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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

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The Forgotten Nest (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 4.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles; Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: The Daggers start preparing for the mission. Rooster does some searching. Nickie keeps another secret from his mom.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Master List

Maverick stepped out onto the tarmac with his helmet in hand. Bradley was a few paces ahead of him and Maverick picked up his pace to catch up to the younger aviator. After watching Bradley’s reaction to his arrival and his briefing, Maverick knew that Bradley was still holding tightly to the past. And that could only lead to issues.

In the air anyways.

“Bradley,” Maverick called out to him. Bradley didn’t pause or turn around, continuing on his way as if Maverick was just a stray bird flying through. “Bradley!” Still no response. Quickly getting to the end of his rope, Maverick barked out, “Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

That seemed to get Bradley to finally turn around. Rooster stood tall with his shoulders squared, looking like he was preparing to tell a crack head to fuck off more than talk with the man who helped raise him. Maverick stopped in front of him, noting how Rooster’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

“Yes, sir,” Rooster returned mockingly.

“Let’s not do it like this,” Maverick sighed, causing Rooster to look away for a moment.

“You gonna wash me out?” Rooster asked, turning back to Maverick.

“That’ll be up to you. Not me,” Maverick replied calmly.

“Am I dismissed?” Rooster grunted out after a moment, itching to get into his cockpit already.

Maverick’s jaw ticked with annoyance. There was plenty more that he wanted to say to Bradley. Plenty more. But he couldn’t say any of that without giving away Nickie’s existence. And even though Maverick had his own opinions about the situation between his daughter and Rooster, Nickie was her son and it was her decision at the end of the day how she wanted to deal with Bradley. Not his.

“Keep your head on out there,” was all Maverick stated before Rooster stormed off.

Maverick watched Rooster walk off, his jaw ticking with annoyance yet again before he turned for his own plane. Climbing up into the cockpit, Maverick went through his pre-flight checks. Unzipping one of the pockets in his flight suit, Maverick pulled out a singular photo and quickly taped it to the side of his cockpit, out of the way of the dials.

Cora, dressed in her college graduation attire, beamed at the camera with Nickie, who was just about to turn six, perched on her hip with her cap on his head. Cora was holding her son like he was the prize, like he was her diploma. Ice and Sarah stood to one side of Cora and Nickie and Maverick stood to the other with Penny, who had Amelia in her arms, standing right beside him.

It was truly a moment of triumph for Cora—graduating college even though she had a baby on her own at eighteen. Maverick was so proud of her and it was all written in the tear tracks that were drying on his cheeks in the photo. He had been so worried that Cora would get stuck—through no fault of her own—and never go to college or any kind of training.

But she did it. Despite the odds, she did it.

Glancing over at where Rooster was preparing to take off for the training exercises, Maverick forced himself to steel his emotions. He wouldn’t let Bradley’s undoubtedly petty drama from close to seventeen years ago to influence him now. He had a mission and he had six aviators that he had to train to complete that mission.

But that reminder still stuck with him—if Bradley was any other guy on the planet, Maverick never would have shown him mercy. Not for what he did to Cora and Nickie.

~~~~~

Rooster sat out on the tarmac for another good fifteen minutes after Phoenix gave up on trying to snap some sense into him. He told her that he was fine, that he had it handled. And even though she didn’t look like she believed him, Phoenix left him be.

That was why their friendship worked so well—they knew when to leave each other alone. And right now, Rooster really needed to be alone with his thoughts.

He wasn’t expecting Maverick to be in Miramar. Not like this, at the very least. There was always a chance that Maverick would be in Miramar to see or be around Cora. Rooster had partially prepared himself to run into Maverick in the grocery store or on a drive around town. But on base? As his instructor? Rooster wasn’t prepared for that.

And what the hell was Maverick doing as an instructor at Top Gun? Didn’t they learn their lesson the first time around? It had Ice written all over it. Rooster would have bet every penny to his name that Ice was somehow involved in this scheme.

Focusing on his breathing to calm down, Rooster eventually picked himself up off the tarmac and started trudging for the locker room. It was empty when he arrived and Rooster wasted no time in stripping down, showering, and changing out of his flight suit. Pulling out his wallet, Rooster slowly unfolded it and reached into one of the card holder slips.

He pulled out a simple piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped from a larger page. It came from one of the letters that Cora sent him years ago. Maybe seven or so after he left. He hadn’t kept the rest of the letter, which was just Cora begging for him to forgive Maverick and come back to Miramar, but he kept the end of it because of two important pieces of information.

Cora’s phone number. And her address.

Now, Rooster wasn’t sure if either of them were still accurate. She could have changed her number—he did, after all—and she could have easily moved. And his attempts to do research on Google didn’t really get him anywhere with either her address or her number.

Rooster wanted to try and verify them before he reached out, knowing that he had about half of a first impression to probably convince Cora to talk to him. And he was pretty sure that showing up at the wrong house or calling the wrong number wasn’t going to do him any favors.

Picking up his keys, Rooster closed the door to his locker and headed out of the locker room.

~~~~~

Nickie walked out of school late, having stayed late to try and get his pre-calc grade up a little bit more. Looking around for his mom’s car, Nickie paused when he heard the familiar hum of the Kawasaki. The mischievous smile that he definitely inherited from his grandfather quickly tugged at Nickie’s lips as he watched the Kawasaki roll around the corner.

Maverick waved to Nickie and slowly came to a stop in front of him. Nickie walked quickly over to his grandfather, ignoring some of the incredulous looks thrown in his direction. Maverick set up the kickstand and slipped off the Kawasaki, turning to greet his grandson.

“I thought that Mom was supposed to pick me up,” Nickie stated, though he wasn’t complaining.

“Apparently, they’re running late over at the office with all their appointments,” Maverick replied, taking Nickie’s backpack from him. “And I had the time.”

“Does Mom know that you’re picking me up on your bike?” Nickie asked as Maverick securely strapped down his backpack.

“Well, she never specified which vehicle I had to pick you pu in,” Maverick returned jokingly. Tugging on the straps that secured Nickie’s backpack to test them, Maverick turned back to his grandson. “But you know the rule.”

Maverick held out a helmet to Nickie, who quickly took it and put it on without complaint. His mom ingrained in him from a very young age to never get on a bike without a helmet. Unfortunately, in Cora’s opinion, that teaching didn’t seem to move up generations. Maverick climbed on first and Nickie climbed on after him. Nickie held tight to and turned to see several students staring at him.

“Hey,” Nickie called, waving at them.

“Don’t even think about it,” Maverick warned his grandson, noting the girls that Nickie was waving at.

Maverick started the engine and shook his head before starting off down the road. Nickie clung to his grandfather as they drove along far slower than Maverick would go if he was by himself. It didn’t take long, however, for Nickie to realize that they weren’t heading home.

“Where are we going?” Nickie called over the wind.

“I need to make a pit stop on my way home,” Maverick yelled back to Nickie.

“Where?”

“The Hard Deck. I owe Penny some money!”

“I think that you owe her more than that!” Nickie shouted, causing Maverick to frown.

“Have you been listening in on your mom’s conversations again?”

“What!? I can’t hear you!?” Nickie yelled loudly, causing Maverick to chuckle and shake his head.

“Good answer.”

A quick ten minutes later and the two Mitchells pulled up to the Hard Deck. Maverick parked towards the front door and turned off the Kawasaki. Nickie got off first and pulled his helmet off. Running a hand through his short curls, which caused Maverick’s gut to tighten after watching Rooster do something similar that morning, Nickie moved to undo his backpack from the straps.

Maverick led the way inside the Hard Deck, which was left unlocked. Nickie broke off from his grandfather’s side to hang up his helmet on one of the hooks by the door. Maverick headed into the main area of the bar and smiled when he spotted the guard dog on duty.

“Hey, Theo,” Maverick called, bending down to greet the lazy dog. “You’ve gotten big.”

“Hey, Mav,” Amelia greeted him, causing Maverick to slowly stand up.

“Amelia?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses in disbelief.

“I know, I got big,” Amelia replied, already turning back to her homework.

“Hey, Amelia,” Nickie returned, walking into the room a couple seconds after his grandfather.

Amelia glanced up with surprise at the sound of Nickie’s voice. Nickie was a year ahead of Amelia and he was one of the first kids around her age that she met when her and her mom moved to Miramar from Hawaii after her parent’s divorce. Cora always told Nickie to look out for Amelia and that seemed to continue even though they were both nearing the end of high school.

“Hey, Nickie,” Amelia responded in a softer tone than she used with Mav. But as Maverick walked around the bar, Amelia quickly focused on her homework again. “Bar opens at five.”

“No, I just came by to pay off a debt I—”

“—Mom!” Amelia immediately called, causing Nickie to hide a smirk behind his hand.

“Hey, how’s your dad?” Maverick asked, trying to fill the silence.

Nickie, almost as a reflex, reached out and smacked his grandfather on the arm, earning an incredulous look from Maverick. When Nickie shot him a look that screamed ‘shut up before you get hurt,’ Maverick stared at his grandson with a confused expression.

“What?”

“With his wife. In Hawaii. Mom!” Amelia yelled louder than before, causing Nickie to wince, his point proven. Penny walked through the door to the back of the bar at her daughter’s annoyed call, causing Maverick and Nickie to turn around. “Mav says he owes you money.”

Maverick held out a wad of cash to Penny, who immediately tried to refuse it. And Nickie quietly wondered how his grandfather wracked up such a tab on a single night. He wouldn’t have disrespected a lady and certainly not the Navy. So, he must have left his phone, which Nickie set up for him, on the bar. Like Nickie’s mom warned him not to do.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Penny insisted, but Maverick held the money out to her again.

“I insist.”

Nickie shared a look with Amelia, who stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes as Penny instantly softened and took the wad of cash from Maverick. Nickie glanced up and around at the photos and memorabilia hung up round the bar, fighting a knowing smirk.

“Thank you, Captain. Consider your tab closed,” Penny stated, heading around the bar to deposit the money in the till.

“Captain? Still?” Amelia asked Maverick.

“She’s got you there,” Nickie replied, turning to his grandfather.

“A highly decorated captain,” Maverick stated, knowing that Amelia and Nickie were just teasing him.

“Finish up,” Penny told her daughter, leaning on the bar top and tapping the top of Amelia’s book. “We have to get the boat to the yard.”

“I can’t go,” Amelia replied, causing Penny to frown.

“What do you mean you can’t go?”

“Test tomorrow. I have to study. They only told us today,” Amelia explained, causing Penny to raise an eyebrow at her daughter.

“Mr. Lissette’s class?” Nickie guessed, causing Amelia to turn to him.

“How’d you know?”

“Because he did that at least fourteen times last year when I took his class,” Nickie replied, corroborating Amelia’s story to her mom.

“Well, I can’t sail her alone,” Penny continued, turning back to her daughter.

“Just use the engine.”

“Why’re we taking her to the yard?” Penny asked, shooting her daughter a look.

“To fix the engine,” the two Benjamin women recited together.

“We can help,” Maverick offered, volunteering himself and Nickie for service.

“But he’s grounded,” Penny stated, pointing over at Nickie, who winced in reply.

“You know about the ticket?” he asked, cracking his eyes open slowly.

“There’s not much in this town that I don’t know about,” Penny replied, straightening up.

“And your mom told her,” Amelia explained, causing Nickie to sigh.

“I’m never going to live that down,” Nickie whined, rubbing his face.

“Well, considering your driving instructor,” Penny drawled, glancing over at Maverick, “I’m surprised that it wasn’t worse.”

“I’m a great driver,” Maverick insisted, causing Penny to scoff teasingly.

“Mom can just pick me up after work,” Nickie offered, causing Maverick and Penny to turn to him. “And I know that she wouldn’t mind taking Amelia home.”

“Alright,” Penny stated, tapping her fingers on the bar top. Walking around the bar, Penny grabbed her keys and turned to Maverick. “Get moving, Sailor.” As Maverick turned to lead the way out of the bar, Penny turned to Nickie and Amelia. “Jimmy is in charge. And don’t forget Theo.”

“Mom, we’ll be fine,” Amelia insisted, already looking back down at her homework.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do,” Maverick directed at Nickie. “And definitely don’t do anything that I would do.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Nickie replied, mock-saluting his grandfather.

Penny and Maverick headed out of the bar as Nickie walked over to where Amelia was sitting. Setting his bag down on the bar, Nickie pulled out his pre-calc textbook and started on the problems that he left off on with his math teacher just a few minutes earlier.

“You stayed late again?” Amelia asked, glancing over at his homework.

“Trying to get my grade up,” Nickie explained, copying one of the problems from the textbook.

“Is your mom grounding you for that too?”

“No, just the ticket,” Nickie sighed, turning to Amelia. “Does everyone know about it?”

“Well, your mom called my mom about the whole thing last night. She was wondering if a month was too harsh of a punishment, since you already paid it off yourself.”

“And?” Nickie pressed, hope building in his chest.

“My mom said that it was fair.”

Nickie let out a groan and slumped against the bar top, causing Amelia to laugh. Shifting in her seat, she turned to face Nickie fully on the bar stool and poked him on the shoulder.

“It’s your own fault. Everyone knows that cops like to hang out under that underpass.”

“I forgot,” Nickie sighed, shaking his head at himself. Forgetting his pre-calc homework for a moment, he turned to face Amelia. “My mom freaked out.”

“She’s probably worried that you’re turning into Mav,” Amelia stated before quickly trying to retract her sentence. Suddenly sheepishly, she stammered out, “I didn’t mean it like that, just that—”

“—No, no, I get it,” Nickie assured her, knowing that she meant no harm. Turning back to his textbook, Nickie picked up his pencil and started writing again. “And, hey, you have to protect your mom. I get it. Really, I do.”

“Is your mom still going out with that Neil guy?” Amelia asked curiously, causing Nickie to snort.

“No. I don’t know why she was with him in the first place.”

“My mom seemed to like him.”

“Your mom’s just nice,” Nickie brushed off, scribbling away at his homework. “He was boring as hell. And my mom might freak out about me or my granddad doing dangerous or stupid stuff, but she would have died of boredom if she stayed in that relationship.”

“Have you ever liked one of your mom’s boyfriends?”

“Of the three that I’ve met? Hard no,” Nickie stated, shaking his head. “Have you?”

Amelia glanced in the direction that Maverick and Penny left in, which caused Nickie to straighten up a bit more. Setting down his pencil, he turned to face Amelia.

“I’m sorry that he brought up your dad.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Amelia lied, waving her hand to the side, as if to dismiss Nickie’s concern. “Besides, Mav was there for more of my birthdays than my actual dad. I counted. So, I guess he’s entitled to a slip up.”

“Yeah, he does seem to be filling in a lot,” Nickie murmured, mostly to himself.

Amelia turned to Nickie with a confused expression when the door the Hard Deck opened again. Nickie instantly picked his head up and stood up from his chair when he spotted a stranger entering the bar. Theo had moved to sit in the sun, but he rolled over to stare at the new arrival.

Rooster slowly stepped into the Hard Deck, glancing around for Penny, when he spotted two teenagers sitting at the bar. Nickie walked around the bar a bit, eyeing up Rooster as if he was trying to discern the level of threat that Rooster posed to him and Amelia. Rooster stopped at the front of the bar, noticing Nickie’s defensive posture.

“Can we help you?” Nickie asked calmly, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Bar opens at five.”

“No, I know. I was just wondering if Penny was around,” Rooster explained quietly.

Rooster eyed Nickie curiously, feeling like he had seen the teenager somewhere before. Hell, Nickie was probably just a local kid that Rooster had seen on the boardwalk the day before. But Rooster wasn’t even convinced with his own explanation. Not really. There was just something that was scratching at the back of his head about the teenager.

Nickie viewed Rooster as nothing other than an intruder. Amelia clearly didn’t recognize Rooster, so he obviously wasn’t a close friend of Penny’s. Theo wasn’t reacting harshly to Rooster, but Nickie was also pretty sure that Theo only barked after the fact. And, well, his mom stuck it in his head very early on to always be aware of his surroundings and the people occupying them.

Amelia froze a bit in her seat, glancing in between Nickie and Rooster, and noting the similarities in their appearances. They had the same nose. And the same chin. Rooster was taller and far more built than the teenager, but Amelia didn’t doubt that Nickie would get there eventually. Their hair looked to be a similar texture. And hell, were their eyebrows also that similar?

“She’s not here. Jimmy’s here, though, if you have some kind of . . .” Nickie eyed Rooster suspiciously before meeting his gaze again, “. . . business question.”

“No, no,” Rooster replied, already backing away.

Well, there went that plan. Not that he was expecting Penny to give him a concrete answer. Not without getting to dump a drink on top of his head first, at least, since Rooster knew that Penny and Cora were still close to this day.

“Sorry to bother you.”

Nickie nodded firmly and watched as Rooster left the Hard Deck. Slowly sliding towards the door, Nickie subtly locked it before walking around to watch Rooster drive off. It took some time because Rooster kept staring back at the Hard Deck with an odd expression, he eventually hopped back into the Bronco and took off, heading in the direction of the naval base.

“Who the hell was that?” Nickie asked Amelia, who stared at him with a bit of disbelief.

“What?” she questioned, blinking rapidly.

“Did you know who that was?”

You mean the guy who looks freakishly similar to you?

That was what Amelia wanted to say. But then she remembered what her mom told her about Mitchell boys. Their heart was always in the right place. Their brain on the other hand . . . sometimes it wasn’t exactly where it should be.

“No, I don’t,” Amelia settled on, glancing between Nickie and the window again. “Do you?”

