#c-section tw

Mila wasn’t exactly sure when Jack would return home, but as the weeks went on, she got slightly more anxious. at 32 weeks she got an email, saying that he was fine, but their mission had been extended and he probably wouldn’t make it back in time for the due date. She dealt with it, knowing that she had support if she should need it, but she always hoped that Jack would make it back in time. At 36 weeks pregnant, Mila received word about the accident. She wasn’t told much, but that seemed to sink in was that Jack wasn’t coming back and that he’d never meet their child.  It seemed all a little too much for Mila to really grasp hold of, and as such, stress and other complications saw to her daughter being delivered by emergency C-section at 38 weeks. it took a lot for Mila to even hold her daughter, @calxlucas being there to be the first one to end up holding the infant, the first to see the baby’s face. Mila couldn’t for the life of her look at her daughter and not see her late husbands features reflected in the infant. everything about her just screamed Jack, and Mila just couldn’t deal with it. without Cal there, Freya wouldn’t have been given the love she needed when she was first brought into the world, she wouldn’t have had that connection with someone, or be given the decency of a smile. In many ways, Mila hasn’t forgiven herself for this, but she also couldn’t be more grateful for cal and his involvement in Freya’s arrival.

Mila attempted to do what she needed for her daughter, but the more she forced herself into it the further away from her she wished she were. it was a week before Mila even put a name on the birth certificate, and it was only through the pestering of her mother that she did so. the name Freya wasn’t actually one that Mila had chosen, but it was the name that Jack had mentioned in his last conversation with her, a name that he said he’d really come to love, so Mila decided to give her daughter the name. There were Pavlov traditions she had to follow and without Freya earning an even longer name than she had already been given, Mila had chosen to give Freya a middle name relating to her father, choosing Jacqueline. the French name seemingly upsetting Mila’s mother, but she didn’t let that bother her. She allowed for Pavlov tradition to follow by giving Freya a second middle name, handing down the name Ksenya. If she were to follow her family’s who tradition, Freya would be Freya Jacqueline Ksenya Dragomira Pavlova- Fallon, but Mila chose otherwise, settling on Freya Jacqueline Ksenya Minkova-Fallon. 

It’s safe to say that without Cal, Mila wouldn’t have ever pulled herself out of her depression as well as she did. It was rough enough to deal with the grief of losing her husband, but when evolution had made sure that his genes were represented in every single one of Freya’s features— Mila couldn’t deal. she spent her days in bed, attempting to sleep but never really being able to. she was well and truly numb. Cal moving in didn’t change that at first, but it did allow her time to be able to grieve the way she needed to. He made sure her children were fed, even when it came to reminding her that she needed to do the thing with the pump so that Freya could get a feed, he made sure her twelve year old son got to school and home safely, that he did his homework and that he wasn’t too much of a shit for his teachers. he made sure Mila ate and drank water, that she bathed, washed her hair (even when he had to do this for her) and got outside to get some sun occasionally. He took her and Freya to every single appointment, every single follow up and every session she had to attend and through all of that, he stayed. Looking back at it now, Mila realises that he did all of this not out of dedication to the family, but because he loves her. she didn’t see it then, but maybe she had too much else to focus on to notice. 

Mila found herself slowly getting closer to Freya, watching Cal fall asleep with her on his chest and laying down beside them, just to learn to close that distance between them and then eventually letting her fall asleep on her own chest (obviously making sure Cal was there at first, just in case). Eventually Mila got to know her daughter through Cal, and she’s sworn ever since that she’d never let herself fall so low again. Cal was eventually able to move out, mila functioning on her own again, able to handle a busy life of a single mother of two. the next two years would prove very difficult with the murder of grandfather six months after her birth, Freya wasn’t out of the woods yet and while Mila tried her hardest to be present and there for both her children— losing a parent makes that very difficult. Cal, perhaps without knowing it, stepping into the father role again for both her children, but this time never really stepped out of it. 

Freya became close with her aunt @nadyaxpavlova (even though her mother and aunt’s relationship was strained), her uncle @alexxpavlov and his fiancé Sophie. the infant attached to Sophie with ease, which Mila appreciated. Sophie was a kind woman that Mila was looking forward to having as part of the Pavlov family, especially seeing how she was with her children. The attempted hit on her brothers life resulted in the end of Sophie’s own, and once again, the family was thrown into grief. it was around this time that Cal’s presence maybe lessened slightly. Mila expected this, Alex needed his best friend and right hand, and there was more to deal with in the family. 

