grallocking move that ended Tigerstar in a blow and not knowing Scourge can't do that without his claw extenders, he pulls back and leaves himself wide open for a vicious transverse slash

He's split open from neck to arm, he can feel himself bleeding out

Scourge looks at him with pity but says nothing, flicking his claws like he's wicking the blood from a sword.

Game_Over.png

Firestar's vision fades into flashing stars and bursts into the silver-and-blue lights of StarClan

He sees the faces of everyone who he's lost, everyone he couldn't save. Spottedleaf who died in a raid. Stonefur whose execution came too soon. Pikepaw who refused to take refuge with his mother. That old bastard Deerfoot. Whitestorm whose blood is replaced with fresh stars.

Yellowfang comes forward, threading constellations like stitches through his gash, snipping at him to stop wriggling like a worm. Spottedleaf is also helping in a way he doesn't understand, licking his fur the wrong way and returning his lost blood like a Mi returns warmth to a cold kitten.

He smiles, filled with the wonderful sensation of a Sharing of Stars, until it hits him again that he needs to go back

Hmm.. maybe ill have it so Whitestorm had no last words and he gives them here. "Don't let the grudges of the past ruin the future. Make the choices you know are right."

Bring the theme together; he was talking about Longtail, but Firestar interprets it differently.

And when he wakes up in his body, gash aching but skillfully closed by the best healers he ever knew, he feels like they filled his veins with a lion's blood.

He grins, a mixture of humor and righteous fury. He didn't know Scourge's tricks, but he doesn't know HIS either.

Scourge has his back turned, focused on Onewhisker who's cowering in front of him. Firestar bowls into him, catching him off guard

"You! You died! I killed you!"

"I played dead."

With a second bolt of strength, Scourge tries to turn it around and they tumble, hissing and spitting, but the little cat doesn't get a second chance

He's pinned like prey, one paw holding his head and the other pulling down his shoulder, growling like an animal with its neck exposed for a brutal killing bite

Firestar lunges down and Scourge screeches, a horrible crack of teeth on bone quiets the battlefield

And then a SNAP

The sun glimmers on the bloodstained collar's fangs, one of the teeth cracked by Firestar's jaws, as he throws it behind him

Scourge's face is truly apparent to Firestar for the first time, his icy eyes wide with astonishment

Firestar recites the beautiful words that had once been made hollow by hypocrisy, "A true warrior does NOT need kill to win their battles," but he presses his paw into Scourge's pulse as a warning, "DO they?!"

He lifts his paw, and Scourge calls for BloodClan to retreat

Though the warriors are shocked at first, they saw his collar ripped off and his black fur soaked in his own blood, and understood they were losing

Just as united as any Forest Four following the command of a leader, each warrior disentangled as quickly as possible and streamed out behind their bolting leader

Some warriors ran after them to chase them out, and came back a few minutes later

And just like that, it was over. They were gone.

But, that collar is laying there, in the light of the setting sun. The inner fabric is purple, covered in a layer of red and brown from a mix of fresh and dry blood. Various teeth poke through, which he now realizes are from various predators.

Firestar gazes at it and feels Rusty's heart beating. He has that strange, indescribable feeling again.

It's... just like Clan cat hunting trophies, yes. It's a valuable, meaningful object to Scourge. It's a spoil of war made of spoils of war. That's why it's stirring his chest, surely. There's something... deeper to this item. It shouldn't be discarded; this item needs to be kept safe.

Or, perhaps, returned.

From there, the epilogue is gravy. When Firestar arrives in the alley again, this time flanked by several cats, Scourge is still recovering from his many injuries. He feels like he's been seeing Firestar's face too often-- and then the collar is gently placed on the ground.

Just like Firestar expected, there's an energy that washes over the gathered cats, and even the unreadable Scourge now seems awestruck by the gesture. The collar was something greater than just a collar; though Firestar couldn't remember if he had ever been told what a BloodClan collar represented.

Speaking, again, in Townmew, he explains that Tigerstar made Scourge an Impossible Deal, which the treacherous tyrant never meant to honor in the first place. But he is dead. BloodClan cannot have the territory and the Clan cats have won it fairly-- but what CAN we do for you? What were you seeking?

The answer was so simple that it was almost sickening. That they'd come to blows, and cats had died, over something that could have been worked out so easily. BloodClan had plenty of food from the humans' excess and hunting in the wilderness was not a skill they ever had anyway. What they wanted was materials.

Wood. Flowers and herbs. A chance to walk along the hiking trail and see the giant trees. Maybe the occasional piece of prey they didn't have access to in the town, like squirrels and frogs.

So, for a while. There was peace in the Forest, bringing the Tiger Era to a definitive close and beginning the fruitful, but short-lived Fire Era.

So! Them's the major changes. Take your pick of the scene you think is coolest, personally I've got a thing for Firestar ripping off Scourge's collar.

#BB!TPB #Better Bones AU #BB!Firestar #BB!Iceheart #BB!Scourge #Minor edit: Got possessed with more dialogue for the scourge confrontation scene

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denkies · 1 year

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The BSD 5 Opening, Tetsu no Ori, is a love song from Atsushi to Akutagawa

Let's start at the beginning of the song, with the accompanying scenes.

Putting Atsushi and Akutagawa with those specific lyrics was probably not a silly mistake done by complete coincidence. But let's keep going!

These lyrics specifically pertain to Atsushi's feelings after Akutagawa's death. Both "places" in these lyrics refer to the afterlife-- somewhere only seen after death, and somewhere Atsushi doesn't want Akutagawa to go.

"A place you can't go" can also be foreshadowing that Akutagawa doesn't go to the afterlife. He becomes a vampire. On that note, Atsushi believes that Akutagawa can be woken up from his brainwashed state-- and actually begins to succeed in chapter 108. He doesn't believe Akutagawa to be in the afterlife, because he has faith that he's still there.

The anime opening ends with those lyrics, but the full song continues. I'll be talking about some specific parts, which pertain to the topic.

This one is pretty quickly explained, as Akutagawa and Atsushi quite literally symbolize Yin and Yang, even physically. The line about being unable to ignore the "bug in the iron cage" comes up later!

Past tense, expressing the sorrow that came after the heat of battle. "The loss of ecstacy" seems to reference the 2 battles that they won against Fukuchi, as the ecstacy of winning was taken from them.

"That we can only be slaves to something; knowing that you will lose." is referencing these rewritten battles again -- Fukuchi tells them that they won, but he went back in time (chapter 87). In the lyrics, Atsushi recognizes that they are slaves to Fukuchi's sword, that they can't win.

"Knowing that you will lose" might also reference Atsushi's thoughts on Akutagawa's sacrifice. Atsushi knows that the escape route was only for him; that Akutagawa's first and foremost priory was getting Atsushi out alive. Knowing that he couldn't have saved Akutagawa from Fukuchi, because Akutagawa didn't want to be saved. He was going to lose, in every scenario, to keep Atsushi safe.

And finally, this part. "You've already taken flight; you've become a butterfly," again, referencing Akutagawa's death. Funnily enough, I think this also ties into Akutagawa not actually being dead. Butterflies symbolize the soul, death, and rebirth. All of these are relevant to him in vampire form, so equating him to a butterfly isn't too far off. It's also very pretty and sweet.

The line about the iron cage comes up again, this time, Atsushi revealing himself to be the "bug in the iron cage." The entire sequence seems to be about Atsushi's grief, that he can't ignore and is trapped in like a cage.

His desire to be free is also tied to him wishing to be reunited with Akutagawa. "You've already taken flight / If I could fly now, outside the iron cage..." I think it conveys that Atsushi wants to escape this grief, but only if it means reuniting with Akutagawa once more.

Lastly, as my evidence, the song title "Tetsu no Ori" (鉄の檻) literally means "Iron Cage". The song itself is about Atsushi being trapped in his grief, and love, after Akutagawa's death.

I rest my case.

#goddamn that took forever to write. hi.#if this essay flops or gets hate i will actually cry myself to sleep #oh yeah and that “kiss in the moonlight” line was also crazy #like how romantic can they get? sigh #shin soukoku #sskk #bsd #bungou stray dogs 5 #bungou stray dogs #bsd 5 #bsd season 5 spoilers #bsd season 5 #bsd s5 #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nakajima atsushi #atsuaku #covering my bases #a.txt

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woah-were-halfway-there · 10 months

Text

Just What I Needed

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: here is the official rewritten and revamped first part of JWIN 🥹 it’s Carson and Auston discovering they’re expecting again and has been changed quite a bit. Hope you enjoy!