“No,” Nickie replied, as if it was obvious. “And who the hell has a mustache anymore?”

~~~~~

“Bye, Amelia!” Cora called, waving to the Benjamin girl as she hopped out of the car.

“Bye, Cora. Thanks for the ride!”

“Any time!”

Amelia shut the door behind her and grabbed Theo’s leash before heading inside her house. Cora waited until Amelia was safely inside with the door shut behind her before pulling away from the curb. It was a short drive between the Benjamins and the Mitchells even with the afternoon traffic.

“How was pre-calc extra help?” Cora questioned, turning onto the main road.

“It helped. He’s bumping up my grade on the last test, so I’m getting closer to an A.”

“And while I’m very happy about how seriously you’re taking your studies, don’t worry if you don’t get an A. Everyone says that pre-calc is difficult,” Cora assured her son, keeping her eyes trained on the road in front of her.

“I know, Mom. I just want to do well for my college apps,” Nickie stated, glancing out the window.

“Speaking of which, you need to give me a list of colleges that you want to see during Spring Break so that I can take the time off work and we can sign up for tours,” Cora replied, causing Nickie to subtly sink into his seat. “Especially if you wanted to see ones farther away.”

“Like the East Coast?” Nickie approached the subject, causing Cora to pause for a moment.

“If you want,” Cora replied softly, glancing over at Nickie. “What schools did you have in mind?”

“Nothing specific,” Nickie lied, staring out the window again. “There’s just a lot of good schools out there, you know.”

“Okay,” Cora trailed off, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Well, you still have time. Just something to think about once in a while.”

“Yeah . . .” Nickie agreed, looking forward. Cora continued to drive down the road as Nickie slowly turned to look at his mom. “Sean asked me about the Surf Team again.”

“What about it?”

“Just about try outs are and everything,” Nickie stated, causing Cora to nod slowly. “Mom.”

“What?” Cora asked, shooting her son a look.

“You’re doing that thing where you pretend like you agree with me but you actually don’t but you don’t want to say it because you don’t want to play the bad guy all day,” Nickie complained, causing Cora to sigh. Slowly coming to a halt at the next light, Cora turned to Nickie as he continued. “Why can’t I join the surf team? You put me in surf lessons, remember?”

“I remember, Nickie,” Cora sighed, fiddling with her fingers.

“So, why do you always pull that face when I talk about the surf team?” Nickie asked as the light flashed green in front of them.

“I don’t pull a face,” Cora huffed, earning a groan from her son. “It’s just . . . Nickie, why are you so obsessed with being in the water lately? I mean, when you quit basketball that was one thing because—and I love you and support you, sweetie—but you weren’t the best at that.”

“Mom.”

“I mean, you had the height but none of the hand to eye coordination,” Cora continued, causing Nickie to pout and slump in his seat. “And soccer, well, you always seemed to just do that because your friends were doing it.”

“So?”

“But baseball?” Cora emphasized, turning to her son with a concerned expression. “Nickie, you love baseball. It’s been your favorite sport for forever.”

“I can like new things,” Nickie defended himself.

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t, but . . .” Cora pulled down a side street and came to a slow stop at the stop sign a couple hundred feet down the road. Glancing over at her son for a moment, Cora asked, “Is there something that you’re not telling me?”

“Mom, I just want to surf because I’m good at it,” Nickie half-lied, half-told the truth. He glanced out the window as Cora continued to drive them home. “I just don’t want to sit on JV as a junior.”

“There’s no shame in that. They only need so many catchers on varsity.”

“I know, but . . .” Nickie trailed off, trying to come up with something to appease his mom’s concern, “. . . but what if I can get a scholarship for it? Or for swimming or water polo and surfing helps me stay in shape for that?”

“Why are you worried about a scholarship?” Cora asked before growing more serious. Pulling into their driveway, Cora parked the car before turning to her son. “Nickie, you know how I feel about you worrying about money.”

“I know, Mom,” Nickie replied softly, guilt eating away at his gut.

“You just focus on being a kid for now, okay?” Cora stated, grabbing her son’s shoulder gently. “Please?”

“I will, Mom.”

“Good. You hungry?” Cora asked, reaching for her purse.

“Yeah,” Nickie murmured out, trying to not suffocate himself from how bad he felt for lying straight through his teeth to his mom.

“Alright. I think I’ll just make something simple tonight,” Cora stated, causing Nickie to nod.

They walked inside the house together and Nickie headed to his room. Setting his bag on the ground, Nickie squatted down and let out a breath. Slumping slightly, Nickie unzipped his backpack and pulled out his science textbook. He flipped through a few pages before pulling out a pamphlet that he got at lunch with ‘NAVY’ printed at the top of it.

If and when he ever told his mom the school that he wanted to attend . . . Nickie was starting to worry that it was going to kill her.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

A.N. A special thank you to everyone who read and either commented or reblogged the first part! It's the most actual interaction I've had on a fic in a long time and it really motivated me to churn Part 2 out!

[Also, I forgot to put a note at the end of Part 1 about tagging, so I just tagged the peeps that asked, but if you want to be tagged in Part 3, just reply or reblog with a comment, but please have your age in your bio/pinned post or I won't tag you. Thanks again!]

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus

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sequinsmile-x · 1 month

Text

This is Our Place, We Make The Rules - Chapter 11 - Exercise

A collection of non-sequential mini-fics and one-shots of Hotchniss and their life at home.

Chapter 11 - Exercise

-x-

Hi besties,

There is a little mini fic full of fluff and these two idiots being adorable and very in love with each other.

Happy Monday, I hope you all got through it <3

Just a quick reminder that the chapters in this are non-sequential.

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 1.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she comes to a stop on the sidewalk, one hand on her back and the other on her bump as she tries to catch her breath.

“Jesus Christ,” she huffs out, leaning against the wall surrounding their house, barely a few steps away from the gate.

“Are you feeling something already?” Aaron asks, standing next to her, his hand on her back as he rubs circles on it and she groans, shaking her head as she stands up straight, groaning as all of her weight shifts back onto her feet. She’s wearing a large sweatshirt that once belonged to him, the Harvard Logo stretched over her belly, and a pair of maternity leggings. She looked beautiful, like she always did, but he knew if he told her she wouldn’t believe him. He looks her up and down for any signs of pain, any indication that her labour has started, but all he sees is the usual discomfort that had settled into her features over the last few weeks.

“No,” she grumbles, “He’s going to stay in there forever.”

He clears his throat to cover a smile and grabs her hand, tugging on her arm slightly until she starts to move, and they walk slowly away from their house. She was 41 weeks pregnant and miserable. She was at most two days away from giving birth, her induction already booked in, but she was desperate to go into labour naturally.

They’d tried all the home remedies the doctor had suggested.

Spicy food. Raspberry leaf tea. Sex. A lot of sex. But their son was determined to stay put, happily kicking away in Emily’s belly as she slowly lost her mind because of how uncomfortable she was, her body stretched almost to its limit. Aaron was the one to suggest the walk, the last of her doctor’s suggestions, and even though she’d complained heartily she had eventually agreed. He’d tied her shoes for her and then led her out of the house, Jack happily doing his homework with Jessica in the dining room, and Aaron hoped beyond everything that this would help.

“He’s just comfortable in there, that’s all,” Aaron says, kissing the top of her head as they continue to slowly walk down their street, “He’ll be here soon.”

She rolls her eyes, “He’d better be,” she says, looking down at her bump and directing the rest of her sentence to her unborn son, “Or he’s in big trouble.”

He chuckles and places his hand on her stomach, “Don’t pay any attention, Benny. Mommy is entirely incapable of being mad at us Hotchners for long.”

She looks at him sharply, her eyebrow raised, “Don’t test me,” she says, and then she squeezes his hand, indicating that she needs to stop again. She blows out an unsteady breath, “I used to chase unsubs. Whilst wearing heels and aiming a gun,” she complains, smiling gratefully when he places his hands on her shoulders to steady her, “Now I can barely walk a few feet without getting breathless.”

“To be fair sweetheart,” he says, pulling the bottle of water he’d snuck into his jacket pocket out and taking off the lid before he passes it to her, “You never used to have, how did you put it earlier, ‘a baby with my giant feet’ pressed against your lungs.”

She scrunches her nose up at him as she sips her water and then passes him the bottle back, “He’s huge,” she says, an edge of affection to her voice despite her complaining, “You’re huge. It’s all your fault.”

He knows it’s not a good idea to point out she wasn’t exactly short herself so he kisses her forehead and takes a step backwards, “Why don’t we try curb stepping?”

She glares at him, “Curb stepping?”

“You know, one foot on the street, one on the sidewalk,” he says, demonstrating it for her for a few paces before he turns to look at her, “It supposedly helps.”

“According to who?” She asks defiantly, her arms crossed and settled on top of her bump. He walks back towards her and wraps his arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple, smiling to himself as she sinks into him seemingly against her own accord, as if she was drawn to him by instinct.

“The internet,” he replies simply, kissing her temple again before he pulls back to look at her, “I looked it up.”

She sighs, knowing she’s being petulant but she can’t help it, discomfort and irritation shifting under her skin just like her son, and she looks at the edge of the curb before she looks back up at her husband, “Are you sure we can’t just have sex again?”

Aaron laughs and kisses her, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place, “When we get home sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “But let's try this first, okay?”

She huffs out a breath, her hair moving as she does so, but then she nods, “Fine. But sex later?”

He presses his lips together to suppress another smile and he nods, “I promise.”

Emily squeezes his hand and then steps towards the edge of the sidewalk, taking a moment before she drops one foot down to the street. She grunts at the difference in her gait she she slowly walks, one foot on the sidewalk, the other on the road. She swears that she feels her baby’s head shift further down into her pelvis, and she curses her husband under her breath as she goes.

“Son of a bitch is lucky he’s hot.”

“I heard that,” he says, walking alongside her, and she turns to glare at him, grunting again as she takes another step.

“Good. I meant you to,” she replies, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face as he looks at her in fake indignation. She goes as far as she can, her lower back starting to ache, and then she stops, “Okay, I think I’m done.”

He offers her his hand and helps her back onto the sidewalk, “Want to head back home?”

She nods, squeezing his hand, “In a second,” she says as she looks up, a whine escaping her as she sees how close they still are to the house, Sergio still visible in his bed in the living room window, “You have got to be kidding me? We didn’t even make it down the block?”

He lifts their joint hands and kisses her knuckles, “Still counts as exercise, baby.”

She looks up at him, smirking as she flutters her eyelashes, “You know what else counts as exercise-”

He cuts her off with his laugh and kisses her knuckles again, “You’re insatiable.”

She hums as they start slowly walking back towards the house, “I’m desperate to get our son out of me,” she says, sighing sadly, “I just want to meet him, Aaron. I want to hold him and know his face.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, “I know, Em. Me too. And we will, very soon,” she says, and she comes to a stop, and for a moment he thinks she’s just taking another breather, but then he spots the wet patch on the ground. He places his hand over his jacket pocket, “Damn it, I think the water bottle…”

He drifts off when he feels his jacket is dry and she chuckles, her hands both on her belly as she looks up at him.

“My water just broke,” she says, grimacing as she feels the dampness on her legs, the material of her leggings sticking to her, “It feels so fucking gross.”

“Okay,” he says, snapping into action, acting a lot calmer than he feels as he starts to lead her back towards the house again, their pace slightly faster, “We’ll get you changed and then we’ll get your bag and head to the hospital.”

She nods, “Yes,” she says, breathing out as reality starts to sink in once they are back in their driveway, “We’re going to meet our son.”

He turns to face her and he kisses her, aware that their lives are about to change for the better, “Let’s go have a baby,” he says, stamping his lips against hers again before he helps her up the stairs to the porch, “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” She asks, smiling softly at him as he lets her into the house, a dull ache starting to build in her back.

“The curb stepping worked.”

-x-

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magalidragon · 2 years

Note

For the mini fic game:

34. things you whispered in my ear - Jonerys

Only if you’re inspired, of course!😘

OF COURSE BBY! Anything for you!

Oscars inspired me as awards shows usually do when I comes to our favorite modern Jonerys AU-- all the world's a stage! Enjoy!

34. Things you whispered in my ear

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Aye, it's date night."

Dany chuckled, her hand sneaking across the SUV console to squeeze his hand. They really didn't need to do this, but Viserys and Missy had suggested she'd accept one of the hundreds of Oscar party invitations, since she'd been invited to present that year. She only agreed to present because she had meetings in LA at the same time. She missed her children so much; they'd stayed behind in Scotland with Viserys watching them, so gods knew what was going to happen there.

It wasn't quite their scene, this whole Hollywood thing, and they'd culvated something of a mystique. Former child actress turned major success-- everyoen seemed to forget the time when they blacklisted her-- and her curmudgeon hermit writer husband. Sure, it was the scandal surrounding their movie and them that drew people to their story. It had a happy ending, which everyone loved. They just didn't mix and mingle with everyone else.

She climbed out of the SUV after Jon, when they came to a stop, her hand still enclosed in his, if only to steady herself on her six-inch platforms. It baffled him that she'd had to change from her Oscars presenter gown-- a beautiful crimson tulle confection-- into her 'party' dress, which was shorter and less formal. To show off her barely there pregnancy belly-- with baby four she was popping eary-- she'd decided on a black sheath with a see-through bodice, a black panel bra keeping the 'assets' covered. It was long-sleeved with sparkling black cuffs and matching high neckline. It was comfortable and that's all she wanted at four months pregnant.

Missy led them ahead, always on alert, guiding them through the line for the photos. "You don't have to do this, I can go alone," she reminded Jon again. Sometimes he agreed to things she knew he was only doing for her, despite how uncomfortable they made him.

"Dany, I'm good," he chuckled. He smiled briefly and kissed her cheek, squeezing her hand again. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

"Only several times this evening."

"But not this dress."

She grinned up at him, reaching to adjust his shirt collar, where it had become creased under his jacket. Ellaria had outfitted them both, choosing to put Jon in a black suit with a black shirt, simple and classic, tying it to hers via the buttons which sparkled and the slight hint of it under his jacket lapels. He’d pulled his hair away from his face in a knot instead of letting it go free and the look had her wondering how long they had to put in an appearance at this damn party before she could get him home.

Missy gestured. “This way, make sure to step on the Vanity Fair symbol and in front of the marquee before you enter. Then I’ll find out when we do the photo booth portraits.”

“Photo booth?” Jon asked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Every year they do portraits of the party attendees. This year they’re in an old fashioned photo booth.”

“Sounds fun!” Dany knew the kids would like that, especially if they did some silly shots. She tugged Jon’s hand after her. “Come on, let’s go.”

“How are your feet?”

“They’re fine Jon.”

“I’ll never understand how you walk in those shoes.”

She ignored him, walking along the carpet and pausing where Missy pointed. They posed together, Jon’s arm around her hip and hers around his. They never dropped hands and she beamed, her silver braids twisted away from her face and hanging down her back in a single queue. It was warm, typical Los Angeles, and despite her preference for heat, she longed for the cold damp Scottish Highlands with her babies.

Turning to gaze over her shoulder, she put on her ‘come hither’ look, her arm around Jon’s neck and hand over his shoulder, at the same time he dropped his hand down to below her waist to her hip. She didn’t know how the image would come out, but judging from Missy’s eager squeak nearby, it would go over well.

Jon leaned in and whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling, and she pressed her palm against his heart, tilting towards him, listening intently. “I wanted to be here with you because I know how much you do like this and I want to support you. I love you. This is all for you. I’ll do anything for you Dany. I love you, you deserve this. All of this. You’re amazing.”

And he kissed beneath her ear, letting his fingers snake down her arm and to her fingers, letting go and stepping aside, a smile ghosting on his lips, his eyes crinkling, gesturing towards her.

The cameras, which had been consistently flashing as they walked the carpet, went off in a flashing frenzy, capturing Jon stepping out to allow her the spotlight. She grinned wide at him and lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers to him and then turned, placing her hand on her hip and posing as she was supposed to on the huge Vanity Fair symbol.

She turned, so they could get all sides of her dress, and held her hands over her bump, which garnered more attention. After a few minutes, she reached towards Jon and he came to her side again, taking her hand, and they walked on ahead towards the party’s entrance.

For some reason tears pricked her eyes and she sniffed, turning hard on the tips of her toes, hugging him hard. She hiccuped. “I love you.”

“Are you crying?” he asked, concerned, pulling back to brush at her cheeks. “Dany?”

“Hormones. It’s fine.” She kissed him quickly. “Come on, I think I see Margaery.”

They didn’t spend too long at the party and left early. The following morning, after picking up her phone to call the children back in Scotland, she opened up the texts from Missy that were taking up most of the notification screen. “Oh wow,” she whispered, grinning at the headline on the particular blog post that Missy had screenshotted and sent.

Jonerys For Life! Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow Show Us What True Love Really Looks Like at the Vanity Fair Oscars Party

She smiled wide, flicking through a few of the photos and article titles, before closing it down and bringing the phone to the living room where Jon was reading the paper. She crawled into his lap and kissed his jaw, whispering into his ear: “I love you.”

He idly kissed her back, saying nothing and turning the page as she set about starting the call.

Things You Said Prompts

#jonerys #Jonerys au #my fics #things you said prompts #all the world's a stage universe

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what-a-flammable-heart · 3 years

Text

MASTER LIST

My fics are strictly 18+ reading, and are all housed on AO3. Not all fics contain smut, but for the safety of everyone, please be aware.

Fics with smut in 1 or more chapters will be marked with a (*).

If you’re interested in being tagged on any/all fics, please send me a message and let me know!

I typically write for Tom Hiddleston and characters he’s played, as well as Chris Evan, Seb Stan and associated characters. I dabble in Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington things as well.

If you send in requests I might just write them, but please give me time to do them justice.

💜

TOM HIDDLESTON

The Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To Is When I’m Alone With You*—Updates Sundays

(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER) Father Thomas Hiddleston is a good priest, satisfied with the life he'd chosen more than ten years ago. His faith wavers but there's little else in his life to keep him from God's work. Until his childhood sweetheart walks back into his church after more than ten years of staying away. You're engaged to be married, unaware that Tom is now a priest at the church you intend to be married in. When you realize, it's a struggle to keep all of your long held feelings for him at bay. Will you go through with your plans to marry your fiancé, or will you give in to the longing you've felt for Tom all these years? And in doing so, will you pull Tom down into sin with you? Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) ) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) Playlist & Moodboard

Drunk & In Love*—One Shot

(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER) Your friends convince you to stay for one drink after work, and when you see actor Tom Hiddleston looking uncomfortable with another woman, you think saving him will be the perfect exit strategy. Instead, you end up helping him escape a blind date.

B R E A T H E—One Shot

(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER)

Tom hates the dentist, so when he breaks a tooth and needs to visit the oral surgeon, it's terrifying. But as his nurse, you attend to him surprisingly gently.

LOKI

Careful Creatures

(LOKI X MATT MURDOCK) A confused Loki seeks out his friend Matt for some comfortable silence. He gets slightly more than he bargained for.

Technicolor Dreams

(LOKI X READER) The reader invades Loki's dreams literally and figuratively.

Cities to Ash*—One Shot

(LOKI X PREGNANT READER)

You’re in the last few months of your pregnancy, and doubt fills your mind—how could Loki want someone so big, who’s constantly worn out just from living? Canceled dinner plans spur a conversation about these feelings, where Loki makes it clear that nothing could ever make him stop wanting you.

Your Heart Is Like Glass*—Coming Soon

(LOKI X READER) You are a whore, bound to the Shining Pearl since the time of your birth. But a year ago a strangely handsome man with money to spare started seeking your attentions. You cannot seem to shake your affections for him, though you know his presence is always temporary. It's temporary because he’s a prince, and when he marries he’ll no longer be able to dabble with his favorite whore. But his favorite whore has become more than that to him, and Loki desperately seeks a solution to both of your supposed prisons. Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard

ADAM (OLLA)

What You Could Have Meant To Me*—Coming Soon

(ADAM X READER) 500 years and life has not lost its light, though it dims from time to time. Vampires as a touchy breed and you avoid them for the most part, save for your old friend Adam. You meet from time to time in foreign cities, but when an exhibit at the Met reveals old letters written but never sent, you’re both drawn together again. You’ve kept your feelings for him secret for a long time. Will he be able to draw them out, or will you spend the rest of your lives never knowing the truth? Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard

Your House, My House*—In Progress Series

(ADAM X READER) It’s been six months since you and your boyfriend Adam broke up, but you’ve moved into his house after your roommates decided to move home. It’s an awkward situation, at least that's what everyone on the outside sees. But despite being broken up, Adam is still your best friend and the one person who knows you well enough to push you when you need it most. Can you two cohabitate as friends, or will the pressure of being so close change things forever?

Parts: (1)

Playlist & Moodboard

TOM HIDDLESTON CROSSOVERS

I’ll Love You In Every Life We Live*—In Progress

(CAIUS MARTIUS CORIOLANUS, ADAM, PRINCE HAL/KING HENRY V, WILLIAM BUXTON, JAMES NICHOLLS, JAMES CONRAD, JONATHAN PINE & LOKI X READER) Soulmates who meet in every life they live, they know without really knowing, that they belong together. Whether in the heat of battle or kneeling before the king; separated by time and death and other people, they always find one another. Love is the one thing they know for certain, even if they cannot be together, even if they are only together for the briefest moment. There will always be another life in which they will meet. Chapters: (Ch. 1) Playlist & Moodboard

BILLY HARGROVE

‘Cause In The Dark There Are No Strangers*—In Progress

(BILLY HARGROVE X STEVE HARRINGTON) Steve and Billy like to fight—they hate each other, except they don't, not really. A chance encounter one rainy night could change everything, but that doesn't mean they're not still the same people. Love can lift you up, but it can also tear you apart. Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5) (Ch. 6) Playlist & Moodboard

There’s Something Inside You; It’s Hard To Explain*—In Progress

(BILLY HARGROVE X READER) Billy is a broken boy, all sharp edges and bloody knuckles. You are a quiet girl, too soft for your own good. You hate each other. (They don't hate each other.) He's so soft for her, has been since high school and after a slightly drunken night reveals some secrets neither one of them ever thought would see the light of day, they have to deal with what comes next. Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) Playlist & Moodboard

STEVE ROGERS

& At Once I Knew, I Was Not Magnificent*—Coming Soon

(STEVE ROGERS X JAMES BUCHANAN (BUCKY) BARNES) Gurnsey is a German occupied British isle, one that hides a dark secret. After crashing his plane and losing his copilot, James Barnes is captured and forced into labor; the same can be said for Steve Rogers, a lost British naval lieutenant. They find themselves in dire straights, the only thing holding them together—each other. Can they survive, escape even? Or will they die at the hands of their enemies? Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always!

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick x you

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mmsapataoltda · 3 years

Text

Heartbeat (PART 1)

Lin Beifong woke up one day and heard something she didn't expect.

part 2

fic under the cut

When Toph Beifong retired from the Police Force, she left everything behind. Including the city she had helped found, the house where she raised her daughters... and Lin.

Lin, for her part, decided to keep the house intact. She had moved from there after Su moved in with her grandparents. She rented an apartment near the industrial park. The place was small, but it was all her Lieutenant's salary allowed her to pay. Three years had passed and she had succeeded in silencing any and all rumors about her two very apparent new scars, making use of her characteristic frown and brief excuse of "equipment malfunction". After the incident she used a good part of her little free time to design a new armor that had a scroll system with locks that would prevent anyone else from getting hurt. Three years had passed and Lin hadn't heard a word from Suyin or Toph Beifong.

Lin was awakened by a lazy kiss on her neck and Tenzin's beard against her skin, she murmured in satisfaction as Tenzin began to trail kisses down to her shoulders and collarbone, but then he pulled away, making Lin miss the heat of his body and snort frustrated. The airbender picked up his pants from the floor and began to put them on.

- You can't wake me up like that and just walk away. - she complained raising her torso and leaning on her elbows

- Sorry Lin, I'm already late, my Father is waiting for me for the first classes. - He put his arms through his shirt - But I'll see you at lunch, right?

Lin muttered an affirmation as she rolled over on her bed to lie on her stomach. Tenzin admired her bare back for a few seconds before approaching her and kissing between her shoulder blade goodbye, finishing pulling on his shirt as he walked away.

- See you at lunch then. - Lin grunted in response waving her hand

Lin had taken the night shift the day before, which meant she didn't have to be at the Police Station until nine, guaranteeing her a few more hours in bed. After tossing around in the sheets for a few more minutes she decided to get up, she could never go back to sleep once awake. She sat up and stretched her arms, feeling her body shudder as she stretched. She urned on her side, planted her feet on the floor and stood up. As soon as her head stopped spinning from the sudden change of position she felt something that made her blood run like ice through her veins and she almost fell back onto the bed. She felt a small and rapid heartbeat. And suddenly the nausea she'd felt for the past few weeks took on a name.

Lin couldn't be pregnant, she didn't even know if she wanted children. They had been careful. But Toph also had, and there she and Su were to tell the story. She loved Tenzin, and she loved her work and that was enough for her. She didn't have the slightest problem imagining a future where she didn't have children.

Lin didn't hate children, but she didn't love them either. Despite that children surprisingly, for her at least, adored her. The metalbender didn't even try to make them like her, but somehow the kids always clung to her, which was one of the only times Lin accidentally let her soft side show up. But she could get back to her serious and sarcastic state in seconds when she went back to talking to adults or when people dared to point out that she was "soft around kids". Deep down she loved the fact that children liked her despite her distant and intimidating exterior, not that she would ever admit it.

Lin couldn't tell if the nausea she felt next was caused by the anxiety that was churning in her stomach or by the second heartbeat she heard. After throwing up in the toilet she crawled to the sink and studied herself in the mirror and almost saw the word "PREGNANT" stamped on her forehead and felt her stomach churn once more. She decided to get ready for work, staying home until her shift would just give her more time to think. She left without breakfast, not trusting her stomach to hold anything.

As soon as she stepped inside the Police Station she heard someone calling her:

- Beifong! - it was Chief Song, she turned towards his voice, he was walking towards her - I'll nominate you for the Captain position. - he informed and Lin's stomach turned for the umpteenth time that morning

- But Chief, I still need to serve one more year as a Lieutenant. - she said trying to keep her voice steady as her stomach turned

- I'm not asking Lieutenant, you will take the exam for Captain.

- Yes, Chief. - she replied clicking her heels and he walked away

Her head was spinning. There were too many things going on at the same time. All she ever wanted was to be Chief and now she was one step closer to that goal, but now she was pregnant and she knew what that meant for her career. She huffed to herself before heading up to the office floor. She knew that the position of Captain would be the highest position she would have if she decided to go through with this pregnancy.

- Lin! - she heard Saikhan's voice approaching - Chief Song spoke to you? Are you okay? You’re paler than usual. -He added as soon as he finished analyzing his partner's face

- I am fine. - she replied she dryly - He just spoke to me.

- You deserve it, worked at an absurd pace for this. No wonder you will take the exam one year ahead of schedule. - He said in the most animated tone that his moody personality would allow and congratulated her with a pat on the back -Are you sure you're alright? - he asked again, Lin was almost green

She was aware of everything Saikhan had said. But hearing those words out loud made her feel the weight of the things she would have to give up. She had worked tirelessly for the past eight years for that opportunity and now something stopped her.

- Yeah, I just need... air. - she was interrupted by an uncontrollable urge and almost ran to the bathroom closest to the office floor

When she came back after a few minutes she knew she looked as miserable as she felt just by the look her partner was giving her. The second heartbeat stunned her and seemed to be the only thing she could hear. It was ridiculous, she thought, Toph had taught her to filter out the sounds she could pick up from the earth with her seismic sense many years ago, but nothing seemed to work and slow down the noise of the little heart.

- Have you told Tenzin yet? - Saikhan asked following her to the break room when Lin decided to ignore him

- Did I tell him what? - she asked harshly without turning to him, thanks to the Spirits the room was empty

- Please, I think I can recognize morning sickness when I see one. I have a child at home and another one on the way, you know?

-And that never afected your career. - she replied bitterly - The privileges of having a penis...

- What do you mean? - he spun her on her heel so she looked at him

- We both know that this is where my career stops if I have a child. - Saikhan didn't answer

- You need to talk to Tenzin. - he said after a few moments absorbing what that meant to his friend

- I will not. At least not now - he studied her confused - You know what having a child means to him. I won't tell him until I'm sure what I'm going to do. - she turned to the cabinet to get a mug

- What are you going to do?

- I do not know. - she confessed, she hated not knowing - This is not exactly something I planned. - she picked up the coffee pot and filled her cup with it - Or wanted. -she completed almost in a whisper as she poured a more than generous amount of sugar into the black liquid

- You need to talk to Tenzin. - he said resting his hand on Lin's shoulder and walked away leaving the break room

The first few hours of her shift dragged by and she thanked whoever was listening in for having a busy afternoon. Lin tried not to concentrate on the little heart beating so as not to hear it and when her lunch break arrived she was almost resigned to it’s presence. Almost.

Tenzin was waiting for her sitting on one of the reception stools. He frowned as she approached, noticing that something was making her anxious. The airbender boldly embraced her, but Lin pulled away and asked stiffly:

- Let's go?

During lunch Lin remained quieter than usual, she looked uncomfortable in her chair and barely touched her food. When they made their usual way past Avatar Park to get to the Headquarters they stopped at the lake to feed the turtleducks, as they always did. Everything was going as usual but Lin's silence were getting the better of Tenzin, so he asked:

- Lin, did something happen at the police station today? You're distant. - Tenzin almost lost his breath when Lin looked up at him and noticed her eyes full of tears

- I have to tell you something. - She confessed involving her torso with her arms - That will change everything from now on. - the airbender suddenly became anxious

- You know you can tell me anything. - he replied, doing his best not to let his nervousness show in his voice

- I'm pregnant.

Of all the things Lin could say to him, that was definitely not what he was expecting.

- Pregnant? - was the only thing he could say - H-how? - stuttered

- Well... You know when you put your pe...

- I know how! - exclaimed interrupting her and feeling the redness rise in his chest

- You asked!

Tenzin always wanted children, more than that, he needed children. The Air Nation's future depended on him, and not so indirectly on Lin to continue to exist, though neither liked to bring that issue into question. The airbender noticed that Lin was anxious once again, watching him waiting for a reaction.

- Lin, this is great! It wasn't exactly planned, but I couldn't be happier. - Lin couldn't remember ever seeing Tenzin as happy as he was at that moment. He enveloped her in a tight hug pulling her off the ground - I love you so much.

- I love you too.

Tenzin's sheer joy infected her, which made her question whether this might not be a good thing in the end and she thought that maybe, maybe she could do this for him.

A few weeks had passed and Tenzin and Lin still hadn't shared the news with Katara and Aang. They knew that the older couple would be over the moon with the news, but that would lead to A Conversation, as the two were not yet married.

Katara's 61st birthday party had arrived and Kya had spared no effort in the celebration, although Katara had stopped her from inviting everyone in her contact list. The family house of Air Temple Island was attended by none other than Fire Lord Zuko, Fire Lady Mai, who were talking to Tenzin and Lin, who carried Ursa on her hip. Princess Izumi, who was perched with Kya on the couch while Bumi waved his arms and told one of his absurd stories. Katara and Aang were seated at a table in the corner of the room, chatting quietly with Iroh, who had a lot of opinion for a 12-year-old boy, Lin liked that. She adored Izumi's children, they were smart and intelligent, even 2 years old Ursa was very alert to everything around her and always tried to participate in the adults' conversation.