Freya grew never lacking in father figures. While she loves her uncle, the bond that her and Cal developed continued to grow. Every holiday, every father’s day, any excuse to make a craft project at day care or school, Freya demanded to make something for Cal. Paintings, key chains, mug upon mug— you name it, Freya has probably made and/or decorated it for Cal, all with DAD printed on each. She also likes to make her brother @timoteixmacgregor anything music related and has been taking piano lessons for a year or so, so that she can learn to play like him. They had always had a special bond, even with the age gap, and as Freya grew, Mila was thankful for that gap. Timo was able to help Mila with Freya more than she ever realised. He loves his sister, and she loves him. 

The family’s influence on Freya’s development didn’t go unnoticed; she’s sarcastic and sassy and enjoys chaos a little too much for her mothers liking. Traits that Cal, Alex and Timo all seem to have. Freya is a very outspoken, multilingual child who is determined, headstrong and independent. Bossy? Sure! But call her that and she’ll turn around and quote Beyoncé’s “I’m not bossy, I’m the boss” quote to you before walking away. She has strong relationships with the family from her father’s side, spending some weekends and holidays with them, which Mila likes because she gets to be with her cousins and still gets to know her fathers family. 

         Once you’re pregnant long enough you start to assume that you’ll always be pregnant. Or at least that had been the case Nadia Joseph Hirsch. The surprise of being with child had quickly turned into a norm of sorts. It wasn’t comfortable of course and every day brought new challenges but for all intents and purposes Nadia had gotten the hang out it. She knew what foods to avoid, how to lull herself to sleep at night despite all the aches and pains, hell she’d even managed to get a nursery finished with only the occasional help from a reluctant Greyson. If there were a championship for being pregnant Nadia surely would have found herself in the finals but it had to come to an end eventually. 

        She just wasn’t expecting for the end to be now. Just shy of thirty three weeks into her pregnancy Nadia had decided it would be a good idea to travel to Phoenix for a client. In her defense the trip to Arizona had only meant to last the weekend and her due date wasn’t for another seven weeks. She should have been completely fine but the fetus inside of her seemed to have other plans entirely. The pain struck shortly before noon. In the middle of talking her clients through color swatches her water breaks. She looked down at her drenched open toe heels only to burst into uncontrollable tears. “No, no, not in Arizona!”

         Nadia doesn’t remember getting to a hospital. Only that somehow she got to one and was rushed into a delivery room before she had the right of mind to call someone. She doesn’t have time to wallow in the loneliness that was bringing a life into this world all on her own until later. Much like giving birth by herself in Phoenix, Arizona a C-section hadn’t exactly been a part of Nadia’s birth plan but when doctors notify her of her baby being in breech, she left with no choice but to receive one. 

        That evening when it was all over she thought she had scaled Everest, stood at its peak, exhilarated. For the first time since her water broke with her daughter wrapped in a bundle of blankets in her arms, Nadia Joseph-Hirsch didn’t feel so alone. “Welcome to the world Aurora Hirsch. We’ve really got to work on your timing.” 

  — the ??? sleepless night: “TEN PIEDAD DE TU MADRE!”

        Wails bounce from the paper thin walls of Nadia’s studio apartment. Echoing through the halls and no doubt disturbing the neighbors who didn’t tolerated her even before the introduction of a screaming child. Rory had only been the likable one who smoothed things over with his boyish charm. In his absence came immediate shunning. It would have been comical it it weren’t also annoying as hell. Dark hues barely peel themselves open as the tired mother drags herself up from the makeshift bed of blankets. Most nights Nadia barely made it to her own room. Opting instead to sleep nestled into the plush carpeting of her daughter’s nursery in an attempt to cut down her response time altogether. If Aurora needed her, she wanted to be right there even if that meant she rarely got a good night sleep. It wasn’t like she got much sleeping done to begin with anyway. 

