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#and the idea of doing another pregnancy with that is just too much
wandaslittlelove · 2 days
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Destined Part 5
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Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, child birth. Im thinking of making this the last part of this series and then throwing in some little one shots for it. So lmk what you all think! (I do have ideas for a couple more chapters if that's what everyone wants)
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Birth was the hardest part of the whole pregnancy. It was long hours of torture that I wanted to stop but it seemed as if it never did. That is until I was holding my boys in my arms. Billy and Tommy somehow Wanda seemed to know exactly which one was which. 
I couldn’t help but look at them lovingly. These were my children. I may not have asked for them but they were mine.
The boys were quickly pulled away from me though when I started to cry out in pain. In an instant Wanda was by my side again and holding my hand. She tried to comfort me but the pain was too much. 
“There's another one,” I heard the doctor say. Wanda's eyes seemed to widen as she looked at me happily.
After half an hour a little girl was placed on my chest. 
“Natalia” is what Wanda whispered to me as she held my little girl's hand. The name made me start crying more as I imagined that my sister was in the room with me. She would have loved to have been here.
Soon Wanda had taken Natalia out of my arms and told me to rest. I didn’t want to rest though. I wanted to hold my babies. But when I tried to protest she flashed me her red eyes and I quickly nodded.
I knew now that I probably would never be able to leave Wanda. I would never be able to just leave my kids with her. And transporting three kids while trying to escape someone is not the easiest. All I could do now was give into this life. The Life with Wanda and our children.
Nothing made sense but as I looked over to Wanda holding our little girl while singing to the boys a warmth filled my chest.  
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Tag list: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol @delulu-bayolet-era @dorabledewdroop @bananasplits-world @xtra7s @yungpoetfics @itsyaghorliebayolet
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3lushkiii · 17 hours
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His blessings
General!Toji x Wife!User
Contains: Fluff, baby Megumi, arranged marriage trope, Toji totally whipped for his wife, a bit of nsfw.
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General!Toji who is nothing more than a accident for his family, living on the outskirts of the Zenins territory in a measly manor. His only use has been to the emperor and the front line, acting as general of the imperial army even as the Zenins mistake.
General!Toji who is allowed one reward for his work on the front lines, and as the petty man he is, to make fun of how horribly the Zenin���s treat him, he says; “A warm bed.” The emperor ends up utterly misinterpreting his words, giving him a wife instead. She shall warm his bed, won’t she?
General!Toji who is bewildered to recieve the letter from your household accepting to give him your hand in marriage, including a large dowry he has no idea what to do with. The only reason your family accepted if because going against the emperor is an insult.
General!Toji who can nearly feel himself fall forward at your wedding. When he looks so shabby and you’re so beautiful, he’s quite glad the emperor thought of his words like he did. Seeing your gown, your face, you. He’s never felt so alive.
General!Toji who is selfish, who is greedy, and who is yours. He knows your marriage will be sealed in stone if you share a bed, and he doesn’t intend to not use his privileges as your husband. Toji who can’t wait to see how his perfect bride shall act, how she shall feel in his hands.
General!Toji who nearly melts at being inside you the first time, he’s glued to your cunt the entire first week of your marriage. Whose rough hands try their best to be gentle on your pliant body, making sure he doesn’t squeeze too hard, bend you too much.
General!Toji whos never felt this way before. Who’s never felt this dread eating in his chest. Who’s never had a fear of dying on the battlefield untill you wed. Because if he dies, who will come home to you? Because if he dies, he’ll never see you again. And that is the worst fate he can possibly imagine.
General!Toji who pounds parts of himself into you the nights leading up to his departure, determined to pump a baby into your pretty body so you’ll never be alone. Determined to have a tiny piece of him roam the earth even if he isn’t on it. He dies of guilt to the thought of you raising a baby alone, but he’s allowing himself the privilege of being selfish just this once.
General!Toji who finds himself disgusted with the women the emperor sends to his barracks. Sometimes they sent women from brothels to the soldiers, and he always used to enjoy the flicker of intimacy in that hellhole—But with his wife waiting at home, he’s never been so repulsed in his life.
General!Toji who thinks of you day, evening and night. Whose mind never strays from returning home to you, to your imperfect smile he finds the most beautiful in the world, to your hands who he feels guide him forward, to maybe another little surprise bundled up in your arms.
General!Toji who feels as if he is dishonoring you anytime his thoughts stray—or his hands. He shouldn’t be thinking of his noble wife like this, but his mind doesn’t relent. Whose hand pumps his cock at the mere thought of you, who’s desperate to return home to you to be nestled inside your soft body once again.
General!Toji who nearly cries of joy and despair at your letter when he received news your pregnancy. He was utterly distraught to not be there and see you. To see his wife beautiful and round, a bit emotional and adorably sentimental. He can’t imagine how hard the strain of pregnancy and the possibility of losing a husband is on you. Toji who is even more excited that you let him name your baby, and he hurries to write the letter back to you with his answer.
General!Toji who finally returns home, battered and bruised but in one piece. He returns to not just your pretty face, but Megumi’s chubby cheeks and little scrunched up nose. Toji who has never once felt as content as when he stared at you holding your son in his arms, when he felt Megumi’s tiny hand wrapped around his finger.
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goddessofroyalty · 2 years
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During Silco' pregnancy with Mylo how do you think Vander coped trying to take care of two pups, a grumpy pregnant omega and trying to run a bar. This poor man is so overworked 😭
I feel like 'is so overworked' is just the vibe of this au.
He's not just running a bar on top of the family responsibilities at that point, he's also still actively leading a revolt against Piltover (with Silco but they're not sending the pregnant person to go get into punch ups with Enforcers).
It's why I kind of have it in my head that in the span of Claggor and Mylo's pregnancies the Violent Revolts side of their work took a bit of a back seat and they instead more focused on consolidating control and power of the Lanes and Zaun generally (only to return to the Violent Revolting with probably more power behind them after Mylo's born up to finding the girls). Because something has to give or else everything is going to come crashing down around them and they are at a point where Solidifying Control And Assets is a useful move.
And like I've mentioned before, Silco is working up until he drops the pup and Viktor is starting to be an age where he can somewhat look after himself. So while the responsibility of it all isn't sitting on Vander's shoulders the whole time he's definitively feeling more and more like he's responsible for it all each day of the pregnancy that passes.
On the flipside of course Claggor is still under 1 years old when Mylo is conceived and isn't quite yet 2 years old when he's born. So still needs a lot of care and is still pretty dependent on his parents. And while Silco is certainly not avoiding lifting him because he's pregnant when he gets further along it gets hard to do so partially because Claggor's generally on the bigger side. And Viktor can only help so much so... Vander has to help.
Vander's honestly likely not getting much sleep for most of the pregnancy (I feel like Silco gets pregnancy insomnia a bit so when he is asleep Vander is doing everything in his power to let him keep sleeping and when Silco is awake he will sometimes wake Vander because he wants to talk something through). And, gods, he looks so rough by the end of it. Although he does get sympathy from everyone who comes through the bar regularly because they all figure Silco is running him into the ground.