Everything was going wonderfully well even for the introverts of the Fire Nation and the resident of Republic City, until Lin felt small footsteps, which she hadn't felt in three years, coming closer. She was the first to look at the huge double front doors. Everyone held their breath as Toph's small figure appeared behind the door and beside Sokka, and after a few seconds everyone's gazes turned to Lin, who clung to Tenzin's arm.

- Don't make it weird. - Toph was the first to break the silence - I came. Big deal! Can a lady no longer even visit her elderly friend?

At this point Izumi had already walked to Lin offering to carry Ursa, Lin accepted with a minimal nod, overwhelmed by the emotions she had cautiously buried over the past three years.

- Wait. – Toph asked raising her hand and everyone stopped breathing one more time – How many are we in? Is anyone else here?

The baby. Lin's mind despaired and she clung more tightly to Tenzin's arm as he caressed her hand trying to reassure her. Toph went over the people present, paying attention to each one of them. Snoozles, Sparky, Mai, Izuzu and her two miniatures, Twinkle Toes, Suggar Queen, Suggar Princess, Wild Child, Airhead, Linny and... a small, strong heartbeat radiating from her. Lin saw Toph's right foot turn toward her. Toph confirmed what she felt right away, an extra heart, beating quickly in time with her own daughter's, silently and with a knowing look she raised one of her eyebrows and let out a huff.

- I must have miscounted. – she said quietly without looking away from her eldest daughter – Are we going to get the party started or what? - she asked and then walked over to Katara congratulating her with a half hug

The environment had regained its pleasant energy from before, but everyone had lost sight of Lin and Tenzin. Lin was in the hall bathroom with her head buried in the toilet emptying his stomach while Tenzin held her hair and stroked her back. She pulled away from the porcelain still panting and sat on the floor resting her back against the wall.

- I hate you. – she said looking deep into Tenzin’s eyes who smiled – Why do they call it morning sickness if this shit lasts all day? – Tenzin helped her up from the floor and she went to the sink to wash her face and mouth

When she raised her face to the mirror, her soul almost left her body as she was startled by the reflection of her mother standing behind them.

- Chief! - she exclaimed taking a hand to her chest

Toph was standing with her back against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest and her bare feet crossed over each other.

- You almost killed me with morning sickness when I got pregnant with you. – she said as if that was a common subject – You took a while to knock her up, huh Airhead?! - Tenzin's face turned red

- Chief! – Lin scolded and Tenzin was ready to leave the bathroom to let the two Beifong talk when Toph's arm blocked the passage

- I'm pretty sure Suggar Queen already knows about the baby, she must be giving you time or some bullshit like that.

- How...? – Lin started, but Toph interrupted her with a huff.

- Lin, you don't have to be a Detective to know the answer. This little thing is very noisy. - She said pointing to her daughter's womb - And I may be blind, but I know that your tits are twice the normal size. - Tenzin's gaze settled on his girlfriend's bust, but soon after he was scolded by her with a slap on his bald head and a sharp look

- Stop looking at my breasts! – She said through gritted teeth – It was that face of yours that got us into this mess in the first place!

- And you haven't touched a drop of alcohol since the minute I arrived, which alone is a big clue. My pregnancies were a little delicate. You should talk to Katara. Just to make sure there's no need to take any precautions. – Toph said calmly and left the bathroom as if nothing had happened leaving behind a couple exchanging glances, Tenzin was clearly worried, but Lin was furious

As her mother dared to show up after three years of silence to act as if nothing had happened, to give her advice about a pregnancy she was still getting used to. Lin was furious and Tenzin could tell, he tried to grab her hand, but she took it out of his reach quickly. That was his fault. But as she looked up into the airbender's face, she could see he was genuinely concerned about the information Toph had just revealed.

- I'm sorry for taking it out on you. She makes me so… - Lin clenched her fists in front of her chest and snorted – I just need a second. – Tenzin nodded slowly, Lin tilted her head to the side to study his worried expression – Hey Airhead, don't look like this, everything will be fine.

- Look at you being optimistic. – he commented now in a good mood, receiving an elbow in the ribs as an answer – I'll go back to the party.You need a minute? Lin nodded and Tenzin left the bathroom turning to her and giving her one last look. She is so beautiful, he smiled

Lin grabbed the sink bowl once more. The anger she was feeling toward Toph still hadn't dissipated, but she didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone. Now her irritation was mixed with the same concern that had shown in Tenzin's eyes earlier. She turned away from the sink to study her reflection in the mirror, she lifted her tunic and watched her belly in the reflection. She ran her hand gently over it, it was as plane as it had ever been.

- Don't you dare start creating problems now, understand kid? – she said in her Lieutenant's voice

Ursa came running as best she could to meet her as Lin returned to the living room.

- She likes you more than me. – Izumi commented dramatically while Lin accommodated Ursa on her hip, and the two responded by sticking their tongues at the princess – Very mature Linny.

Lin was doing very well at avoiding a screaming match with Toph. But when she overheard her talking to Katara about Zaofu, the city Suyin had build, she blurted out angrily:

- Have you been talking to Su? - Toph and Katara turned to her. The earthbender wore an indifferent expression, but Katara's eyes watered as she noticed Lin's wounded look. - Wants to know? Forget it. That's why we haven't spoken in three years. – Lin put her hands on her hips – I'm sorry for the party, Aunt Katara. - was the last thing she said before leaving the house

Tenzin started to follow her, but Kya's hand holding hers stopped him.

- Let her be. - she said sweetly

Sokka found her 10 minutes later under the mango-jasmine, folding pebbles from the ground and tossing them over the hill. He had waited a few minutes before leaving to look for her, just like his niece, he knew she needed a few moments alone.

- I knew I'd find you here. – he stopped beside her, enjoying the view from the hill

For the past three years Sokka had visited Lin every chance he got.

- Don't start making excuses for her. – Lin said after a few moments of silence, still not turning to him

- I won't, I know she's wrong. We've argued about it a lot, but you know how she’s like. – Lin snorted

- She left. She showed no sign of life for three years. If it weren't for you I wouldn't know if she was dead or alivet. And now I find out that she's been talking to Su, even after everything she's done. While all I've done in my life was trying to make her proud. I understand she's your daughter, but… - she trailed off, stubborn and hot tears running down her cheek as her arms gripped her body – And now… – she was interrupted by Sokka's embrace and Lin let the sob she had been holding escape.

- You're my daughter, Lin. I love you from the moment I knew you were coming. You are my daughter.

Lin cried for a few more moments on Sokka's shoulder.

- I'm Pregnant. - she blurted out through her tears

Sokka pulled away from her a little not enough to break the embrace, but enough so that he could look at Lin.

- Am I going to be a grandfather? - he asked with shining eyes

- Yes. - Lin replied with a laugh as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

- I'm going to be grandfather! - She exclaimed taking both hands to his head and laughing and then hugged her daughter once more, his eyes shining with emotion

- I love you, Ba. - she said snuggling in his embrace

Lin and Sokka sat under the mango-jasmine and talked about things that made Lin more comfortable, about the South and RCPD. When they got back to Avatar's family home the heavy atmosphere that hung in the air before leaving was no longer present, everyone was sitting and talking quietly, and Lin didn't even feel bad for releasing a relieved sigh as she peeked through the crack in the door and notice that Toph was no longer present. Katara approached her as soon as she stepped next to Tenzin.

- I'm really sorry about the party, Aunt Katara.

- The party is fine, sweetheart. – Katara said tenderly, holding her hands – I'm worried about you. - She shook the metalbender’s hand

- I'm always fine. - Lin tried to joke, but her words came out with a heavier weight than planned. Lin reached for Tenzin's hand and intertwined their fingers –Tenzin and I have news. - Katara frowned at them and Tenzin gently squeezed her hand to reassure her - We’re going to have a baby.

Aang's face could barely hold his smile. Katara looked like she was about to pass out out of happiness. Bumi laughed and greeted Tenzin with an almost aggressive slap on the back and enveloped Lin in a bear hug that took longer than necessary in Lin's opinion and Kya screamed and walked past her mother almost knocking her over and nearly crushed Lin in a hug.

- Slow down, Kya! – in a censure from almost everyone, but Lin didn't bother

- A Baby Linny! – she said excited when she walked away

Mai and Zuko congratulated them with hugs.

- I'm so happy for you, dear. – Mai congratulated in her full voice after her husband placed a kiss on Lin's black hair.

When Katara was back at her senses she enveloped Lin and Tenzin in a single hug.

- I love you both. I could not be happier.

Aang then hugged Lin with the greatest gentleness in the world and whispered:

- Thank you.

Lin's stomach knotted at Aang's words. Thank you. Those two words brought her for the first time to the notion that everyone in that room expected nothing less than a little airbender from her. During Aang's embrace she caught sight of Izumi sitting on the couch. Ursa slept in her arms while Iroh played with the little metal soldiers Lin had carved and given him as a gift for his eleventh birthday. She seemed to be studying Lin with her eyes and the metalbender momentarily hated her for she could read her so well, just like Kya.

Lin started to feel dizzy when the Avatar released her. It had become too much for her. All that contact, all that attention and especially all the expectations that were now on her. She took Tenzin's hand with both hands and he looked at her worriedly.

- I need some air. – She muttered to him, who nodded and Lin's cold, callused hands slipped through his as she walked away

The breeze that passed through the island was cooler now and ruffled the black strands of Lin's hair as it hit her face. She was sitting cross-legged and eyes closed on the deck. The metalbender felt Izumi's purposeful steps approaching, but she didn't move.

- You don't meditate. - she said

- I'm not meditating. I'm just with my eyes closed. - She replied, still without leaving her position

- Are you okay?

- Excellent. – Lin snorted sarcastically and felt Izumi's eyes scolding her – That was a little too much. I needed some air.

- You know I'm not talking about that.

Lin's shoulders tensed even more and she finally opened her eyes as Izumi sat down beside her. The two of them watched the city lit up for the night and Lin let out a sigh she didn't know she was holding.

- When I got pregnant with Iroh I was 20. I didn't know if I wanted to be a mother, especially at 20 and with that man. But at the end of the day my kids are the best things in my life and the only good things Izao gave me. I suffered a lot of criticism, first for getting pregnant without being married and then for divorcing Izao and raising my children alone. What I mean is you are not alone. It might take a little longer, but I'm sure you'll be Chief. You are the most prepared and capable person in RCPD for the position.

Lin turned to Izumi with sad eyes.

-I… - she was trying to organize everything she was feeling into words – Tenzin is so happy.

- We're talking about you.

- No. Let me finish. – Lin asked, raising her hand to the princess and closed her eyes – He's so happy, Izumi. I have never seen him so happy. It's not that I don't want to be a mother, but and I'm so scared. She covered her face with her hands and took a shaky breath, unable to fight back the tears any longer. - I'm afraid I'm going to be like Toph. – she slid her hands down her face and let out an ironic laugh – I can't even call her mom!

Izumi moved closer to Lin and put her arm around her shoulder as the earthbender hugged her knees.

- It's exactly because of this fear that I know you won't be like Toph. You were on the other side of this story. You can be both, a badass oficer from Republic City and a mother. You are Lin Beifong, you can do whatever you want! - Izumi paused - And you have a family that will help and support you at all times. And this baby is going to have two drooling aunts who are going to spoil him. - Lin let out a heartfelt laugh and sobbed once more. Izumi enveloped her in a comfortable hug, leaving space for Lin to pull away if she wanted to, but she didn't, she was crying openly now.

- Thank you, Zumi.

#tenzin #beifong #TLOK #the legend of korra #atla #ursa loves lin #izumi gives good advice #pregnancy #lin beifong #heartbeat

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damerondala · 3 years

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Baby?

Hi everybody this is my first Poe fic wowow!! It’s basically all fluff and no regrets about it. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think and maybe if you’d like to be on a taglist? I can definitely figure out how to do that!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x afab Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: like one mention of sex (nothing explicit), female reader, implications of pregnancy, poe being adorable (putting this as a warning bc you may faint at how soft this himbo is), aaaaand I think that's it!

Word count: approx. 1k

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Poe approached the door of your shared quarters and punched the code into the keypad, sucking in a deep breath that threatened to turn into a yawn. Sudden sleepiness setting in at the thought of snuggling up next to you in your warm bed. But the second the door opened with a soft woosh, he froze.

There, next to the side of your bed was a bassinet…with a baby breathing softly inside. It was quite the sight for the commander’s tired eyes. His baby peacefully lying there in his bed, with an actual baby right next to them. He honestly couldn’t tell if he froze out of terror, confusion, or pure giddiness.

Poe studied the scene for what seemed like a thousand years before cautiously stepping into the room and getting his uncomfortable flight suit off off so he could finally get some sleep. Eyeing the bassinet nearly the entire time, fascinated with what he was seeing. As quiet as he was trying to be to not wake you, the second his side of the bed dipped under his weight, you were rolling over to face him. “Hi handsome,” you greeted with a raspiness to your voice, the air on base not treating your throat with kindness during the cold nights.

“Hey baby,” the cocky pilot returned while pulling you into his chest, immediately following with a gesture to the obvious elephant in the room. “So, uh, what happened while I was gone? You get some action?” The man wasn’t dumb, he just liked being the one to make you smile like that. Soft, sleepy, and happy.

You responded to his sarcasm with a gentle kiss to his scruffy jaw and a soft yawn, “Kiyah had a recon mission,” you swallowed, “asked me to take care of her for the night.” Kiyah was a hell of a pilot that brought honor to Dagger squadron. It was rare for children to be born on base, but Kiyah had an “oops” moment about a year ago that was now neatly swaddled by your bedside, courtesy of you.

“Oh, oh I see. I was worried we weren’t careful enough before I left,” Poe coyly smiled, your own yawn causing his body to mimic yours. You let out a breath through your nose in lieu of a giggle and said, “that’s not how that works but good job for trying.”

The man brushed off your lighthearted teasing as his mind was suddenly flooded with the idea that the next infant in your bedroom would most likely be the product of you both. This caused him to subconsciously squeeze his arm around you tighter, placing a kiss to your head. Breathing in your lovely smell. “You know,” his heart skipped a beat before speaking again, “we could have one, one of our own. Or two. Or three. Or twelve.”

You responded with a scoff that was nowhere near actually upset, “excuse me, who has to carry these twelve little Damerons?” Although the thought of twelve bubbly children with their father’s dark locks and your eyes was enough to make your heart swell. Little did you know that the pilot holding you had the same tight, warm sensation in his own chest upon imagining a family with you.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. We’ll have fun making them though,” from your position, you couldn’t see the suggestive brow being raised, but you could definitely tell it was happening by the way his voice carried. You smiled. You had missed him while he was away. His charming demeanor, his gentle touches, all of it.

“That we will,” you couldn’t deny it, this time looking up into his warm eyes and smiling. The second your big, breathtaking eyes met his, you could have sworn his pupils dilated. He was truly smitten and very glad to be home. “Why don’t we get some sleep? You look tired sweetheart.”

Before he could admit that you were right, he was exhausted, a soft babble made both you and Poe lift your heads and stare at the bassinet. The sleepiness your dashing pilot felt was instantly forgotten and he sat up, eyes still locked onto the baby who was already looking inquisitively at the man with the messy hair.

Poe turned to you with a look of “should I?” Written all over his face, not sure if he was able to handle a baby, despite his snide comments earlier about having an entire platoon’s worth of children with you. You responded to his uneasiness with a gentle push to his shoulder, encouraging him to go take a look. Maker knows that baby kept you up longer than you had wished anyway. There was no denying she had her mother’s spirit, Kiyah was very proud of her feisty and energetic daughter.

Gentle as ever, Poe reached down into the baby’s bassinet and scooped her up into his arms. An easy smile that reached his eyes on his face that you couldn’t help but swoon at. Although most would argue that Poe’s true element was flying, and while that is something he is very talented in, you adored the way he looked right now. Holding a baby in his big, strong arms and looking so…paternal really suited him. He began lowly humming a tune you know was from his home planet, he had mentioned that his mother would to sing him lullabies every night.

The child didn’t cry, not with Poe. And she was back asleep quicker than she had woken up. You smiled at Poe and he returned the warm gesture as he climbed back into bed, pulling you back into his arms. “How long is Kiyah going to be gone?” He asked. “She gets back home tomorrow morning.” You said, knowing that he internally cursed at that. He was hoping he could have more time with the baby, playing house in the middle of a war. He wanted it all. He wanted it with you.

That was the only thing keeping him going most days.

#my writing #poe fic #this isn't the best but considering how long it's been since i've written #i'm kind of proud #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x you

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vennilavee · 2 years

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(sending this as a submission bc it exceeded the ask character limit lol)

Idk wtf this is, but I just had to write this fluffy tmahs scene out of my system. In oc's 2nd trimester of her pregnancy with Rina, she's needier so needy for Levi's body. One night towards the end of the 2nd trimester (oc is showing) and as Kaiya is sleeping for the night, oc leans against the wall of their living room and passionately kisses Levi as they make out -- Levi prefers oc to be against the wall so she doesn't press her stomach into him too much, and so her back can be supported. After making out for a while, oc pulls Levi to their bedroom and they end up in their bed with Levi hovering over oc, on top. Once they've undressed, Levi tenderly cages his arms around oc's head and despite oc's pleas and whines of how much she needs him, and before he slides his dick in, he softly tells oc "We're only doing this", he pauses to kiss oc softly on her temple, "if you promise to tell me if anything so much as hurts at all, if you're uncomfortable in any way, or if it's too much. I want to know, okay?" his extra concern is clear in his soft gaze at oc's visible bump (and it'd absolutely kill him if when you were doing it, he accidentally hurt oc in some way and it somehow harmed oc or the baby they both went through so much grief to get and wanted). Oc's overpowering need for Levi causes her to nod her head a few times, humming an "mhmm" in agreement, but Levi just huffs, "I need you to say it y/n, or we're stopping". Oc huffs back, but kisses his neck and returns a response which she hoped was satisfactory "...'promise Lev". Even though oc and Levi have done this many times, it's the hormones that truly make it feel more euphoric and somehow like a new experience each time Leve slowly slides his dick in -- it's not even fully in yet, and oc is already intaking her breath sharply, moving to cover her eyes with her arm. Once Levi is all the way in, he's panting but softly coos oc's name and moves oc's arm away so he can see oc's face. Oc's eyes are shut, her mouth is open in a little 'o' and her eyebrows are scrunching -- Levi's protectiveness gets the better of him and from oc's demeanour, he gets the impression that oc is somewhat uncomfortable, and he mutters out a soft "stupid" with no real malice to it before pulling completely out (from the moment he went in, oc has said nothing). Oc whines at the loss of contact, but Levi stares at oc's eyes, saying "Told you to tell me if it's uncomfortable. Maybe we should stop" but oc laughs softly, amusement in her tone at his immediate reaction as she says "C'mon Lev. Wasn't uncomfortable. Not in the slightest. You jus' felt so fuckin' good". A blush creeps onto his stern expression as oc continues to plead with him "We're fine, okay? Just ...continue please. Please, Lev?" he rolls his eyes and 'tsks' before reiterating his rule again, and then continuing to slide in again as he tenderly ravishes oc's body with his touch and affectionate praises and love for the next few hours.

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the way u guys send these lil headcanons and fics of this fic makes me CRI bc i havent even written a part for this universe in so long 😭 thank u for sending this ENTIRE ASS DRABBLE TO Me...and yes its canon in the moon/stars universe. my man is so attentive and worried meanwhile oc is just trying to get railed while she feels so good

#submission #moon/stars hc #thank u for sending this it means so much to me<33

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abraxos-is-toothless · 3 years

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Home for Christmas

This is my fic for the @aftgexchange winter round for @andreil-minyasten

I had so much fun writing this and I really hope this lives up to what you wanted! I actually had an idea for a part 2 to this from another bit of your prompts. If you want me to write that for you, feel free to message and ask, I’ll be quite happy to do so:)

Enjoy!!<3

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December 22nd

“What the hell do you mean that you aren’t going to be here for christmas, Andrew?”

Neil was beyond, angry. He was pissed. Their holiday plans had been decided back in November. Andrew would come to Neil in Boston from New York and they’d host Aaron, Katelyn from the twenty fourth before they’d meet Nicky, Erik- who were spending Christmas with Eric’s family in Germany -and the rest of the foxes down in South Carolina to spend New Years with Wymack and Abby.

But apparently, that was all going to shit, now.

“I’ve tried Neil, but flights are delayed and there’s a storm coming in. I don’t know if I’ll make it, the Mas definitely won’t.” Now he was beyond consoling.

“If you had come two days ago like you said you would, this wouldn’t be a problem. We haven’t seen each other since September.” He missed his partner, missed soft touches when they’d reach for one another in the night, he missed laying his head in Andrew’s lap while the other man read one of his newest books. Overall, he just missed Andrew.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was Kevin’s fault I couldn’t come out when I had planned?” Neil scoffed.

“What Kevin wants has never stopped you before. Whatever, Andrew, I’m going to bed.” He ignored Andrew’s reply, hanging up and flinging his phone onto his bedside table. He was so tired of everything. Neil carried out his nighttime routine quite aggressively, flinging back the duvet with force, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone. Tonight, the bed felt uncomfortable, lumpy and cold, so awfully cold. It had been three years of this, of the long distance, scheduling time to see each other, of having to be without one another for the majority of the year after spending four years attached at the hip while they were at PSU. The two of them, being how stubborn they both were, had sworn that the distance wouldn’t be an issue. Neil had to play with the Bobcats for two years minimum, considering it was the best contract he could get straight out of college and the closest to Andrew’s team.

Everything was great at first, wonderful even, they saw each other on as many weekends as they could, called and texted every day, and Skyped at least twice a week. But then shit went down hill. Practice built up and up if the team’s performance declined, promotions and photo shoots and team signings started taking up their free time. It was shit, they knew it was shit but, what could they do? He hated this, he hated everything about it.

His sleep that night was fitful and restless, and he was wide awake when the sun rose the next morning, yellow and orange rays of light hitting the empty spot beside him.

December 24th

Neil hadn’t spoken to Andrew since he abruptly ended their phone call two nights ago. There were several missed calls from the blonde on his phone, and many unread texts. He saw them as they came through, sometimes just his name, sometimes they asked if he was alright and ‘why won’t you pick up the fucking phone, Abram?’

Every part of him wanted to, fucking god, did he want to, but he had no idea what his brain would spout from his lips. He was terrified that the anger, the hurt of the separation, would come back full force and he’d say something awful that he’d most likely regret. That was his personal default when he was mad, finding exactly what to say that would hurt and hurt hard. So, no, he didn’t pick up the phone, he just left it alone and listened to the odd buzz as it vibrated against the kitchen counter. It was almost 8:30pm and Neil was making, or hoped to be making, cinnamon sugar cookies that would with any luck, still be warm and not burnt by the time Aaron and Katelyn arrived. They were apparently Kate’s latest pregnancy craving and he wanted for her to have them on hand so Aaron wouldn’t have to leave at some ungodly hour to get store bought ones.

There was flour everywhere and he was pretty sure there was some cinnamon on his forehead somehow, on top of that, he’d used more bowls than were actually needed for the ingredients the recipe called for but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Anything to do with cooking or baking was Andrew’s area of expertise: Neil just liked to watch, a giddy smile on his face whenever his partner whispered ‘staring’ without even looking at him. Shaking his head before he started to wallow in his own self pity, the timer to the first batch went off just as the buzzer to the apartment did. Quickly pulling out the baking tray, he placed it on the side, barely taking note of how the shapes he cut out now resembled blobs as he rushed to the door and pressed the button for the speaker. “Hello?”

“Neil! It’s Kate, Aaron is just sorting the bags and told me to come up first.” He smiled despite his somber mood for the past week.

“Come on up, I’ll buzz you in. Do you want me to wait outside the elevator for you?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine!” He agreed and let her in, wiping his hands before propping his front door open and waiting for her anyway. Before long, he was greeted with an eye rolling Katelyn, but there was a grin on her lips nonetheless. “You’re nearly as bad as my husband, I’m surprised he even let me come up on my own, but thank you.” She said, as he held out his elbow for her to take. She had begun to waddle a little now with how big she had gotten. Neil supposed that having twins made the whole process a little different.

He helped her settle into the armchair in the living room and asked, “can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks. Also, is that cinnamon I smell?” He felt his cheeks go hot and knew he was blushing.

“You mentioned at one point on the phone that cinnamon cookies are your newest craving and so I made some for you. They’re still warm if you’d like a few?” Katelyn nodded excitedly, murmuring how grateful she was at the thoughtful gesture and he hurried off, placing a few questionable looking snowmen and coming back into the other room just as the buzzer went off again. He left the pregnant woman to devour her food and admire his sparkly Christmas tree and went to let Aaron in. When the elevator opened up on his floor once again, he was met with a ruffled Minyard twin who was surrounded by bags.

“What the hell do you bring with you?”

“Shut your mouth and help me carry this shit, would you?” Neil kept his mouth shut and hefted a couple of bags into his arms. Most went into the spare room where the couple would be sleeping and then Aaron unloaded a big bag of presents to sit underneath the tree while he went back to put more cookies in the oven, and to load a few more onto Katelyn’s now empty plate. When he came back and sat himself on the couch, Aaron seemed out of breath, hugging as he lay on the wood floor.

“I’ll ask again, how much did you bring?” The woman stuffing her face giggled as her husband giggled and replied;

“We have your presents and Andrew’s presents from us, mine and Aaron’s that we’ve gotten each other, and we brought all the gifts for when we see the others next week. Also our clothes and my hospital bag even though I have about two and a half months left.” He nodded, though he was confused on the amount of clothes. They only lived an hour away from him and could go back for more clothes before they headed to South Carolina. Neil was about to mention just that when Aaron interrupted.

“Where is my brother anyway?” Ah yes, he’d forgotten to mention that. He let his face go blank as he told them what had happened. That Andrew kept pushing it back until he couldn’t come, that they’d argued and that they weren’t currently speaking. Katelyn had something akin to pity on her face and Aaron looked as though he was angry on behalf of Neil. “What the fuck? He’s seriously going to miss Christmas with his family, with you?”

“Looks like it.”

“But since when has what Kevin wanted ever mattered to him? Unless it benefitted his own needs of course.” It was weird slowly becoming friends with Aaron and seeing that occasionally, they could be on the same wavelength and agree with each other. It was a little bit dangerous, in his opinion.

“That’s what I said.”

“Is he still going to come to Palmetto next week.” He didn’t know what to say, because Andrew could still turn up at Abby’s despite not being here now. He also hadn’t spoken to him, so he hadn’t got the chance to ask. Neil stayed quiet. Aaron looked like he was about to press for more when Kate suggested that they watch a movie together and started setting up the tv without waiting for either of them to reply. Twenty minutes into the movie, Katelyn had picked A Christmas Carol because it was a classic, Neil got the final batch of cookies from the oven and cleared down the kitchen for tomorrow. Another ten minutes after that, Katelyn disappeared to put on pyjamas and Aaron grabbed him and Neil a beer from the fridge. By ten o’clock they were debating on watching one more film or going to bed when the apartment door opened and closed loudly.

The three of them half jumped out of their seats, turning violently to see Andrew Minyard standing in the doorway, and Neil’s breath caught in his throat. He was bundled up in a thick black coat, the collar pulled up around his neck, and his black knitted bobble hat Neil had brought him last year was pulled down over his ears that he just knew would still be adorably pink at the tips. One of his hands was tucked into his pocket and the other held a large duffel bag.

“Well well, look at what the cat finally dragged in.” Both Neil and Andrew glared at Aaron, who only rolled his eyes in response to their annoyance. Turning back to Andrew he gave him one last once over before standing slowly.

“Why don’t you go and sort yourself out,” he pointed to the bedroom where their en-suite was, “I’ll be in there in a minute.” Andrew gave a curt nod in confirmation and disappeared down the hall, bedroom door shutting softly. Katelyn was speaking to him, saying that she and Aaron were going to head to bed, kissing him on the cheek and pulling her husband along. Neil’s first instinct was to run to the bedroom, wrap his partner up in his arms, kiss him until they were breathless and then never let him go again but he was still mad at him. So, he cleared the few empty cans from the coffee table, and took Kate’s dirty glass and plate to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. He locked the door and the windows out of habit and switched off all of the lights and slowly walked to his bedroom where he knew Andrew was waiting.

When he reached the door, he froze with his hand on the handle, closing his eyes and breathing deeply several times before he forced himself to step inside. As he suspected. Andrew was now in a pair of grey sweats and, he noticed with some satisfaction, one of Neil’s long sleeve cotton shirts. This one was a navy blue and Andrew had never looked more beautiful than he didn’t now, in soft clothes, hair ruffled and his nose and cheeks still a little pink from the cold air outside. He tugged on his withering self control and stopped himself from climbing over the other man and just holding him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Taking that as a cue to start first, Andrew spoke, though Neil never expected for those words to ever come out of his partner’s mouth. “I lied to you.”

“What?” The blonde looked down at his hands, sighed, and then stood, walking and walking until he was a mere few steps away from Neil. Before, before there would be no need for that distance, because they’d healed and grown together and barely used ’yes or no’ unless it was a bad day or they were trying new things. Fuck long distance relationships.

“I lied. Kevin was never the one to keep me back in New York the first time, and there was no storm coming in to stop me from coming this time.” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck? How could you lie, you swore you’d never lie to me. Why didn't you want to come, and why turn up at the last minute?” Andrew did step into his space then, on hand gripping his hip and the other linking their pinkie fingers together.

“Because there was something I was trying to sort out but those god damn stickball coaches are a pain in my ass.” Neil blinked, and then blinked a couple more times, before he was led to the bed where Andrew let go of him to dig out a stack of papers from his duffel bag and handed them into his scarred hands. “Merry Christmas, Junkie.” Okay, now he really was confused as he stared at the item in his hands with a furrowed brow. His anger was still there, but dying out slowly. He flicked through page after page eyes widening and mouth dropping open before he looked back at Andrew whose lips were quirking at his dumbfounded expression.

“You’re serious? You join the Bobcats when the new season starts?” His lover nodded.

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being away from you, of all the fighting. I’ve been working with your coach and mine to trade me with your goalkeeper, Angie. They hated it at first but I got there in the end. That’s why I’m so late, they were still hesitant about signing the damn forms.”

“So you started yet another fight with me?” In one swift movement there were hands on his cheeks and words were being breathed against his lips, sending pleasant, incredibly missed shivers down his spine as he wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist.

“Not my finest moment, but I was trying to surprise you. Clearly, I’m not very good at it.” Neil chuckled wetly, and pressed their foreheads together.

“This is really happening?” He whispered gently.

“Yeah. I’ve still got to move all my stuff out here and things like that, but it’s real, Abram.”

“Then kiss me, you asshole, and make me forget your very bad surprise.” Andrew laughed then too, walking him backwards and pushing him down onto the bed, straddling his waist. They kissed for what seemed like hours, wrapped up and lost in one another. When they finally pulled apart, his lips felt tingly and his breathing came in pants.

That night, he fell asleep to warm sheets, a soft body behind him and cradled in a strong pair of arms. Despite the rocky start, Neil thought this might have been his best Christmas yet.

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I really hoped you liked it and if you do want that part two, I’ll be more than willing. I’m actually quite happy with the idea:)

#aftg exchange #andreil fluff #andrew minyard #neil josten #katelyn #aaron minyard #christmas fic #long distance relationship #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #aftg fic #my fic #all for the game #my writing #haz writes

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megabadbunny · 4 years

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Of Turns and Tides (Or: One Time The Doctor Was A Giant Arse About Rose's Pregnancy, and Five Times He Wasn't)

Because I don't necessarily think Rose and the metacrisis Doctor would have any children, but if they did, I can't imagine it would go quite the way it's portrayed in The Turning of the Tide. SFW version on FF.net.