        “Mi amor, ¿qué pasa?” Nadia questioned the infant, scooping her up into her arms and gently swaying her. Google had said babies responded positively to rocking motions but Arie’s cries only seemed to climb in volume. “I just changed your diaper twenty minutes ago, so it can’t be that. Are you hungry?” Except it couldn’t be because Nadia had fed her before changing her diaper. Nadia hated the guessing game, she knew her daughter couldn’t talk but why hadn’t anyone invented some other way to know what was wrong yet? It was 2015 for god sake. They could send a man to the moon and yet no one could tell her what her crying daughter wanted. “Come on, work with me here, pajarito.” The brunette urged as the child in her arms wriggled uncontrollably. Brushing the back of her hand against Aurora’s temple Nadia checked for a fever. She breathes a sigh of relief when she finds none.

           The only thing worse than a fussy child was a sick one. Aurora’s continuous shrieks pierced through Nadia’s skin as sharply as any knife ever could. Her small arsenal of baby caring knowledge was quickly diminishing with every trick in her tool kit rendered futile the moment she used it. Her diaper was dry, she refused milk, opening the window to let some air in only made her scream louder. Nadia was beginning to lose her ever loving mind. At this point she wanted to cry along with the infant in her arms but instead she began to sing. “Feet on the ground, head in the sky. It's okay, I know nothing's wrong, nothing,” Nadia wasn’t sure why the only song she could think of happened to be one of her ex’s favorites but Arie was his daughter as much as hers, with any luck the song would have the same effect on their daughter as it did on Rory.

“Oh! I got plenty of time Oh! You got light in your eyes.” Nadia continued to sing in a hushed whisper, swaying her daughter along with the melody. “And you're standing here beside me, I love the passing of time. Never for money, always for love.” Miraculously the familiar tune seemed to actually be working, Aurora’s wails replaced instead with happy cooing noises. Nadia’s pause in song was immediately noticed by the fussy child but before she could begin crying again Nadia continued singing. “Cover up and say goodnight, say goodnight.”

Amanda scrutinizes herself in the full length mirror. She squints, turns her head from side to side, stares at all the curves that weren’t there before. She’s been feeling pretty dumpy for over a year now. First it was lethargic, then round and uncoordinated, now she’s just pudgy and pouchy and nothing fits quite where it used to. None of these things make her sound sexy. She huffs, blowing a tress of blonde hair from her face.

“This is never going to work.” she sighs, reaching to unclasp the rather intricately designed brassiere.

She decides, right then and there, that this little idea she had is a waste of time. She’s going to return the whole ensemble and forget it ever happened.

Hudson makes a gurgling sound on the bed, his tiny fists scrunching up like his nose. Amanda watches him for a minute, reaching for him when his watery gaze connects with hers.

“I’m not mad at you,” she promises, as though the small boy can understand. “this just isn’t what I expected.”

He quiets in her arms, little hiccups pushing his saliva out onto her shoulder. She strokes his downy mouse brown hair, jiggling him against her bare breasts as she shifts from foot to foot. She’s not lying. This isn’t what she expected. What she expected went out the window as soon as her doctor insisted on a c-section. At the memory, she winces. It didn’t seem so bad at the time, the whole thing had happened so fast and she was feeling pretty woozy. There had been so many loud voices but Olivia cut through them all, her warm hand drawing patterns between Amanda’s limp fingers and whispering things she can’t remember now. And then there was Hudson, this squaking red faced little thing that she couldn’t quite manage to hold at first. She was so tired, and so happy, tears streamed down her face as Olivia had maneuvered him onto her chest. Amanda had laughed absently about how slimy he was, Olivia guiding her hand to his back where a thick sort of fluff appeared to insulate him. He was so new, so beautiful, that she had never expected how ugly she would feel after.

She’s been avoiding mirrors, even with her clothes on she feels disfigured. It’s like everyone can see the pink railroad track beneath her sweater, even when they can’t. The guide book they gave her about it wasn’t even very useful. It listed things like: Try to avoid stairs, bumps in the road, getting sick, sneezing, coughing, heavy breathing, any and all possible movement. Those things were true. What it did not list (or not very well) were things like: You’re going to hate yourself, your tummy will be a cross between a lumpy pillow and a gutter ditch, nothing will look like it fits you, you’ll cry about it. A lot. Some days you’ll say horrible things to the people you love. Some days you’ll hate your baby. These last two are, only semi arguably, the worst.

Olivia has been so kind and supportive and loving. Like she understands, even when she doesn’t. Amanda is thankful that Hudson seems to be the only one with any signs of developing telepathy, even if it’s just his emotions feeding off of hers. She is also thankful that he shouldn’t remember any of this in adulthood.