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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second time around.
ln x fem!reader
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in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.
staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.
3.9k words
take: 1
the season is coming to an end.
somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.
it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.
she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.
“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.
at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.
you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.
“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“
“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”
you mull over his words.
your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.
but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…
“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.
“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.
-
his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.
you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.
his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.
“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.
when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.
something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.
when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.
he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.
hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.
“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.
you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.
you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.
lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.
but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.
an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.
your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.
-
date night
almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.
it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.
every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.
you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.
fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.
“later.” you whisper.
his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.
the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.
he launches his attack during dessert.
vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.
“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”
lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.
“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.
“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”
you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.
“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.
“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.
“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.
“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.
“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”
you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.
-
he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.
you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.
he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.
your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.
he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.
at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.
now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.
you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.
you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.
lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.
he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.
-
the fear
lando is due back from qatar.
any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.
he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.
a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.
you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.
you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.
instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.
you raise and eyebrow.
“lando?” you question.
your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.
“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.
the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.
“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.
“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.
lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.
he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.
“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.
“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.
your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.
when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.
“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.
-
when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.
lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.
he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.
“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.
“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.
“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.
“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.
“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.
gentle snores lull you to sleep.
-
quickie
you go with him to austin.
it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.
“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.
“this won’t take long.” he smirks.
you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.
you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.
lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.
thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.
“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.
your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.
“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”
you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.
-
office party
a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.
the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.
you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.
when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.
it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.
you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.
he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.
“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.
“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.
“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.
“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.
lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.
it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.
the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.
he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.
“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.
he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.
“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”
you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.
“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.
“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”
you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.
-
a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.
you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.
when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.
“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.
but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!
you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.
-
once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao
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hello-eden · 2 months
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DpxDC #6
I did this idea with Jason but what if it was with Kon instead. Danny needs stable clone DNA to help stabilize Ellie; he finds Superboy and asks him to help stabilize Ellie. Kon is touched by the fact that he's trying to save her and agrees to help with it. Neither were told that Ellie would end up being the deaged or that the DNA would mix and that Ellie would technically become their kid. The two of them end up doing partial custody and getting to know one another well this is going on. whether they end up together or not is entirely up for interpretation.
 I think because Danny is used to the weirdest option being the correct one and Kon is literally a clone they would think that everyone would automatically assume the weirdest option too.  it would be funny for Kon to just off-handedly mention Ellie first and not make a big announcement. so everyone thinks that Ellie has been in his life a lot longer than she actually has been. I imagine that  because of Danny's flightiness because of powers and probably him being in the ghost zone trying to stabilize Ellie it would seem like Danny had a hidden pregnancy. even if they did DNA testing any cloning signs would be put down to Kons DNA.
Kon's friends like Tim or Bart Meet Ellie during some sort of drop off. like Danny is going on a field trip and needs Kon to watch Ellie for the weekend. He probably mentions this and everyone is like can we go see your kid. I imagine that's how they would be introduced to Danny. it would especially be confusing if Danny is just very civilian but also so nonchalant about all of the hero stuff going on. Danny was very much raised by jazz in a very small town so  any sign of obvious weirdness is very much not shown. Ellie is probably young enough that she doesn't really understand secret keeping even if she has her memories so she's probably floating around. Everyone takes that as a sign that Ellie is definitely Kon's.
If you go the Romantic route with Kon and Danny, Kon would mention that he's going on a date with Danny and for anyone to babysit. It is later revealed that this would be their first date and then everyone would question how the hell they even had a kid in the first place if this was their first date.  it would make everyone think that Ellie is very much a one-night stand baby and I think that would be hilarious. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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baby fever
in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work
fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......
The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 
From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 
“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 
He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 
“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 
“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 
“She is pretty adorable.” 
You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 
“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 
HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 
“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 
“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 
At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 
“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 
His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 
“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 
“Can we have one?” 
Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 
“You--you mean like a baby?” 
“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 
“I thought we were waiting on that.” 
“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 
“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 
“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 
“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 
You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 
“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 
“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 
“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 
The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 
He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 
“What? What’s wrong?” 
There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 
Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 
The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 
“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 
His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  
Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 
“You’re ready?”  
“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 
He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  
“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 
“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 
He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 
“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 
“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 
“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 
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bluejeanstrash · 3 months
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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744
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‘is he okay?’ 
‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 
‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 
‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 
‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.
tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.
seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 
‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.
‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 
‘hmmn?’ 
‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’
it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.
‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.
‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.
‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.
‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’
he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.
‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.
‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.
‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.
‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.
‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’
‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.
‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’
there’s a moment of silence.
‘not it’
‘not it!’
you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.
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chuusmuts · 5 months
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imagine kazuscara breeding you
smut. afab reader, threesome, cockwarming, fingering, nipple play, praising, overstimulation, breeding, mention of pregnancy, not proofread.
happy late birthday, scarawrmooche. please let me be your bride again this year <3. also, if you think this fic is not good, then it's y'all faults for voting kazuscara threesome 😐.
it was a cold night, another night where you straddled on kazuha's lap, cockwarming him as he read you a lewd scene from your favourite novel. swallowing your saliva, your eyes were wide, and ears perked up as you listened attentively to him. it hadn't gone to the peak part, yet you could already feel your cheeks heating up from the scene. especially when you're imagining both scaramouche and kazuha fucking you mercilessly just like from the novel.
your dream soon turned out to be true as you found yourself laying naked on the double king-sized bed with both men by your sides, kazuha cupping your perfect breast in his hand, teasing the sensitive nipple with his thumb while scaramouche moved closer behind you, his erection pressing against your back as he reached down to grasp your other breast firmly, massaging it softly while stroking your cunt slowly with his free hand.
it was scaramouche's idea if you're wondering. when he saw the sight of you sitting on his very pretty husband, kazuha's lap while cockwarming him, his cock immediately straightened and stand up straight. with you fully naked, your plump breasts and your tasty cunt showing like that, let me just say it was a great idea for him to breed you right now and then. kazuha was a fan of saying no if he was asked to breed you. and letting scaramouche fuck you while he sleep alone? there's no way he would allow that.
your soft whimpers were muffled as kazuha pulled you and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue invading your mouth. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you felt both of your breasts being squeezed, your nipples hardening immediately when they pinched the soft buds. the sheet underneath you was slowly getting wet as your juices coated it all while scaramouche glided his fingers along your cunt. you rolled your hips slightly, unable to control yourself as you wanted more and more.
kazuha pulled away from your lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked and licked at your bottom lip. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from laughing or grinning too much. the way he looked at you made it clear that he found you irresistible and couldn't help but feel amused by your innocence and cuteness. as he pulled away from your mouth, he let go of your breast and grabbed your thigh, pulling it open just enough for him to slide two fingers inside you, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips. he started to fuck you with his fingers. "my cute little wife, you're so beautiful when you're like this." he whispered seductively while scaramouche continued to play with your breast and cunt. your legs were spread wide, making it easy for him to access every part of you.