Also this fic is dedicated to @davinasgirlfriend, whose patience with me is a blessed fucking virtue. Go read her stuff. She's an absolute doll. <3 <3 <3

***

It’s not like they weren’t careful—Rose has got her shot, after all, and honestly after everything the Cannon put her through, she’s sort of surprised everything still works in there, reproductively-speaking—but it’s just her luck that he would have some sort of Time Lord supersperm in addition to everything else.

“I’m pregnant,” she replies when he asks, in that sometimes-perfunctory way of his, how she’s doing this morning, amidst the bustle of making his tea and his toast and poring over the reports streaming into his mobile. He’s fully dressed (of course he is, bloody morning person) but Rose is still in her pyjamas (if one qualifies one of the Doctor’s tee shirts as her pyjamas, which she does), watching him as he drifts about with his eyes glued to his phone. Rose sits very still, clutching the pregnancy test, has been ever since it cheerfully gave her its diagnosis a few moments prior, and she’s trying not to think about how gross it is, really, that she’s more or less sitting at the kitchen table with a wee-stick in hand, even if it is dry by now. She reminds herself to scrub off extra hard in the bath, give everything in the kitchen a good solid wipedown later.

“How about you?” Rose asks, tapping the test nervously against her thigh.

The Doctor nods. “Good, good,” he says, in a way that very much suggests he is not listening to her even a little bit.

“I went ahead and scheduled an appointment in a couple days, to see how far along things are,” says Rose. “Maybe about seven weeks, going by my period.”

“Mm-hmm, excellent, excellent.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to start having regular checkups and such.”

“Uh-huh.”

“To make sure everything’s going like it should.”

“Well, naturally,” the Doctor replies, staring at his mobile.

“You know. With the pregnancy.”

“Of course.”

“Yep,” Rose says mildly, throwing up her hands. “Not every day you give birth to a lizard, after all. Did I tell you I volunteered for the lizard-mother-surrogate program in Chiswick?”

“Mmm.”

“Yeah, it’s been in the works for a few years in this universe, human-lizard surrogacy. Big market for it over here. Mum’s had six. Pete’s in line next. Just lizards, lizards all over the place. Like Biblical-plague levels,” Rose continues, staring at him. “It’ll be toads next. I guess I should have asked which you prefer. Would you rather have a lizard or a toad in the nursery, Doctor?”

“Yes,” says the Doctor.

Sighing in frustration, Rose waits. She waits and watches the Doctor as he pulls the toast from the pan (too hot, he burns his fingers on the first try but it doesn’t stop him trying again anyway) and pours his tea (and promptly forgets about it) and removes the jam from the fridge (and promptly forgets about that as well) and shoves the unbuttered, un-jammed toast between his teeth before grabbing his coat and calling out an absentmindedly muffled “Meet you at the car!” around a mouthful of food as he darts out the front door.

The flat is, as always, very quiet without him in it.

Rose sighs again, but she only has half a moment to feel deflated before a soft squeal lets her know that the front door is opening again, slowly, this time. She looks up to see the Doctor popping back in, pulling the toast out of his mouth, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he says, hesitantly. “You’re what?”

Rose nods. “Pregnant, yeah.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, probably cos it’s true,” Rose replies, holding up the pregnancy test, its reading displayed on the screen for the whole world to see.

“Ah,” says the Doctor. His stare loses focus, fixed on nothing in particular.

Rose waits, forcing herself to be patient. Not to fidget.

“Well, that’s,” says the Doctor, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s. Hmm.”

Rose frowns. “Are you all right?”

“I’m—yes, of course,” the Doctor says, shaking his head and blinking just a little too fast. “Always am. You?”

“I’m a little worried about you, to be honest.”

“Oh, well, no reason to be, everything’s fine,” says the Doctor as he yanks on his coat, struggling to pull his sleeve over a fist wrapped around crumbling toast. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m perfectly all right. Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s fine. Everything’s dandy. Fantastic. Molto bene—”

Concerned, Rose rises from the table. “Doctor—”

“Only I’m running a tad late, though, so I’ll just—I’ll hail a taxi, shall I, and let you get to HQ on your own time?” says the Doctor, backing away as he shoves the remainders of his toast directly into a coat pocket. “Sounds good to me, practical resolution, useful all around. I’ll see you at work, then, shall I?”

And with that, he takes off running out the door, before Rose can get in another word.

With a great heavy sigh, Rose tosses the pregnancy test in the bin before plonking back down at the table, shoulders slumping. She can’t say she’s surprised by his reactions; it’s all more or less what she expected, or what she would have expected, had she ever anticipated the possibility that things might fare this way. But still. She’d sort of held out hope, in the ten or so minutes since she’d seen that plus flashing across the test screen, that he would be happy. Rose has never felt that deep urgent desire to have children of her own—goodness knows she likes children, and of course she loves Tony, but becoming a mother has just never been an entry on her list of priorities—but now that the very real likelihood of having a child is staring her in the face, Rose finds she’s warming up to the idea quite quickly. The thought of building a family with the Doctor is nice. Rose is surprised by just how nice that thought feels.

It’s less nice to know that he may not feel the same way.

Shaking her head, Rose chides herself. He had a family once before, she knows, and while she may not be privy to many of the details, she’s sharp enough to know he lost them. She can only imagine the sort of scar that would leave, the sort of bone-deep hurt that would haunt a person after something like that. This is probably quite a shock to him, she reasons. He just needs a little bit of time, and space, and support, and then he’ll come around. He always does. Well, he usually does. Well, the jury’s still out on a few items. But she loves him, and he loves her, and that’s what really matters. Right? And in a few moments, Rose will finish washing up and getting ready for work, and when she shows up at UNIT, things may be a little tense and stiff with the Doctor for a little bit, but he’ll relax back into his usual self before either of them knows it. Neither of them can stay awkward or uncomfortable with the other for too long. No reason for this to be any different. But they’ll get to work in their adjacent departments and the Doctor will loosen up and Rose’s nerves will settle and then things will be fine.

Right?

(Except when Rose arrives at UNIT, the Doctor’s not there. No one’s seen him. No one’s heard from him. There’s no sign of him in UNIT at all, not for the rest of the day; texts go unanswered and calls go straight to voicemail. And when Rose returns home that evening, frustrated and bewildered and hurt, the flat is dark and empty, the Doctor nowhere to be seen.

Well. Fuck.)

Despite the low background hum of panic buzzing nonstop at the back of her brain, Rose does a marvelous job of not-vibrating-out-of-her-skin-with-anxiety during the next several days, in which the Doctor deigns to make precisely zero (0) appearances. In fact, she does such a marvelous job, it doesn’t even occur to her to jump when he bursts in on her obstetrician’s appointment without warning.

“Doctor,” Rose says amidst the sounds of Jackie’s indignant “Oi, what do you think you’re doing, barging in like that?” But the Doctor ignores them both, proceeding immediately to the nurse’s clipboard where she left it, flipping through the notes with an intensity that borders on the manic.

Rose knows she should feel relief at seeing the Doctor here, now; he may look a bit pale and wan beneath the fluorescent lights, his scruff a little longer than usual, perhaps a little less kempt, but he’s safe, he’s not injured, he didn’t get himself into some kind of stupid trouble, somehow. (Didn’t run away, didn’t just leave her here. Not that she’d ever entertained such a worry. Except when she did.) But once the tide of anxiety ebbs, Rose realizes what she feels now is mostly anger.

A lot of anger.

“And where the hell have you been, eh?” Jackie demands; in lieu of a reply, the Doctor reaches into his pocket for his spectacles, slipping them on as he pores over the nurse’s paperwork.

Rose stares stonily at the Doctor as Jackie tuts with impatience. “Hey, mister. I asked you a question—”

“Height’s off,” announces the Doctor, procuring a pen so he can write over the nurse’s notes with his own. “Too short by 2.3 millimeters. Weight’s off, too, missing a quarter-kilogram or so, they really should get their scales fixed. And the age listed doesn’t account for the disparity between time rates in your original versus current universes. Incompetent twenty-first century medicine,” he adds under his breath. “Might as well be living in the Stone Age.”

Rose’s jaw clamps so tightly she’s surprised she doesn’t crack any molars. With a huff, Jackie reaches for the clipboard, but the Doctor backs away out of reach without even looking. “Don’t they even test for Hepatitis B surface antigens in this universe?” he scoffs.

“No, cos we haven’t got any of the Hepatitises in this universe, have we?” snaps Jackie. “And none of this is any of your business anyway, not until you apologize to Rose for up and disappearing on her. How long’ve you been gone, now, without so much as a word? Three days? Four? I mean really, how could you do that to her, putting her through the wringer like that? And right after she tells you she’s pregnant, too!”

“Yes, yes, I’m very sorry,” says the Doctor absently with a dismissive wave of his hand, his gaze still fixed on the clipboard in front of him, “but we’ve got more pressing things to attend to, so let’s just go ahead and get this over with, shall we?”

“Get what over with?” asks Jackie, as Rose’s fists clench the examination table beneath her, the pleather squeaking under her fingernails. “No,” Jackie continues, pointing an accusatory finger at the Doctor. “Until you apologize to Rose—and I mean apologize properly, you daft alien twat—the only getting you’re doing is out. So send in the actual physician,” she snarls, and now her finger is jabbing toward the door, “and then get out.”

“No can do,” quips the Doctor as he darts away to rummage about in the room’s cabinet-drawers. “Your so-called actual physician’s gone home for the day—seems someone might have hacked his calendar and reassigned his last patient today to one visiting Dr. James C. Noble, a.k.a, me.”

The Doctor ignores Rose’s eyes widening in alarm and Jackie’s splutter of indignation as he pulls out a stethoscope and drapes it about his neck. “And as you know, your actual physician is booked rather full right now,” he continues, withdrawing a blood-pressure cuff and other assorted equipment. “So if you want your checkup done any time in the next three weeks, here’s your one and only opening.”

Hands balled into fists, Jackie draws a deep breath and opens her mouth to hurl forth what will be, undoubtedly, a scathing stream of insults and outrage in an eruption that would put Mount Vesuvius to shame, but she stops when Rose places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Mum,” says Rose, with a calmness she certainly does not feel. “Would you give the Doctor and me a few moments, please?”

Jackie’s mouth clamps shut as she glances between Rose and the Doctor, lips twisting in disapproval. The Doctor either can’t meet their gazes, or he won’t. Just as well; if eyes could truly shoot daggers, Jackie would be gutting the Doctor right about now.

“Mum,” says Rose again, softly, and Jackie relaxes a little, though she’s still eyeing the Doctor with a healthy amount of disgust.

“All right, sweetheart,” says Jackie with a sniff. “But don’t let him off too easy, yeah? You let someone hurt you like that once, they’ll just keep doing it. And you deserve better than that.”

Her eyes flicker meaningfully toward Rose’s belly. “You both do,” Jackie tells her, and sweeps out of the room with a flounce and a huff.

It’s just Rose and the Doctor in the exam room, now. The quiet is loud enough to suffocate. But the Doctor still won’t look at her.

“Well, now that that’s all out of the way, shall we proceed?” says the Doctor, snapping on a pair of medical gloves as he steps briskly over to Rose. “See if we can pick up on the fetal heartbeat, take a few other readings—”

“No,” says Rose.

“—and check on your vitals,” says the Doctor, ignoring her as he plugs the stethoscope into his ears and presses the bell to her sternum, through her shirt. “Seeing as they are, you know, vital—”

“I said no,” Rose tells him, firmly.

“—and naturally, one must always be prepared for all possibilities, like preeclampsia or fibrinogen deficiency or aortic insufficiency, for example,” the Doctor breezes on as if he didn’t hear her, shifting the stethoscope on her chest, “which reminds me, I should order an echocardiogram, just in case. Of course, there’s always the chance it won’t adequately visualize the ascending aorta—”

“Nothing’s wrong with my heart, Doctor.”

“—but even rudimentary tests are better than no test, though an echocardiogram might not be necessary after all, since the auscultation of the stethoscope combined with my superior auditory capabilities means I can probably detect and diagnose any murmurs without visual aid of any sort. However, the added strain of carrying a pregnancy to term could place undue stress on the host’s cardiac system, so one must diligently keep an eye out for any symptoms of myocardial infarction or peripartum cardiomyopathy developing in the patient’s—”

“No,” Rose shouts, smacking the Doctor’s hand away. “God, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

The Doctor’s face is pinched in discomfort and Rose realizes the smack must have been terribly loud for him, amplified greatly by the stethoscope, but she doesn’t much care right this second. Her blood is rushing in her ears and boiling in her veins and her sinuses are so full of pressure from four-days’-worth of unshed tears (because he ran away, she told him she was pregnant and he ran away, he left her, and even if he came back, it still fucking hurts) that Rose feels like her head is going to burst.

“I’m not some bloody patient,” Rose tells the Doctor, her breathing rough and ragged, “and I’m sure as hell not a fucking host. I’m me. I’m Rose. I’m your partner.” She feels her expression harden. “Or at least I thought I was.”

The Doctor doesn’t reply, the stethoscope-bell still grasped in one hand, the ends still plugged in his ears. His face is carefully blank, now. That just makes Rose even angrier.

“You left,” she tells him. “The second things got a little serious, you left me.”

“I was only gone for ninety-three hours, Rose,” he argues softly.

“Only,” Rose scoffs. “That’s four days I haven’t heard from you, haven’t known if you were dead or alive or hurt or kidnapped or ever coming back—”

“Your faith in me is truly inspiring,” says the Doctor drily, removing the stethoscope so he can drop it on the counter. “Would you have thought any of that about the real Doctor?”

“Don’t you dare,” snaps Rose, springing up from the examination table. “We settled all that ages ago. I know who you are,” she says, jabbing a finger into his chest, “and you do too, and you are not going to drudge up a petty old row from two years back just so you can use it like a shield against me. I’m angry with you, properly angry, and I’ve got every right to be. You got that?”

The Doctor’s expression doesn’t change, except that he might purse his lips a little in frustration. “Got it,” he says tonelessly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Blinking furiously in an effort to hold back her tears, Rose draws in a deep, steadying breath. “You need to talk to me. You need to tell me what’s going on. I know you don’t want to, but you’ve got to. That’s part of what being a couple is about. That’s one of the rules. One of the biggest.”

A runaway tear rolls down her cheek and Rose angrily scrapes it off with the heel of her palm. “I might not always understand what you’re going through right away, but I’ll always listen. Cos we’re in this together. Right?”

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice clipped.

“Aren’t we?”

A pause. “Yes.”

Another tear escapes and rolls sluggishly down Rose’s cheek, leaving a cold and sticky trail in its wake. Rose doesn’t wipe it away this time, no matter how much she hates crying in front of others (no matter how much she especially hates crying in front of him). “Look at me, please,” she says, her jaw set, and slowly, the Doctor obeys, his eyes meeting hers properly for the first time in days. Only now does Rose notice the dark circles under his raw and red-rimmed eyes; god, he looks tired.

“I know you’ve probably got complicated feelings about all this,” Rose tells him, forcing the words out no matter how much they want to stick in her throat. “And that’s okay. I’m still sorting out how I feel, myself. But you can’t just run away when something’s bothering you, now. Not anymore.”

The Doctor glances away from her.

“Please just talk to me,” Rose says, willing her voice not to tremble. “Just tell me what’s going through your head. Please.”

Eyes sliding shut, the Doctor just exhales, his breath leaving his lungs with a shake. “I don’t…” he starts to say, and stops. He licks his lips nervously. He falls silent. Rose waits for him to try again.

Decades and centuries pass between them.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” the Doctor confesses quietly. “I want to be excited. I want to want this. But I just—I can’t…”

He swallows. “I’m just so afraid. And that fear is drowning out everything else.”

Rose nods, stepping closer to him. “Okay. What are you afraid of?”

The Doctor barks out a harsh laugh. “Is Everything a comprehensive enough answer for you?”

“What’s bothering you, specifically?”

“Really, I should’ve known better, taken better precautions,” the Doctor mutters, more to himself than her, Rose suspects. “I can’t let my guard down, not for anything, not ever. I promised myself I’d never go through any of this ever again. Never again. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Any of what?” Rose asks patiently.

“Having a family,” the Doctor replies, the words almost choked, like he’s wrenched them out of his chest. “Being a father.”

“You’re afraid of losing your family again.”

“Of course I am,” the Doctor says brokenly. His hands push beneath his specs to rub at his eyes. “Can you really blame me?”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“What difference would it make?”

“Because you’re acting like this is something you’ve got to face all on your own, but you don’t,” Rose tells him stubbornly. “I don’t just need you right now, Doctor. You need me, too.”

The Doctor opens his mouth like he might protest, but Rose doesn’t give him a chance. “You said you want to be excited,” Rose tells him. “Just a minute ago, you said you want to want this. If you take the fear away—easier said than done, I know, but bear with me—how do you feel, underneath all that? Be honest, please. What do you feel when you think of me being pregnant? When you think of us having a family?”

“It isn’t exactly us, though, is it?” the Doctor says, pushing a hand through his hair. “It’d be your body doing all the work. I haven’t got any right to tell you what to do with your body.”

“True,” says Rose, as the ghost of a smile threatens to quirk the corner of her mouth. “But you’re not telling me. I’m asking you.”

She pokes his chest again, halfheartedly this time. “Don’t get used to it.”

The Doctor flashes a weak half-smile her way. “I don’t know, Rose,” he says, and the smile fades like it was never there. “Honestly, it shouldn’t even be possible. It never really occurred to me that this might happen, because it isn’t supposed to. It can’t. Time Lords haven’t reproduced like this for eons. The human DNA shouldn’t be enough to override that basic programming, shouldn’t have been enough to render me anything but functionally sterile.”

He sighs, raking his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. If things were different—if we knew more about the embryonic genetic makeup, if I’d read up more on human-Time Lord crossbreeding when I had the chance, if the TARDIS were full-grown and we had access to anything more advanced than twenty-first century medical equipment, if I felt like I could trust the physicians here properly, if the infant-mother mortality rate wasn’t what it is in this day and age—though I suppose at least we’re not in America, can you imagine?—then I might...”

Shaking his head, he grunts in frustration. “But then I start thinking about how defenseless you’ll be, especially in the later months, and as soon as word gets out, who knows what sort of attention that might attract, everything from overeager paparazzi to potential kidnappers to opportunistic extraterrestrials looking to make a quick buck harvesting rare hybrid children—and that doesn’t take into account anything that could happen to either of you after you’ve given birth, there’s just so much out there that could hurt you, our life together is just so hectic and so dangerous and so much, but even removing those factors from the equation there’s still plenty that’s ready and waiting to kill you right in your own home, and—there are just so many confounding factors, Rose, so many unknown variables, literally anything could happen, and I might not be able to stop any of it, not anymore. And that’s just for the stuff I’m not actively screwing up all on my own—”

“Fine, so don’t go swanning off for days on end next time something freaks you out,” Rose bites back. “That’s half the battle right there.”

“Rose, you’re not hearing me—”

“Yes, I am,” Rose retorts. “You’re scared. Of course you are. I’m scared, too. Anyone with half a brain cell is going to be at least a little bit scared over something like this. So you acknowledge that you can’t control everything, make plans where you can, and learn to roll with the punches where you can’t. You don’t fucking desert the person you said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.”

“But I just needed a bit of time, Rose, I never meant—”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant for it to feel like that or not,” Rose snaps back. “That’s how it felt, Doctor. It was like you left me, after telling me you never would again. After you promised. And it hurt.”

The Doctor doesn’t reply to that, just watches her, mouth working like he wants to argue, but the words won’t cooperate. Tears start welling up again in Rose’s eyes, fat and blurry and thick; the Doctor seems to crumple a little at the sight.

“What if I lose you again?” he asks, defeated. “What if something happens, and I lose you both?”

“I don’t know,” Rose tells him honestly. “But we’re safer together, aren’t we? And better together, too.”

At that, something in the Doctor seems to give way. “Yes,” he agrees, his voice hoarse, his face as open and vulnerable as Rose has ever seen it. “I’m sorry,” he adds.

When Rose can’t make any words come out, too busy fighting back tears, whatever resistance remains in the Doctor seems to drain away and he reaches out to pull her close, wrapping his arms around her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, tightening his hug when Rose starts to shake, unable to staunch the flow of tears any longer. “I’m sorry,” he says again over the sounds of her sobs, muffled against his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, over and over, holding her tight while she cries into his shirt. “I won’t leave again. Ever again. I won’t. We’re in this together. I promise,” the Doctor tells her, holding her close. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

Rose clings to him even harder as she cries.

They’re both exhausted by the time they climb into bed later that evening (later, but still early, for them), but that doesn’t stop Rose from turning in the Doctor’s arms to press a hungry kiss to his mouth. It’s a claim that leaves no room for question, and even though Rose knows he wants to—We don’t have to, I’ve been an idiot, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you; she’s heard it all before after a row and she’ll likely hear it all again—the Doctor doesn’t argue. Not this time. This time he meets her kisses in kind, urging her mouth open with his and grabbing her by the chin so he can take bruising control of the kiss.

Relief surges through Rose as he kisses her fiercely, clutching her close. Looks like she’s not the only one who’s starved for comfort tonight.

The Doctor breaks away so he can press a searing-hot kiss to Rose’s jaw, her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breast. Kissing a line down to her navel, the Doctor hooks his fingers in the waistband of her pants and pulls them off, discarding them; a familiar ache swells between Rose’s legs at the sight of him between her thighs, and she slickens at the sensation of his tongue darting out to taste her, but as delicious as that sounds (and as good as it feels, fuck), it isn’t what she wants right now, isn’t what she needs. She urges him back upward so she can feel the reassuring weight of him pressing against her, his cock stiffening between them, his heart hammering against hers.

They don’t always have time to take their clothes off before sex—two years on, and sometimes the need is still so urgent, they’re too impatient to remove anything but the barest essentials—but tonight the Doctor pulls off his boxer briefs and Rose pulls off his tee shirt and they work together to untangle her from her sleep-shirt and it’s such a fucking relief when they slide together, skin-to-skin, Rose’s nipples scraping sharply against his chest, that Rose can’t help but hum in satisfaction. She needs to feel him, needs to feel all of him, her tongue plunging into his mouth as she wraps a hand around his cock and strokes him hard. He pants against her lips and leans his weight to one side so he can slide a hand between them, his fingers plunging slickly inside her as she grinds her clit against the heel of his palm. It’s only a few moments before Rose is urging his cock inside, wrapping her thighs around his waist and arching needfully upward. She doesn’t give either of them time to adjust, but immediately rocks against him, clenching and rutting and clutching at his back as he thrusts into her, swearing under his breath. It doesn’t take long for the climax to start building low in Rose’s belly so she reaches down between them, intent on urging the Doctor along, but he grabs her hand and pins it to the mattress, her fingers gripped tight and slick between his as she comes with a shout and he follows shortly after.

If there’s something a little desperate in his touch tonight, neither of them mentions it.

***

After several days and many many hugs and kisses and apologies and promises and two lush bouquets (picked and purchased by the Doctor, one for Rose (for obvious reasons) and one for Jackie (lest she slap him back into the other universe)), Rose is leaving the obstetrician’s office once again, this time having attended a full and proper appointment (also negotiated by the Doctor, as part of his ongoing penance). But this time, when Rose leaves, she’s armed with a series of diagnostics (all of them proclaiming the absolute normalcy of this pregnancy, no matter how the Doctor scrutinizes them) and a couple of recommendations (to up her iron intake, among other things), and her mother is only glaring at the Doctor the usual amount (which is to say, about 25% of the time). With Jackie in the lead, Rose and the Doctor lingering a few steps behind, Rose isn’t half-tempted to make a joke about the Doctor maintaining minimum safe distance from her mum after the events of the other day, but she knows it’s less about that, and more about how aggressively excited Jackie has allowed herself to become, now that the Doctor’s stopped being a giant prat.

(Excited might be an understatement.)

“Oh, sweetheart. This is all so brilliant. I’m so happy for you,” Jackie squeals over her shoulder at Rose, beaming through sparkling tears that threaten to fall and ruin her makeup. “You’re gonna make such a good mum, I just know it! It’s gonna come to you so natural. Well, I mean, there’s books and things to help out with all of that, and they’re good and all, but it’s about instinct, too, and you’ve got that in spades.

“And I absolutely can’t wait to start buying you things. Are you gonna ask about the sex? No, you don’t care about that,” Jackie says dismissively before either Rose or the Doctor has a chance to reply, which is just as well, as this conversation hasn’t actually involved anyone besides Jackie for some time now. “Oh, I do hope the little one likes girly things, though,” she continues. “Lord knows I love your brother, but he’s a bit rough-and-tumble, isn’t he, and I sort of miss all the ruffles and princess things. Don’t get me wrong, he loves a good princess movie just like you did, got all the dolls and stuff, but he’s not much on the dressing-up, and I would just adore the chance to buy some cute little dresses again, and, oh my goodness, Rose, I just can’t believe it, I’m gonna be a grandmum, you’re gonna have a baby—”

Jackie rounds the corner ahead and Rose is surprised to feel a tug on her hand the second Jackie disappears from sight. It’s the Doctor, of course, pulling her back toward him, but when Rose turns to look at him, a question hovering on her lips, he just pulls her gently forward so he can wrap his arms around her, trapping her in a snug embrace.

Her heart pounds in her chest, but not unpleasantly. Emotion swells in her throat as her arms wind back around him, fists clenching in his shirt. His arms tighten around her, almost uncomfortably so. Rose feels rather than hears his breath leaving him, long and slow and measured and just short of reverent. Like a man in prayer. After a moment, he spreads a hand between them, palm over her belly, like it’s just now occurring to him exactly what’s happening, what they’ve started together here, the sheer enormity of it all. He plants a kiss against her head, burying his face in her hair after. Rose tries to remember if she’s ever seen him act quite so tender as this, before.

The moment is over almost as quickly as it begins; soon enough the Doctor is springing away and tugging Rose along by the hand, propelling the two of them toward Jackie, like nothing just happened. But when Rose squeezes his hand (in comfort or solidarity or reassurance; she’s not sure and she’s not sure it matters anyway), he squeezes back, tightly.

“...and oh, do you remember that little garden dress you had once upon a time, the pink gingham with the roses, and the little white patent shoes?” Jackie is saying now, as she waits for the lift in front of them. “You were a vision, Rose. An absolute vision. All the other mums thought so. You were such a pretty little girl. A pretty baby, too. You know how some babies are ugly but no one talks about it? Sort of look like creepy little Gollum types? Well that weren’t you, to be sure. And just look at you now, you’re already glowing and everything, did you know that?” she asks, glancing back at Rose once again with a smile. “Pregnancy’ll do wonders for your skin. Did for me, anyway. Beverly wasn’t so lucky—d’you remember how she puffed up like a walrus, got the eczema all over? Not you, though. You look like one of them Renaissance paintings. Or like an angel, even!”

“Oh my god, Mum,” Rose laughs. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, someone’s got to say the cheesy things. Lord knows he won’t,” says Jackie, fixing the Doctor with a meaningful stare.

“I’m just waiting for the right moment,” the Doctor replies pleasantly. “As, for instance, the half-second you stop talking long enough to draw breath.”

Jackie flashes a dirty look his way and Rose laughs.

***

Everything is proceeding normally for a standard human pregnancy (almost painfully normally, really, even as the Doctor checks and double-checks and triple-checks everything from Rose’s sodium levels to the babyproof latches he’s already installed on all of the cabinet doors to the ambient temperature in each and every room Rose enters because You’re basically a greenhouse, Rose, a greenhouse growing a person instead of plants, and everyone knows greenhouses have to be kept at the optimum temperature in order to flourish), right up to the first day Rose notices her belly, by way of trying to fasten her trousers over it. They do not, of course, fasten, because see above, re: belly.

“Welp,” she says, slouching into the nursery with a sigh. It really is a lovely nursery, if a bit yellow, but the Doctor has insisted that yellow is the optimum color for budding baby TARDISes and larval humans, and this is a hill Rose is perfectly content to not-die-on. “I’m officially getting fat,” Rose announces.

The Doctor tuts in disapproval but doesn’t look up from his task, carefully pruning wayward growths on the TARDIS coral in front of him. “Three additional kilograms hardly qualifies as getting fat,” he says mildly, “although even if it did, and even if you were, it wouldn’t be cause for concern unless there was a non-pregnancy-related underlying health condition we needed to address.”

“Just the condition of my fat,” Rose replies cheerfully.

The Doctor spares his focus just long enough to roll his eyes, the motion even more comical and exaggerated than usual thanks to his work-goggles. “You’re incubating a whole entire person inside of your person, Rose. That’s bound to put on some extra weight on you, even before you start taking into account things like fluid retention and nutrient stores.”

“Fluid retention and nutrient stores. Way to pique a girl’s appetite,” teases Rose.

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit peckish, myself,” the Doctor admits as he works. “What are you thinking? Takeaway? Pizza? Your mum’s fish pie is in the fridge but I’m not certain that qualifies as food so much as kindling.”

Rose chuckles a little. “You really don’t mind?” she asks, scuffing a bare foot restlessly over the floor.

“Not at all. Getting rid of that pie would be doing the world a favor.”

“No,” Rose laughs, the sound more genuine this time. “Not that.”

“What, then?”

“You know. That I’m gonna get all…”

The Doctor piques an eyebrow in suspicion, and rather than risk another lecture by uttering the word aloud, Rose finishes her sentence in pantomime, outlining a large belly in front of her. He stares at her blankly in response, eyes blinking owlishly behind their protective goggles.

Rose sighs. “I’m gonna get big, Doctor,” she says. “Like a big belly. Maybe really big.”

He nods. “Probably. Your point?”

Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, Rose focuses on her foot instead, tracing invisible patterns over the floor. “Just, you know,” she says softly. “Other blokes haven’t cared for it all that much, when I gain weight.”

“That’s because other blokes are idiots,” the Doctor announces, all smiles and bouncy cheer. “Fortunately you’re not stuck in this with any of them,” he continues, pulling off his goggles. “You’re stuck in this with me. And I happen to have very correct opinions about that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rose laughs, something loosening in her shoulders, the release of tension she wasn’t even aware was there.

“Oh, yes,” he says, sauntering over to Rose with his hands shoved lazily in his pockets. “All excellent opinions, each and every one of them. Many of them even backed up by science!”

Rose grins at him. “And when my belly gets so big that I can’t tie my own shoes anymore, or shave my legs?”

“Then we’ll just have to get you shoes that don’t need tying, won’t we? Or I’ll tie them for you. And a hairy leg or two never hurt anyone, but if it would make you feel better, I can always shave your legs.”

“Really?”

He shrugs again. “Really. How hard can it be?”

Shaking her head, her grin broadening until she can’t take it anymore, Rose pushes up on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips. The Doctor lets out a happy little hum against her mouth and his hands leave his pockets to grasp her by the hips, his thumbs tracing a path to the front of her waistband, where the zipper-teeth won’t quite meet and the button only barely won’t latch.

“Yeah,” says Rose, glancing downward. “I’m gonna need new trousers soon.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I quite like them like this,” replies the Doctor, pulling the zipper down until the top of her pants peeks out. “It’s like a little preview.”

“Cad,” Rose teases.

“You’re not wrong,” the Doctor says thoughtfully, before looking back up at her, his eyes full of mischief. “I am, for instance, thinking about how much better your trousers would look on the floor.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rose asks, a shy smile blossoming across her face. His grin, by contrast, is long and slow and wicked, like a bolt of liquid warmth sent straight between Rose’s thighs.

“Oh, yes,” says the Doctor, and he kisses her.

It’s really a very convincing argument.

***

Roughly twenty weeks in, and really, Rose can put up with most of this nonsense—granted, the dizziness isn’t fun, the headaches aren’t enjoyable either, the ever-swelling belly makes dressing for the day officially A Challenge™, the heartburn is bordering on intolerable, the morning sickness is more of an any-part-of-the-day sickness, and the leg cramps are no walk in the park either (although a walk in the park does at least help a little)—but what she really can’t stand are these intermittent bursts of bloody awful hormones.

“What’s wrong?” the Doctor asks in alarm the moment she steps through the front door, sniffling and snuffling and trying to hide her tears and her gross blotchy face from the Doctor and doing it very, very badly. “Rose? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffles as she shucks her boots, fully aware of how pathetic she sounds, and hating herself for it.

“Are you sure?” asks the Doctor, his face pinched in concern.

“Yes,” she grumbles, but the Doctor doesn’t seem convinced.

“Are you, though?” he presses, following her as she slumps her way into the kitchen, lowering herself into a dining-room chair. “You’ve been crying. That indicates distress. You’re not hurt, are you? You’re not injured? You’re not sick?”

“I’m fine,” Rose mutters again.