~*~

It was during a late evening in November when the thought of telling Auston what Carson spent the last few days running through her mind.

The two of them were at home, cuddled up on the couch together with one almost empty glass of wine, and one full one sitting on the coffee table nearby. Mia had fallen asleep fairly early that night, still adjusting to the time change of only being home from Sweden. So Carson and Auston decided to make the most of this chill Wednesday evening at home before he was set to leave the following afternoon with the team as they travelled to Chicago and then Pittsburgh. He wouldn’t be back until late that Saturday night.

At first, they were going to watch a movie together. But after Auston poured those two glasses of wine and the two of them engaged in a deep conversation about life, a movie wasn’t needed for they were both just so content with the others' presence.

It was peaceful. Frank was asleep in Mia’s room with her and Matthew had called it an early night, retreating to the basement after helping Carson clean up once they all finished eating dinner and Auston was upstairs bathing Mia. So, it was just Carson and Auston hanging out in their sweats relaxing together.

Carson wasn’t sure how or when she ended up in the position of almost laying directly on top of Auston, with her head resting against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her as Gloria by The Lumineers played softly from the TV and she watched their Christmas tree twinkle over in the corner by the big window, but she wasn’t too mad about either.

Everything about that moment seemed perfect, but then Carson glanced back to that full glass of wine.

There was a reason she wasn’t drinking and a huge part of her wondered if Auston had noticed. It was likely that he did but didn’t feel the need to bring it up or pressure her into giving him an answer, which made Carson feel a lot better about the thoughts running through her mind.

See, there was a reason she wasn’t drinking. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, because realistically, she wasn’t one to pass up wine, like ever. But she had been refraining from drinking it because there was something she just had to be sure about before she did.

She’d been feeling off as of late. It started shortly before they left for Sweden. There were some days Carson wouldn’t have much of an appetite, and others that she would have trouble getting out of bed because she just felt so crappy.

Auston noticed, naturally. He always did and became a little concerned about the upcoming trip if Carson wasn’t feeling well. Carson, however, insisted she was fine. She focused on powering through whatever she was feeling because she wanted to be there, supporting her husband in Stockholm and experiencing something so unforgettable. Carson also was determined to not let a little illness get to her because there she had a very sassy little girl whom she loved more than anything in the world and needed her mama.

Mia was roughly two months away from being two years old, which was absolutely crazy to Carson. Time had flown by and earlier that day while out on a walk with her, Auston and Frank, she found herself thinking back to when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter in the first place.

Finding out they were expecting Mia was an entire whirlwind of an experience. Carson was ridiculously sick and hadn’t even considered the thought of being pregnant, but after talking with Ema about the symptoms she had, Carson knew it was a possibility. Later that same evening, was when she found out she was going to be a mom.

Remembering that while hunched over the toilet in the bathroom of their hotel in Stockholm, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass, was when Carson started to think she might be pregnant again. The signs were there, her period was late. The more Carson thought about it, the more she became convinced that’s what was going on.

Except, they were in Sweden.

Being in Stockholm was an incredible experience, but it was also hectic. There was so much going on, that Carson barely had any time to just chill and process everything. As soon as the thought of being pregnant again crept into her mind, she wanted to tell Auston. While their group was out for dinner and she hardly ate and mainly just sipped on her water, others picked up on something being off.

Steph mentioned it, Mitch did too and of course, so did Auston. However, he didn’t want to make a scene about it because he knew Carson wouldn’t want that.

During dinner, when Mia got fussy, Carson was quick to excuse her and Mia to go outside and get some fresh air, but Auston wasn’t far behind them. Not only did he want to help with Mia and make her feel better, but he needed to check in on Carson too. They weren’t outside for long before Willy showed up and took Mia from them saying he’d hang out with her and they could go back inside.

Carson tried to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but before she could, Willy was already wandering off with Mia and she was gradually getting in better spirits being with one of her favourite guys.

Before going back inside, Auston checked in on Carson. He said how he noticed she wasn’t eating and how that did concern him which made Carson feel so guilty. She wanted to tell him everything about how she was feeling and that she suspected she may be pregnant again, but she didn’t want to get too ahead of herself. Maybe it was an illness after all and it was easy for her to go along with that.

She should’ve told him and she knew that, but she just couldn’t. The trip was about the Leafs and Carson’s nagging thoughts told her if she did mention that to Auston, she’d be making it about her. She didn’t want to do that, so she held off.

As the days went on, Carson became rather low energy and the morning sickness didn’t subside. She became more convinced that what she suspected was true and she was indeed pregnant.

It killed her not knowing, but it killed her even more that she still hadn’t communicated any of this with Auston. Carson felt terrible but was so set on waiting until they were back in Toronto to tell him. She just hadn’t found the right time, but what better time than when she and Auston are having a relaxing evening at home together?

She had to do it, she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hey, Aus,” Carson started and lifted her head off his chest so that she could look at him as she spoke. “Can I ask you something?”

It wasn’t until Carson was facing Auston that she noticed his eyes were shut, or just how content and peaceful he was lying there with her. I instantly made her feel worse for disturbing him.

Slowly though, Auston’s eyes fluttered open and he gave Carson a tiny smile. “Of course.”

“Uh, you know what? Nevermind. It’s alright. You’re resting, we can talk about it another time.”

“Bub,” Auston said and gave his wife a pointed glance before squeezing her side, making her squirm. “I can assure you that talking isn’t going to wear me out. What’s on your mind?”

“I know,” Carson sighed. “It’s just that it’s not exactly an easy topic to discuss. Pretty serious, actually. And, I don’t know, this isn’t how I planned talking about it either.”

“Carson. You can talk to me about anything at any time.”

He then leaned forward to peck Carson’s lips, making her melt on the inside a bit, but increasing her nerves.

“I- would you ever want to have another baby one day?”

At that, Auston raised his eyebrows, indicating how that was not a question he expected so out of the blue. “I mean, you know the answer. We’ve briefly talked about more kids in the future and I love the thought, but that’s not really for me to decide. It’s your body, and I don’t know. That’s something we can decide together regardless of what I want.”

“Good answer,” Carson told him with a smile as he winked at her.

“Why? Is that something you’ve been thinking about?”

“Kind of.”

“Do you want to have another baby?” He questioned while shifting so he could sit a little more upright, still careful to not shift Carson’s position in the process, though.

“I don’t hate the thought,” Carson stated. “At all. We lucked out with our little sass queen and, god, I just love her so much. Can you imagine her being a big sister?”

“That’s crazy to think about,” Auston chuckled. “But yes, I could see it. And I mean, I grew up with siblings. I’d love for my kids to have that too.”

“Mia is just such a people person already, I could see her loving having a younger sibling. Frank probably wouldn’t mind either.”

“As long as he gets his treats and belly rubs I’m pretty sure Frank will be fine with just about anything,” Auston replied, making Carson smile. “So, yes, you would like to have more kids one day?”

“I would,” Carson told him firmly. “I just don’t know when a good time would be like Mia isn’t even two yet. What is a good time gap between having children? There’s just so many questions I have.”

“Well, I think with our current life situations, there is no such thing as a bad time to have another baby,” Auston reasoned, and Carson knew he had a good point. “But we don’t have to figure that out right now. We can just go with the flow and see what happens.”

“See that’s the thing,” Carson started and took a deep breath. “There’s a reason I wanted to ask you that question.”

“And why is that?” He asked, looking at her softly but Carson could tell he was eagerly waiting for her response. So, she took a deep breath and finally shared what had been on her mind as of late.

“I think I might be pregnant again.”

It took Auston a moment to process what Carson had just said and wrap his head around the concept entirely. When she brought up the topic of having another baby one day, he didn’t think she meant right then. But at the same time, he didn’t care because there was a possibility he might have another little bean running around soon, and he loved that thought.

“Are you serious?” He finally breathed out and noticed just how anxious Carson seemed.

“I- yeah. I haven’t been physically ill like I was when we found out I was pregnant with Mia, but I’ve had quite a bit of morning sickness. Or at least that’s what I think it is. I don’t know, I feel like there’s just something going on with my body, and I mean, there’s still the likelihood that I’m not pregnant again, but, my period is late and-.”