kazuha groaned, feeling the warmth of your insides wrap around his finger as he stroked your g-spot. meanwhile, scaramouche inched his lips closer to your breast to latch on it. he took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily and used his index finger to stimulate your clit. you could feel their combined efforts pushing you higher and higher, each touch causing more and more pleasure to rush through your body.
scaramouche bit down gently on your nipple, causing you to whimper. he then released your nipple and began to lick and suck at the skin around it, his tongue swirling around your areola before he took your entire nipple into his mouth again, sucking on it while he rubbed your clit faster. kazuha was also speeding up his fingers as he thrusted his fingers inside your cunt. it was a sensory overload for you, and all you could do was pant and moan as you felt their hands and tongues on your body pleasuring and fucking you.
you were writhing underneath them, your breath coming in short gasps as they pushed you closer and closer to orgasm. your walls clamped tight around kazuha's fingers as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking followed by a loud cry. you panted heavily when you finally calmed down from your orgasm. kazuha pulled his fingers out of you but scaramouche was still rubbing your clit and sucking on your nipple. "s– scara..." needily, you moaned but were quickly quiet down as he shushed you gently. "be a good wife and shut your pretty lips for us, will you?"
scaramouche grinned wickedly as he leaned back, pulling your legs up so that your legs were wrapped tight around his waist. he grabbed your hips and lifted you slightly, guiding your dripping pussy to his cock. with a strong push, he impaled himself inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your wet heat surrounding him as you cried out in bliss. your walls were wrapped tightly around his cock. so tight, so good... you tilted your head back in pleasure as a bead of sweat formed on your forehead.
he started to move slowly, savouring the sensation of being inside of you. "oh god... i love you so much," he whispered, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. kazuha watched as scaramouche took control, lovingly pushing his cock into you while he kissed you deeply. he moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing them and massaging your sensitive nipples. it didn't take long for him to feel his own arousal growing, and he decided not to wait any longer.
without hesitation, he grabbed hold of your hips and pushed his length into you from behind with a loud groan, stretching your walls apart, causing another loud cry to escape your lips. your nails dugged into scaramouche's, back, scratching on his skin as you get sandwiched between them, fucking relentlessly into your holes. "you're so tight, so good for us. such a good wife you are." kazuha muttered before biting on your neck, leaving red and purple marks.
puddle of tears pricked in your eyes as drool streamed down in the corner of your lips, falling onto scaramouche's neck. at that moment, you couldn't think of anything. they fucked you until you get hazy, too overwhelmed with pleasure. the sound of kazuha's voice praising you from behind were quick to drown into your mind as your eyes rolled back to the back of your head until you could see stars.
the air was thick with lust and desire as your body shook with pleasure while they continued to thrust into you. the sound of flesh meeting flesh mixed with your moans was loud, and it seemed to drive them both wild with desire. their cocks slapped against your insides as they pounded into you, and soon enough, they felt your body start to tremble in anticipation of an intense orgasm.
scaramouche pulled out just a little bit, giving you a brief reprieve before slamming back into you. ss he did so, he felt your walls clench down on him, making him gasp in surprise. his thrusts became more forceful, driving his cock deeper into your depths as he lost himself in the moment. one firm thrust from scaramouche brought you to ecstasy as you couldn't help but moan and cry out while you climaxed.
scaramouche's hips bucked forward violently, driving his cock deep into your throbbing walls. he let out a low growl of pleasure, feeling your walls clench around him tightly as you came undone in a wave of blissful release. the sensation sent shivers down his spine, and he knew that he was just moments away from his own climax. meanwhile, kazuha continued to pound into you from behind, his movements becoming increasingly frantic as he tried to match the intensity of your pleasure. his cock pulsed inside of you, sending jolts of electricity throughout your entire body. with every stroke, he could feel his own orgasm building up, threatening to consume him entirely.
and that high he had desperately been chasing finally came over him as his cum penetrated into your womb, filling it to the fullest, making you cry out loud for the third time in the same night. as kazuha's orgasm hit, his body tensed up, and he groaned in relish as his seed shot into you like a rocket. his hot semen flooded your insides, causing your walls to contract and pulse around his cock. the sensation was exquisite, and he could feel his balls emptying themselves into you, filling you up even further with each passing second. you were a bottomless pit of love and passion, and he couldn't get enough of you or this moment. "take our seed and make sure you get pregnant, okay?" he spoke softly. as the intensity of his orgasm began to subside, kazuha found himself unable to maintain his pace. he slowed down slightly, letting out a few more groans as he continued to pound into you.
scaramouche was the last to cum. his orgasm was equally intense, if not more so than kazuha's. as his cock thrusted against your insides, he could feel his own seed pouring into you, and he let out a loud, long moan as he emptied himself into you. the sensation was overwhelming, and he could barely breathe as his orgasm took hold of him. his body trembled with the force of his release, and he felt his muscles tighten around your entrance as he continued to pump his seed into you.
as his cock gradually softened, he pulled back a little bit, giving you some space to breathe and recover from your own climax. but the intensity of the experience left him tired and spent, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he looked at your flushed and sweaty face with a smirk, a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. "what an obedient wife." he laid his head on your fluffy boobs in exhaustion, but he wasn't planning to stop, neither did kazuha. after all, one round won't guarantee that you'd get pregnant, wouldn't it?
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Note
ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 
John’s icon dims. 
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 
He tried to call as often as he could. 
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening. 
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 
You steel yourself and raise the box. 
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 
Pregnant. 
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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TAGS:
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roseboysstuff · 3 months
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(Same person who requested the pent up leon & ftm reader with a baby :3)
i NEED more zuko content , uhh so how about zuko and (ftm) male reader have two kids already (twins) and they're really young, even them both already having kids zuko atleast wanted one more, and as soon as the twins started asking for a baby sibling he went wild that night
"You heard them? One more can't hurt, and they'd be so so happy.."