“Are you certain? How’s your temperature? When did you last eat? What did you last eat? You didn’t ingest any deli meat or sushi or come into contact with any cat litter or anything else potentially carrying toxoplasmosis? Are you experiencing any unusual aches or pains? Fluctuations in heartrate? Changes in vaginal discharge—?”

“I said I’m fine!” Rose snaps at him.

The Doctor’s eyes widen, but he stops talking, stops fretting. “Right, you did,” he says quietly, scratching the back of his neck. He steps back and away, his face carefully blank. “Sorry.”

Guilt crashes into Rose like a freight train and just like that, the tears start welling up in her eyes again. “No, I’m sorry,” she says, lower lip trembling, voice watery. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry. I just…” she tries to say, and cuts herself off with a sniffle. “I just…”

The Doctor watches her from a safe distance. “Do you need to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t know. It’s just—god, it’s just stupid stuff, but it’s like my brain is going absolutely mad over it,” Rose blurts out. “Just stuff like, they were working on the lift, so I had to use the stairs, and I spilled my tea on the way back down, spilled it all over my shirt—” and she gestures at the front of her blouse, which is indeed no longer pale pink, but now light brown with the ghosts of teastains past— “and that was right before we had that big meeting with Ripley’s team and the French delegates, and I didn’t have anything else to change into, so I had to go in to this big important meeting looking like a total nightmare, and the meeting went on for so fucking long, it was hours, I had to get up to wee like five times.”

She absentmindedly rubs her growing belly-bump, trying to calm herself. “I really liked this shirt,” she continues, sniffling. “One of the only maternity shirts that doesn’t just look like a horrid flowery muumuu. S’like, you get pregnant, and you’re not allowed to try to look pretty any more. You’ve served your purpose, you’re not a woman anymore, now you’re just a whale on a one-way-train to Frumpy Town. Not like I care what other people think but I still want to look in the mirror and be happy with what I see, you know? And god, the taxi smelled so badly of smoke I thought I was going to vomit. That sort of thing never used to bother me, but so many smells do, these days. And I’m a puffy horrid mess, and my hair’s doing funny things, and everything aches, and I know nothing’s wrong, not really, but sometimes it’s like there’s this high-pitched squeal in my head screaming that everything’s bad and awful and scary all the time but I can’t take my anxiety meds anymore cos of the pregnancy—and—and—”

She can feel her face crumpling with effort, straining not to burst into the world’s ugliest wettest snottiest tears right now. “—and I just remembered I ate the last of the raspberry lollies last night,” she says plaintively, her mouth twisting in abject misery. “So we’re out.”

“No, we’re not.”

Rose hiccups, thumbing tears off her cheeks. “What?” she asks thickly.

“We’re not out,” says the Doctor, gesturing to the fridge. “I picked some up on my way home.”

Blinking rapidly, Rose bites her lower lip, hardly daring to hope. “Really?”

“Yeah. I thought you might like a lolly or two after dinner, so I made a stop.” He walks over to the refrigerator, pulls open the freezer door, and plucks out a lolly, extending it her way. “D’you want one now?”

Now Rose’s eyes are filling with tears for a completely different reason, her vision growing suddenly blurry and wet as she fights back the pressure with a sob. Through the haze, she can just barely make out the worry spreading across the Doctor’s face.

“Rose?” he asks, panicked, like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong.

“I love you,” bursts out of Rose’s mouth. She launches herself out of the chair and toward the Doctor, snatching the lolly out of his hand and ripping off its plastic wrapping so she can take a huge bite. And oh—

Oh.

Oh god, it’s good.

The scent of sweet raspberry hits her nostrils, first, with an ice-cold bite that predicts the joys to come. She bites into the treat and her eyes shutter at the delicious tartness of the juices, the cold of the ice, the satisfying crunch-slush of it all. Sweet and tart and cold all sing a delightful harmony in her mouth, washing away the dregs of the unhappy world outside, soothing her aches and pains, painting her mind with calm. Another bite floods her veins with sugary pleasure and cool relief in equal turns, and Rose chokes back tears of pure, unfettered joy.

“I love you so much,” she sobs.

“Just to be clear,” says the Doctor, a small smile spreading wryly over his face. “Are you talking to the lolly right now, or me?”

“Yes,” says Rose, before taking another bite.

***

She doesn’t know if she’s ever seen his eyes grow so comically wide before.

“No,” he chokes out amidst the sirens wailing all around them, waving smoke out of his eyes as he heaves himself up from the debris-strewn floor. “Rose, you shouldn’t have—”

“What?” Rose shoots back, hoisting the giant gun high on her hip. “Come to save your skinny arse?”

“You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me!” the Doctor snaps. “Especially right now!”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have surrendered yourself to hostile forces, so I guess neither of us got what we wanted, huh?”

The Doctor glares at her. “I did what I had to! You, on the other hand—”

“Look, can we argue about all this later?” Rose interrupts, rolling her eyes. She gestures to the door behind her (rather, the “door” she just forcefully improvised thanks to a blast from her giant gun). “My back’s starting to hurt,” she complains.

“Which is precisely why you should have stayed put!” the Doctor retorts, anxiously running his hands through his hair. “I told you this would happen, Rose. I told you people would come after you and the baby—!”

“So what, you decide to offer yourself up instead? Without even talking to me about it?”

“Yes!” he shouts, glaring as he stands over her. “I will do whatever I have to if it keeps you safe, and I don’t require your approval and I sure as hell don’t require your permission! Do you underst—”

An explosion rocks the ship, knocking the Doctor flat against the wall behind him. Her belly big and heavy as it is, Rose’s low center of gravity keeps her pretty well-grounded; she doesn’t budge.

“Right,” she says, as nonchalantly as she can while the ship burns and shakes all around them, “d’you want to keep arguing, or would you maybe like to escape the burning spaceship with your very, very pregnant girlfriend?”

He’s still glaring at her, but there’s a smile threatening to tug at the corner of his mouth now. “Fine,” he says grudgingly, pushing off the wall. “But only because you’re very compelling at eight months pregnant, with a giant weapon.”

Rose laughs, swiveling the gun out of the way so she can plant a hard kiss against the Doctor’s lips. He tastes like soot and dirt and sweat and god, she’s so glad he’s all right. That he’s going to be safe, soon. With her.

“I love you too,” she says, and she grabs his hand, and they run.

***

It isn’t like they show it in the movies—or it isn’t quite like that, rather. It takes so much longer, and it’s so much messier, and it’s loud and then quiet and frantic and then calm and there’s sweat and blood and pain but there’s elation, too, even before the nurses place the baby in her arms. It’s all compounded when Rose looks down, seeing her child for the first time, all red in the cheeks, ten little coiled fingers and ten little pruny toes and eyes screwed shut and mouth crying out against the harsh light and sound of this strange new world. Rose holds the wailing baby close and her heart swells so much she’s almost surprised her ribcage isn’t cracked from the force of it.

Tutting through her happy tears, Jackie rubs the baby’s back, murmuring words of reassurance, much like she has been throughout the last several hours. Not for the first time, Rose is immensely grateful for her mother’s attention and support. Jackie was surprisingly calm throughout the entire ordeal. She’s surprisingly soft, now, in a way Rose isn’t sure she’s ever seen her before. Being a grandmother suits her, Rose thinks.

Slowly, the baby quiets and relaxes, heavy and solid against Rose’s chest. She smiles. It’s almost too much to bear, all the love that fills her at the sight of this child. She wonders if the Doctor will feel the same way.

(She is not upset that he’s late. He’s been doing so much better about all this sort of thing these last few months; he wouldn’t miss this without a good reason. It’s simply a matter of when he arrives, she tells herself. When. Not if.)

Rose has half-started dozing off when she finally hears his voice.

“Where is she?” his voice echoes loudly in the hall outside. “Is she all right? Did I miss it? Did—”

The door swings open and there stands the Doctor, mouth open and hair mussed and clothes totally disheveled. Rose watches as he frantically takes it all in—the hospital bed, Rose in the hospital bed, Rose in the hospital bed with a tiny new baby slumbering heavily in her arms.

“You’re here,” Rose says, smiling, her voice dreamy and soft.

The Doctor’s mouth closes and his throat constricts, Adam’s apple bobbing with emotion. His eyes flicker up to Rose’s, and he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, she can see it written across his face as plain as day—but he doesn’t seem able to push the words out. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, nervous and unsure.

Next to the bed, Jackie pats Rose’s hand. “I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?” she says, kissing Rose’s forehead before she rises. On her way out the door, she stops long enough to give the Doctor a quick hug, pecking him on the cheek for good measure afterward. “Congratulations, dad,” she says, her voice fond.

The Doctor can’t seem to respond, can’t even seem to move, his feet glued to their spot on the floor for several long seconds after Jackie leaves. His gaze lingers on the baby, like he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing, somehow, or maybe he just can’t believe it.

“Come on in,” Rose teases. “Stay a while.”

Shaking himself, the Doctor starts. “Rose, I’m so sorry,” he rushes. “I had to deal with these people, these bloody water pirates, and they had all these warships and I met this robot worm and he knew who I was somehow and I got dropped in the ocean and I lost my mobile and I had to steal a boat and I might’ve shot a pirate in the foot and—”

“Doctor?” says Rose, patiently.

“Yes?”

“Tell me about it later?”

“Of course.” He grimaces. “Rose, I really am sorry.”

“I know.” She smiles. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not, though. I should have been here.”

Her heart breaks for him a little. “You should have been out saving the world,” Rose tells him gently.

He looks very much like he doesn’t believe her.

“You didn’t miss much, anyway,” Rose adds. “Just the gross stuff. I actually don’t mind you missing that bit, don’t much fancy you seeing me bleeding everywhere or pooing the bed.”

“Are you all right?” the Doctor asks, pushing a hand anxiously through his hair, which only serves to muss it even further.

Rose nods. “They gave me drugs for the pain. I think it’s the loveliest I’ve ever felt.”

The Doctor laughs humorlessly. “But overall, you’re all right?”

“Yeah, Doctor. I’m fine. I’m gonna be sore for a while. But I’m okay. Really.”

“Okay. Okay. Good. And—”

The Doctor swallows hard, his gaze flickering between Rose and the baby. “And, the child...?”

“Also fine. Would probably like to be called something besides the child, though.”

Relaxing a little, the Doctor laughs again and the sound has a little more warmth this time. “I seem to recall that I generated a good deal of names, only for each of them to be shot down,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s got to be something people can pronounce. Human people,” Rose adds before the Doctor can interject. “From Earth. In this century.”

“Cassiopeia’s a perfectly pronounceable name!”

“It’s a mouthful,” Rose laughs.

“And it lends itself very well to diminutives. Cassie, Cass, Cas,” the Doctor continues, counting off a finger for each. “Peia. Cassio.”

“Whatever. Just shut up and get over here, yeah?”

The Doctor smiles. “Yeah,” he says, and he bridges the distance between them, dipping down so he can frame Rose’s face in his hands and pull her in for a kiss. It’s only a little desperate, his hold on her, the slight tremor in his hands; Rose answers by pouring as much love and reassurance into the kiss as she possibly can.

She’s surprised to realize she’s shaking just a little, herself.

After a moment, the Doctor breaks the kiss, one hand cradling the back of her head, his forehead pressed to hers. “I really am sorry,” he says softly.

Nodding, Rose thinks that this would be a good time to reassure him again, let him know he’s forgiven, that what really matters is he’s here now, and he keeps being here. That she knows he needs her, and that’s all right. She needs him, too.

“Hold me?” she says instead, her voice small.

Wordlessly, the Doctor shifts back, lowering the siderail of the bed. Rose expects him to simply lean over the side for a little half-cuddle and is pleasantly surprised when he toes off his shoes and clambers into the bed with her instead, propping himself up on one arm so he can snuggle up against her side, pressing fully against her. The weight of him next to her is comforting, soothing any residual uncertainty or anxiety that might have been lurking in the corners of her mind, and Rose nestles into him gratefully, relishing his solid warmth. She watches him as he reaches out, almost hesitantly, to touch the baby sleeping on her chest, safe and snug between them both.

He gently strokes the baby’s head, his face alight with a quiet wonder, not unlike the expression he wears when stepping onto the surface of a new planet for the first time, Rose thinks. But his gaze is so much tenderer than she ever saw it, any of those times. Soft and open and a little afraid but still so, so full of wonder and awe.

God, she loves him so much.

“You almost forget how small they are,” the Doctor says softly, reaching down to one of the baby’s hands, inspecting five little tight-coiled fingers. “Can you believe all the potential packed inside that tiny little body?”

“It’s pretty incredible,” Rose agrees.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was blinking tears out of his eyes as he turns to bury his face in her hair. “You’re incredible,” he says, his voice thick.

Happy contentedness fills Rose’s head like a candyfloss-cloud. “You’re not so bad, yourself,” she says sleepily, and the Doctor chuckles, wiping his eyes.

He loops his arm around her and the baby both, holding them close. He’s unusually quiet as he watches the baby sleep, and Rose wonders if his thoughts are anything to match. Maybe he’s cataloguing everything about their child, about the downy-soft head and warm red cheeks and little button nose, filing every detail away in that massive memory of his, his mind already racing with revelations about the past, how they’ll inform plans and ideas for the future. Or maybe he’s just allowing himself to be present, for once, in the here and the now, with Rose and the baby, no ghosts or worries or unspoken nightmares haunting him for just a handful of moments. Maybe he’s allowing himself these rare few minutes of quiet calm, before the world starts spinning again.

“How long are you gonna stay with us?” Rose murmurs sleepily, and the Doctor’s hold on her tightens.

“Forever,” he says.

******

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snusbandxknifewife · 4 years

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Jurdanweek2020 Day 2 pregnancy/labor

Hey y’all so this is based on the story of my birth, because I’ll be damned if my mother didn’t play the part of Jude Duarte while my father acted as Cardan. In this fic, Jude is so sure that their daughter won’t be born on her due date, that she drags Cardan to the mortal world. Things go downhill quickly.

“Cardan shut the fuck up, we are fine!”

Cardan Greenbriar had tried for hours to convince his very stubborn—very pregnant—wife that maybe a trip to the mortal world this close to her due date wasn’t the wisest idea. Naturally, she stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her swollen belly and that was that, off to the mortal world they went.

“Jude, my love, will you at least let me carry your purse?” He would keep trying to help her until she finally snapped and killed him.

Jude wasn’t happy about having to carry a purse now, but she was unable to lean down to strap a knife to her thigh and her breasts had grown too large for her to force a dagger between them without risking injury, so a handbag was her only option to carry her weaponry. Cardan, wisely, had long since decided that questioning his wife’s ability to even wield a knife in her current state wasn’t the smartest move.

She huffed and shoved the bag square into the center of his chest before turning on her heel and waddling her way down the baby aisle of the local Target.

She had no mortal maternity clothing, so she’d settled for wearing a simple dress of flowing silk, held closed by a belt just under her breast and giving way to the large belly that she always kept one protective hand on. Cardan walked closely behind her, his mortal sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor as he tried not to remind himself that this was very stupid.

Jude Duarte Greenbriar, his wife and the High Queen of Elfhame, had given new meaning to the term stubborn today. As the entire palace tittered with excitement over it being the baby’s due date—she would forever curse herself for sharing that information from her human OBGYN—she’d lost her cool. A strongly worded letter had been sent to every one in her family and any courtier or guard close enough to the royal chambers could hear her screaming at her husband about how “THE BABY WILL NOT BE COMING TODAY SO EVERYBODY CAN JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

Then she’d decided that they needed something called a “pacifier,” whatever that was, and next thing he knew they were walking into Target.

Jude had wanted to go alone, but Cardan had been wise enough to insist that Fand and the Bomb accompany them. She’d finally given in, but only once they’d promised to stay out of sight the entire time.

He was, naturally, fucking panicking. Today was their daughter’s due date, and now that Jude had gone and told everyone off, all their family and friends would be preparing for the upcoming Christmas festivities, set for two weeks in the future. They had no way to get in contact with anyone if the worst were to happen.

Jude picked out a set of pink pacifiers with different zoo animals drawn on them. Evidently unsatisfied, she then set about grabbing every baby blanket and stuffed toy she could possibly reach. Cardan was bemused, but chose to hold everything she handed him, rather than fight her.

“Do we need diapers?” She asked, both hands under her belly as she looked over her shoulder.

“Our baby will be fae,” he reminded her. “No need to worry about all that.”

He couldn’t help his snort of laughter as she looked heavenward and thanked the gods.

Then she was back on her quest, looking for something or another that they suddenly, desperately needed for the baby, despite her not even knowing it had existed a few minutes ago. When her eyes catch on a baby pink stuffed lion on the top shelf, she got up on her tippy toes and reached for it, her fingers just barely brushing against its little feet.

Cardan, seeing his wife struggling and being comically taller than her, reached over and plucked the little toy with ease, not noticing how Jude froze when he did.

Her face twisted in anger and disgust and she stomped her foot once more. He, thinking he had somehow offended her by helping her out, was halfway through apologizing before she loudly announced that she thought she’d just peed herself and he needed to go get her new panties while she went to the bathroom.

She left in a flurry of silk skirts and wild hair, headed for the woman’s restroom and leaving her poor husband behind with an armful of baby products and a rogue thought about how uncomfortable it must be for mortals to have to do things like go to the bathroom.

After so long with his Jude, he had come to love all her mortal quirks. Her rounded ears were his favorite part of her body and her dulled senses made it all the easier to surprise her. But he still found himself occasionally wishing that she wasn’t a mortal, now solely because he saw all the discomfort it brought her. Pregnancy had kept her sick and cranky for nine full months. He’d never known a fae mother to have such terrible morning sickness, and he had no idea how mortal women did anything while pregnant, given how often they had to pee.

“I’ll get her the panties.” He about jumped out of his skin when the Bomb popped up behind him, like she’d been lurking just one aisle over and had heard everything.

By this point in the pregnancy, he’d long since learned when he just needed to shut up and go with the flow, so he went about purchasing all the new baby products with a few leaves glamoured to look like mortal money. When he looked up, Target bags hanging from his fingers and handbag firmly situated on his shoulder, his wife was waiting by the exit with her arms crossed.

“The Bomb promised to stay away,” she explained with a scowl. “Why’d she bring me panties?”

“She promised to stay out of sight,” he countered as lovingly as he could in an effort to calm her. “I’d say, as long as she didn’t come in the stall with you, she kept her promise.”

He transferred all the bags to one hand so he could grab hers. Jude, scowl still plastered across her face, took his hand and led him out of the Target.

“I want donuts.” She switched her direction mid-step and started stalking down the sidewalk towards the little donut shop in the same plaza as the Target.

Cardan sat across from her at a two-person table in the donut shop for close to an hour, just watching as she angrily ate three glazed donuts. He’d left their shopping bags outside for Fand to grab and have sent back to Elfhame.

It was as he watched Jude eat her third donut that he began to sense something was amiss. Every so often, his darling little demon of a wife would get inexplicably angrier, her brow furrowing and her nostrils flaring and her teeth grinding down. Then, after a minute or so, she’d go back to her calmer level of pissed off.

As Jude announced that she wanted to go buy something called “pads” for after the baby’s birth, Cardan started paying more attention. He grabbed her handbag and kept his other hand firmly on the small of her back, feeling how she’d tense up for a few minutes and then go back to normal.

Holding Jude’s brand new supply of extra absorbent pads, and the few extra things she’d spent an hour dragging him around the store for, Cardan fully began to panic. Jude’s episodes were getting longer and closer together.

He’d done enough reading to know she was having contractions, and he’d done enough reading to know that when you have contractions two minutes apart, you aren’t getting on a ragwort steed and making it back to Elfhame.

When Jude went to the bathroom again, Cardan was ready for the Bomb.

“She’s in labor,” they announced simultaneously.

“Send word to her sisters and have the healers ready for when we return.” Cardan let out a sigh. “I think we’re having this baby in the mortal world.”

“I’ll call Vivienne.” Just like that, the Bomb was gone.

Cardan could fall to his knees and weep with relief at the reminder that Vivienne lived close. She was only a few minute’s drive away, she would know the way to the hospital, she’d be able to help him get Jude in the damn car.

By the time Jude was out of the bathroom, Vivi had broken a minimum of seven laws to get to them and she was waiting outside the front door, heavy parka pulled up over her pointed ears and dark sunglasses blocking her cat eyes.

“What’s all this?” Jude looked ready to murder Cardan, and he didn’t doubt she could do it even with him having all her knives. “Cardan, I wanted to be alone!”

“Jude, you’re in labor,” he announced, doing his best to keep his voice calm. Internally he was losing it, but he didn’t think that letting her see that would help the situation.

“No I’m no—“ she breaks off with a growl, her face contorting in anger right on time with the counting in Cardan’s head. From his reading and the stories he’d heard, he expected tears or screaming when her contractions got this bad, not to have her hide her pain behind a wall of pure fury.

He opened the car door and threw their shopping bags in, offering a hand to his wife and desperately trying to coerce her into the car. “Darling please, we need to get to the hospital. I don’t know how to deliver a child, and I don’t plan on finding out today.”

“They’re just Braxton-Hicks,” she tries again, almost whining. “I’m not having the baby today!”

“Baby says otherwise,” Vivi calls out from the front seat as Jude once again tenses. “Now get in the damn car, it’s a fifteen minute ride to the hospital.”

“We can’t go to the hospital!” Jude digs in her heels and looks to Cardan with wide eyes, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that they were in the mortal world. “Cardan, our baby has pointed ears and a tail!”

They’d been going to regular OBGYN appointments and seeing ultrasounds of the baby so they’d have an idea of what animal characteristic their child would present, glamouring the doctor after every visit. They knew that their little girl had a tail like her daddy. That would be a fucking problem if the hospital noticed.

“You focus on the hard part and leave the glamouring to me, darling,” he said with a kiss to her forehead.

Vivi had to threaten to knock her out and drag her into the backseat before she finally gave up and climbed in, grumbling the whole time.

“Cardan, start timing.” Vivi threw an old wristwatch over her shoulder and he caught it mid-air, marking the time and then staring at his wife as his sister-in-law did her very best to break the sound barrier with a beat-up SUV.

By the time they made it to the hospital, Jude was silent, save for her episodes of heavy breathing. A minute and a half apart now.

They pulled up to the women’s center and Cardan picked his wife up like she weighed no more than a feather. Vivi sped off, promising to go pick up Heather and return with food and a baby bag, since they were going to be in for the long haul.

Cardan made it to the maternity ward check in and was suddenly faced with the fact that he had literally no idea what to do here. Back in Elfhame, Jude would’ve had the baby in the comfort of their private rooms, with healers waiting on her hand and foot. The sterile smell and white walls of this mortal hospital made him infinitely more nervous than the comfort of their home would’ve.

“Hello sir,” the receptionist lady started, eyeing how he held his wife and how she didn’t seem at all panicked, and deciding that she has another father who had no clue what’s going on. Her tone was somewhere between soothing and mocking, like she’d dealt with this sort of thing all day. “If you’d like to fill out these forms—“

“My wife’s contractions are a minute and a half apart,” he cut her off, his fear somehow taking a backseat and his voice coming out with all the authority of a High King.

The receptionist’s eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

He maneuvered Jude so he could throw the watch down on the desk. Then he counted down from five and, right on time, Jude tensed with a contraction.

Then it was a flurry of movement, the receptionist throwing the papers to the side and calling for a wheelchair as Cardan stood dumbfounded. A nurse took Jude from his arms and settled her in a wheelchair before running through a set of double doors, leaving him to chase after her.

They ended up in what looked like a little sitting room with a table in the center. Then, as he watched, the nurse hit a few buttons in the wall and the whole room transformed. The two chairs pulled away from the table and the table unfolded into a bed, lowering down enough for Jude to climb up.

His wife was far past claiming that the baby wouldn’t be coming today. She’d gone somewhere within herself, both hands on her belly and focus written in every line on her face.

He helped the nurse undress her and tied her into a hospital gown while they strapped her into a bazillion different monitors. Soon, her heartbeat filled the room and he was watching all the screens, utterly terrified by his confusion.

“Can you give a urine sample?” A small nurse with a sickeningly fake grin asked, holding up a little plastic cup.

“Not with my baby’s head in the way,” Jude grunted in response, her teeth grinding down and one of her hands reaching for her husband’s. “Can you get the doctor?”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, sweetie, let’s see how far along you are.” Cardan’s brow twitched at the offhanded way she spoke to his wife and he found himself gripping her hand harder to keep her from swinging for the nurse as the woman bent under the blanket, pulling Jude’s knees apart.

She was down there for a few seconds before popping back up, that smile even bigger as she said, “you’re at about nine centimeters. Don’t you worry at all, I’ll go get the doctor!”

Cardan, unaccustomed to speaking to many mortals, would’ve never thought twice about her words, if it weren’t for the way Jude snorted at the nurse all but sprinted out of the room.

“She’s lying,” Jude observed, sounding callous.

“My love?” He turned to her, new fear sprouting in his stomach.

“The nurse is lying about how dilated I am.” She nodded after where the woman had run out. “They have you start pushing at ten. She checked me and then said I was a nine and ran. That’s what they tell you when you’re at a ten and the doctor isn’t here.”

That comment leaves his mouth tasting like ash and she must see something amusing in the way his face changes, because she gives a little laugh.

For the next ten minutes or so, nobody came in except for one nurse who tried to force Jude again to give a urine sample, only getting blood and one pissed off couple for her efforts.

Jude turned onto her left side and Cardan sat on the bed by her hip, fingers carding through her hair and opposite hand rubbing her back to help her through a contraction.

They were like this when the door slammed open and a man, wearing a suit that most definitely wasn’t even close to sterile scrubs, ran in.

“I’ll be right back!” His hair was wild and his jacket half off as he held out both hands, almost like he was telling them both to wait. Just that quickly, he was gone again.

“What in the hell—“ Jude broke off with a groan and her heart rate spiked. Cardan may not know a lot, but he wasn’t that stupid, he knew this baby was coming soon.

A minute or so later, the door crashed open again and the doctor skidded into the room sideways, his scrubs pulled up to his elbows and a nurse tying on his cap as he finished adjusting one of his gloves.

“Let’s have a baby!”

Cardan watched in fascination as the man picked up what looked like a magic wand with a bulb on the end. He held it high above his head and pressed a button, causing the bulb to flash and all the lights to come out of the ceiling and angle towards the wand. The doctor then ordered the nurses to get Jude on her back and aimed the lights between her legs.

“Jude, did you see that?” Cardan asked, his jaw on the floor as he battled between awe at mortal technology and amusement at how his wife was now lit up like a stage. “The lights followed him!”

“I’m a little busy!” Jude hissed back and Cardan suddenly remembered that, oh yeah, his wife was literally in labor, and he should probably be paying attention to that instead of the lights.

“Shit, sorry!” He gripped her hand once more and kissed her forehead.

The whole room was alive with movement as the doctor got Jude in the right position and she began to push. One nurse was watching the monitors, keeping an eye on both mom and baby. Another was trying to force Jude to take some oral medication called Tylenol, because she had nothing to ease her pain, and Jude was batting her away. A third nurse held an oxygen mask to Jude’s face and kept one of her legs back.

Cardan held his wife’s hand and kept his other hand on her knee. He tuned into her, watching how a preternatural calm took over. The only thing giving away her pain was how she was nearly breaking his hand with every contraction.

He knew that a lot of woman were in labor for a long time, and that some pushed for hours, so this all seemed to be moving quite quickly. He kept his eyes on her face, on how focused she was on their baby. She still wasn’t crying, wasn’t screaming in pain. She just looked angry with every push, like she was using her fury to keep her cool in the situation.

Then something changed, just a little. She’d been pushing too hard, hadn’t stopped long enough to recover. For just one moment, Cardan saw fear flit across her face.

“I can’t breathe!” Cardan’s heart leapt as his wife cried out and he frantically ran through his options, trying to find something, anything to do to help her.

Then the nurse with the oxygen mask made a mistake.

“I just don’t think you’re trying very hard,” she snapped at Jude. It was the same woman who’d lied about how dilated Jude was.

Pure, unadulterated rage grew from the very pit of his stomach, but he didn’t get the chance to unleash it. Instead, he watched his wife’s eyes go murderous, her face go as blank as it did every time she held a knife to someone’s throat.

She stopped pushing and sat up, raising one finger to point at the nurse’s forehead like a witch laying a curse.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

It was the loudest he’d ever heard her scream, and her shout was a low bark instead of a shrill order. She was a general ordering a court marshall, the High Queen ordering an execution, not a woman going through the pain of childbirth.

The nurse fell back in shock, turning to him like she expected him to counteract his wife’s wishes.

“Get the fuck out!” He waved a hand to the door and made a face at the very idea that he’d even think of going against his wife’s word when she was busy birthing his daughter. How fucking dare this woman?

The nurse, now completely flabbergasted, turned to the doctor, who had only looked up when he heard the screaming. He took one look at Jude’s face and told the nurse to get the fuck out.

Jude grabbed the oxygen mask from the nurse as she left and held it to her own face, turning back to the ordeal of childbirth with twice the ferocity of before. It wasn’t a minute afterwards that the crying of their child filled the room.

Cardan threw himself full-force into glamouring away their daughter’s ears and her tail, a short little tail of fluffy black fur, sticking out like a sore thumb the way a kitten’s tail always does. The nurse and doctor didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary as they laid the little girl on Jude’s chest and asked Cardan to cut the cord.

She had a shock of midnight black hair just like her father and she certainly shared her mother’s temper as she angrily cried her little heart out, her face turning red.

Jude didn’t relax as they took her away to clean and measure her. She stayed focused on the rest of the birth, nodding her head to Cardan to tell him to keep an eye on their daughter.

It wasn’t until the little girl was weighed and cleaned and wrapped in a blanket that Jude keyed into the fact that it was over, their baby was here. She took the child in her arms again and wept, holding her as close as she could.

Cardan reaches a finger out, running it over the tiny pointed ear that only he and Jude could see. In response, the baby flexed her little hand and showed that she had the claws of a housecat.

His heart swelled with an emotion he couldn’t really describe as he took in the sight of his wife and daughter, his two girls.

The next two hours consisted of Vivi and Heather showing up, the Bomb in tow with a carriage to take them home since there was absolutely no way Jude was getting on a ragwort horse in her state. Vivi couldn’t believe that the baby was already there, just a half hour after she’d dropped Jude off. Cardan had to glamour their way out of the hospital after stealing the baby from the nursery, removing a little pink bow from her forehead that they’d affixed with toothpaste.

“Who the fuck puts toothpaste on a baby?” He raised an eyebrow at Jude from across the carriage, holding their daughter during the ride back so Jude could lay down.

It was a mess getting her out, especially so soon after birth. He’d had the Bomb ensure that healers were waiting in their chambers to help her in ways that the mortal doctors couldn’t, so he knew that it was best to move them both as soon as possible, but it still hurt him to see how drained she was.

“I can’t believe they put toothpaste on our baby,” he continued, looking down to where his daughter was watching him intently with big black eyes. He knew then and there, as he looked to her, that he was in trouble. He’d never recover from how much he loved this little girl.

“What in the world are we going to name her?” His whisper filled the carriage and Jude blinked back tears once again. Just seeing him with their little girl did things to her heart that she didn’t even know could be possible.

“Well,” she started, doing her best not to move too much, “why did your parents name you Cardan?”

“I don’t pretend to know why my parents did anything,” he snorted. “Why were you named Jude?”

She smiled up at the carriage ceiling. “I was named after a song that my mother enjoyed. Hey Jude. It was by a band called The Beatles.”

“You’ll have to show me the song sometime.”

She laid her hands on her belly, which still looked pregnant, and studied how her husband’s long fingers curved over their bundled up daughter.

“How about Lucille?”

He made a questioning noise, obviously having gotten lost in their baby’s eyes.

“Lucille,” she tried again. “The band who wrote the song I’m named for had another song, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds. We could name her Lucille and only ever call her Lucy. It would make it all the harder to guess her truename.”

“Do you ever stop scheming, my darling nemesis?” He smiled as he turned the name over in his head. He liked the idea of naming their little girl after a song, especially a mortal one. He wanted her to be proud of her roots.

“Not when it comes to protecting my family,” she promised, her voice suddenly grave.

Cardan just smiled again and looked up at his wife, at his whole world.

“Lucille Greenbriar,” he tried the name out. “Little Lucy.”

Jude’s face softened once more and she reached out to take the baby, tucking the child close to her chest as they sailed over Elfhame.

“I like it,” he announced.