“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself,” Auston spoke up when Carson began rambling. She was thankful for how well he was handling what she said, but Carson still felt overly emotional about it as she shifted away from him and started fiddling with the throw blanket that covered them as a way to keep herself from crying. However, it didn’t take long for Auston to notice what she was doing. “Babe, come here. Talk to me, please.”

Auston sat upright and moved to pull Carson close to him again. Once his arm was around her waist, though, he hesitated because he wasn’t sure if she wanted her space or not, but when she didn’t move away, he took that as a sign to continue.

“How long have you been thinking this?”

“Since we were in Sweden,” Carson blubbered. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it wasn’t the time. And I know that wasn’t a fair decision for me to make on my own because you are my partner and you deserve to know but, I just, I just couldn’t, Auston. I know you and I know that’s all you would’ve been thinking about during that trip but I didn’t want it to be.”

“As much as I wish you told me then so you wouldn’t have to keep this all on yourself,” Auston started softly. “I’m not going to be upset with you about it, Carse. But, I can tell you’re upset. What’s got you feeling this way, beautiful? This is good news.”

“I just need to know, Auston,” Carson whispered as she turned to face him again, and he didn’t miss a beat by reaching up to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. “I need to know if I’m pregnant so bad, but at the same time, I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean?”

Carson sighed.

“I hate not knowing why I’m feeling the way that I am. If I’m not pregnant, then what’s wrong with me? And it’s also so much more than that too. The thought of having another baby right now is terrifying. What if something happens while you’re away or I just struggle because you’re not here? Remember how stressed we were about that kind of thing with Mia? Sure it all worked out, but the thought still makes me nervous, and the timing would be completely different, seeing as it’s November. You were in the off-season for pretty much the entire first half of my pregnancy last time, I had you with me when I felt like I needed it most. I don’t know, I feel like I’m getting so worked up now, but I worry about these things, Aus.”

“I understand,” Auston nodded and looked away thoughtfully, the expression on his face changing. But Carson knew that look, he was internally blaming himself over what she had said, but she refused to let him. “I’m sorry you feel stressed about this and that I can’t always be here. I wish I could, Carson. More than anything.”

“I know you do, and that’s enough, Auston. You’re enough.”

“It doesn’t always feel like it, though. I feel like I miss so many things. Mia is growing up insanely fast, and I’m not always here for it all. Who’s to say it won’t be the same or worse when we do have another baby?”

“You’re not missing anything, though. As much as I too wish you could be here all the time, you’re doing what you love. Mia and I will always be cheering you on as you do that too. Just because you’re away sometimes doesn’t mean Mia is going to forget about you or love you any less. You know damn well how much of a daddy’s girl she is. She can’t contain her excitement when you come home from a road trip because she loves you so much. I just know that if or when we have any more kids, it’ll be the same. You’re an incredible dad, Auston. I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in all of this.”

At that, Auston smiled before shaking his head.

“I thought I was the one trying to make you feel better.”

Carson chuckled.

“That’s kinda how we work, huh? Always levelling the other out in some way.”

“Always,” he replied before leaning forward to kiss her softly again. “We just get each other like that. Which is also how I know there’s something else that’s bothering you. Come on, spill.”

“You’re very observant, Matthews,” Carson mumbled while rolling her eyes.

“Please, you find it endearing.”

“I find it annoying,” she corrected, making him scoff as she chuckled at his reaction. “I’m kidding. But yeah, I guess there is something still bothering me, but it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Try me,” Auston replied, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“It’s just, yes, there are things that make me feel uneasy about the possibility of being pregnant, but as I said earlier, I really would love to have more kids. I love thinking about Mia being a big sister one day, and the thought of growing our family together. But what if right now isn’t the time to do so? Maybe there never will be a right time.”

“I don’t think the timing is an issue,” Auston stated and began tracing over Carson’s knuckles with his thumb. “I can’t think of us having more kids being at a bad time, ever. It could be now, or it could be months or years down the road, and I’d still be happy. But only if you’re ready, of course.”

“I think I am,” Carson told him honestly. “Which is also stressing me out because I want to be pregnant again. It feels weird to say out loud, but yeah, I’m hoping that I am pregnant, however, maybe I’m not Auston. I have this gut feeling that I am, but I’m afraid I’m getting my hopes up. A lot of people struggle with getting pregnant, and we can’t assume we won’t either just because we’ve already lucked out with our little girl.”

Carson stopped and wiped away a tear she could feel that was about to break free again. Auston was quiet, but after a moment of processing what she just said, he finally spoke up again.

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“More than I probably should be. I just really care about it, maybe a little too much.”

“There’s no such thing as caring too much,” he responded and nudged Carson’s shoulder so she’d look at him again. “You’re just full of so much love, and that’s fine. It’s part of what makes you an amazing mother to our daughter. But, regardless, we’re in this together. Although there may be some bumps along the way, everything is going to be fine. This may be one of those bumps, but it also might be what we’re hoping for. Pregnant or not, though, we’re going to be ok, Carson. I promise.”

Carson was full-on sobbing by that point. Auston always knew what to say when she needed to get out of her head a little bit, and this situation was no exception. She wasn’t crying because she was upset or frustrated, she was just so damn emotional having conversations like this one, but so thankful to have Auston help her get through them.

Once Auston realized Carson was crying again, he was quick to pull her into his embrace and hold onto her tightly. He didn’t say anything, just let her get those emotions out while gently rubbing her back and placing soft pecks on her head. After a minute or so went by, he began reassuring her and telling her how much he loved her all without letting go. It was no wonder how, after that, Carson eventually started feeling better.

“Thank you, Auston, I needed that,” she told him as she moved away, sniffling and wiping away any stray tears.

“Of course, I’m always going to be here for you, bub. Don’t feel like you have to bottle up anything, ok? We’re a team.”

“The best one,” Carson stated before letting out a shaky breath. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Auston replied while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “So much. We’re going to be fine.”

“As long as we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he nodded with a smile.

Carson returned the smile before shrugging a little bit. “I don’t know how I’m going to wait until Sunday when you’re home again to take some tests and know for sure.”

“I could run to the pharmacy now and get some if you’d like,” he suggested. “Then we know. And depending on what they say, you can make an appointment with your doctor, and we can go from there.”

“Auston, I’m not going to make you go buy pregnancy tests for me,” Carson told him and shook her head.

“You’re not making me do anything, I’m offering to get them. It’ll take me no more than 20 minutes to go get some and come back. Would you feel better knowing tonight than waiting?”

“Well, yeah, but-.”

“Then I’ll do it, Carson, I’m sure I can manage to buy some pregnancy tests,” he retorted. “It’s not late, bub. It’s nothing for me to do. You stay here and relax, alright? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. But, I won’t get the tests if you don’t want to take them.”

“No, I do,” Carson started. “I want to see what they say at least. I just didn’t want to do it alone. That’s why I figured we wait until Sunday.”

“You’re not going to be alone. I’ll go right now and we can do this together. Deal?”

Carson smiled and looked down at his extended hand, chuckling at how he was going to make her shake in agreement with this game plan. But regardless, she took his hand and shook it; feeling even more nervous and excited than before.

“Deal.”

“Perfect,” he replied then pecked her lips once again before she rolled to the side and he got out from under her. “I’ll be right back.”

Carson watched as Auston rushed out of the living room and into the foyer where he fumbled to put on his shoes and a jacket. She tried to stop herself from laughing, but it was hard not to. He was excited and it made all soft and mushy on the inside.

“I love you!”

“I love you, too,” Carson chuckled as he blew her a kiss before rushing down the hallway to the garage. He was quiet making his way to the garage, but the noise of the garage door opening was a startle and something neither of them accounted for in their excitement.

“Oh, no,” Carson whispered to herself knowing what was about to come. Soon enough, she heard a bark from upstairs. Frank wasn’t one to go crazy with barking unless he felt threatened, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to bark at noises that startled him. It also wasn’t uncommon for the garage door to do just that, which led to the sounds of shuffling and groaning of a little girl who had just accidentally been woke up.

“Daddy?” Mia’s voice sounded through the monitor, sounding so sleepy. “Mama.”

“Should’ve seen that one coming,” Carson whispered to herself as she got up off the couch and hurried upstairs to go check on Mia. When she entered Mia’s room, unsurprisingly, Mia was sat up holding Whaley in one arm and knuckling at her eyes tiredly with the opposite hand. “Hi, sweet girl.”