You can choose the kinks ! Have a good day ♡
I'm always happy to provide Zuko content hehe, and breeding is one of my faves AH FUCK i POSTED IT TOO SOON
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Zuko loved seeing you with your kids. The two girls that you had given him, cute little identical twins. The cold darkness of the palace, now filled with the cute shrieks and giggles of his daughters. Meetings with his advisors interrupted by the pitter patter of tiny feet coming into the throne room, so he just continues the meeting with both of them snuggled onto his lap. And the way you took care of them, made him fall even more in love with you. The praise and care, the way you carried them on your hips. He was so proud of you, and of his girls. They were both firebenders, not that he cared. He'd love them either way. But tonight, as the four of you lay there, the girls making flower crowns in the meadow outside the capital volcano, the topic of siblings came up. "Papa? Can we have another sibling?" One of your girls, asked, in the her innocent voice. Which caused the other one to chime in. "Yeah! I want a brother too!" Both you and Zuko exchanged a look, your faces clearly flustered. You changed the subject for now, and you after a few hours, you carried them back to the palace, and tucked them into bed. As soon as you left their room, you felt a hand on your hip. Squeezing. Grabbing. And then you were pushed up against a wall, with Zuko's lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin on your neck. "What do you say, my firefly? Shall we give them another sibling?" His voice is deeper, laced with lust. You remember how he got you pregnant the first time, how he went almost feral at the idea of seeing you all swollen with his kid. You're pretty sure that his incessant pounding of your hole, and the amount of cum that he poured into your hole, was the reason why you had twins. And you were probably gonna get the same treatment tonight. He didn't even wait until you got into your shared chambers, he just pushed you against the wall of the hallway. Despite your soft protests that somebody might see you, he pulled your clothes off. "No one's gonna see us, and even if they do, I'm the FireLord. What can they do? I'm the leader, and I need to fuck another heir into my prince consort. You'll let me, won't you, baby boy?" Well you did let him. His cock was in you before long, and you stopped caring about whether or not it felt good. You just moan and whimpered and cried out his name. "Such a tight hot pussy, all for me. Gonna get your pregnant again, my love. Shall we try for triplets this time?" You didn't argue. His cock felt too good, the veiny surface stimulating the sensitive spots inside you. And you squeezed him so good, your pussy needing to be filled with his hot cum, to be pumped full of his heirs again. You cried out his name, needing him to fuck you harder. Which he happily obliged. Slamming into your pussy, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the hallway, as he didn't let up. He was determined to get you pregnant again, to fill your womb up with so much cum that you had no choice but to carry his babies again. He loved your first pregnancy. Watching your belly grow, from the small little bump, barely noticeable. To the swollen belly in the last trimester. He loved it all. And he was desperate to see it again, which was obvious in the thrusts. He was thrusting like a man starved, revelling in the mewls and whimpers leaving your lips. His cum poured into you, spurting seed into your womb. But he wasn't done. Keeping his cock in you, he carried you the rest of the way to your chambers, leaving the small amount of cum that had leaked out of you for the servants to clean up. He lowered you down onto your shared bed, and kissed your neck, rolling his hips inside you again. It's clear you weren't going to leave his arms until you were stuffed with enough cum, that he was satisfied that you were definitely knocked up again.
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lieutnt · 6 months
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I blame @rodolfoparras & @miguel-owhora
cw: trans!miguel baby trapping you
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thinking about trans!miguel baby trapping you. when he first recruits you to the spider-society he’s enamoured, and it only takes a few weeks before he’s riding your cock, the idea in his head that only you can give him the family he wants - but you insist on wearing a condom every time, unaware of just how deep his infatuation already runs.
miguel waits until you’ve pulled out of him and discarded the used condom and about to get another one he asks if you’ll go get him a drink of water. you do without a doubt, asking if he's ok, if he wants anything else because that’s just the person you are - kind, considerate, and any trace of doubt vanishes as you disappear out of the room. miguel quickly scrambles into action, poking holes into the condoms before you can get back.
when you do he accepts the drink gratefully, taking a few minutes to rest while you flop down on your back next to him. once he’s recovered (although he doesn’t really need to recover, not when he’d let you fuck him until he passed out) he’s settling between your thighs, taking you in his mouth until you’re hard again and he moves to straddle you, not forgetting to roll down one of the condoms on your cock before he’s sinking down on you.
he rides you with a renewed vigour that has you cumming fast, hips bucking up to chase the wet heat of his cunt and you can’t even tell when your cum starts to leak out of the hole, brain too busy firing on all cylinders as he tumbles over the edge with you, grinding your cock against his walls as they pulse and clench around you.
when he pulls off you and you see the broken condom you panic but miguel is quick to assure you, swearing that he’s on birth control. the night ends there but it’s already too late.
he approaches you a few weeks later, herding you into his office and shutting the doors before handing you a positive pregnancy test. he attempts to make himself look as nervous as possible, rambling that he doesn't know how it happened. he waits to gauge your reaction but you put the test down and pull his hands into yours, “it’s up to you to decide, i’ll support you no matter what.”
cut to a couple months later and miguel can’t stop smiling in bed, sinking into the feeling of you sleeping pressed against his back as your hand cradles his growing belly.
bonus: the pregnancy hormones have miguel convincing you that since he’s already pregnant you can fuck him raw as much as you want, eyes rolling back in pleasure when you mumble in his ear about how you’ll put another baby in him as your seed overflows from his puffy cunt
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flamingpudding · 6 months
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Drake's family secret
A/N: Another story idea I had and I probably will keep working on. I kinda want to continue on it I just have no idea how or with what yet.
Tim had a secret. Well, he had many secrets but this was one he had kept closed off for a very long time now. It was one of the reasons he fabricated a fake uncle to avoid getting adopted. After all, if you were put into the system how could you possibly get found or find your last living blood relative? His family didn't know and he never intended for them to know anyway. It was a secret well-kept of the Drake family, one that even the public didn't know about. His parents hadn't thrown around money to keep anyone involved silent for nothing after all.
But Tim had had vague memories as well as found the last remaining documents years ago. The problem had been that he hadn't been Robin yet at that time and couldn't do research like he can now. Tim had often wondered if one of the reasons he had followed Batman around back then was to see if he could help him with that matter too, yet he had never brought it up to Bruce nor any of his other siblings.
In a way it made Tim feel guilty now as he looked over that old piece of paper. The only hint he had until now.
He looked over the security video of Wayne Enterprise again. Watching that group of high schoolers that was there on a school trip visit. His eyes tracked one specific student among them. If things were different Tim would joke about how the boy looked like perfect Bruce adoption material. But as it was, Tim was not going to make that joke.
Because as much as the boy fell into the stereotype of Bruce's adoption problem, the boy had facial features that looked very much like one Jenet Drake. Tim could honestly see it, sure his memories were not the best in regards to his parents but he had kept at least some photos for references. But recognizing that threw in a whole other set of problems.
For one he would need to find a way to make sure the Drake Family secret doesn't get exposed to his family too soon. Second, he needed to find a way to approach the boy without looking suspicious. Third, he was on a time limit, according to what he found the school trip the boy was on lasted for a week. Once the boy was out of Gotham it would be even harder to find a passable excuse to approach him. Fourth, he would also need a blood sample. As much as the boy's looks alone could make Tim believe it, the rest of his family was paranoid and if he was completely homestead, he also would need it for his reassurance that he wasn't wrong. Which again he kind of doubted even with this little amount of evidence. The fifth problem in this was, how was he going to break it to the rest of his family.
Because the best kept Drake's Family secret, he was pretty sure he was the last remaining person in the know, was that Tim had a little brother. A brother that was born when he was around 3 or four years old. A little brother who had never gotten to grow up with him because Jack and Jenet Drake had used their constant traveling as cover so the public wouldn't know about him. They already had an heir with Tim, they didn't need a second child. So the moment his little brother had been born he was given up in a closed adoption. Never to be seen again and never to be connected to the Drake family.
Tim only knew about him because he had vague memories about his mother's pregnancy and also had later found the papers in his parents' office when he was around ten. He remembered how upset he had been at the discovery but also how he hadn't been able to do anything about it. Though it was back then that he had also decided that the moment he could he would do everything he could to find him. Things only started to change when he became Robin and then Red Robin. Now he had the resources and knowledge to find the little brother he had never gotten to grow up with.
