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#the triple take i did until I saw my blog and realized i had scheduled one of those sea slugs for today amongst my like 100 queued rbs
snekbagels · 1 year
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Happy birthday! 🐌
fhgegdg thanks!!
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boymeetsweevil · 5 years
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Breathe you in
Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung
Word Count: ~7.8k
Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol
Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!
A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!
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It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.
“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.
“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”
“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.
“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.
She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”
Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.
“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”
“Of course they do,” you sigh again.
“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”
You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”
Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.
“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”
“Thanks, Bee.”
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Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.
When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.
“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.
There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.
“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”
You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.
“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”
A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.
douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.
Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.
A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.
“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.
“Yes?”
“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”
“Hello, Sir.”
“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.
You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.
A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on. 
Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.
“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”
“That’s not my name.”
The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.
“Taehyung?”
“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.
The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.
“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.
“What are you looking for?”
“The kitchen,” he says casually.
“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”
“I came to bring you food.”
The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.
“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”
“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”
“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”
He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.
“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”
“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.
You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.
“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.
“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.
“I didn’t mean here!”
He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.
“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”
“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”
“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”
“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”
“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”
“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”
“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.
“Why are you still here?”
“Because you’re hurting.”
“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”
He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.
Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.
Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.
His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.
He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.
And Bee was right.
So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.
That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.
“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”
“What is there to even say?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.
It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.
It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.
After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.
Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.
“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”
“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”
“What are you? President of my fan club?”
“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”
You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.
“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.
“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.
“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”
“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.
Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”
“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”
“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.
“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”
“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”
“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.
“Bullshit.”
“It smells like armpit,” you try again.
“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”
You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.
“What’s the matter now?”
“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”
He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”
“Whatever! I’m still scared.”
“Do you want to try it, though?”
You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.
“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.
Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.
“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.
“It was okay. Do it again.”
He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.
“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.
He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.
“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.
“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.
His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.
A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.
“You get where I’m going with this, right?”
He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.
“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.
“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.
“Yeah?”
“Then, yeah.”
You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.
Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.
“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.
“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.
“Can you spit on it?”
You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.
“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”
You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”
“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.
You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”
Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.
“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”
His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.
“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.
“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”
“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”
“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”
“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”
Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.
“How did you know?”
“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”
“Tae, I’m so—”
He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.
“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”
“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”
“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”
You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”
He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.
“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Answer me.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.
“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”
He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.
“Tae, what the hell!”
Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.
“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.
His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.
His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.
“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”
“What, like sex?”
“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”
“Yes.”
“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”
“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.
“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”
You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”
He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.
“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.
“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”
“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”
You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.
“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”
After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.
He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.
“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.
“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.
When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.
“Tae, wait, I’m not—”
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.
“Do you think I actually care?”
“Do you really not?”
“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”
“I’m clean,” you pout.
“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.
While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.
“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”
He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.
The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.
“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.
The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore. 
As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.
Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.
You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”
“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.
When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.
“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”
“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.
“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”
“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”
“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.
You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke
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chloemill · 5 years
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On jury duty, a Tinder date and what’s in my coat pocket
GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM/BALTIMORE/AMERICA depending on your taste in entertainment!
It has been, honestly, a fucking eternity since I last wrote and by that I mean about two years maybe? I don’t know how any of us POSSIBLY carried on that long without hearing my bullshit thoughts in a long-form medium. I did okay because lucky for me, I get to hear said thoughts running through my head 24 fucking 7, which is why I have emotional problems best addressed with a mental health professional - BUT! We beat on, blogs against the current
Seeing as I just rolled back into town, I’ll give a brief State of the Union: I work in fitness now, which is, as you might’ve guessed, an absolutely thrilling environment for someone extremely fraught with body image issues! Just kidding.* It’s going rather well, I think. I waited tables for three plus years, and those of you who have ever interacted with me for more than 30 seconds are probably aware that I am... shall we say... not the right fit for the profession. I’m pretty good at turning it on and pretending like I give a shit (I have a very expensive degree in the theatrical arts to prove it) up to a point. But then people start acting like assholes and my tolerance level for that tomfoolery is subzero, so I really can’t be messing around in in the restaurant industry anymore. I’m pretty sure they don’t miss me, either, though.