Mia looked at her with a pout and then let out a dramatic huff, showing quite the resemblance to her father when he gets woken up unexpectedly.

“Fwank bawked, mommy.”

“He did bark, didn’t he? And it woke you up.”

“Yeah,” Mia replied and immediately crawled onto Carson’s lap once she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Oh, honey,” Carson said while Mia slumped against her chest and let out a big yawn. She then started gently rubbing Mia’s back as a way to soothe her back to sleep. “Why don’t we lay back down, baby? I’ll stay with you.”

“Daddy comin’?” Mia asked, not moving from her spot and letting out a sigh of contentment as Carson started playing with her curls.

“Daddy just ran to the store real quick, but he’ll be back soon. Now let’s lay back down.”

“I see him.”

“Mia,” Carson started to reason, but stopped when Mia leaned back to look up at her with those big brown eyes that were her absolute weakness. Something both Mia and Auston tended to use to their advantage. “You want to go downstairs and wait for your daddy to get home, don’t you?”

Mia just blinked in response, then giggled.

“You are your father’s daughter.”

And with that, Carson got up off the bed and carried Mia and Whaley downstairs to the living room, with Frank in tow, of course. The two girls got curled up on the couch together and Carson put on the sleepytime episode of Bluey for them to watch while they waited for Auston. Normally, Carson and Auston tried to refrain from screens when it was bedtime for Mia, but there were sometimes exceptions and this night was one of them.

Realistically, it was only 8:30pm, which was around Mia’s usual bedtime. Again, with the time change from travelling to Sweden, Mia’s bedtime routine had been off since getting home. She fell asleep almost right after dinner, hardly making it through bathtime then absolutely crashing shortly after 6:30pm. Carson knew Mia be up for a little while, but given how tired Mia was, there was no way she’d be up for very long once Auston was home.

Carson began gently scratching Mia’s head with her manicured nails, something she knew Mia loved. It was obvious Mia was content with the little sigh that left her mouth as she cuddled closer to her mom, eyes still fixated on the TV. Carson smiled as she looked down at Mia, then suddenly felt herself getting emotional over the thought of her sweet little girl potentially being a big sister. The thought hit Carson like a tidal wave and she started feeling all types of things, however, something kept her from getting too deep into her thoughts.

A door opened and closed from the kitchen and soft footsteps soon followed. It was too soon for Auston to be home yet and the only door in the kitchen that wasn’t the sliding glass ones leading to the back deck was the one that led to the basement. So there was only one other person it could be.

“Hey,” Matthew greeted as stepped into the living room. His hair was damp, indicating he showered recently and he too was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. A common attire in the Matthews household. “Heard some commotion up here, just figured I’d come up and check to make sure everything’s ok.”

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry if we were loud,” Carson said and sniffled, internally cursing herself for not realizing she started crying. But, she tried playing it off. “Auston just ran to the store to get something for me and, well, little miss over here woke up in the process.”

“Matty!” Mia greeted as excitedly as her tired little self could.

“Hi, Mia,” Matthew chuckled then stepped into the living room and in front of the couch so he could crouch down to pet Frank but also be at eye level with Mia. “Are you giving your mom a tough time about going back to sleep?”

“Nooooo,” Mia giggled. “Daddy home soon.”

“Ah, yes, everything is about Daddy,” Carson teased, making Matthew laugh as he glanced at her, his expression falling when he noticed she had tears in her eyes.

“Carson, are you alright?” He asked, concern written all over his features.

“I’m fine!” Carson assured and quickly wiped away the tears welled in her eyes before Mia noticed. Matthew picked up on what she was doing, trying to conceal her tears from Mia. So, he didn’t press it but he gave her a pointed look as he moved from his crouching position and onto the couch on the other side of Mia. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me, but thank you for checking in.”

Carson gave him a genuine smile. Matthew was so sweet and considerate, she truly loved having him stay with them. She’d gotten to know him a lot better in Arizona during the summer as he trained with Auston. He was a great fit in their household and Mia adored him.

“Carson-.”

“It’s nothing bad, Matty. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Auston would not be happy knowing you’re upset.”

“I know, and that’s why we don’t need to tell him,” Carson responded and looked at him with a wide-eyed expression, silently pleading that this stayed between them.

Matthew let out a breath of defeat, then nodded. He seemed like he was going to drop it but still wanted to say something. However, before he could, the garage door opening sounded and they both knew Auston was home.

“Daddy!” Mia said quietly, but excitedly. She didn’t move from her spot, though, because she knew she didn’t have to. Auston would come to her.

Even Frank knew what that noise meant and didn’t bark this time, instead, he got up and trotted out of the living room, assumedly headed down the hallway to the door that led to the garage. A moment later, that same door opened and closed.

“Oh, hi Frank,” Auston greeted quietly and Carson could picture him taking time to pet their Goldendoodle before coming further into the house. “What’re you doing down here, hmm? I thought you were upstairs with Mia. Let’s go find Carson.”

Carson smiled listening to him, then glanced down at Mia, who was still focused on her show.

“He’s gonna be in for a surprise when he sees you awake, little girl,” Carson whispered as she gently pushed Mia’s curls back away from her face, then leaned down to peck the top of her head.

She and Matthew then glanced at each other while they listened to Auston’s footsteps approach, then he soon appeared.

“Carse, I wasn’t sure which one to get so I got multiple,” Auston stated as he walked into the room holding three different pregnancy test boxes, but halted once he noticed it wasn’t just his wife in the living room anymore. Carson’s hands immediately covered her face in embarrassment at the boxes he was waving around. “Woah.”

“Hi, dada,” Mia greeted all smiley as she leaned forward so she could see him.

“Hi, baby girl. And what are you doing up?”

Mia just giggled in response while Carson peaked between her fingers to watch the scene unfold. Auston looked so puzzled at Mia being awake, then a flash of surprise when he saw it wasn’t just his girls and Matthew was there too.

“Clear Blue,” he mouthed, squinting at one of the boxes Auston held before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, OH! Wait, are you two?”

Carson felt her face going so red, then groaned as she flopped back against the couch, earning a questioning glance from Mia.

“We don’t know,” Carson said eventually. “I, I think so, yeah. But we’re not sure. That’s why Auston ran to the store to get some tests, so we could know.”

“Yeah, surprise, I guess,” Auston spoke up then made a face that resembled the grimacing face emoji. Then his eyes fell on Mia again and he looked like he was pondering something. “Did I wake her up?”

“The garage,” Auston, Carson and Matthew said simultaneously as Auston put all the pieces together.

“Gawage,” Mia repeated as she leaned back against the couch again and let out another big yawn, still unbothered. Carson couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she looked down at Mia again, but soon her gaze was back on Auston.

“You got three different tests?”

“I got five different tests, actually,” he replied, putting the three boxes he held in one hand before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out two more. He then took off his jacket and hung it up before making his way around the couch and sitting next to Carson.“There were so many different brands and types. I kinda decided just to wing it and hope for the best.”

Carson’s heart swelled with so much love for the man sitting before her. She could feel her eyes beginning to water again, but she played it off as she let out a small laugh and shook her head.

“Thank you,” she told him softly as they made eye contact again. “I appreciate you going to get those for me.”

“Of course. Anything for you, bub. You know I don’t mind.”

Carson smiled again, but then her attention snapped back to Mia as she let out a groan then laid her head on the pillow next to her and snuggled Whaley closer to her. Carson and Auston then looked at each other and chuckled, they were thinking the same thing about their dramatic toddler.

“We need to get her back to sleep,” Carson stated and Auston nodded in agreement.

“For our sanity and hers, yes,” he replied, leaning over to tap Mia’s arm. “Mini, why don’t we go back upstairs to bed?”

“Bwuey, daddy,” Mia said as she shook her head and pointed to the TV. Her episode of Bluey was still on and she was determined to finish watching it. “Mommy cuddow?”

Carson and Auston glanced at each other again and considered their options regarding Mia being awake and Carson somehow sneaking away to drink some water and then take the pregnancy tests, despite Mia wanting her to lay down and cuddle with her.

“Maybe we should wait till morning, Aus,” Carson sighed and glanced down at the boxes. “I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Auston nodded in understanding and went to respond, but another voice spoke up before he could.

“Mia, can I watch Bluey with you?” Matthew asked as he scooted toward her.

Mia’s face lit up at the idea and she soon sat back up and moved the pillow away before patting the now-empty space so he’d sit there. “Yeah, Matty!”