But too much time had passed and his parents had been thorough when covering their tracks, which resulted in Tim having been unable to find that little brother of his. Having no name and no idea who adopted him, didn't help either. But Tim had had less to work with before, yet the search had given him massive troubles, to the point that he HAD contemplated getting the rest of his family in on it.
But now that wasn't necessary anymore, there was an actual chance again.
Thankfully he had come in late today, if he hadn't he wouldn't have seen the group of High School students on a school trip in the Lobby waiting for their tour guide. He wouldn't have seen the group of teens that lacked behind their fellow students a bit. But most importantly he wouldn't have seen that kid that looked like adoption bait for Bruce. That then by closer inspection had so many facial similarities to his mother that Tim had first thought he was hallucinating.
Now he was sitting in his office, watching the group of High Schoolers getting a tour through the building through the security cams while trying to come up with the perfect plan that didn't look too suspicious as he watched the boy who could be his blood-related little brother. Oh, Damian would throw a fit if he learned about having another brother, Tim mused for a moment as he noted down the boy's, Danny's, excitement about their aerospace department. He had already decided, if Danny was not living adequately he would pull all the strings he could to get his little brother home.
So far Tim had found out that the boy's name was Danny Fenton. He would dig into that later more. He would also make sure that if Danny was his little brother, he saw to it that he was getting treated right. He had noticed how his little brother appeared overly tired and there was a bandage hidden below his shirt plus through the security camera footage, he had also seen that there was a hint of scarring on his left arm.
For now, though he had sent a message to the tour guide to end the tour in his office, for something like a surprise introduction to Tim Drake-Wayne. He would continue to build up his plan of getting to know and confirm his little brother's status from there.
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 56 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley finally gets word about a return date, he has no idea what he's about to walk into at home. You tried your best to take care of things by yourself, but your visit to the hospital shows you how much you need someone with you for physical help as well as emotional support.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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You managed to get in the car even though Natasha was protesting. "What's wrong?" she asked at least a dozen times as she tried to call an ambulance for you. But you just told her you could drive yourself to the hospital to be checked out. You thought you said the word pregnant to her at some point, but you weren't really sure. Nothing was making very much sense right now. 
There was traffic on every road as dinnertime approached. Everyone else was going out for the night, perhaps for a family meal at a restaurant. You saw kids walking along the sidewalks with their parents, and you started crying. You didn't like leaving Noah to wake up from his nap with Natasha suddenly there instead of you. She would take care of him, of course, but it might confuse him. You didn't see what choice you had in the matter though, as your mind was flooding with worst case scenarios.
What was happening to the baby?
You sobbed as you ran through a yellow light to try to get there faster. What if it was already too late? You were educated enough to know that there were about a million different things that could be going on right now, and they ranged from innocuous to horrifying. Maybe you did something to cause some minor bleeding. Or maybe the baby was already gone.
"Please, no," you gasped as you parked at the hospital and walked quickly through the increasingly dreary weather to the emergency entrance. Your phone was vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants as you headed right for the desk and blurted out, "I'm pregnant, and I'm bleeding."
The exhausted looking nurse looked up at you and said, "Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I'll come get you when I'm ready for you."
You blinked at her. "I'm bleeding," you repeated in a harsh whisper. "And I'm pregnant."
"Yes," she replied with a nod. "I'll be with you in just a minute."
You took a seat and cried, afraid to use the bathroom in the waiting area, terrified to see more blood when you wiped yourself. Anytime patients came to see Dr. Kelly, you made sure you took care of them right away, especially if they were bleeding or upset. You couldn't stand the tears that would well up in a child's eyes along with uncertainty and fear. 
But then you got it. It only took you a minute to understand that if there truly was something wrong with the baby, then there was nothing they would be able to do at this point.
Your phone was ringing again, and it was Natasha. As the nurse came to retrieve you from your seat, you texted her and let her know you made it to the hospital and to focus her attention on Noah. You were shaking again as the nurse took your temperature and blood pressure, and you wanted to scream at her to do something more than check your vitals. You needed an ultrasound. You needed a doctor. You needed someone to focus on why you were bleeding.
She handed you off to another nurse, and at least he smiled sympathetically at you and said, "We'll get you checked out in no time." But you could barely walk, and you felt his hand wrap around your bicep to keep you upright as he guided you into one of the many rooms in the emergency medicine corridor. "I'll get a doctor right in here, okay?"
His voice was calm, emulating what you tried to do at your own job, and he left you a gown to change into. Once he was gone, you put it on, afraid to check your underwear as you settled onto the narrow bed. The room smelled sterile, and the fluorescent lights were making you nauseous, but he was true to his word. You started counting to yourself, trying to keep track of how much time had passed without panicking, and a few minutes later, a doctor appeared in the doorway.
She spoke your name, and when you nodded, she introduced herself. "You're pregnant?" she asked you evenly as she reached for some latex gloves. She reminded you a bit of Dr. Kelly, and you immediately felt a little bit calmer. 
"Yes. About thirteen weeks along, and I just started bleeding like an hour ago." Your voice broke on your words, but you tried to keep it together. "I'm a pediatric nurse, so I'm not completely proficient in obstetrics, but can you give me an ultrasound and check? I need to know if the baby is okay."
"Lay back so I can see what's going on here." You did exactly as you were told as your heart pounded and panic rose within you. The baby was already so loved; you and Bradley were both looking forward to the due date. Sure, you'd been a little scared of the unknown, but the idea of miscarrying had you sick with worry. 
If Bradley were here right now, you knew you'd feel so much safer, but if the baby was gone, your preference would be to deal with this yourself. The disappointment on his face would be too much to bear. You'd rather never look at him again then have to see how sad he was going to be when you told him. If you had to tell him. 
You ran your thumb along the band of your engagement ring as the doctor gave you a quick examination. "Have you had vaginal intercourse in the last forty-eight hours?"
"N-No," you sputtered. "My fiancé is deployed. He's in Japan."
"Did you masturbate?"
You shook your head; you were so tired, you could barely clean up after dinner each day, let alone get yourself off. "No."
She pulled the gown down again and said, "It's most likely just your cervical tissue reacting to something, but let's get you taken back for an ultrasound to be sure."
"Thanks," you sobbed, letting your palm come to rest on your belly as you closed your eyes and tried to stay afloat in your own terrible thoughts. "I just want to know if I'm still pregnant."
------------------------
"Finally," Bradley muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked through the hangar with his helmet in his hand. Six weeks was a long time to be away from you right now. Too long, really. He had kind of fallen in love with flying Shadowhawk, but nothing compared to sharing a bed with you and reading bedtime stories to Noah. And he was itching to see the newest ultrasound photos.
He'd been confined to the Naval base at Yokosuka except for one day when the weather was too unsafe to let him fly. He took a short trip back into the city, chaperoned of course, but he was allowed to visit a bookstore. He ended up buying eight books for Noah and the baby, and he couldn't wait to show them to you. And he'd be able to do that soon, because he finally had a return date. If he did his math right, he'd be home in time to take Noah out to get candy on Halloween, as long as he wasn't delayed.