More life updates - I am single now which, of course, means I have been on Tinder and as the prophet Troye Sivan once said, My My My! do I have thoughts on that. I’m thinking actually that maybe I should do a full post on it? Yes? Later? Tell me if I should so I actually do it because we all know I can’t motivate myself to type anything longer than 280 characters. Names and pictures will be blocked out to protect the innocent BUT, as a teaser, I will tell you briefly about one date I went on a few months ago. We had a perfectly lovely time getting drinks and chatting and I was like wow what a grand old time that was! The next day I went back to his profile to stalk him a little more and saw that, in the twelve hours since last we saw each other, HE ADDED “Still looking for someone that meets my high standards!” TO HIS BIO and proceeded to (unsuccessfully) hit me up for sex three (3) nights in a row. Naturally, I ghosted him because 1. k and 2. ……..k? He is currently a law student at a very Prestigious™ school so hopefully he can meet a maiden fair in those hallowed halls that meets these elevated standards. Apparently the bar was set a little lower for after-hours activities, but everyone’s gotta compromise somewhere I guess
NOW THAT THE UPDATES ARE OVER, it’s only fair that I tell you about my day. Those of you who are following along on Twitter (colloquially known as The Hellsite) might already know that I am currently being a beacon of truth, power and JUSTICE at jury duty. This, somewhat embarrassingly, was my fourth, count ‘em FOURTH summons. My first, which I think was in 2017?, I postponed because I was out of town. The second - which honestly I was planning to not mention until about thirty seconds ago when I decided, fuck it - I straight up forgot about until I found the paper a few months after the date and was like “hm, surely this isn’t bad enough to warrant jail?” and forgot about it again. The third I postponed yet again because my parents were in town and didn’t they deserve the pleasure of their eldest daughter’s company for a few goddamned days, after all they’ve done for me? And then the great city of New York sent me a letter in the mail saying “get your negligent ass down here and schedule a time in person or we are going to smack you down HARD with the hand of the law” (I have loosely paraphrased but this was the gist).
So in maybe November-ish, I went downtown, straight up terrified I was going to get fined or in trouble somehow or something, but they just politely let me pick a day to serve and were like ok, see you then, loser! Frankly, the most significant thing about that day was going through the metal detector on my way in. They don’t make you take your coat off (nice!) but you do have to empty your coat pockets (boo!) but I didn’t have anything in my pockets (nice!) so I started walking through. Just before I did, though, the security guard asked me to check my pockets one more time, and as I am a Woman Of The Law now, I obliged. Turns out there was something small in my pocket, felt kinda like paper but I figured hey, may as well take it out just in case! Reader, I wish I was joking when I tell you I pulled a goddamn (unused) at-home UTI testing strip out of my pocket in front of God and everyone. I don’t know why I had it in my pocket and I don’t know how long it had been there, but there it was, plain as fucking day and marked in BIG OL’ LETTERS for the world to read. To make matters worse, they’d already sent my bag through the x-ray, so I had nowhere to stash it. With what I can only assume was primal, animalistic terror in my eyes, I scanned the area for a trash can, but found nothing. So I was forced to gingerly place my UTI testing strip in this poor security guard’s hand - a man just trying to make an honest living, who asked for none of this - and the eye contact we made was some I won’t soon forget.