Hudson’s lips pucker on her collar, sucking and fussing, until she moves him to her breast. He is greedy when he feeds, something she doesn’t mind all too much. His head is the perfect barrier between her breasts and the mirror, so the activity serves dual purpose for them both.

As he feeds, Amanda surfs the internet. Google, delete. Google, delete. She types in things like:

Postnatal depression, cesarian horror stories (this wasn’t one of her finest ideas), cesarian scar healing process, how to feel sexy again, sex drive after pregnancy, are babies telepathic?

She wipes the search history again, switching Hudson to her other breast. If she listens hard enough, she can hear Noah snoring in the other room. He’s napped for much too long and she should probably wake him, but instead she looks up something else. The letters flash as she types, the bar after them appearing and reappearing, mocking her. When she presses the search button, results pop up instantly.

Lingerie for a c-section.

647,000 results waiting for her to peruse. The first looks the most promising, and so she clicks it. As the page loads, Hudson squirms again after having had his fill of milk. Without speaking she puts him over her shoulder again, beginning a rhythm of steady pats against his back.

Lighting up her screen is a company that makes lingerie to cover c-section scars, there aren’t a huge variety of styles, but what they have actually looks pretty nice. She reads a few reviews and an interview with the founder, whatever she’s stumbled upon doesn’t look half bad. The design reminds her of a corset, only it begins just below the breasts and sort of fans out near where her panties would begin. It doesn’t need to be taken off. This, for Amanda, is the true selling point.

“What do you think?” she asks her son, breathy against his ear, as she deposits a small kiss to the milky smelling skin there.

He burps on her in response.

“I thought so too.” she says.

They have one in black that seems to be just what she needs, it would even fit with the bra that is now thrown haphazardly across the bed (she’s still wearing the panties). Before she has time to convince herself not to, she’s placed an order.

…

The afternoon it arrives, almost two weeks later, Amanda paces nervously. Putting it on, taking it off again. She looks better, feels better, but it’s still not her. She huffs, takes several hasty breaths, fidgeting nervously as she tugs and pulls and readjusts her outfit. Her palms are clammy and her skin catches damply on every piece of fabric she touches.

“Stop.” she scolds herself, pushing back her hair with a huff.

She checks the bedside alarm clock one more time before rushing out of the room in her robe. She hasn’t worn it since before she got pregnant, the silk not quite giving the same silhouette that it used to.

Olivia’s key in the lock makes her jump, the ex detective practically leaping behind the kitchen counter to cover herself.

“Manda?” the lieutenant calls, not bothering to look up as she balances her handbag on her knee. “Hi.” Amanda smiles nervously, quietly, worrying her bottom lip.

Olivia catches her gaze from the entryway, her mouth forming an instant beaming smile. It softens Amanda’s stance, lip popping from between her teeth to mirror it as she always does.

“Where are the boys?” the brunette asks, tucking hair behind her ear as she kicks off her boots and leaves them by the door.

“I left them with Nick tonight.” Amanda explains, following it with a casual shrug as Olivia’s eyebrow quirks. “I thought Noah might like to play with Zara and then he offered to take Hudson off our hands.”

“A child free night?” Olivia jokes, a laughing lilt to her voice. “Does this mean that we can finally wipe out some of that humongous Netflix queue?”

When Olivia’s back turns to her, Amanda takes another deep breath. She bites back enough of her anxiety to step gingerly out from behind the counter, tiptoeing quietly up behind the brunette. She watches from a few centimetres away as Olivia unclips her gun holster, pushing it into the allotted drawer. As she pulls out her cuffs so that she can do the same, Amanda’s slim fingers halt her movements from the wrist.

“Actually, I had a little something else planned for tonight.” Amanda swallows, butterflies flapping wildly inside her gut, as she lowers her lips tenderly to a section of the lieutenants exposed neck.

Olivia’s skin rises in goosebumps, her whole body lifting towards the action as she braces her knuckles against the small desk.

“Is that so?” she asks mischievously, gaze following the cuffs that Amanda slides from her grip. “And what you have in mind involves my handcuffs?”

Olivia turns to face the blonde, her eyebrows lifted upwards and her smile teasing. Amanda blushes in response, gaze flittering between her wife’s eyes and lips, before she nods sharply.