Matthew smiled as he got situated in the spot next to her and Mia wasn’t long in leaning against him and letting out a sigh of contentment as she looked back at the TV. Matthew then looked at Carson and Auston and spoke up again.

“You two go do what you need to do, together. I’ll hang with Mia until you’re done, but take your time.” Then he lowered his voice into a whisper that only they would hear. “Maybe she’ll fall back asleep.”

Carson truly appreciated the offer, but she didn’t want Matthew to feel like he had to babysit. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched Mia for them since moving in. He hung out with Mia often if he didn’t have anything else going on and the two had a great relationship. He’d even talked to Carson and Auston about wanting to introduce his girlfriend to them but especially Mia when she came for a visit in the new year. But, still, Carson didn’t want him to feel like watching Mia was a trade-off for them letting him stay there or anything of the sort.

She was about to tell him he didn’t need to do that, but Auston squeezing her knee in reassurance prevented her from doing so.

“That’d be really helpful,” Auston stated, then stood up from the couch. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Matthew assured them with a smile.

Auston nodded in thanks then looked down at Carson and smirked. “Come on, you.”

Carson looked up at him and shook her head slightly before standing up as well. She didn’t say anything as she took two of the pregnancy tests from Auston’s right hand and placed her left hand there instead, squeezing his hand before looking back at Matthew.

“Thank you,” she said, then looked back at Auston with and a small smile. “Lead the way.”

No questions came from Mia as her parents made their way around the couch and out of the living room. With how she was fighting so hard to keep her eyes open, they didn’t expect her to put up much of a fuss about them leaving.

Before going upstairs, Carson and Auston stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for Carson to drink before she took the tests. Then they headed up to their master bedroom together.

They sat on the bed together, chatting about how their lives could change depending on what those tests said while Carson sipped her water. Despite still feeling anxious, talking it all through with Auston made Carson feel a lot better and she was able to fully admit how she was hoping for a positive result on the tests.

About twenty minutes after Carson finished her water, she was ready to head into the ensuite with the tests and see what they said.

“I’ll be right here,” Auston told Carson as he gently tipped her chin up to look at him before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips. He knew she wanted her space as she took the tests.

“I’ll come get you once I’m done and we can look at them together,” Carson responded then pecked his lips again before standing up off the bed. She then took a deep breath, then headed into the ensuite and did what she needed to do.

About ten minutes later, Carson left the bathroom with her phone in hand and a timer set. She remained quiet as she entered the bedroom and crawled into the spot beside where Auston was leaning against the headboard on their bed. He didn’t say anything, just pulled Carson closer and let her cuddle into his side, knowing all that needed to be said would happen in the next few minutes or so. He watched as she kept tapping her phone screen to life, anxiously counting down the seconds to when the two of them could go see what each of the tests said.

Carson was content just laying there with the love of her life that after a few moments, she did stop constantly checking the timer on her phone and just enjoyed being with him. She wasn’t sure how much time passed and could feel herself dozing off with how comfortable she was, but then the alarm went off.

They both jumped slightly and Carson scrambled to cancel the alarm so the noise would subside, then took a deep breath and looked up at Auston.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Carson spoke quietly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of them got off the bed and headed to the ensuite hand in hand.

Carson had left the door open so they could easily see the four tests she took sitting where she lined them up and upon seeing them again, she felt a familiar anxious knot form in her stomach. She saved the fifth one on purpose for if she needed further confirmation of whether she was indeed pregnant or not, and after one final glance at Auston, she stepped into the room first to see what each one said.

After glancing down at the first test, Carson’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. There was no plus or minus symbol, no message on the tiny screen indicating what she wanted to know so badly, no nothing. Without even thinking, she reached out and grabbed Auston’s hand, hoping for some reassurance because she could already feel her hope slipping away, but then he spoke up.

“Bub, look at the other three.”

So, she did, and sure enough, each one stated that yes, she was pregnant.

“Oh, my God,” Carson gasped as a sob involuntarily left her mouth. She immediately moved a hand up to cover her mouth and looked at Auston with watery eyes before he pulled her in for a tight hug. “We’re having another baby. I- oh, my God.”

Carson was full-on sobbing while Auston chuckled at her words before moving away so that he could put both hands gently on the sides of her neck and kiss her. He had happy tears in his eyes.

“Everything’s going to be ok,” he promised then placed his forehead against hers. “We’re going to be parents again, Carse.”

“I’ve never been a mom of two before,” Carson blubbered, then let Auston pull her into his embrace again.

“I know, bub,” Auston soothed while rubbing his hand up and down her back. “But, we’re going to figure it out. We always do.”

Carson couldn’t tell with how her face was buried against the fabric of the hoodie Auston wore, but he was smiling so damn wide. He was ecstatic and instinctively wanted to know more. How far along was she? When would the doctor predict her due date would be? And most importantly, was the baby healthy?

Auston had so many questions, but he was aware that it wasn’t the time to ask them. He knew this was going to be hers and his little secret for the time being. Although he was content with that, he was just so excited and couldn’t wait to see how the rest would all play out.

The two of them stood there for a moment, relishing in the news and not letting go of one another. Eventually, Carson moved away and Auston gently cupped her cheeks, looking at her with so much love and adoration before they both laughed at how emotional they were being.

“I love you, Auston Matthews,” Carson stated firmly, acting as if he’d ever forget.

“And I love you, Carson,” he replied. “I love that we can make it through anything in this life together.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t you dare say that.”

Carson didn’t argue, instead just wrapped her arms around Auston’s middle and crashed against his chest again. Auston started playing with her hair and the two stood there in silence for a few moments before they heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Mia,” they said in unison as they leaned away and looked at each other with wide eyes, suddenly remembering Matthew was watching her. The two of them moved away from the other and Auston followed Carson as she beelined out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and into the hallway before stopping.

At the other end of the hall, Matthew rounded the corner holding Whaley and a very asleep Mia in his arms. Frank was right there too.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted and came to a stop once he noticed Carson and Auston standing there. “She passed out about fifteen minutes ago so I figured I’d bring her up to bed. You two alright?”

Matthew wasn’t prying, just asking a genuine question to two people he cared for, which Carson and Auston knew. The two of them glanced at each other and then smiled when they realized they were thinking the same thing about sharing the news with him.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Carson assured as she and Auston looked back at Matthew, then she took a breath. “But, there’s going to be a new addition to the house sometime between now and next season.”

“No way,” Matthew smiled widely. “That’s amazing. Congratulations, you two!”

“Thanks, man,” Auston said, smiling too as he walked towards Matthew and took Mia from his hold. “Here, I got her.”

Matthew gently passed Mia over, making sure she didn’t get woken up and smiled as she nuzzled closer to her dad even in her sleep. Then he glanced between Auston and Carson.

“Wait, I’m the only other person who knows, aren’t I?”

“You’re part of this household, so it seems fitting that you are,” Carson told him with a grin. “We’ll figure out how to tell our families and friends after I see my doctor and figure out all the details. Then we’ll go from there about everyone else knowing.”

She was referring to the media and fans as everyone else. Matthew knew that and respected the privacy they understandably would want during a time like this.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“Hope you’re prepared for the absolute fit Mitch is going to have knowing that you knew before he did,” Auston said to Matthew, making all three adults laugh.

“I’ve been telling him being Carson’s twin has nothing on me being the one living in your guys’ basement!”

“Oh, I can imagine he takes that statement very personally,” Carson chuckled and shook her head. After a brief moment, Matthew spoke up again.

“Well, I’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your night together,” he said and handed Auston Whaley as well. “Congrats again. Tone, what time are we heading out for practice in the morning?”

“Probably around 10,” Auston told him.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready before you go,” Carson chimed in. “Let me know if there’s anything particular you’d like.”

“You know I’m not going to complain about any of the food you cook me, Carse,” Matthew told her. “It’s always so good.”

“Kiss ass,” Auston teased, earning a scowl from Matthew and an eye roll from Carson.

“Have a good night, Matty. Thanks again for watching Mia,” Carson said and Matthew assured them it was no problem before heading back downstairs.

“You go get ready for bed,” Auston spoke up again. “I’ll put Mia in her bed then I’ll be right there.”

“Ok, sounds like a plan.”

Auston then dipped out of sight and into Mia’s room and Carson was about to go back into their bedroom, but stopped herself when she remembered they’d left lights and the TV on downstairs.