Needless to say, today I TRIPLE checked my coat pockets (one check for every jury duty summons I rebuffed, how apropos!) before walking through the x-ray and we thankfully, we suffered no similar surprises. I have been in this room for about five hours, plus an unnecessarily long lunch break. Highlights include, but are not limited to:
1. The EXTREMELY early 2000s video they make you watch explaining how a courtroom works, featuring many actors saying things like “No further questions, your honor.” and “The jury has reached a verdict!” and “We are showing you this because you are all idiots and you can do absolutely fucking nothing about it”
2. The man next to me who is snoring loudly. I hope wherever he is right now, it’s peaceful
3. The minor lap dance I recently gave said sleeping man next to me whilst trying to climb over him to walk to the water fountain without waking him up (fortunately or, depending how you feel about me, unfortunately for him he didn’t wake up)
4. An elder several rows in front of me who keeps hacking so loudly I want to escort him to the nearest urgent care :(
5. The first hour of waiting, when I, scrolling Twitter, clicked a video of those stupid fucking Covington Catholic school boys without realizing my volume was all fucking way up and a muffled “IT’S NOT RAPE IF YOU LIKE IT” played from my phone in this silent ass room for all my fellow Americans to hear. Sorry guys
6. Had a nice salad a little bit ago
7. Wrote this
8. Only a couple hours left!
9. But they haven’t called a SINGLE name which probably means I’ll have to come back tomorrow :(
10. I’ve forgotten what the original premise of this list was so it’s time to stop
If I’m stuck here again tomorrow all day in this dry ass dusty ass room that makes my eyes hurt, I will surely post again. If they have mercy and release me, well, let’s hope I’ll post again because honestly it took two years to get to this point and it took being trapped in the same room for six hours for me to crank this out. Till next time - take care of yourselves, fuck those MAGA kids and please remember to check your pockets before you approach a metal detector
*I am not kidding
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lotsofdogs · 6 years
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The Great Big Postpartum Post
Today’s blog post has been a long time coming! Well, I guess it hasn’t been brewing for that long considering Ryder is just now 8 weeks old but it has taken me a lot longer to find the time to sit down and type up everything about this postpartum period than I anticipated.
I’ve actually been working on bits and pieces of this post for weeks and thought about breaking it up but decided against it so everything is in one place. Today’s post touches on everything from Ryder and breastfeeding to newborn sleep and the transition into life with two children. Brace yourselves because you guys are getting a VERY wordy post comin’ at you today!
Ryder
Oh Ryder! My sweet little boy! Ryder is such a gift in our lives and I absolutely love being his mother.
I don’t quite know how to put the way I feel about this little guy into words but he has a personality that feels almost calming to me which I know sounds crazy but there’s something about the way he locks eyes with everyone as he coos away that makes me feel like he’s going to be an introspective and thoughtful little boy. We all say he seems older than his 8 weeks somehow and I cannot wait to watch his personality develop and unfold as time goes on.
As far as babies go, he’s pretty darn easygoing and as Ryan likes to say, “He’s a good baby… but he’s still a baby,” which I think perfectly sums things up around here. It’s basically our way of saying he’s not too challenging but newborns are never a cakewalk! Ryder is admittedly an easier baby than our first (I hate to compare but I think it’s only natural for those with two kids to admit that all babies are different and some are easier than others) and Ryder truly feels like an angel baby to me because most of the time he’s just so content.
He loves to kick and coo and look at lights and fans and faces. High-pitched baby talk works wonders with Ryder and brings about the cutest little expressions that seem to showcase 5,000 emotions in 2.5 seconds. He’ll look at us with a big, gummy smile that will morph into a skeptical look that will quickly morph into a judgmental baby face and I’m trying to soak them all up!
It’s so neat to see Ryder’s personality develop right before my eyes and the past few weeks have brought about tons of smiles, gurgles and sweet baby chirps and coos that I just adore. He loves people and will lock eyes and stare at anyone and everyone who meets him.
Ryder is out of all of his newborn clothes and into 0-3 month and some 3 month clothing already. When he was born, I thought we lucked out and would be able to reuse all of Chase’s old clothes since they both have summer birthdays but I am beginning to wonder if Ryder’s size might not make this a possibility!
I love his squishy thighs, the milky bubbles he blows, the way his gummy smile creeps into his eyes and overtakes his whole face, his fluffy mohawk and the way he’ll come off my chest after nursing and give me the cutest little flirty smiles. It melts me every time and I am so grateful for this little boy.