“You okay?” Olivia asks tenderly, bringing her hand to Amanda’s cheek.

The blonde leans into her touch eyes closing briefly before she turns her head enough to press a kiss against the other woman’s palm.

“More than,” she nods earnestly, lifting her face to hover in front of Olivia’s. “are you?”

Olivia connects their lips gently, timidly at first until Amanda’s tongue runs along her mouth. The blonde’s fingers wind around and clasp at the back of her neck, two fingers still clinging to the shiny metal cuffs that catch on her shirt as they kiss. She brushes back blonde tresses, holding Amanda’s cheek for a few moments as her own tongue runs along the woman’s teeth with a smile.

Amanda kisses her wife deeper, needier, feeling the all too unfamiliar arousal that’s been so absent in her life. She sighs into Olivia’s mouth as the brunette’s thigh shifts between her legs teasingly. For a few moments she presses herself against it, craving the friction, before Olivia’s palm begins to push up her robe. Hastily she unclasps her fingers and snatches the wandering hand away, shooting an apologetic look towards the dazed looking woman in front of her.

“Not yet,” she husks, smiling nervously as she bites her lip again. “I have something for you first.”

Olivia licks her lip as Amanda’s hand slides into her own, turning on her heel to lead the lieutenant deeper into their apartment.

Amanda can feel Olivia’s gaze on her back, making a game out of stepping just the way that she used to to draw the other woman’s gaze to her ass. She feels a sense of achievement when Olivia takes the bait.

“You still haven’t told me what my cuffs are for.” the brunette chuckles dryly as they reach their bedroom door.

“You’ll see.” Amanda teases, gaze turning over her shoulder to wink in her wife’s direction.

She tugs Olivia into their room, releasing her grip on the woman’s hand so that she may strut towards the chair she’d set up near the foot of their bed.

“Sit.” she commands, grinning to herself at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.

Olivia walks slowly to the chair, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet with each step. Once there she sits without hesitance, the old spark of excitement burning forcefully in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes close as Amanda’s hands smooth across the chair’s back, then onto her shoulders as she begins massaging them lightly.

“Mm…” Olivia hums appreciatively, rolling her shoulder’s back into the blonde’s touch. “if this is what tonight’s about then I’m not complaining.”

Amanda smiles as she leans down to kiss the side of the brunette’s neck, sucking the flesh between her teeth hotly and giving it a teasing nip.

“Tonight is about you.” she whispers against blushing skin, dragging her lips up to Olivia’s ear. “So just relax.”

Olivia twitches as Amanda’s tongue flicks out against the shell of her ear, her body feeling instant loss at the contact. In the seconds that she sits still dazed, Amanda reaches for the cuffs that she’d sat on the bed. Olivia only realises as the cool metal clicks around her wrist, the detective urging her other hand back behind the chair so that she may bind them together.

As Amanda moves to stand, a sheepish grin across her lips, she watches Olivia tug at her restraints experimentally. Without a word she walks painfully slow to the ipod dock on their dresser, giving the lieutenant a view of her scantily covered behind as she bends down to fiddle with it. Only as she presses play does the full weight of anxiety settle on her chest, fingers shaking as she reaches for the tie to her robe. As she pulls the loose knot free, she keeps herself turned away from the brunette. Nervous goosebumps freckle her back as the silk slips and she stands exposed, the music playing lowly around them.

“Wow.” Olivia exhales, Amanda’s eyes closing in response before she musters the courage to turn.

“Wow?” she asks anxiously, a sarcastic laugh bubbling from her throat until she tamps it down, and attempts to cover herself with her arms.

“Wait!” Olivia tells her instantly, her hands attempting to reach out instinctively before remembering that she’s cuffed. “Let me look at you.” she blushes, quieter.

Amanda loosens her arms, allowing them to fall to her sides. As Olivia appraises her she shifts her gaze, first the floor, the window, the wall.

“Look at me?” Olivia asks her gently, waiting until Amanda’s gaze meets hers to crack an honest smile. “Amanda, you’re beautiful.” she says, as though she can read her wife’s mind.

Amanda assesses the brunette’s face for fault lines, any sign that she doesn’t mean what she says, but all she sees is want. A look so eerily familiar and so very missed that she finds the bravery to step her way delicately back to the chair.