With just a few days left flying Shadowhawk, he really let the throttle tilt. He could hear Admiral Palmer warning him about his speed over the crystal clear comms, and he smiled before he responded. "Yes, sir. I'll ease off." But he didn't until he made a beautiful loop through the air. He was getting used to the ridiculous pressure on his body now, and when he got to San Diego and switched back to his Super Hornet, he was going to miss this feeling. He couldn't wait to try to describe it to you.
He knew what was coming. He was anticipating hours spent looking at his own flight data with the officers, but when the time came, he just felt antsy. The sixth-generation fighter had been moved back into the hangar for storage. He'd taken his last flight. His bags were packed, and he was ready to go home, but he had to pretend to be interested in what came next: at least fifty admirals sifting through data before anything would be determined. Bradley hoped these jets would eventually come to find a home with the US Navy, but it would be years from now if they did. He had done his part, and he wanted to be let loose again.
When he woke up on the day of his departure, he signed a final set of privacy forms before his phone was returned to him as he was ushered out to a car waiting to take him to the airport. He couldn't leave soon enough at this point. All he could picture was your face and Noah's, happy to see him home again. He could practically feel your body in his hands, and it was the only thing he wanted. 
Once he settled in for the short ride, he turned his phone on to find that he only had a tiny bit of battery left. Without even checking to see what time it was at home, he called you. He'd let his phone die talking to you right now if need be, and then he could charge it later. But you didn't answer. That was okay.
"Princess, I'm coming home. I'm on my way to the airport in Tokyo right now, and it's a ten hour flight. I think I'll be landing after midnight, so don't worry about getting Noah out of bed to come pick me up. I'll get an Uber or a taxi. I can't wait to see you, Baby. I love you."
He ended the call, and as soon as he started to investigate all of his missed text messages, the phone died. He was dropped off at the airport with barely half an hour to spare before his flight was scheduled to leave, and that's when he realized he didn't even have his phone charger with him. 
"Fuck," he muttered, rooting around in his bag but coming up with nothing. Maybe it got lost in his room in the barracks when he dumped his bag out? Maybe it was in his duffle which he checked at the airline desk. Regardless, he didn't have time to try to buy a new one, because his flight was already boarding by the time he found the gate. After questioning the flight attendants as to whether or not they had the type of charger he needed, he gave up hope, tossed his phone into his bag and tried to sleep for as much of the ten hour flight as he possibly could. He would be home with his family soon enough.
------------------------
You played the voicemail message from Bradley over and over again, but you could barely understand a word that he said. It sounded garbled and fuzzy, and it kept cutting out. He said something about being in Tokyo and something about Noah, and then he told you he loved you, but that's all you could figure out for sure.
"Can you understand what he's saying?" you asked softly, holding up the phone for Natasha to listen to it pretty much as soon as she walked through your front door in her uniform. "I've been trying to decipher this all day."
She took it from your hand and listened to it on speakerphone and then listened again with it pressed to her ear as she made a face. "Hang on," she muttered, playing it a third time. 
She'd been staying at the house with you since your overnight visit to the emergency room. She had essentially been doing everything for you and Noah so you barely had to lift a finger after work each day. You wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, but every time you tried to thank her, she told you it was no big deal and that Bradley was her best friend. You were afraid you were eating into her time with Javy, but she just rolled her eyes and said, "Hoes before bros."
She listened to the message one more time before she said, "It kind of sounds like he's coming home? And he's going to arrive after midnight? And he's getting an Uber from the airport?"
Your heart beat faster. "Do you think he means tonight?"
Noah came running into the living room with a coloring sheet in each hand and Skittles bounding after him. "Aunt Natasha!"
"Hey squirt," she said, picking him up and flying him around the room. She turned back to you and said, "Hopefully it means he'll be back tonight. Let's just leave the porch light on after dinner in case." Then she hauled Noah off to the kitchen where she started cooking while you took a shower. 
Dr. Kelly had immediately cut your hours back for which you were so thankful. She was very understanding when you talked to her. Tomorrow was Halloween, and it was Saturday. The plan was for Natasha to wear the costume you originally bought for Bradley, but if he arrived home tonight and was able to function tomorrow, maybe he'd want to go out to collect candy himself. You were just aching to see him at this point, and now your skin was tingling with the anticipation of him holding you.
After you ate, you tried to clean, but Natasha said, "I'll clean up after Noah's in bed." And then she sent you to the couch with a blanket while she and Noah took Skittles for a long walk down to the beach. You fell asleep there shortly after they left, and you weren't surprised that you ended up in your bed even before Noah was in his for the night. 
You let Natasha take care of everything while you tried to text Bradley again. You'd been trying all day, but he hadn't responded to a single one of them. You checked to see which flights were currently on their way from Tokyo to San Diego, and three of them were arriving late tonight. Honestly, the garbled voicemail had you on edge all day long, making you more exhausted than usual. You fell asleep hoping that he was on one of the flights and that he would be home soon.
And then you woke up to a loud voice coming from the living room. You jolted in bed, throwing the covers off of you in alarm before you realized that the voice was familiar.
"Princess? Baby, it's me! It's Bradley. I didn't want to scare you."
"Bradley," you gasped, jumping out of bed and grabbing at your nightstand until you could get your footing. "Bradley!" you called out a little louder.
"It's me, Baby," he answered. "Is Nat here? Why is her SUV in the driveway?"
You nearly collided with his best friend in the dark hallway, and when you both made it out to the dimly lit living room, you saw him standing there. Tears filled your eyes as you raced for him, and he picked you up into his arms and cradled you against his big body while Skittles whimpered at his feet.
"Daddy," you whispered, aware that Natasha was standing right behind you. "I missed you so much."
He kissed along your neck and your cheek and all of the parts of your face that he could reach as he said, "I love you. I love you so much. I missed you and Noah and the baby." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear and said, "Hey, Nat. What are you doing here? And why are you holding my mom's antique lamp?"
You turned to glance at her over your shoulder where she was indeed standing with the lamp in her hand at her side in her ratty old shirt and lounge pants. "I was making sure you were really you and not an intruder."
He laughed. "You were going to beat the shit out of me with a lamp?"
"Absolutely," she said with a yawn. "Welcome home." Then she turned and went back to the extra bedroom leaving the two of you alone.
Bradley's lips were on yours immediately, and even though you knew you had so much to tell him, you let yourself enjoy the indulgence of his kisses. You whimpered against his mouth and brushed your fingers softly through his hair. "I'm assuming we need to talk," he murmured. "You wanna tell me why she's here?"
You nodded and whispered, "Let's go to the bedroom."
He left his bags on the floor and carried you there immediately, setting you on the unmade bed and dropping down next to you. The room was pretty dark, and you curled up against his body, getting as close to him as you could. You inhaled his scent and soaked up his warmth, finally feeling better than you had in over a month. All of the fear seemed to wash away as he said, "I'm sorry I only left you that one message, but my phone died, and I can't find my charger. Nobody on my flight had the right one either, because apparently my phone is as ancient as I am."
You laughed softly. "I like vintage things, remember?"
"I do recall that," he replied easily. "Is tonight the first night Nat slept here?"