Breastfeeding
Breastfeeding admittedly got off to a bit of a stressful start. When we were in the hospital and I attempted to nurse Ryder for the first time, he latched well but would only take one or two powerful sucks before coming off my breast. We now realize this was likely because he couldn’t breathe well while nursing. Once he was admitted to the NICU, I spent the next few days setting alarms and exclusively pumping which resulted in some incredibly sore nipples and stressed me out because after my first pump, I was pumping next to nothing or nothing at all. I was assured that this was normal and encouraged to continue pumping.
During this experience and also in hindsight, I felt incredibly grateful that I was a second-time mom because I cannot imagine how much more stressed I would’ve felt to have to learn how to pump immediately and then try to navigate nursing for the first time. I also know I am very, very lucky that our NICU stay was relatively short and I was able to nurse Ryder after a few days. I know this is not the case for many and I will always feel so grateful for everything.
Once my milk came in and I was able to nurse Ryder, breastfeeding improved dramatically. I felt my uterus begin to cramp, my bleeding increased and my body seemed to physically respond to nursing Ryder in the most incredible way.
Nursing Ryder in the beginning was a very different experience from learning to breastfeed Chase. It’s truthfully been much, much easier this time. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that Chase had a tongue tie that resulted in bleeding, scabbing and a lot of pain and I needed to use nipple cream like it was my job. I remember dreading the moment Chase would need to latch again because it would hurt so much until he had his frenulum clipped. Another thing I believe has contributed to an easier experience this time around is the simple fact that this is my second time breastfeeding. I truly believe nursing Chase for 15 months permanently changed my nipples and paved the way for Ryder a bit. Is that weird? Unfounded? Maybe! But whatever it is, I’ll take it!
Ryder is nursing well and seems to be a very efficient eater. He rarely wants to nurse for an extended period of time but he definitely wants to nurse often. I am nursing on demand at the moment which means that some days I feel like all I do is nurse, especially when Ryder wants to snack or cluster feed all day long. Ryder will often stay latched well for several minutes but then he likes to come on and off my breast and intersperse nursing with looking at me or looking around the room and cooing. This will often result in a very messy and milky nursing experience (my breasts will often spray milk or drip milk when he breaks his latch), so we’re going through a lot of milk-soaked burp cloths and blankets over here right now.
One obstacle that surfaced for the first few weeks of Ryder’s life that was somewhat related to breastfeeding was a pretty horrible diaper rash. His poor little booty was so red and he had little bloody sores on his bottom. The pediatrician had my breast milk tested to see if Ryder might have a milk protein allergy but everything came back normal. His diaper rash cleared up dramatically around 6 weeks and I think a HUGE part of this was the fact that Ryder started pooping less and his butt finally had time to recover between poops.
In the interim, we did a lot of naked baby time to give his butt a chance to breathe in between diaper changes and tried a bunch of diaper rash remedies, creams and oils. Most diaper rash remedies didn’t work well for Ryder (even a prescription cream) but Triple Paste seemed to work the best for him and we went through that stuff like it was going out of style!
Sleeping
My expectations for newborn sleep were really, really low. Chase was up nearly every two hours for feedings for well over a month or two and when I looked back on my monthly update posts for Chase, I saw that he was still waking up at least two times a night at 4-5 months old. This is what I was expecting from Ryder so I cannot tell you how incredible it has been to have a child who seems to sleep well. It’s pretty darn amazing. But I say this in the same breath that I say we are doing NOTHING different this time around with Ryder so if you have a baby that is a horrible sleeper, you’re doing a GREAT job and you’re doing nothing wrong. I feel you. Chase’s sleep was rough but in the beginning I had no point of comparison and thought all babies woke up a million times a night. (In this instance my naivety as a new mom worked as a benefit for me.)