She scurried past Mia’s room to the top of the stairs but didn’t have to go down them when she heard Matthew walking around the main level. She could tell that he was turning all the lights off before going back downstairs for the night and smiled at the thoughtful action.

Without having to go downstairs, Carson made her way back to the master bedroom. Once inside, she changed into a pair of silky pyjamas, then went into the ensuite to brush her teeth. She couldn’t help the tears that pricked her eyes or the smile on her lips as she glanced down at the positive pregnancy tests. Everything felt right in her world.

Auston entered the room just as she was finishing brushing her teeth and placed a kiss on the top of her head before he started doing the same. Carson squeezed Auston’s arm as they looked at each other in the mirror before going back into the bedroom and climbing into their bed to wait for him there.

Soon, Auston was getting into their bed as well and pulled Carson close. He held her, gently playing with her hair as they talked about the future and what this new addition to their family meant. Carson was eventually lulled to sleep by how relaxed Auston’s touches made her feel and Auston wasn’t long to do the same, welcoming a peaceful sleep as he anticipated everything that was to come.

#auston matthews imagines #auston matthews fanfiction #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl headcanon #nhl imagine #nhl writing

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deviouz · 10 months

Text

. . . mean!ascended astarion headcanons !!

Something about Astarion’s ascension had changed him, mind, body, and soul. His very chemistry had been altered, everything that had made him him, was rewritten. He had always said that it was for the best, that he was better in every way imaginable after gaining such heightened powers, but that day was troubling for you. Astarion, your Astarion, had died. Nothing perturbed him more than seeing that far off, longing expression etched into your features whenever you thought he wasn’t looking. Gods know he’ll make you regret it later.

“And just what was going on in that pretty little head of yours earlier, my sweet consort? You couldn’t possibly have been thinking about him, could you? No, that simply won’t do. Perhaps all could be forgiven if you get down to your knees and grovel before me. I’m feeling rather nice today, as it is, so beg and I might be tempted to show you a sliver of mercy.”

Astarion is no stranger to any kind of public displays, but he seems to be much keener on doing so in front of his inferiors. To look upon a crowd of people who are no doubt petrified of their ascended vampire lord alone is invigorating, but to be able to do so with you mindlessly rutting away on his thigh makes him feel much more powerful. To have the savior of Baldur’s Gate rendered down to a pleasure-driven pet, and all his for taking, is just one of the many ways he rules with an iron fist. He’ll have one hand on your hip, guiding you along the fine fabric of his pants, and the other propping his head up as he looks amongst the crowd with a smirk. It was completely and utterly humiliating the first few times he had called for your presence and demanded you to undress completely in front of so many people, but he had long since bullied those thoughts out of your head.

“Yes, that’s it. Come on, darling, you can moan louder than that. I would certainly know. Let them see how well I treat the savior of Baldur’s Gate.”

Your lover could be cruel at times, but nothing ever felt crueler than when he would relentlessly pound into your aching heat with such fervor you were sure you’d be unable to walk come the early hours of the morning. He simply adored pinning your hands above your head, his hips rutting in such a way that it made your eyes roll back and clamp shut. The pleasure was almost always too much yet never enough. It didn’t matter how prettily you begged for astarion, for your lord. He was cruel in these moments. With a grip to your jaw, he’d squeeze your cheeks together and demand you to gaze into his crimson eyes. Astarion relished in witnessing the glassy fog that overtook your irises each and every time you came around his cock, body perfectly bowed and cries loud enough to reverberate in the room, perhaps the entire castle. He was the only one ever capable enough to draw such intense pleasure from your body. He’d kill anyone who ever even thought of you in such a way.

“Ah, ah, ah. look at me, won’t you? Let me see lust-laden those eyes when I grant you such ecstasy. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Oh, how Astarion loved to hear those pathetic little pleas and blubbering begs escape past kiss-swollen lips. Your teary eyes read nothing but desperation, and that much was evident by the way your hips twitched and gyrated each time his touch would disappear. Of course, you had Astarion practically wrapped around your finger. All it took was a few slow, desperate blinks and a couple of soft pleas to have your way, but that was long before he had ascended. Now, Astarion would have you beg, long and loud, until your voice went hoarse and lungs felt as if they were going to give out. He would do this all the while smiling so sweetly down at you, a type of sickly sweet that made goosebumps dot across your skin and all the hairs on your body stand up.

“Come on, darling, don’t be so coy. This coquettish nature is long since necessary. Let me hear those pretty pleas and I will grant you such immense pleasure.”

Astarion’s ascension had brought something new from the depths of what was left of his depraved soul. He relished in your tears. The sheer vulnerability carved into such perfect, delicate features, and all by his doing? Oh, he simply adored it. Nothing is sweeter than seeing you write and sob in his arms, teetering on the edge of your umpteenth orgasm of the night, yet he wasn’t even halfway done with you. You’re a shuddering, sweating, and sobbing mess of numb limbs and can’t help but spew out a cacophony of desperate begs for his relent, but it is never really that easy. Not with Astarion, anyhow. On the other hand, he could be just as equally cruel and spend the entire day bringing you to the blissful edge of what was sure to be a mind-shattering orgasm, over and over and over again, just to practically laugh in your face and deny it. You can pout and grovel all you’d like, but your pleasure is his and his alone. Astarion is the only one who gets to decide when and where you are allowed the pleasure, and sometimes displeasure, of an orgasm, and it’s something he instills in your mind every now and again.

“Really now, pet, did you really think that I was finished with you? Oh, you poor thing — you are quite mistaken. The night has only just begun, after all, and I haven’t had my fill yet, so you will sit there, nice and pretty, and take what I give you with every ounce of gratitude that delectable body of yours can muster.”

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simply-hyacinth · 2 years

Note

You write L so wonderfully and so in character. I had a request if they’re still open: Could I request Reader (any gender) giving L his first kiss, teaching him how to kiss in the process, and L discovering that he really enjoys the sensation of kissing? I headcanon L as so mentally devoted to his work that his physical form has kind of taken a backseat, and so something like a kiss or touch from the right person can ignite in him a new understanding of himself. Thanks for reading! 💖

So, I was gonna answer this later because I have a truly astounding amount of homework to get done, but how could I keep you waiting? Anyways, I tried my best to adhere to your request, and I'm so sorry if it's disappointing, I've never really done this before. Please let me know if you want anything else written or rewritten, or literally anything. Your wish is my command. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! I am trying to write him as realistically as possible because I saw too much ooc L, and so I'm doing my best.

“Cake?” You asked, setting it down in front of him gently so as to not disturb his setup.

“Thank you.” He responded. His eyes never left the screen as he picked up the fork and began to eat.

He had arrived at your apartment last night and in typical L fashion, had given you little notice before knocking on your door with a briefcase of files and papers. He had turned your living room into a crime scene, and as far as you knew, hadn’t slept a wink since he had gotten here.

You didn’t want to ask him any questions or bother him, despite how incredibly curious you were, but you did want to be sure he wasn’t wasting away under your watch. If that meant feeding him desserts every hour to ensure that something was being consumed, then so be it.

“Cake for dinner,” You said softly to the air, shaking your head as you served yourself a slice. “I’m living my childhood dreams.”

Taking a seat next to L, you very carefully pulled a blanket up to your lap. You watched him cautiously, worried that your movements might distract him.

“You are not bothering me.” He said abruptly.

You froze “Are you sure? I can just go to my room if - “

“No, I quite enjoy your presence.” He turned to you. “And if anything, I should be the one worried about bothering you. I have completely taken over your living room with my research.”

In furious denial, you responded, “No not at all! I love having papers about - “ You pick up a paper and skim the first sentence. “ - mass murders…on my couch…”

L let out a soft chuckle, to which you gave him a smile in return. “I should be thankful that you have not yet tired of my existence.”

“How could I ever? You’re my best customer.” You gestured to the state of your messy kitchen - a result of all the baking and cooking you had done for him since he had arrived.

He responded with a little laugh, and turned back to his screen. You admired how much he devoted himself to his work, however it worried you nonstop to see how it ate away at him, both mentally and physically.

You didn’t pretend to understand what he did. As far as you could tell, he was a spy or detective of sorts. He never confirmed or denied your guesses, but there were certain aspects of his routine that allowed you to infer what you could.

What you were sure of, however, was that the only time he was ever able to properly relax was when he was around you. Which only made it that much more saddening that he was so immersed in his research at this moment in time.