You took a deep breath and whispered, "No. She's been staying here for about a week to help out. Ever since I started... bleeding."
"Bleeding?" he echoed, his arm wrapping around you a little tighter as you nodded against his neck and tried to gather your thoughts. "Princess, what happened?"
His voice was alert and strong yet worried and cautious, and you told him, "I went to the bathroom last week, and when I wiped I was bleeding." His sharp intake of breath had you scrambling as you said, "The baby is okay."
"Are you okay?" he asked, gently rolling you onto your back to get a better look at your face. "Fuck. I should have never agreed to go away." He ran his big hand across your forehead and down your cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you promised as you cried for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I was just so scared," you admitted, your voice barely a squeak. "I was so scared the baby was gone."
You realized Bradley's fingertips were rubbing soothing circles against your side as he whispered, "I'm sorry I left. I'm so sorry I wasn't here to take care of everything. Please, tell me what happened. Tell me everything."
--------------------------
Bradley got you cuddled under the covers, and he turned the lamp on so he could better see your face. You looked beautiful if not exhausted, and he was so grateful for his best friend being there for you. "I guess I overdid it a little bit," you admitted. "I took some extra hours at work and started getting the bedroom ready for the baby. I just wanted the weeks to pass quickly, you know? When I started bleeding, I called Natasha, and she came right over. She's basically been here since then."
He kissed your nose. "What did the doctors do?"
You closed your eyes and whispered, "They checked me over. Every inch. And they found that I needed progesterone shots. They caught it just in time, so maybe it was good that I ended up there."
Bradley felt like an idiot, but it didn't matter as long as you were okay. "What's the progesterone for exactly?"
You smiled as you snuggled closer to him. "It'll make my uterus better for the baby. Safer. The injections are pretty common, and I only need to get them a few more times. But I'm tired of all the needles, and now I can kind of understand how some of my own patients feel."
Bradley laced his finger with yours and asked, "And you're sure you're okay? Perfectly safe and healthy?"
"Yes. The baby is, too."
He kissed your forehead as he realized he was crying. "Just as long as you're okay, Princess. I love you." You nodded as you fell asleep, and he knew how badly you needed to rest. After he turned the light off, he held you against his chest and tried to make sense of everything. 
You and the baby were okay. Your doctor and the staff from the emergency room were monitoring your blood work every week now. You were getting injections in your thigh which were making your leg sore and bruised, but it was helping the baby. As much as he'd loved flying Shadowhawk, he regretted his time away from home a little bit more now.
When you rolled away from him around six o'clock, he had barely slept. Carefully, he extracted himself from the bed, and Skittles came trotting right over to him. He picked her up and straightened out the wrinkled clothing he had been wearing for way too long, but when he walked out to his kitchen, he found Nat was already there. She turned to face him as Skittles started licking his face, and he walked right into her arms for a hug.
"Thank you," he whispered, letting her hold him while he cried. "Is she really okay? She told me she's fine."
She rubbed his back and said, "Mostly. I think. She is stubborn, Bradley. When I got here, she drove herself to the emergency room before I even had a full grasp of the fact that she was pregnant. She told me to stay with Noah until she came home, and when I told her I'd get Javy to come stay here while I met her at the hospital, she yelled at me."
"That tracks," he said softly. He thought about how you stood up for him and Noah and fought alongside him for custody. Even after you got hurt. Even after he hurt you. 
"She was terrified that you'd be upset about a potential miscarriage."
Bradley felt like she slapped him in the face. "Shit," he grunted as she released him from the hug. It wasn't like that kind of thing could usually be prevented. He would have been sad, yeah, but only because he was so excited. He wouldn't have been upset with you though. Not at all. "I'll talk to her more about that when she wakes up." He scratched his head and set Skittles down. "Did you clean my kitchen?"
"Yes," she replied evenly as she switched on the coffee maker. "And if you try to thank me for anything I did, I swear to god, I will fucking key your Bronco. I did it for her, because she needed help."
He caught himself before he could thank her again, too afraid to find out if she was telling the truth. She probably was. "I'll make sure she's getting all the rest she needs. She will not be lifting a finger around here."
"That's what I like to hear," she said, patting him on the chest. "Now, I'm going to take one of your travel mugs full of your overpriced coffee from your fancy machine and head back to my place. I'll call you later, and I'll stop by tonight to hand out candy to your trick-or-treaters while you take Noah around the neighborhood."
"Shit, I guess I need to go out and buy candy and costumes and everything."
As her coffee brewed, Nat said, "It's all been taken care of. The bags of candy are on top of the fridge."
Bradley glanced in that direction and said, "You have to let me repay you, Nat."
She grabbed the travel mug and pulled her keys out of her pocket, brandishing them in his face. "Fuck around and find out, Bradshaw. You will not thank me, and you will not pay me back. You'll just let me come over and play with Noah at least once a week now while you take care of your wife-to-be. Those are my terms. Have a nice day."
"Okay," he called out, following her to the door to make sure her key went directly into her own ignition where it belonged. Then he got to work, pulling up some recipes on his phone; he was going to attempt to be the best dad and almost husband in the entire world, because that's what his family needed. 
------------------------
If you have been through any of this kind of shit like I have, I'm sending you a hug. It's stressful and scary, and not something you should have to deal with alone. Bradley is home and ready to be the absolute best. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 57
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hamiltonells · 11 months
Text
pieces of us~max Verstappen
pairings:max verstappen x reader
warnings: pregnancy,swearing,smut,max bring a simp, time skips,bad writing, please note that the time it takes place is kinda everywhere. literally bad bad bad smut writing
summary: you always wanted to become a mother, now the time has come.
also, please request any dad!max universe ideas:)
side note: I hate my writing so much, I think I need to do it from different pov, but it’s horrible, so enjoy this crap writing
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you always dreamed of becoming a mother, watching your own mother doing such a good job probably didn't help, you would always find yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to have a mini you running about.
you met max through Daniel, max was and still is everything you looked for in a man, you don't think you met anyone quite as prefect than him, that was five years ago.
now, your eight months heavily pregnant and let's just say you didn't think pregnancy or motherhood was going to like this, you can't walk, you waddle, half of the time your confused on what your feeling with you hormones messing you about, moodiness, also the constant hunger.
still saying that you loved it, nothing comes close to the feeling if you little of kicking around inside you and let's just say max? he more than loved it.
~
“fuck” max grunted as he rounded the corner of your living room “fucking stupid wall” he grunted again as he hit his toe on the wall, he could hear your laugh when he finally reached you.
“you won’t be laughing if I dropped you ice cream would you” he sweetly smiled at you sarcastically as you smile dropped as he passes you the bowl of different flavours of ice cream.
it was incredibly hot, too hot for you liking as you was spread out on the sofa in maxs shorts and a crop top, showing your belly the heat was killing you let’s say hot weather and pregnancy didn’t go together,the small fan max found in your guys loft pointing at you.
max sits down next to you, in nothing but his shorts his shirtless body showing each of his little freckles that he has.