Once I started to realize some babies were, in fact, sleeping through the night when we were still up all the time with Chase, I began reading baby sleep books which mostly made me feel like a big fat failure. As a second-time mom, I now realize some babies are just better sleepers and some parents just get really lucky. That’s not to say following sleep training techniques and implementing schedules doesn’t work for babies — I think they totally DO! — but babies are so different and as someone who has had a baby who was a pretty awful sleeper and someone who has a baby who seems to be a naturally good sleeper, I just feel like that’s an important thing to say to any moms out there who might be reading this post with bags under their eyes after months of horrible sleep. You’re doing great and it will get better! That’s something I also carry with me this time around — bad sleep DOES come to an end and it happens faster than you might think. Understanding that all of the baby struggles are temporary somehow makes it easier this time, too.
In the beginning, Ryder was up every three(ish) hours in the night. Some nights were filled with more frequent feedings but as the weeks went on, the time between Ryder’s feedings stretched out more and more. Right now I typically feed him before we go to bed between 8 and 9 p.m. Ryder will then typically wake up between midnight and 2 a.m. and again around 4 or 5 a.m. The fact that I am usually getting at least one solid 4-5 hour stretch of sleep between nursing sessions feels like an incredible gift and has been a huge help when it comes to my energy level every day. We’ve even had a few nights where Ryder skips his middle-of-the-night feed and wakes up to nurse for the first time between 4 and 5 a.m. (I pretty much wanted to high-five everyone I saw the next day after those nights!)
Of course some nights are still rough around here — just last night I found myself pacing around our room and rocking him from 2:30-3:30 a.m. — and I admittedly found myself throwing a dirty diaper in the washing machine last week because I was so out of it but, on the whole, I am counting my blessings in the newborn sleep department at the moment.
Physical Recovery and Changes
My physical recovery from this pregnancy has honestly been pretty good. Labor was fast and my delivery was pretty easy (thank you, epidural) and I only needed two stitches so I wasn’t too sore for too long. I continued to bleed and experience some serious postpartum night sweats up until around 5 weeks postpartum.
I started walking for exercise (and sanity!) when Ryder was about a week and a half old. I kept my pace nice and easy and gradually worked up to walking three(ish) miles almost every day. I feel really good now and just started to return to boot camp classes this week.
I am definitely easing into fitness and currently modifying my workouts quite a bit. After I received the okay from my doctor at my 6-week postpartum checkup, I began doing some moderate strength training in our garage but only a few days and every workout left me feeling so sore!
From an aesthetic standpoint, I’m softer everywhere and the cellulite is REAL over here but I’m not really focused on that right now. I’m not weighing myself regularly (I didn’t before I got pregnant and don’t plan to start now) but I hopped on the scale for the sake of this post and saw I’m up about 12-15 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I know from my experience with Chase that the final 10-15 pounds of pregnancy weight gain took the longest to lose and it took me a solid 9 months to lose it all after my first pregnancy.
My plan for postpartum weight loss is the same this time around: I plan to focus on being as healthy as I can, work out regularly to make myself feel strong (mentally and physically) and trust that my body will do what is best. Breastfeeding is a priority for me and along with nursing comes ridiculous hunger so I feel like I’m an eating machine and I wouldn’t want to mess with anything that could effect my milk supply.
I say all of this in one breath but I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking I’m completely confident with my postpartum body. I feel secure in my body and so grateful for what it has done but getting dressed feels awkward since I’m in a weird transition stage where maternity stuff doesn’t really work and my regular clothes all cling to my body and feel too small. I am just not dwelling on my physical appearance and I am trying to put my focus where it matters — on my two boys — and remind myself that my body just did something amazing and it should look different right now.
Despite what the media and social media portrays, I know it’s not realistic to look like I didn’t just give birth 8 weeks after our baby arrived so I’m trying my best to embrace the softness, cellulite and body changes and focus on the incredible reason my body looks different. It just produced a HUMAN and that’s pretty freaking incredible!