~~~~~~~~~~~

For those of you keeping track at home, here’s a list of things that:

My mother actually did during labor/my birth that Jude Duarte 100% would’ve done:

•Refused to believe I would be born on my due date. Was so adamant that she called every family member and told them to leave her the fuck alone/stop fucking asking about the baby/there was no way the baby would be born on her due date so shut up

•Confused her water breaking for peeing on herself

•Had to be threatened with physical violence before she’d go to the hospital

•Had to remind a nurse that she couldn’t actually pee with a bABY’S HEAD IN THE WAY DIPSHIT

•Called a nurse out for lying

•Pointed at the nurse who told her she “wasn’t trying that hard” and screamed to GET THE FUCK OUT

•Took no medication because she was a fucking boss, held her on oxygen mask after she fired the nurse. Didn’t cry or yell, just got angry

•Had her baby 30 minutes after showing up to the hospital. On the baby’s due date

My father literally did during my mom’s labor/my birth that Cardan Greenbriar 100% would have done:

•Stood by and let his wife call all the family yelling, even though it was two weeks from Christmas and he knew they’d have no way to get in contact if the baby came (everyone was 15 hours away and it was pre cellphone)

•Started timing his wife’s contractions and then dragged her into the car when they were 2 minutes apart after a huge fight

•Slam dunked on the receptionist when they checked in

•Was in awe of the hospital technology

•Literlly, I’m not kidding, when the doc did the whole “lights pointing at the wand” thing and aimed all the room lights at his wife’s crotch he actually yelled “Honey look! You’re a star!”