But you said nothing. It was never your place to interfere or say anything. That was how the two of you worked.

You picked up your book from the table in front of you and began to read. It was nice, being near him and the two of you being allowed to do your respective things. In fact, the book you were reading was one he had suggested for you after you told him it had been a while since you found a good book.

So far, you were quite happy with the recommendation.

After a couple of hours of just being next to each other and occasionally exchanging words, you began to doze off. The book slipped out of your hands and your head dropped onto L’s shoulder.

For the first time in hours, he was completely taken out of his work mindset. The weight of your body slumped against his was so warm. He knew it probably would be best to let you sleep, but how was he meant to get any work done if you were right against him?

Lucky for him, you started to stir, yawning as you awoke from your brief nap. “You’re here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday.” He replied quietly.

You quickly noticed how much of his personal space you had accidentally invaded and shot straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to - “

L reached over and took your hand. It was a bit of an awkward grab, but you understood he meant it to be comforting. “You do not bother me.” His words were firm.

“Right,” You breathed out, unknowingly lacing your fingers with his. “I forgot.”

“You also seemed to forget that I was here,” He noted. “You were surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation. “I think…I’m not used to you being so present next to me. It was a bit shocking to wake up practically sleeping on you.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “Elaborate. On the part about me being present.”

“It’s not a matter of you being physically absent, but I mean you’re always so absorbed in your work that it’s like you forget I’m here or even where and who you are. Mentally, you are on another planet almost ninety percent of the time.” You explain, embarrassed.

This seemed to bother him. You noticed the way his grip on your hand loosened and his shoulders deflated even more.

“I never meant to make you feel that way.”

Your heart broke at how defeated he sounded. “Not at all! I just want you to be aware that you’re allowed to relax around me. You’re under no obligations here.”

He nodded. “Then you should also know that I don’t mind you being close to me.” He looked down at where your hands were still intertwined. “I’ve come to enjoy being in contact with you.”

You laughed lightly, relieved. “Thank goodness. I could kiss you right now, you know?”

“You could.” He confirmed quickly. “It would certainly be an experience I’ve never had before.”

To that, your laughter stops. “Never? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I had been.” He said dryly.

“Would you want me to kiss you?” You asked him, your words hushed and curious.

He pondered it for a moment. “I would want you to, of course. I have no expectations on whether or not I will enjoy it, as I have no previous experience to form them from. However, based off of what the vast majority of the population would - “

You decided you had enough of his talking and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and using your free hand to hold his face gently as you did.

By kissing standards, it was not perfect. It was soft and awkward, but to you it was pure bliss. And as you pulled away and saw the gratified look in his eyes, it was fairly evident he felt similarly.

“How was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I’m not sure,” He replied. “I think you should do it again, for me to provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

You let out a laugh and leaned against him. “To be entirely honest with you, I haven’t kissed many people before.”

“In comparison to them, how did I do?”

“Well, that was just a basic kiss.” You explained. “If you really want to be memorable, you should try a little harder.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And how should I do that?”

You gave him a sly smile and moved until his back was pressed against the couch cushions and you were positioned slightly above him, your legs on either side of his lap.

“Just open your mouth…” And like the obedient boyfriend he was, he did. “...lean forward…” Your lips met his again and you pulled him in closer; so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, and for someone who claimed to have never been kissed before, he was oddly passionate.

Breathless, you pulled away and beamed at him. “I would say that was pretty good. You?”

“If I wished to rank it, I would have to kiss other people to properly make a comparison.” You met his eyes, a teasing spark illuminated within them.

You scrunched up your nose. “Don’t joke. You are horribly unfunny.”

“Your lies do not concern me.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise.

“It appears you like being kissed then?”

“If it’s by you, then yes.” He sighed, a mixture of content and sadness. “I apologize for making you feel so unwanted around me while I work. I truly appreciate your presence and your efforts to distract me.”

You nodded acceptingly. “Well, do they at least work?”

L smiled. “They do.”

With a little exhale of relief, you rested your body against his and closed your eyes. “Anyways, you’re pretty good at that whole kissing thing. Maybe we can make it a habit.”

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I would like that.”

Because there was something so satisfying about kissing you, or even touching you, that made him only crave it more. L, whose mind was forever restless, had come to a complete halt the moment your lips had touched his.

It appeared that the only tried and true thing that could ever relax him and bring him out of an overworked state of mind, was being with you.

It was selfish. So incredibly selfish of him. To be with you, knowing the dangers, knowing the consequences, all because it made him feel good.

But he couldn’t help it. Not if it meant the possibility of kissing you again. And so he solidified this resolve in his mind that he wanted you, and only ever you. He knew there could be nothing good to come of this in the long run, but for now, you were both content in each other’s company.

L never stopped thinking about this moment. It might have been one of the only ones where he could truly say he was happy.

#simplyhyacinth #l death note #deathnote #deathnote x reader #deathnote fanfiction #l x reader #lawliet x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x you #l x you

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queenshelby · 10 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 46: FAMILY

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

When you arrived at home later that day, you asked Emma to give you some space and, as luck would have it, Nina was Danielle, giving you and Cillian some time alone.

"Hey babe, how did you go?" he asked as soon as you walked through the door of his apartment, his face etched with concern.

Cillian placed his arms around you gently, pulling you close to his chest. His embrace was warm and inviting, but something inside you hesitated. Even though you longed for affection and solace, this situation required a candid discussion – and one that you desperately wished to avoid.

"Well, I know why I have been getting sick recently," you finally admitted with reluctance, taking a seat on the couch with him.

Cillian furrowed his brow, his blue eyes searching yours for answers.

"And? Tell me," he said, his voice filled with concern as he noticed your reluctance and, just as he did, you steeled yourself against the wave of pain that threatened to engulf you.

"It turns out that I am pregnant," you uttered these words, knowing they would undoubtedly affect everything in your world, including your future together.

Silence fell upon the room like a dense fog, filling the void where air used to flow freely.

For what felt like hours, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, your hearts throbbing loudly within your respective chests. The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, thickening until it became almost suffocating.

Then, you saw it. Flickering uncertainty shimmered in Cillian's eyes, betraying the fact that he hadn't seen this coming either. It dawned on you that despite all the passionate nights shared between the sheets, he too must be feeling as dumbfounded as you.

"Are you sure?" Cillian questioned you softly, a tremor lacing his tone.

Slowly, you nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the truth and the implications that came along with it. Both of you sat motionless, caught in the vortex of uncertainty swirling around you both.

Finally, breaking the silence, Cillian cleared his throat before speaking again. "But you said that you couldn't fall pregnant after your surgery earlier this year," he pointed out, his voice conveying confusion mixed with disappointment.

You bit your lip, the guilt welling up inside you. There was no use denying it anymore, and besides, you owed him honesty, especially in such matters. Taking a deep breath, you explained the entire incident leading to the conception.

"Before my operation, the doctor assured us that there was very little chance of falling pregnant. I lost one of my fallopian tubes and have a substantial amount of scar tissue on my uterus. The chances were near zero," you recounted, watching as Cillian digested the information, but chuckling slightly, nonetheless.

"Cillian, I don't think that's funny," you snapped, irritated at his cavalier attitude toward something that could fundamentally alter both of your lives.

He quickly looked away, shame evident on his features. "No, sorry. It's just… your choice of words amused me. You said that the chances were 'near zero'..." he explained before taking your hands into his and then there was an awkward pause before you decided to delve deeper into the matter at hand.

"I made an appointment for a termination procedure," you told him bluntly, hoping that stating it plainly might ease the tension building between you. However, you noticed that instead of reacting negatively or showing anger towards your statement, Cillian remained silent for several moments, contemplating the gravity of your words. Eventually, he spoke.

"What if we kept it?" he proposed, surprising you with his unexpected suggestion.

Your mouth opened to protest, but he raised his index finger and stopped you mid-sentence.

"Don't say anything yet," he commanded gently. "Just hear me out," he begged and you nooded.

"I know that I said that I do not want any more children and I know that you said that, having a child of your own, was not on your radar, but what are the odds Y/N? Maybe it was fate?" Cillian reasoned earnestly, gazing deeply into your eyes, seeking confirmation of his argument.

"I know you would be amazing as a mother and I can see myself starting a family with you," he then finally said, and his proposal left you speechless because you weren't expecting him to take this turn.