“Loving you is really all that’s on my mind…” the lyrics husk, swimming around them as Amanda’s hands fall back to Olivia’s shoulders. She rolls her chest as she leans down, drawing the woman’s brown eyed gaze to her chest moments before she captures her lips. Her thumbs massage Olivia’s collar as the music continues, pulling away as she feels majority of her nerves slip away.

“Tonight I’m gonna dance for you, oh-oh.” Olivia hears, swallowing roughly as Amanda’s body pulls back from her own. Her mouth is dry, hungry to connect with the blonde’s freckled skin that’s mostly exposed to her. As Amanda turns on her heel, Olivia admires the skirt like frill accentuating her wife’s behind, partly covering the already miniscule lace panties. Before she has time to comment, Amanda drops to her lap.

“Tonight I’m gonna put my body on your body…” Amanda relishes the uninhibited gasp from Olivia’s lips as she grinds her ass smoothly against the lieutenants thighs. It’s been almost two years since they’ve done exactly this, too long, but dancing for Amanda is a lot like riding a bike. Something in her muscles just remembers, and she’s not as fluid as she used to be, but she doesn’t feel so scared anymore. She rolls her ass in Olivia’s lap once more before standing, making sure to sway her hips. She turns on tiptoes back to face the brunette, throwing her a coy smirk as she lifts her hair. She makes a show of dragging the strands upward through her fingers and setting them free.

Olivia watches with rapt attention, straining against her bindings. The cuffs are biting against her wrists the more she tugs, but she can’t help wanting to reach for the blonde. She follows every move of Amanda’s body, licking her lips as the other woman’s fingers run down along her own neck. Amanda is watching herself now, but Olivia can still see the nervous and flittering smile that lifts her cheeks, hands dragging down her own body in the way that the lieutenants want to.

As Amanda’s palms reach her hips she lifts her gaze, running her tongue along her teeth. As she spins, moves her hips in slow circles to the music, she can hear Olivia’s breathing grow heavier.

“That’s why I’m all into you.” Olivia’s mouth gapes, snapping shut only when Amanda pushes her chin up to close it amusedly. She’s prowled her way back to the brunette’s body, leaning in close enough for Olivia to smell her perfume.

“This is for the time you gave me flowers…” Amanda bites her lip as she turns on the lieutenants lap, grazing her panty covered crotch up and along the woman’s thigh from the knee. She can feel Olivia’s head dip, nose grazing her back as she comes close enough.

“Amanda,” she groans, her breath warm on pale skin. “uncuff me, please?”

“Impatient?” the blonde teases, sliding herself painfully slow down the woman’s thigh.

Amanda’s words come out claggy, her own mouth already dry with arousal. She hadn’t expected the excitement of her own actions, having been so many months since she’s felt this high on it. During pregnancy and after Hudson’s birth she’d just been feeling anything but sexy, anything but sexually frustrated, but now it’s like all the months have caught up with her.

“Yes.” Olivia insists, cutting through her wife’s thoughts.

Amanda holds her breath as she stands, ensuring that Olivia has a full view of her ass as she removes her panties. The lace clings damply, coming away from her flesh like a second skin, as she drags the miniscule covering down her thighs. As she turns back, sliding herself atop the lieutenants lap, she is devoured purely by the other woman’s sight.

“I’m gonna put my body on your body.” the stereo hums, seemingly quieter than it was, drowned out between their breaths.

“Jesus, Amanda,” Olivia hisses, her head falling back in frustration as Amanda’s nose grazes her cheek. “you gotta uncuff me.”

“Do I?” Amanda teases, her whisper flicking against Olivia’s skin as she rolls her body against the brunette’s.

Olivia groans again, pleading with her eyes, her cuffs rattling on the chair as she shifts. When she presses her lips, open mouthed, to the top of Amanda’s breasts, she relishes the hum. The blonde grinds her bare sex against Olivia’s lap, her fingers winding into soft tresses, encouraging the kisses.

“If you uncuff me I can do more.” Olivia promises seductively, flashing her gaze to Amanda’s for only moments before she continues her kisses.

Her teeth graze graze soft, creamy coloured flesh, eliciting a slight squeal as she attempts to remove Amanda’s bra with her mouth.

“This is supposed to be about you.” the detective insists, pushing her back by her shoulders.

Olivia huffs in response, blowing the hair back from her face before she speaks.