•Backed his wife tHE FUCK UP when she fired a nurse (the doctor also literally told the nurse to get tf out that really happened. He also really 100% did slide into the room with scrubs half on)

•Asked a nurse why the fuck she put toothpaste on his baby

•Named his baby after a song

My parents’ best friends did that Vivienne would’ve done:

•Brought the baby bag because the dipshits forgot it

•Went “what the fuck do you mean the baby is already here it’s been half an hour”

•(not in the story but) Offer the pregnant lady fried chicken and then never make it iT’S BEEN 21 YEARS SIR WHERE IS HER CHICKEN

•Help no-longer-pregnant lady sneak out cuz she didn’t wanna be there anymore

~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks lol just tell me if you wanna be added

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ayatosmlktea · 4 years

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Hiraeth (n) A Welsh word used to describe the feeling of homesickness for a home you cannot return to.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it

A/N: This is my first long fic...honestly I’m proud of it. I never thought I'd ever reach the 5k word threshold but here we are!

@thesilencebeforeastorm wrote a second part here, it’s very sweet!

“God it’s like you never listen to me!” Y/N’s complaint grated against Levi’s ears like cutlery scraping across glass plates, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the passenger side door.

“I always listen! It’s you who never wants to hear what I have to say! You know I’m right”! Levi countered through gritted teeth, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as they sped along the dimly light road.

“Are you being serious right now?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend feeling her heart begin to beat harder in her chest. She hated fighting with him, but his arrogant attitude was becoming intolerable.

“Yes! How many times have we had this fucking conversation already?” Levi groaned, his head was throbbing. All he wanted was one night of peace, one night where they could connect without being interrupted. But as usual something just had to go wrong. It seemed that lately all they knew how to do was fight. They weren’t even significant arguments, the smallest inconvenience could send them into a fit, more often than not Levi found himself going to bed long after Y/N had. Not even wanting to sleep in the same bed some nights. He knew from the beginning of her pregnancy that she was going to be emotional, but God there was only so much he could take.

“We wouldn’t need to be having this conversation if you would just fucking chill out for once!” Y/N snapped back the air inside the car suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot, her palms were sweaty and her nails were digging into her skin to prevent angry tears from falling.

“I need to chill out? Okay, fine. When we get home I’ll grab my shit and go chill out.” Levi’s jaw was beginning to cramp from how hard he was clenching it, his foot unconsciously pressing down harder on the gas pedal. The pent up frustrations over the past few weeks were finally coming out all at once.

“Fine! I don’t want to be around you anyway!” Y/N yelled, ignoring the tiny kick against her stomach.

“Great! Then maybe we shouldn’t be together! Since I’m so fucking uptight maybe you should be with someone who doesn’t give a shit!” Despite the harsh words they were throwing at each other, Y/N flinched at this. Things had been bad, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She knew she was being unreasonable but sometimes Levi knew how to push her buttons to the point where she didn’t care how snappy she was.

Levi probably should have stopped venting, the words coming out of his mouth did not at all reflect his feelings. His temper was out of control and his pride was only fueled by her lack of comebacks.

“What the hell is wrong with you! I never said I wanted to be with anyone else! You’re being really irrational right now Levi” Both of them were so caught up in tearing each other apart that the bright white headlights rapidly approaching went unnoticed as they continued to rip into each other.

“Oh I’m being irrational? That’s rich coming from you, miss I need ice cream and pickles right now or else I’m going to cry for the next three hours.” Levi mocked, swerving lights inching closer and closer.

“Well if it bothers you so much then I won’t ask you for anything anymore! If we’re so fucking inconvenient to you then don’t bother! Take your shit and go!”

“Sometimes I wish I’d never met you!” The blaring horn pierced their ears, eyes widening in horrific realization that there was no time to react. The sound of glass shattering and tires screeching drowning out panicked screams.

“Hey babe!” Levi called out as he removed his shoes, the house was oddly quiet. Most of the lights were turned off, usually by the time he got home Y/N was cooking dinner with the tv on in the background. She never liked being home alone without having background noise to keep her company. Levi flicked the living room light on, nothing seemed to be out of place, an occurrence that was rare. Y/N would typically lounge out in front of the tv with a snack or two before he got home. Walking down the hallway to their bedroom he was surprised to find her in bed, not one to take naps regularly Levi began to worry that she was sick. Sitting down on the edge of the bed his fingers gently caress her cheeks, pulling back once they were met with something wet. Y/N was...crying? But why?

“Baby what’s wrong?” He asked in a soothing whisper, brushing strands of damp hair away from her face. Levi was on edge, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was making her upset, their relationship had been going so well.

“I’m sorry” she cried, bringing her hands up to her face turning her body farther away from him.

“What do you mean you’re sorry? What happened?” Levi’s palms were becoming clammy with panic, he tried keeping his voice steady knowing that it was only going to make her freakout even more.

“It’s my fault!”

“What’s your fault? Tell me what’s going on?” Levi pulls against her shoulders rolling her onto her back. Bile creeps up his throat as he stares at her bloody face, shards of glass jutting out from her skin, tears stream down her cheeks mingling with the crimson liquid. Levi wants to say something but his tongue feels like lead.

“Wake up! You’re dying!” Y/N’s body is suddenly towering over him, drops of blood falling onto his face.

“You have to wake up!”

Gasping in short breaths of air Levi’s eyes hazily open, white lights too bright for him to stare into make his head throb. He was moving, but where.

“He’s conscious!” Someone shouts too loud for Levi’s liking. Masked faces hover above him, they’re moving too. Levi’s throat feels like sandpaper as he groans, Levi tried to turn his head to the side but found himself unable to.

“Don’t try to move sir” One of the masked figures said reassuringly, but Levi felt anything but reassured.

“Y/N...where is she” he rasped out, every breath felt like his lungs were being set on fire.

“She’s right behind you, you’re going to be okay” They replied, Levi tried his best to look for her but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Blinking slowly the lights grew faint, he barely registered a mask being placed over his mouth. Words exchanged between the nurses mingling together to become one incoherent string of nonsense as his vision becomes engulfed in a blackened silence.

“Are you excited?” Y/N asked with her head resting in Levi’s lap. Neither of them were really all that invested in the movie they were watching.

“Excited for what?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her. Her unamused expression had Levi fighting the urge to smirk.

“Are you serious? You’re going to be a dad soon!”

“Am I?” Levi asked again, a more prominent look of confusion on his face now. Y/N rolled her eyes while slapping his chest half heartedly.

“You’re so annoying sometimes” she sighed, turning her attention back to the movie.

“I am” Levi admitted after a few minutes.

“You are what? Annoying? I know”

“I’m excited...to have a family with you. Our little brat is lucky to have your for a mom” Y/N huffed in amusement.

“Stop calling our baby a brat”

“She is a little brat, always giving your mom a hard time huh?” Levi scolded affectionately.

“Don’t you think it’s time to wake up?” Y/N’s suddenly serious expression and tone was off putting, the blank far off look in her eyes made him feel like prey backed into a corner. It was nauseating.

“What?”

“It’s time to wake up, Levi. She needs you”

A soft beeping greets Levi as his brain tries to grab onto consciousness. For a moment he can’t remember where he is or why he’s lying in a bed that is definitely not his own with sheets that don’t feel right on his skin. Something was obviously wrong, but he couldn’t remember anything. Glancing around the room he could tell he was in a hospital bed, his side ached every time he tried to reposition himself. Where was Y/N? Why was he here?

Sometimes I wish I’d never met you!

Levi felt his stomach drop, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat as he remembered the last thing he’d said to Y/N. The events of the previous night came back in flashes, the smell of burnt rubber, Y/N’s scream echoed around in his mind. Levi pulled himself up ignoring the sharp jabs of pain coming from every part of his body. He had to find her, he needed to know she was okay, that their baby was okay.

Pulling the IV out of his arm, he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed. His left leg was stitched up from just his knee to the top of his thigh and God did it fucking hurt trying to move. Setting his foot down on the cold tiles he hissed, nearly collapsing onto the ground as he tried to distribute his weight to take enough pressure off of his injured leg. It was a bitch to try and walk around but he had made it to the door of his room, albeit sweating heavily and panting. His body was too hot, everything was too bright and too loud.

“Sir what are you doing? You shouldn’t get out of bed” A gentle looking nurse says calmly while trying to direct him back into his room.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Levi demands and he can see a brief look of pity flash across her face but it’s gone in seconds.

“You can see her when you’re properly healed from your surgery! You’re in no condition to be walking!” She says in a more authoritative voice, yet still fairly calm. Levi attempts to shove past her but stumbles when his ankle gives out, hissing in pain and annoyance. With quick reflexes she manages to catch him easily, calling for another nurse to help her transport him back to bed. Levi was relentless in struggling against them, soon two nurses became three and Levi realized with disdain that he was getting nowhere.

“Please...I need to know she’s okay” the throbbing in his side was getting worse and his entire leg felt like it was on fire.

“His stitches ripped,” one of the nurses stated while they maneuvered him back to the bed. His eyes pleading with the first nurse he’d ran into.

“We aren’t allowed to disclose information on her condition to anyone who isn’t family but I can tell you that Miss L/N is resting and her condition is stable” Levi felt momentary relief but he wouldn’t get his hopes up until he could see her with his own eyes.

Grunting when they placed him back in bed the pain that had briefly subsided in his panicked episode was coming back all at once. He needed to apologize for saying something so horrible to her. He obviously didn’t mean it, he had been so lost in his own pettiness that he had said something for the sole purpose of hurting her feelings. It was stupid, childish. The moment he saw her, he was going to beg for her forgiveness. From that day on he would do whatever it took to make it up to her for putting them through this mess.

Levi’s stomach churned as he thought of their baby...only seven months along, he hoped they would survive. He’d never be able to live with himself if something happened.

His thoughts kept him distracted, replaying their fight in his head over and over wishing that he had paid more attention to the road, drove slower, used his fucking head and calmed down.

“Mr.Ackerman?” Levi’s eyes shot open, his bubble instantly popped by the sudden intrusion beside him. He didn’t know how many hours had passed since the nurses had fixed his stitches or when he had fallen asleep.

“I’m Dr. Jaeger, I’m here to answer any questions you might have regarding your surgery.” Levi could give a rats ass about himself.

“Y/N. I want to see her.” That familiar look of pity flashed across the doctors face and Levi was growing sick of it. There was obviously something they weren’t telling him. Sighing softly Dr.Jaeger nodded.

“I’ll take you to see her but there are a few things you need to know first.” Levi didn’t like where this was going, a foreshadowing sense of dread settling itself in the pit of his stomach.

“We’ve checked her medical records, it seems that she has no immediate family. You’re her emergency contact.” Levi nodded, it was something they had discussed after a year of being together. Y/N didn’t have any immediate relatives and the only remaining family she did have lived across the globe. It wasn’t a hard decision to make at the time, he hadn’t been thinking of worst case scenarios when he agreed to become her emergency contact.

“Meaning that you’re going to be making this decision for her.” Dr. Jaeger continued cautiously, waiting for an outburst.

“What decision?” A nurse entered the room with a wheelchair, Levi’s lips were set in a thin line. He wanted to see her more than anything but now he wasn’t sure what he was going to be met with.

“I’ll explain when we get there” Levi didn’t like that answer but complied, figuring it was better to go along with them rather than demanding answers. He begrudgingly allowed Dr. Jaeger and the nurse to help him into the wheelchair. He hated being dependent on others but after ripping his stitches open he didn’t want to go through the trouble again. It would only delay him seeing Y/N.

The trip to her room felt impossibly long, Levi’s hands were balled into fists in his lap. When they finally stopped outside her room, Dr. Jaeger gingerly placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder. Unreadable grey eyes locked onto green ones. It almost felt like he was being prepared for what was awaiting him on the other side of the door.

Levi felt nothing but guilt as his eyes drank in Y/N’s unconscious form, there were bruises and cuts littering her face and arms. A tube was inserted down her throat meaning she was unable to breathe on her own.

“She can hear you but we aren’t sure when she’ll wake up.” The silence was heavy, Levi’s mind was reeling with possibilities he didn’t want to consider.

“You don’t know when she’ll wake up or if she’ll wake up?” An inevitable sense of hopelessness gripped him by the throat, slowly squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“There were a few...complications with her surgery. Due to the force of the impact her brain suffered swelling and hemorrhaging, internal bleeding in the brain. We’ve done all we can to try and reduce the swelling, the rest is up to her.”

Levi hated the way he sounded so...bland about it. Like this kind of thing happened everyday, and yeah, it probably did but Levi couldn’t help but feel angry as his entire world was being ripped from his hands so cruelly. Levi had learned early on that this was the way the world worked. It moved on, life didn’t stop while he struggled to pick up the pieces that had shattered.

“What about the baby?” He asked tightly, keeping his eyes focused on the blank face of his lover. His mind was clouded over with too many emotions to process at once. Everything just felt like white hot rage, burning its way through his body with no regard for what it destroyed.

“The baby is doing well, it was a miracle they survived. We’re still monitoring them closely, if anything happens we’ll have no choice but to perform an emergency c-section.” Levi’s shoulders slumped forward with relief, his baby girl was okay. He picked up Y/N’s hand locking their fingers together before pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. However, the relief he felt was short lived.

“What decision am I supposed to be making for her?” He asked, turning his head too sharply to glare at the doctor.

“In the event that miss L/N’s coma progresses to a vegetative state, it is your decision on whether to keep her on life support or let her go” Levi’s jaw clenched, she was going to wake up! She had to.

“What’s going to happen to the baby?” Forcing himself to breathe Levi was seconds away from losing his control, his eyes were burning, the lump in his throat pressing uncomfortably against his Adam’s apple. He wouldn’t cry, he needed to be strong for her.

“As long as her brain is able to carry out regular functioning the baby is in no danger. Providing there are no further complications the baby can safely be delivered via c-section.” Taking in a shuddering breath all Levi could do was nod his understanding. He didn’t want this, they were supposed to go through this together but now he was alone.

“I’ll give you some time alone with her, try talking to her. It might help.” Levi watched the peaks rise and fall on the EKG monitor, she was so close to him and yet he had never felt farther from her than in that moment. Levi placed a hand on her stomach, something he had done many times before while Y/N slept except now it felt weird. Like he shouldn’t be touching her, didn’t deserve to be touching her. Black locks covered his face as he hung his head unable to fight back the bitter tears that had been building up since he’d regained consciousness.

“What do you think we should name her?” Y/N asked her fingers absentmindedly carding through his hair while he rested his head in her lap. The more her belly grew the more often Levi found himself wanting to spend as much time talking to their baby as possible. After Y/N had told him that she could hear them, he wanted her to get used to the sound of his voice.

“I’m not sure, what’s a fitting name for my little princess?” Y/N couldn’t fight the grin that spread over her face, watching her boyfriend address their baby like they were having a conversation was one of her favourite things.

“Hm, how about London?”

“No, I’m not naming my daughter after a city” Y/N scrolled through the list of baby names she’d pulled up on her phone, their new nightly routine consisted of trying to find a name for the baby. Despite it being only five months along they were both impatient to meet their baby, Levi referred to her solely as his little princess while Y/N had taken up calling her pumpkin. They butted heads with every name, either Levi said it sounded too tacky or Y/N complained that it wasn’t unique enough.

“How about Alabama?” Levi’s head craned up to meet her eyes, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Please tell me you’re joking”

“This is impossible” she sighed defeatedly.

“Let me see” Levi reached out to grab her phone, eyes scrolling down the list until one name caught his attention.

“How about this one?” Y/N raises an eyebrow in interest, her eyes lock with Levi’s.

“Not bad shorty, not bad”

♡ ♡ ♡

The following weeks were torturous, Levi was still unable to walk on his own. After calming down Dr. Jaeger has explained that his femur had been fractured and would take a while to heal. His torso still ached but it was nothing in comparison to the pain he felt during physical therapy. During the times he wasn’t learning how to walk, something he hated with his entire being, he was in Y/N’s room. The nurses didn’t have the heart to move him, eventually they had given up trying to coax Levi back into his own room allowing them to be together. It made Levi easier to deal with and he was less grumpy when it came time to bring him to therapy. Y/N’s condition hadn’t gotten worse but it showed no signs of getting better and while Levi was grateful for it he was struggling to hold on the longer she was unconscious.

“I miss you...I hope you can hear me. I know I don’t deserve you, not after what happened. Princess is doing okay but she’s gonna need you babe, I need you! I can’t do this by myself. Please, wake up” Levi didn’t have much time to talk to her during the day, but at night he poured his heart out in ways he never had and every night it made him feel guilty.

Things he should have told her while she was in his arms, moments he took for granted that he might not ever get to experience again. With crushing realization Levi couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed her, worse he couldn’t remember the last time he had told her he loved her. Pressing his face into the mattress he cried silently, the grip on her hand tightening as he bit back sobs.

He knew it was stupid, giving himself false hope that maybe one day she’d wake up. It had already been over a month and soon enough they would be delivering their baby. Levi was not confident in his ability to be a parent, let alone a single parent. He didn’t even want to think about it, he needed Y/N. But even if she woke up, what would happen, would she be the same person he remembered?

Levi hated being late, if it wasn’t for the fifteen minutes he’d spent trying to shovel his car out of the snow he wouldn’t be sweating his ass off just before going on a date. Not that he really wanted to be going on one in the first place but Hange and Erwin had both decided to meddle into his pathetic love life and set him up with someone they knew. Levi could care less about dating, he didn’t have time to emotionally support someone else, not while he was so invested in trying to earn his masters.

However, he was fed up with Hange giving out his number to random girls and she promised that if he went on this date she’d stop meddling. Levi would suffer through two hours of his life if it meant he didn’t have to receive anymore texts from clingy girls with shitty pick up lines. Besides his closed off personality was usually enough for them to get uncomfortable, calling off the date early. Levi waited inside his car for a few minutes, not wanting to rush in drenched with sweat.

Actually, maybe that was a good idea. The sooner he scared her off the better. Levi walked into the restaurant, the waiter glanced at him weirdly but said nothing as Levi was led to his table. The sight of his date had him doing a double take, none of the girls Hange set him up with had ever looked as beautiful as her.

“Oh, good you’re here! I was about to order without you. Levi right?” Her eyes never left the menu in front of her and Levi was a little taken back by her brash attitude. Not only did she completely disregard his presence but she was going to start eating without him. When her eyes finally met his Levi felt the wind being knocked out of him, her eyes were mesmerizing.

“Huh...well I guess you’re not bad. Although, Hange really talked you up. I will admit you’re, by far, the most decent looking guy she’s set me up with” She laughed and Levi willed himself to ignore the way he craved to hear more of it. He hated to admit it but he was used to being completely fawned over by his dates, this was...new.

As the night went on Levi found himself enjoying her presence. Y/N was entertaining, she was sarcastic and witty and not afraid of his sharp comebacks. He had completely lost track of time, he needed to see more of her. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with one date.

“You know, you’re pretty good company” Y/N smirked, and for the first time in his life Levi felt butterflies in his stomach. Levi usually drove his dates home and if he felt like it had even given a few of them a goodnight kiss. But nothing had ever made him feel the way Y/N did, her lips fit against his like they were made for him. Her hands molded perfectly with his; and as they pulled apart out of breath, his heart pounding against his ribcage, Levi knew he was in trouble.

“Levi?” Levi’s daydreaming was interrupted by Hange’s cautious voice. Hange and Erwin were staring at him like he was fragile, like if they said the wrong thing he’d break. He hated the way their gazes drifted towards his leg, the ugly stitches immediately caught everyone’s attention. It was a constant reminder of his stupidity.

Hange’s eyes were wet with tears as she enveloped Levi in a firm hug. It hurt but at the same time he almost craved it, they were his closest friends. The only ones who could understand the pain he felt. Levi had been waiting outside of the delivery room for what felt like hours. They had asked him to wait in his room but Levi wanted to be there the second their baby was delivered. He couldn’t tell if things were going well, but there was a feeling he couldn’t shake. His gut was telling him that the dread he’d been feeling since they had rushed her into an emergency c-section wasn’t paranoia.

“Have you heard anything?” Erwin asked, taking a seat next to Levi.

“Not yet” Erwin was used to Levi’s short worded responses, but this was something different. Levi’s body was tense, glancing down Erwin took in how white his knuckles were. His eyes were trained on the doors in front of them, he looked so different from the person they’d seen months ago. Hange grabbed one of his clenched fists in her hands and Levi made no attempts to shove her off of him. The sound of the door being pushed open almost made him vomit with nerves, if he could he would’ve been on his feet already.

“Mr. Ackerman, we’re ready for you.” They weren’t giving anything away but Levi felt like he already knew what was coming.

“We’ll be here” Hange said, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze.

The room was divided by a curtain, Levi felt his body go numb as he listened to Dr. Jaeger give him the news he’d been dreading.

“We’re very sorry, we did everything we could but there was too much bleeding.” He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. He struggled to take in shuddering breaths, nails digging crescents into the cold palm of his hands. Angry tears pricked at his tired eyes. It wasn’t fair! She was too young, their lives were only beginning. Levi thought of every dream they had ever talked about, finishing their degrees, travelling the world together, getting married.