You felt like a rollercoaster ride of conflicting emotions was running wild through your body - shock, happiness, excitement, and dread all melded together. And while you could feel your heart bursting open with love for Cillian, the fear of raising a child amidst his hectic work schedule also loomed large. Yet, his sincerity touched you deeply, making it hard to resist his request.

"You really want me to keep the baby?" you asked tentatively, wanting to ensure that you understood correctly. Cillian smiled reassuringly, a mix of pride and joy spread across his visage.

"Yes Y/N. I know that, realistically, it happened too soon, but I already turned 47 and the chances of you conceiving again when we are ready are far too low, so let's start our family together now," he cupped your face tenderly, looking at you with adoration. "This could be a blessing in disguise," he insisted, adding further conviction to his proposition.

Intrigued, you mulled over his proposal.

Despite your initial resistance due to practical concerns, your feelings began to shift. Deep down, you knew that, if you were to terminate, you might be regretting it later on and, perhaps, this unexpected gift could be an opportunity for growth and a step forward in your relationship.

The thought resonated strongly with you, and suddenly, it seemed less daunting to consider becoming parents together.

"Fuck, okay. Let's start a family," you agreed to Cillian's plea with resignation, your heart sinking into your belly as you tried to wrap your head around this sudden change of events. The two of you sat silently once more, processing this significant pivot in your lives.

After spending a few minutes in quiet reflection, Cillian pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. Sensing your turmoil, he whispered softly into your ear, offering words of assurance. "I promise, we will figure this out together," he vowed.

"Tomorrow, I will get in contact with my real estate agent and find us a house, something with a yard, near the beach," he continued, his plan already forming in his mind. Your heart swelled with appreciation for his determination and willingness to adapt. He truly meant what he said about starting a family with you.

There was still a lot to discuss and prepare for, but somehow, in spite of all challenges ahead, a sense of optimism settled comfortably within you. Perhaps this unplanned pregnancy could indeed bring you even closer together. After all, love knows no bounds and obstacles often serve as catalysts for personal growth.

With renewed hope, anticipation blooming within you, you allowed yourself to envision a new path, one where parenthood awaited at the end of it while Cillian nuzzled your hair, sending a surge of affection coursing through your veins.

"You are going to look incredible with my child growing inside you," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck again more aggressively this time.

"Really? This actually turns you on?" you chuckled in response to his growing arousal over the fact that you would soon be huge with child. Cillian grinned widely, his lust apparent.

"I suppose it does," he answered sheepishly, a blend of desire and protectiveness flickering behind his deep blue eyes.

You giggled, feeling a familiar heat igniting within your core. Glancing at the clock, you noted how late it had become. Despite your lingering anxiety regarding this major turning point in your life, a twinge of eagerness took hold as you considered indulging in something you knew would become rather rare once you became parents.

As if reading your thoughts, Cillian rose from the sofa, pulling you up alongside him.

"Come," he said he led you briskly toward the bedroom, his steps measured and confident and, once you were inside, he pulled you into his embrace once more.

"I love you so much," Cillian whispered into your ear, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. His touch was gentle, caresses light enough to leave only traces of his presence upon your skin, teasing you without fully satisfying the aching need pulsing beneath your surface now.

"And I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, marveling at the warmth radiating off his skin. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, evoking a memory of the night you met.

After not too long, you felt his erection pressed firmly against your stomach, and you smirked playfully. Cillian's desire for you was undeniable, despite everything else happening in his life.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily, as though trying to convey volumes with just his lips alone. Your hands found their way underneath his clothes, exploring every dip and curve of his physique. Each caress sent electric currents shooting throughout your body, creating sensual tension between the two of you.

The chemistry between you seemed stronger than ever, as if destiny herself had intervened, conspiring to make sure that these two souls would always remain intertwined.

Moving swiftly and gracefully, you slid off your clothes and made your way onto the mattress, allowing Cillian to follow suit. Your bodies meshed perfectly together, fitting seamlessly like pieces of a puzzle. As you lay side by side, Cillian’s palm rested lovingly on your abdomen, gently stroking the sensitive area, eliciting involuntary moans from your lips.

"How far along are you?" Cillian asked curiously, gliding his hands expertly across your body, mapping out every contour with his gentle fingertips. His movements brought forth waves of pleasure, drawing you closer still.

"Eight weeks," you responded truthfully, closing your eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of his deft touch. Inhaling sharply, you breathed out, letting it pass through your entire being.

"God, I can't wait for you to start showing," Cillian uttered breathlessly, his voice hoarse from passionate fervor.

His words stirred another wave of anticipation within you, heightening your awareness of the changes your body was undergoing.

"Really?" you mused, genuinely surprised at his remark.

"Yes. I reckon you will look incredibly sexy being pregnant," Cillian stated with confidence, his fingers moving rhythmically against your stomach, sparking electrical charges along your exposed flesh. You couldn't help but laugh in agreement, the idea both titillating and flattering.

Cillian leaned in close to whisper seductively, his breath tickling your ears, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"I don't know why, but knowing that you carry my child turns me on," he confessed huskily, his arm tightening possessively around your shoulder, claiming ownership over your womb.

You laughed, amused by his raw honesty but understanding completely.

"Well, you did a good job knocking me up, against all odds," you retorted, giving him a cheeky smile before you reached below his hips to grasp his member, which was beginning to throb intensely.

"I suppose you can't keep a good man down," Cillian chuckled before a moan escaped his lips, as your hand encircled his length, skillfully manipulating the shape and size of his cock, driving him mad. His groans grew louder, urging you onward, encouraging your ministrations.

"Let me ride you, while I still can," you demanded, biting your lip, a hint of mischief danced in your eyes.

"Please," Cillian simply begged in response as his gaze locked with yours, a mixture of surprise and admiration etched across his features before he rolled onto his back, presenting himself to you.

Your legs straddled him, sitting high above him, leaving no doubt about who was in control. Lowering yourself onto his waiting length, you let out a satisfied sigh, grateful for this brief respite.

Cillian grabbed your hips, holding them steady as you rode him slowly, enjoying the delicious friction of his hardened cock sliding in and out of your wet folds. With each thrust, a sound of satisfaction echoed between the two of you, amplifying the intimacy shared during this fleeting moment.

Cillian watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your passion-filled face and the way your body moved in sync with his own. It seemed almost surreal to him – the reality of making love to you while you were carrying his child.

As if drawn by some invisible force, Cillian wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you closer to him until your skin touched everywhere possible. This simple act drew gasps from both of you, acknowledging the intense connection formed in that single gesture.

"I think your breasts might feel differently soon… they'll grow heavier," Cillian observed, trailing his finger down your bare torso, stopping just short of your full bosom.

"Yes, at which point they will be reserved for our child to use, not you," you mocked playfully, rolling your eyes comically as you bounced up and down on his lap. His grin broadened as his gaze followed your movement, the thrilling spectacle consuming him whole.

"I think that, teaching our child how to share, is a valuable life lesson," Cillian teased, running his fingers through your hair as you continued to ride him.

"I suppose you've got a point there," you conceded playfully, lowering your head to kiss Cillian passionately.

He returned the favor enthusiastically, devouring your mouth with the same intensity you craved. His tongue danced provocatively against yours, matching your rhythmic pace. Your mutual want for each other escalated rapidly, becoming insatiable, fueling your desire further.

"I am close," you panted softly, arching your back slightly, desperately seeking release.

Feeling the powerful tremors coursing through your body, you dug your fingers deeper into Cillian's shoulders, anchoring yourself amidst the unstoppable pull of your climax.

A mere second later, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a tidal wave, bringing you to your knees, overwhelmed by ecstatic joy.

The world outside ceased to exist as you clung to Cillian, his name escaping your lips in a cry of triumph. His strong arms held you securely, shielding you from the storm raging within.

Slowly, your breath began to even out, the adrenaline subsiding gradually from your system as his speed picked up.

"Fill me with your cum, Cill. Fuck, I want it. Please," you purred, your voice heavy with desire, urging him onward. He obliged, pushing forward one last time, filling you with his essence as your orgasm finally crested. You could hear him calling your name in a low voice as you climbed higher towards the peak, feeling yourself losing control.

It was then, in those moments suspended in time, that you realized just how profoundly you loved him - despite everything that happened. The bond between you transcended mere physical connections, reaching deep into the heart and soul and, just maybe, starting a family with this man was not too bad after all.

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