“If it’s about me then jesus Amanda, just let me fuck you. If you’re ready, please.” she finishes the last part softly, her words soft enough to touch Amanda’s cheek even if her hands can’t. “Uncuff me and let me touch you, you drive me just as wild as the day we met and I only want to show you that.”

As Amanda bites her lip, Olivia’s head drops back to her chest, just resting there, until her lips find the beat of the blonde’s heart against her breast. She presses her lips there firmly, like she has done so many times over the years.

“Okay.” Amanda whispers.

Olivia’s muscles relax as Amanda reaches for the keys, fingers trembling. Her wife reaches her arms behind the chair, giving the lieutenant a perfect view of her chest as she fumbles with the lock. As the cuffs snap open, she jumps back, rocking against Olivia’s lap. The brunette flexes her wrists, her fingers, working away the stiffness, before reaching out to bare thighs.

“Thank you.” she breathes, moving her fingers across alabaster skin.

Amanda shakes as she winds her fingers back into Olivia’s hair, minimal urging bringing the other woman’s lips to her own. Olivia kisses her passionately, hotly, open mouthed and igniting. It almost feels like they only just met again, like everything is new without the beautiful feeling of familiar, the never-give-me-up feeling of home.

“So beautiful...” Olivia sighs between kisses, Amanda’s fingers still shaking as she crushes their lips together again.

The more that Olivia says, the more Amanda wants to cry. So she keeps kissing her, drawing her back breath after breath until the lieutenant drags her lips away. They run across her jaw feverently, tip toeing their way in kisses under her ear as strong arms wind around her waist. It isn’t until lips are pressing kisses down her neck that she speaks again.

“You drive me bloody wild,” Olivia chuckles lowly. “and you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She sucks the porcelain flesh between her teeth, nipping and sucking, leaving the first mark in so long that Amanda must sigh before she can protest.

“No, I’m not, I’m-” she blushes. “Olivia, I’m not what you fell in love with. I’m blotchy and dumpy and I’ve got that-”

“That what?” Olivia asks seriously, having pulled her mouth away to listen.

Amanda turns her head away, blushing shamefully as the back of her eyes begins to burn. Olivia’s warm hand on her cheek pulls her back, urging the blonde to face her again. When she does, her eyes are soft, so soft, that Amanda hates herself for being so hard.

“Are you talking about this?” she asks tenderly, hand drifting from the small of Amanda’s back to the front of her abdomen to hover lightly over the fresh pink scar that sits below her clothes. “Because this, this is beautiful.”

Amanda shakes her head, trying to pull from Olivia’s lap.

“No, stay,” Olivia begs. “listen to me, please.” and then she sighs, watching her fingers play over where she knows Amanda is referring to. “I love you. I love you right here, right now, and you are exactly as I fell in love with you, Amanda. You are the same crass, defiant, brave, drop dead gorgeous, Georgia peach that I fell in love with. Only now, you’ve given me a bigger heart. You’ve given me room for Hudson straight from inside of you. You created life, Amanda. You gave us the most beautiful son and perfect little brother for Noah and when I look at you, do you know what I think?”

Amanda has stopped struggling, listening intently to every word as Olivia’s fingers hold her chin.

“What do you think?” she asks, weakly.

“I think that I’ve never been so lucky.” Olivia breathes earnestly, a tear trickling from her own eye as her lips tilt in a smile. “I think that I love your curves and your edges and that every part of you is always changing, I think that I’m changing with you. And when I see you hide that scar, I understand, but I will never, I will never, look at it and not see the body that held our son and made him and kept him safe, I will never not see the light of my life and the strength that it took her to bring him into this world. I will never not be in love with you.”

“Really?” Amanda croaks, her embarrassment giving way to a longing in her chest.

“Really.” Olivia confirms, tenderly.

“Okay,” Amanda nods, Olivia’s thumb shifting on her chin. “okay. You can touch me now.”

As she says it, she smiles mischievously. The hair falls around her face as she leans down to join their lips again, softly at first, feeling the lieutenants smile against her own.

“About bloody time.” the brunette chuckles lowly, feeling Amanda nip at her bottom lip.

Olivia allows her hand to wander from its place on her wife’s abdomen, teasingly close to the place she wants to be before drawing it, instead, down muscular thighs.

“Liv, don’t play…” Amanda whines between kisses. “I haven’t been this wound up in so long. Don’t make me think I uncuffed you for nothing.”