“Would you like to hold her?” The question distracts him, for a second Levi felt himself hesitate. Did he really want this? He was by no means parental material and the thought of having to raise their daughter without Y/N was terrifying. Levi nodded, unsure of what to expect. He hadn’t expected to cry at the sight of their baby but she was without a doubt the most beautiful child he had ever seen. During the last two months Y/N’s body had fought to keep their baby alive, he didn’t care that people were watching him. He would never be able to go back and change the past, but he would take the precious gift she had given him to create a better future.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Levi’s eyes were focused on the miracle in front of him. Their baby, the last piece of Y/N he would have to remember for the rest of his life. They had agreed on a name months ago but Levi felt like it wasn’t enough to express the meaning that the tiny human in his arms had abruptly brought into his life.

“Yeah, I do”

♡ ♡ ♡

The crisp air nipped at his cheeks, tinting them with a youthful rosy pink. It was a beautiful day, the kind of fall weather Y/N loved. The sun was warm despite the chilly autumn wind, she loved sweater weather. It was only fitting that she be laid to rest on a day as beautiful as she was. Levi’s emotions were anything but cheerful, his heart was heavy. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. He could only hope that she had heard him the countless nights he had spent lying next to her apologizing for what he’d done.

Levi’s gaze lingered on the cloudless sky, hoping that wherever Y/N was, she knew how much he loved her, and would always love her. The swaddled bundle in his arms begins to stir, drawing his attention back to Lily.

‘She looks just like you’ he thought, a bittersweet smile on his lips. Her eyes opened slowly, e/c orbs trying to focus on his face. Levi’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes burned with tears once more. No matter how many times he looked at her, he was breathless. Lily looked so much like Y/N it almost physically hurt sometimes. Levi wished he could turn back time, do it all over again. If he hadn’t been so reckless then he wouldn’t have to be standing over his girlfriend’s grave holding their motherless baby. The guilt never went away, it still felt like just yesterday that Y/N had been in his arms.

Some nights his chest ached so bad he felt like he was going to die, sleep completely evading him. Other mornings he woke up searching out her body in his drowsy state. Only to remember that she was gone. The bed was too big, it was cold and empty without her. Sometimes Levi swore he could still hear the sound of her voice calling him to wake up. But every time he opened his eyes she was never there. The only reason Levi still got out of bed in the morning was because of Lily.

“It’s just you and me princess” he said softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. Levi’s life would have ended the moment Y/N’s had if it wasn’t for Lily. A flower that had bloomed in the darkest time of his life. His second chance for a life after Y/N.

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retrievablememories · 4 years

Text

no manners | lucas

title: no manners pairing: lucas x black!reader genre: angst, implied smut request: “Aww thanks✨😊 Hope it’s not too much(I have a wild/creative imagination😌) Could you write a fic where Lucas is married to an African American who lives in America while he’s in China with WayV. One night after a call where Lucas suggests she go out with friends because she’s too lonely, she drinks too much and ends up going home with a stranger. When she wakes up she finds out what she did and a few days later she finds out she’s pregnant 💁🏿‍♀️that being said ain’t do it if it’s weird” word count: 5k warnings: workplace sexism/harassment, infidelity, alcohol use, mentions of intoxicated sex, mentions of pregnancy, emetophobia warning, mentions of blood, medical setting, angst!! just sad shit man a/n: hard to think of a good title, idk. the song’s about a sad relationship so close enough? ion fuck with drake anymore but passionfruit was the soundtrack for this one lol

You wake up in the middle of the night again—you’ve been doing it a lot lately. Your head aches a bit and your throat feels dry. You reach for the bottle of water on your nightstand and drink from it, though it doesn’t make you feel any better.

Pulling the covers back over yourself, you turn towards the empty side of the bed and feel that familiar pain settle in your body again. There are painkillers for physical discomforts, but what do you do for this kind of ache that comes from deep within the heart? You sigh and simply close your eyes, trying to block out the feeling.

It’s been over 3 months since you’ve seen Lucas in person, which might as well be the equivalent of several lifetimes for you. You knew this was going to be inevitable once you got married, and even while you were still in the dating stage you experienced it. But you’re not sure if you could’ve accounted for just how intense it would feel now. It’s different now. You’ve made a home together—are going to have a family someday—and yet you barely get to spend any time together.

Burrowing deeper under the covers, you curl yourself up as small as possible, as if you can squeeze out the pain by leaving no more room for it.

Even work is bland now. You work at a firm for a fairly popular magazine in your city, and although your duties keep you busy most days, even those things are starting to lose their appeal. Your peers certainly don’t help.

“You look like you’ve been going through it,” Your coworker Daniel says over lunch. Your other coworker, Patrice, elbows them in the side for his indiscretion.

Your jaw clenches. You have to make an effort to relax your body and gather your thoughts before responding. The last thing you need right now is to lose your job, although you already know Lucas could support the both of you if necessary. “I’m fine. Just a little sleep deficit, but I’ll live.”

“Don’t mind him,” Sharia says, rolling her eyes. “We all get a little worn out sometimes. I hope things get better for you soon.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Daniel interjects, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Sharia’s right, though; we all know how you’re feeling.” No, you don’t, you think, resisting the desire to scoff in his face. “Work’s been pretty hectic the past few weeks.”

“Yep, real busy,” you say curtly, not wanting to draw this conversation out further. It’s clear that he thinks he’s making some kind of connection with you, despite him knowing jackshit about anything that’s going on in your life. His presumptuousness has always rubbed you wrong.

“Absolutely. Hopefully the big boss will ease up on us soon here.” You think Daniel is done, but then he speaks again, and Patrice puts her head in her hands. “Anyway, how’s everyone’s home life faring from all this? You and the husband doing all alright?” You know that last statement is specifically for you, and it makes you even more weary.

Sharia shifts uncomfortably as if she can feel the tension you’re experiencing. She’s the only one on your job who knows who you’re married to, as you didn’t want to let your other nosy colleagues in on your life. She’s the only one you can trust to keep your business on your front porch where it belongs.

“We’re doing fine,” you say, keeping your voice light. “How are you and your girlfriend?”

“Actually—are you sure you and dear husband aren’t having any problems? You know...of the bedroom variety? Maybe that’s part of why you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Jesus, Daniel!” Patrice exclaims in disbelief.

“You’re way out of line.” Sharia gives Daniel a warning look. “We’re at work, this isn’t gossip hour. I don’t think you need another HR report under your belt.”

You continue to sit with your hands clasped together, digging your nails into the back of your hand and watching the wall clock count down the minutes until the lunch break ends. Still 10 minutes left. If this were any other setting, any other person, you would’ve cursed Daniel out and likely given him a good backhanding, but he knows you can’t do anything here. And that’s precisely why he does it.

“What goes on in our lives is none of your business,” you say slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “I don’t know where you pull this crap from. You should listen to Sharia.”

“I hope that’s not a threat, because we all know the boss doesn’t care,” Daniel scoffs. “I’m not going anywhere, so you girls might as well get used to it.” Thankfully, he decides to take his leave at this point, collecting the rest of his lunch and stalking back to his office.

Patrice and Sharia exchange looks, and you merely sit and continue staring at the clock, watching the hands count to the next hour. It’s all you can do.

You’re relieved when you step through the front door of your house that night. Or maybe relief isn’t the word for it—but there is definitely a sort of deflation that happens once you pass through the threshold. You feel sapped and tired, and you can only think of scraping together whatever leftovers you can find because you’re too tired to cook a new meal.

As you walk into the bedroom, you remember that you and Lucas are supposed to video chat tonight, and that makes you feel a little better, but not as good as it could. You glance at the empty side of the bed and sigh heavily.

The rest of the evening passes by simultaneously too slow and too fast. It’s almost like the weight of your depression is dragging down the rest of the world and making time flow in a strange, nonsensical fashion. You eat your leftovers, watch bad reality TV, and even try to check a few work emails before your mind drifts off again. You keep replaying the events at lunch and getting upset again, though you don’t want to.

By the time the hour for your video call comes along, you’re curled up on the bed holding your phone tightly, waiting for it to ring and your husband’s name to flash across the screen. You answer almost instantly when it finally does.

“Yukhei,” you breathe out once his face appears on screen. The sight of him is enough to make your eyes sting immediately, and your throat is choked off with tears.

“Y/N!” Even through the phone speakers, his voice is loud enough to fill your room, and your sudden laughter at his excitement is enough to make the tears building in your eyes finally fall down. Lucas leans closer to the screen, his features drawing into a concerned expression. “Oh, shit—Y/N, what’s wrong?!”

You’ve stopped laughing now but the tears keep flowing, and you wipe your eyes futilely. For a while, all you can do is shake your head and keep crying as Lucas coos to you on the other end of the phone, growing increasingly concerned about your emotional state.

You put the phone down to wipe your face, and only then are you able to calm down enough to speak. “I just hate everything.”

Lucas frowns. “What do you hate, baby?”

“This fucking job, I hate Daniel, I hate being talked to like I’m an idiot, I hate…I hate you not being here.” You pick up the phone again. Your head hurts from crying, and you put your forehead in your hand as you look at Lucas on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish I could be there with you. You know I’d kick his ass for you...and anyone else who makes my baby cry.” He sighs and chuckles, though there’s no real humor to it. “Maybe I should kick my own ass too, then. I’m always away from you, and I know that doesn’t help. There are moments everyday when I wish I was there beside you, but…”

“It’s not like you can help it,” you say, and you feel powerless to do anything about it. “You shouldn’t...feel bad about it.” If only you could take your own advice.

“It’s impossible not to.” Lucas’s fingers drift to his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger like he does whenever he’s distressed. It’s become a subconscious thing for him at this point, but you always notice, and it comforts you to know your relationship can be a solace for him. “I have the other guys here, and it helps, but...who do you talk to when you’re feeling alone, besides me?”

“Ugh…” You lean back against the headboard. “No one, really...I don’t want to bother Sharia with my issues. Or my other friends. I feel like everyone already has their own stuff to deal with…”

Lucas leans forward again, as if he’s talking to you face-to-face. “My dear wife, I won’t pretend to be your therapist, but I think I have a prescription for you.”

You laugh and shake your head. “And what would that be?”

“You should go out. Take a few days off from work, leave the house, do whatever. But I really think you need to be around other people.”

“Go out?”

“Yes, with your friends! You’re cool with some people from work—Sharia, at least. Or your college friends, if not your coworkers. Anyone. I don’t want you to be spending all your time alone.” A melancholy note enters his voice. “And since I can’t be with you now, I want you to at least get out without me.”

“I don’t know...”

“What’s wrong?”

“The problem is that I miss you. Going someplace where you aren’t isn’t gonna help.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Lucas says, but his voice is warm with affection. “Just do it for me, please? You don’t think it hurts me to see my lovely wife so upset? I only want you to be happy.”

Your heart warms at that, and you look up at the ceiling, not wanting to start another wave of tears. “Well, okay...you’re right. I’ll try it this weekend. But I’m still gonna be thinking of you the whole time.”

Lucas smiles. He brings his ring finger close to the camera and kisses the band of metal. “For life, right?”

You mirror his actions. “Always.”

The next day, you catch up with Sharia at the copy machine.

“Hey girl, how are you doing?” she asks, feeding more paper into the machine. “Not too bad after what that fool said yesterday, I hope.”

The mention of that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you shake your head and pretend to brush it off. “I’m fine, no one’s thinking about that sleaze. I was wondering if you were up for hanging out this Friday? It’s kinda short notice, but me and some friends are planning to go to a club…”

Her eyes light up at that. “Oh? Which club are y’all going to?”

“The one on the same street as that new five-star restaurant that just opened up. Apparently it’s a bit exclusive, but one of my friends claims to have direct connections, so we’re gonna try it out.”

“Oh, to be rich and glamorous.” Sharia laughs. “Sure, I’ll go. I’m always up for some fun. Anything that’s not this damn job.”

“Great! You know where I live, just swing by around 8?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Sharia looks like she wants to say something else, but Daniel strolls into the room and she rolls her eyes, quickly turning back to the copy machine.

“Hey ladies, what’s going on?” Daniel leans against the wall as if he plans to pull a long conversation out of you, but you shake your head and walk out.

“Bye, Daniel.”

Sharia follows suit, grabbing her documents out of the machine and not even checking if they’re correct before following you out. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

The Friday night that you head to the club is unexpectedly hot. It rained hard earlier that day and the air is still thick with humidity, which makes you grateful you’re gonna be spending most of your time indoors. Your friend’s connections come in to save the day, just as she promised, and your group of five is soon standing in the club without having to wait in a hot line all night.

Your friend leads everyone over to the VIP section and you all sit down, marveling at the club’s sleek interior. Everything is all glitter and glass and steel, giving the building an almost futuristic look.

“We need some drinks, there’s no way I’m spending all night in a club like this sober,” one of the girls suggests. The others agree and spend a few minutes playfully arguing over which drinks would be best to get before standing up.

Your friend notices you’re still sitting down. “Are you two coming with, or do you want us to order for you?”

“Just order something for me, doesn’t matter what it is,” you say, waving your hand. Sharia agrees. She waits until the others leave, then turns to you with a serious look.

“You should quit.” You stare at her, wondering if maybe you’ve misheard over the loud music.

“Quit? My job? Do you hate having me around that much?” you joke, though you feel confused and a little hurt.

“Now you know—what I’m saying is, we both know who your man is. I think you would be fine if you just quit and started looking for another job or even stopped working for a while. There’s no reason why you should have to stay there and keep putting up with Daniel’s shit.”

You don’t hate the idea. It’s one you’ve thought of numerous times before, but you’re not confident about taking the first step towards it. “I don’t think it’s that simple...having a job keeps me busy. I’d probably die of boredom if I didn’t have work. And anyway, I’m not really ready to be a housewife...especially considering that my husband isn’t even there half the time.” Your mood drops a little when you think of this. Sharia notices and tries to pull you back before you lose steam before the night even starts.

“Hey hey, it’s just a suggestion! You don’t have to do anything except whichever choice will be easiest for you. I’m just trying to look out for you girl, God knows no one wants to be harassed on the job everyday.”

“I hear you. But I don’t want to think about this anymore,” you groan.

When the other girls come back, you take your drink and immediately down half of it in one go. You need something to distract you from the bad mood attempting to creep up on you.

“Well damn, okay! Someone’s eager!” you friend shouts, and everyone else laughs.

The rest of the night goes similarly, quickly spiraling out of your hands before you can really realize it. The alcohol makes you unable to think about any one thing for too long, which is what you want—maybe even need. You lose track of how many drinks you have and how many songs you dance to. All you can feel is the burning in your throat and the blissful emptiness of not having to think, worry, or stress. For once.

At some point, someone’s hands are on your body and you think maybe it’s one of your friends, but none of them would touch you like this—or kiss you like this. It’s not Lucas either, it can’t be because he’s still in China isn’t he? but you want it to be Lucas, it should be Lucas, so you return the kiss anyway, and there’s more touching and feeling—

until you end up in someone’s car, a taxi maybe, it’s not the car you came in but that doesn’t matter either, just the hands and the sensation of it all, of being touched by a person other than yourself when you haven’t felt it in a long time—

and maybe if you close your eyes for long enough it will be him.

The first thing you notice is the splitting sensation in your head. You don’t remember how you got into your bed or how much you had last night, but you haven’t experienced a hangover like this since your college years, so it must’ve been a lot. You groan and bring your hands to your head, also noticing that your bonnet is nowhere to be found. You must’ve been really wasted last night.

You reach for the water on your nightstand, but it’s not there. In fact, nothing’s there. Your hand meets air, and you suddenly feel slightly alarmed—where’s your nightstand? You finally crack one eye open only to see a room entirely different from the one in your home.

You jolt up, which only makes your head throb harder, but you can’t be bothered with that right now when you’re in a strange place. Pure panic explodes in your chest as you look to the side and see a strange man sleeping next to you in bed—his bed. You can only see his top half, but you can assume he’s naked underneath, as you are equally nude.

“Fuck, no,” you blurt out. You throw the covers back and move as fast as you can to collect your strewn clothes, not really caring if you wake the man up at this point. You just know you’ve got to get the hell out.

You pull your clothes on and dial for an Uber on your phone, sprinting out of the bedroom just as the man starts rustling in the bedsheets. You realize his place is some sort of luxury apartment, which means he’s probably one of the many famous or semi-famous men who frequents that club. That idea makes you panic more as you unlock the door and run out of it; you don’t have the patience to wait on the elevator, so you take the stairs two at a time.

You’re full-on shaking by the time you get to the bottom and end up outside on the sidewalk. Some people passing by give you sideways glances at your presumed Walk of Shame, with you still wearing your club outfit, but there’s no room to think about their judgment. You’re too busy being eaten alive by your conscience.

The ride home is mostly silent. Your driver tries to strike up a conversation at first, but they realize you’re in no state to talk and leave you to your thoughts. With your hangover, the sun’s brightness feels like nails stabbing into your skull, but the pain gripping your heart still manages to be worse.

Your wedding ring feels especially heavy on your finger, like solid lead weighing you down. You badly want to take it off, but you also don’t want to remove one of the few things tying you to Lucas right now. The conflict tears you apart. You almost feel like your ring has become a sentient thing, burning your skin and pinching your finger with the threat of cutting it clean off.

You scrub yourself for what seems like an hour after you get home. When you finally get out of the shower, you end up in the armchair in your room, sitting in your towel and simply staring at the bed. Lucas’s side of the bed. The side of the bed where a picture of you two sits framed on the nightstand, one you took on the day of your wedding shoot. It seems to mock you now, saying, Look at what a good thing you had. Look at what you’ve destroyed.

The ring burns again.

Monday feels surreal in a sickly way.

You don’t call or text anyone over the weekend—not even your friends who are worried and demanding answers for what happened at the club. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re angry at their demands; why didn’t anyone stop you if they were so concerned? Weren’t they all there, too? Either way, it’s too late to think about “what ifs.” What’s done is done. You don’t want to talk or think about it anymore. But that’s impossible.

Stepping into work doesn’t feel real. No one knows anything except Sharia. All your colleagues still greet you like you’re the same person, the same hardworking employee and loving wife they all know. It’s better that they don’t know, but in some irrational way, this also makes you angry. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t treat me like I’m the same person. My life is ruined; nothing can ever be the same.

Nevertheless, you interact with them all like it’s any other Monday and play along with their tired banter even when you want to scream to the world that none of this matters. You do a decent job of avoiding Sharia during the first half of the day, occupying your time with assignments and then creating busywork when you finish those.

Until lunch. Then there’s nowhere left to run.

You go to your car with the excuse of picking up your food today—even though you don’t intend to do anything but sit in the parking lot—and no one questions it but her. She follows you outside. You don’t even have the energy to tell her no. You’re at least glad that she doesn’t speak until both of you are safely in the car and away from other ears.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know if that matters,” you say blankly.

“Well, it does. You might have made a terrible mistake, but you’re still human.”

“There’s no way to be okay after this. Sharia, what the fuck am I gonna tell him?”

“There’s nothing you can tell him but the truth. He deserves to know that much, at least.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Y/N, it’s better to get this over with sooner than later. It’s only going to hurt worse if you wait. What would you do anyway, just ignore his calls?”

You grip the steering wheel. “...Maybe. If I have to. I don’t know.”

Sharia sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do with your life. But he will need to know at some point.”

“He’ll hate me,” you blurt out, a tear already rolling down your cheek. You try to stop them from coming, but this is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to cry since it happened. You’ve surprised even yourself with how long you avoided this part. The dam has no choice but to break, sending you into a cascade of tears as you rest your head on the steering wheel.

Sharia’s arms are warm around you, but her embrace does nothing to make you feel better. You feel as if you don’t deserve this kind of reprieve from her. And certainly not from Lucas.

A couple weeks later, you sit in your OBGYN’s waiting room, your body stiff with fear and anxiety.

You haven’t talked to Lucas in the entire time since you went to the club that Friday night. You know there is no way he’d go that long without talking to you, though—which is why you blocked him on every avenue you could think of. To be safe, you also blocked all of this group members, making sure there would be no way for him to get into contact with you.

You feel like you’ve lost your mind with the lengths you’ve gone to—what if he thinks you’re kidnapped or dead?—but you’re more afraid of facing him. The thought of looking in his eyes while your transgression swims in the back of your mind makes your stomach pitch to the floor.

And you would like to think that’s the only thing making you sick these days. But you can’t ignore the odd pains and nausea and sudden spotting even if you wanted to. It’s what has landed you in this doctor’s office today, with your hands tucked between your knees and your head spinning as you try to ignore the bitter taste of bile rising in your throat.

Eventually, you can no longer push it back, and you go to the bathroom to empty your stomach—even though there’s not much there to begin with.

When you leave the restroom, a nurse is standing outside in the lobby, her expectant eyes landing on you.

“Mrs. Wong?”

“That’s me,” you say weakly.

“Hi! Come on back so we can get your vitals. I hope you’re doing okay today…” You follow her into the back rooms to get poked and prodded, your blood pressure and temperature taken and your height and weight jotted down on a chart. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying. Every word sounds like it’s being filtered through a foggy telephone.

You return to reality when she hands you the transparent cup and the pregnancy test to take, and things become even more painfully clear when another nurse comes in to take your blood. You know the blood test results will take longer to come back, but you requested it anyway. You have to be sure.

Despite the nurses’ cheerful demeanor, you feel cold and isolated when you use the test in the small restroom. The feeling only worsens when the doctor confirms the reading and happily shakes your hand, unaware of or unwilling to acknowledge your dread.

It’s positive.

That weekend, you finally unblock Lucas. Your mind is in a tangle while you do it, but you can’t avoid him any longer.

You don’t know if he’ll even answer your call. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Maybe he’s busy with practice or even asleep. But what makes you feel worse is that you know he’d never ignore you if he wasn’t otherwise occupied.

His name only stays on your phone for a few seconds before he’s immediately picking up the video call, his face suddenly appearing in full color before you. He seems panicked, almost dropping the phone in his haste to answer it. When he rights the screen again and sets it on a steady surface, his expression is difficult to decipher. Then it turns into pure discontent.

“Do you have an explanation for this?” You’ve never seen Lucas this irritated before, and it makes you tremble. It can only get worse from here. “I called and texted and nothing got through. I look on your social media and I’m blocked on every platform. What is this, Y/N?”

You can only shake your head. The words are stuck in your throat. You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure how to respond.

“This isn’t a joke, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Your grip on the phone tightens as your stomach ties itself into a knot. You feel sick again, but you can’t throw up now. “Yukhei, I went t-to the doctor, I-I’m pregnant.”

Lucas pauses, and various emotions flit across his face in the span of a few seconds. His eyebrows draw together in something akin to confusion and hurt. “You’re...pregnant? Why the hell did you need to block me for that? Please don’t tell me this about my career again. Baby, listen to me—”

“Yukhei, I’m only 4 weeks.”

Lucas’s words drop off completely. His body stills, and for a moment you wonder if the video has paused. Your palms sweat and your skin prickles. He sits back in his chair and looks off to the side as if he’s trying to gather words. Finally, he says,

“What are you telling me? Because this isn’t what I’m hearing, is it? This is some kind of prank, right?” His voice gets louder and more frantic towards the end, though he struggles to keep from outright yelling at you. “If you want to play games, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say—there’s no excuse for it, but I was drunk, I-I was lonely, I just don’t know—” You form a fist with your left hand, digging your nails into your palm, and the warm metal of your ring against your skin threatens to burn you again.

Lucas lowers his head and pushes his hands through his hair. He keeps his head down like this for a while as you stumble and try to explain yourself, your words devolving into barely decipherable sobs.

“Shut up. Just shut up!” His words are muffled from him covering his face. He’s never talked to you like that before, which makes you want to cry more, but you don’t say another word. “I just don’t want to hear it. I’ve sat here everyday and thought of you, counting down days until I could come back to the U.S. to see you, and this is what you give me.”

You merely sit and listen with your heart trying to burst in your chest. His words feel like knives being thrown at you; the pain is practically physical.

When he finally takes his hands away from his face and looks up, his eyes are wet and red with tears. “This is impossible. I need time to think about this.”

“I-impossible? Wait, Yukhei—”

He hangs up the call before you can finish speaking, though you aren’t sure what more you could’ve said to him anyway.

With nothing but your screen staring back at you, a sense of unease seeps into your body and makes your limbs stiff. You want to reach out for him, want to make him see that you never intended to hurt him this way. You don’t want to lose everything you’ve built this soon. And yet, you can already see it all slipping through your hands.

You are more alone than ever.

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