Transition to Two Children
In today’s post I’m focusing on how I’m personally handling the transition into life with two kids but you may read more about how big brother Chase is handling the transition in Chase’s Three Year Update. 
To be completely honest, the hardest part about this postpartum period has been the transition from one child to two. This is not because Chase is acting out or we have a colicky baby or anything dramatic but simply juggling two children is very, very different than one baby. There’s basically NO downtime and every day feels a bit chaotic right now.
When Chase was a baby, I could count on his nap time to work but now I can count on one hand the number of times Chase and Ryder’s naps have coincided which means I am constantly feeling behind on everything. I cannot blog or get work done nearly as often as I used to and our house rarely looks clean but I know this is a season and I’m trying to embrace this time as best as possible.
Possibly the biggest blessing in this postpartum transition period was having my mom here to help after Ryder was born. So many fellow moms encouraged me to accept help during this time and I’m so, so glad I did even if my first inclination was to say, “I’ve got this!”
My mom mostly helped with Chase after Ryder was born which is exactly what we wanted and needed most. Ryan got one week of paternity leave so his time off was all used up while we were still in the hospital with Ryder. Having my mom’s help during this time and right after Ryan went back to work was so incredible and absolutely helped with the transition. Her help made a huge difference to me during the first couple of weeks with two kids and I know how lucky we were to have her here!
When Ryder “woke up” (aka was no longer sleeping all day every day), I had quite a few meltdown days. Seemingly overnight, Ryder needed more attention and soothing to be content and on the days when Chase wouldn’t nap or didn’t nap well, he’d often be in a serious MOOD by 4 p.m. Let’s just say the hours from 4 p.m. until bedtime often felt (and can feel) like an eternity. This is the time of day that is still the most challenging for us and it can feel really long and draining some days since it’s typically the time of day when Ryder seems the most hands-on (they call it the “witching hour” for a reason!) and, depending on his mood, Chase can be needier and whinier than usual.
Ryan often doesn’t arrive home from work until after 7 p.m. (this isn’t a complaint, just a reality) and there have been more than a few days that he’ll arrive home to me telling him I just want to face-plant into bed. (Side note: My back often feels totally destroyed by the end of the day from all the rocking, bouncing and soothing. I don’t remember this happening with Chase but the pain I feel in my mid/upper back is killer at the end of some of the rougher days! Has this happened to any of you!?)
As far as the impact of two kids on our marriage, all is well over here but in full transparency our time to really connect as a couple feels rather limited on a daily basis. I swear an entire week can easily go by where I feel like I’ve barely talked to my husband! By the time Ryan is home from work and we tackle the bedtime routine, the only thing I want to do is go to sleep and since we both seem to fall asleep the minute Ryder goes down for the night, it can be a little challenging to get that one-on-one time to talk and connect. We’re trying our best but many times during the week our conversations feel fragmented by bursts of one child needing this or that or family playtime. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love building airplanes or playing dragons with Chase, Ryder and Ryan but playing dragons with my husband is very different from actual adult communication!
It’s more clear than ever to me that we need to be intentional in our time together as a couple and we’re slowly getting into a better rhythm. I’m not quite ready to schedule a date night and leave Ryder with a babysitter (I still need to pump and get him used to taking a bottle again) but hopefully that isn’t too far off! In the meantime, we’re doing our best to keep communication open, acknowledge our feelings and lean on each other even if we’re not getting as much couple time as usual these days! Thankfully we both seem to understand that this time with a newborn is so fleeting and we are just trying to go with the flow and be great parents and great spouses even though the parenting role admittedly — and understandably — seems to be taking the front seat at the moment.
Sooo there you have it! A bazillion words and way more than you guys all probably cared to know about this postpartum period! I will likely do a followup post to this one in the coming weeks much like I did after Chase was born to address any lingering questions, so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to touch on that I may have missed! And if you made it to the end of this post, thank you so much for reading about this special and crazy time in our lives!
[Read More ...] https://www.pbfingers.com/the-great-big-postpartum-post/
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