Olivia doesn’t give in to her bait immediately, urging the blonde to silence by winding her fingers around the back of her neck and giving the tresses there a short, sharp tug. After she soothes the spot by massaging her thumb across it, her other hand working in circular motions up the woman’s thigh. As she runs her hand down  Amanda's body, she feels her own sigh in response. She welcomes the roll of the other woman’s hips needily across her lap.

Amanda whimpers as Olivia pulls her lips away, grazing them down a columned neck as her hands knead the tops of the detective’s thighs.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” she asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Amanda’s breast.

Amanda pants a heavy breath, gaze turned to the roof of their bedroom. When she nods, she knows Olivia feels it.

“Yes.” she hisses it anyway, scrunching her fingers in Olivia’s hair.

“Lift yourself up.” the lieutenant tells her, voice gravelled with need.

Amanda obeys, muscles trembling as she moves her other hand to the back of the chair. She supports herself on the wood, raising herself just enough for Olivia’s hands to position themselves. One of the brunette’s palms rests under her ass, kneading the bare flesh as she helps to hold her up. The other snakes its way up her thigh, two of her fingers hesitating briefly before drawing a line along the blonde’s outer lips.

“Liv!” Amanda shrieks in surprise, the feeling of her wife’s fingers on her clit damn near electric after so long without them.

Olivia nips at her breast lightly with a satisfied smirk, tracing a succession of brusque circles against the blonde’s clit. Wetness slicks her fingers, their tips pressing easily to where Amanda needs her.

“Slowly,” she husks, her nose running back up and along Amanda’s neck. “I’ll be gentle.”

Amanda bites her lip as she lowers herself onto Olivia’s fingers, pausing briefly as she does so. She’s healed now, it seems, as no pain greets her. There is a delicious familiarity to it though, the feeling of Olivia’s fingers inside her.

“It’s good,” she drawls, her eyes closed. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Olivia whispers, breath tickling Amanda’s skin.

The detective moves herself slowly up and down, Olivia’s fingers moving and pressing inside her with every slow thrust. Her movements are guided by the other woman’s hand on her ass, thumb splayed across her lower back.

After a few minutes, Olivia curls her fingers, angling her lips to Amanda’s earlobe. She tugs on the soft flesh, hastening her movements in time with the blonde’s breathy moans. When Amanda seeks her lips she grants them, tongue against tongue and teeth and lips, blushed pink. She uses her hand on Amanda’s ass to press them together, the blonde’s body grinding wantonly against her own as she takes the friction she needs.

“Close,” Amanda whimpers, catching her teeth on Olivia’s lip. “so close…”

Olivia angles her fingers deeper, pushing Amanda’s hips to roll against her hand, thumb drawing quick lines across her clit.

Amanda’s chest tightens, breaths coming in laboured gasps. She pulls her mouth from Olivia’s, tossing her head back as she feels her orgasm roll over her. For several blissful seconds, she is spent.

“How was that, love?” Olivia asks her tenderly, withdrawing her fingers.

She helps to ease the blonde back onto her lap, massaging the small of her back as her other hand comes to rest on her hip. Amanda relaxes into her touch, sighing as she curls her face into Olivia’s neck.

“Thank you.” she whispers. “For-”

“I know what for.” Olivia smiles, pressing a kiss to the blonde’s temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Amanda breathes, inhaling her wife’s scent. “Do you want me to-”

“No. This is good.” she assures, feeling Amanda nod against her shoulder. “But I do have a leg cramp and I think my ass is numb.”

Amanda snorts as she laughs, her stomach aching by the time she’s finished.

“Come on then,” she grins, pushing herself up and reaching for the brunette’s hand. “let’s get changed and go to bed then.”

“I like the way you think.” Olivia hums, kissing her quickly before they separate to change.

She’s already laying in bed when Amanda returns, sweatpants clinging low on her hips. She holds out her arms for Amanda to crawl into. She does.

Amanda nestles into her frame, not even minding as Olivia’s fingers splay ever so lightly across her scar.

“Netflix and chill?” Olivia suggests, reaching for her laptop.

Amanda snorts again, smacking Olivia’s thigh amusedly.

“You didn’t want to be chilled.” she drawls.

Olivia shrugs, holding Amanda tighter as she opens the site.

“You’re right, I’m good, but I’m still picking the show.”