“hello you” max puts his his hands on you bump, your little one immediately kicks, maxs leans down and kisses you stomach, his beard rough against you belly and you let out a giggle as he kisses all the way up you body, untill he gets to you lips and double kissing them.
“don’t forget we have the red bull party this week” you hum to your love as he drops his head cuddling into you bump, max sighs “ we don’t have to go, your eight months y/n/n, don’t want you to be on your feet long and get tired” he explains, “max we’re going” you laugh as you put your hand through his hair.
~
“Je ziet er prachtig uit”max says while wrapping his arms around your waist, soothing the silk dress you have on.
(you look beautiful)
max has a all black suit on, the white crisp shirt underneath his tie around his neck he looks handsome as always, you have a dark deep blue silk dress on perfectly hugging your stomach.
“can you do my tie for me please love” he asks as you turn yourself to face him, you reach around his neck to do it, you smile widely when he smothers kisses all over your face.
“please don’t tell me you wearing them” he sighs as he sees the stiletto heels on your bed you just smile at him.
max doesn’t seem to understand why you wear heels while pregnant they hurt you and you always complain that you feet ache without the stupid heels but to you, heels make you feel beautiful still and that you can show people you not actually letting you self to while pregnant.
“don’t complain please max” you state not wanting to get into another argument about the heels.
“we’re going to be late” you rushed and you slipped you heels on ans done then up and around you ankle.
~
“max y/n welcome” Christian welcomed you as you step in to the restaurant, it was only supposed a small party get together, friends and family but Christian had rented out a fancy restaurant.
you greet him, giving him a side hug, you belly slightly getting in the way, “not long to go now eh” he glimpses at your stomach.
“hopefully, can’t wait to meet the little guy” max chuffed, your head spin around to him “sexiest, how do you know it’s a boy?” you joke with him, you wanted it to be a surprise, you wanted a home birth with just you and max and midwife you trusted deeply.
the music was quite loud, you could see Daniel rushing to get to the two of you “there you are” he expressed as he went in for a hug “my favourite verstappen” he said as he presses a kiss to you cheek, “aye” max snapped “what about me” he said.
“close third” Daniel mumbled, to impressed and busy rubbing at your stomach “my favourite is really the little one” he said as he bent up straight again, going over and giving max a brotherly hug.
“let’s get you sat down” max said when you winced at the aching pain in you feet “zei dat je die verdomde dingen moest dragen” he rants to himself as he guides you with an arm around you waist, to you seat at the table, seeing you names on the nicely decorated table.
told you not to wear the fucking things
he softly sat you down on the chair, bending down to undo you heels “mmh you need a haircut” you softly speak as you dive your hand into his hair, he carefully slipped you heel off “I wanna keep them on” you mumble to yourself and max “and I want you to listen to me” he grunted, max always knew what was best for you and what you wanted it.
you hum when he starts to massage you swollen and aching feet, “max no, people are here” you say embarrassed “I don’t care, if people have a problem then fuck them” you smiled as a warmth spread through you.
he slipped them back on “keep them on for a bit while we are sat down” he looks up at you and smiles you give him a peck on the cheek, “I love you”
truth be told, even though you always wanted a baby and experience motherhood you and max didn’t plan it, at time max won his second world championship you both agreed that it wasn’t the right time, but in reality it was the perfect time.
you remember the night it happened as it brings a smile to your face “what you smiling about” you hear maxs rough but soft voice next to you snap yourself out of your memory, you laugh “the game room” those three words out a devilish smirk on your lovers face.
“the night this one happened” you could hear the smirk through this voice as his hand goes from your thigh to your bump.
Y/N pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. max picked her up and held her on his hip, pinching her thigh.
"What did I tell you," dropping her on the small sofa max had put in the room,and crawled on top of her, "about being a brat?" His eyes were wild with anger and lust and love.
you had been teasing him all night while he had been streaming, “neuk me, je bent zo mooi” his dutch coming out of his naturally while his hand goes don’t your thigh and pushing himself down so that he’s between your thighs.
fuck me your so beautiful
groaning when his fingers hovered over the damp material of your underwear, pressing lightly against it as he inspected how wet you were, pressing a kiss to them then removing them roughly.
your hands went flying to his hair for something to pull when when he licked up your folds without warning chewing on you lip to hold the moans, he added his finger teasing your cilt, curling his fingers then max’s mouth covered your clit and you trembled.
“this for me baby?" Y/N nodded, her lips parting, "Tell me who's it for “know you can do it." your back arched, “yours, you max”
“that’s my girl”
“Need you maxie“ that’s all he needed to hear, pushing himself so he can reach you, burying his mouth against your neck as he reaches between you, guiding his thick cock into your heat.
“oh mijn verdomme”he bites down on your shoulder,he mutters a few curses, you once again arch your back running your fingers down his back your nails drawing blood on his back.
oh my fucking
his thrusts became more rough grasping your waist for support he deeply pushes him self into before your both come undone at the same time, his hole body dropping down onto you.
“that was a good night” his smirk growing wider, you lean so your side so that your head lays on his shoulder, your arm wrapped around his, you had finished you meal and was just chatting.
“come and dance with me” he whispered into your ear you looked at max surprised “max babe, I’m eight months pregnant and I waddle when I walk I also struggle to hug you” you said while sniggering.
“shush stop complaining”he got up and pushed his chair out of the way while bending down to undo your heels for the second time this night and leaving them on your seat.
he pulled you up to the little dance floor where the soft music was playing. a couple of familiar faces smile at the two of you, you felt the little squeeze he gave you as he held the way stoping when he pulled you into him your arm immediately going around his waist and your hand slotting into his”can’t wait for our little family” you hear him whisper into your ear,you smile up at him “we love you so much” you speak for yourself and you little one, you can’t wait this is what you dreamed of when you was a little girl.
you give him a look when he slightly stretches his arms out making you do the same, he gives you a twirl and pulls you back into him and his hands land in you hips to pull you up so you give him a kiss.
“it’s been a long night let’s go” he says when you both pull apart, him directing you though the crowd of people to get your stuff and heels, you say your goodbyes to everyone, max puts his jacket over your shoulders, heels in his one hand while you walk out of the restaurant, the first thing you expect to hit you was the chilly air but you was far wrong, the first thing that did hit you was bright flashes, max moves so your behind him, covering you.
when you do finally make it home you sit straight down onto the sofa, you noticed a slight pain in your stomach your hands go straight to your bump.
yell for max who comes rushing down stairs with a pair of his shorts and shirt in his hands “what’s happening” he looks so panicked, “think we’re going to have this baby” as you explain about the contractions “oh my, fuck,shit” he looks around for his phone, he’s now in a comfortable pair of shorts and a black shirt.
he helps you get changed in to your well his comfortable clothes.
your walking around the kitchen while max is on the phone to the midwife, Eva,saying that your contractions are now six minutes long.
you look at him, as he smiles you looks down just as the same time he does to feel a wet feeling down your legs.
max is there though quick to rush down and take his shorts of you and clear the mess that’s on the floor.
“awe okay” you say breathing heavily “it’s hurting a lot more now” leaning on the kitchen side, max comes behind you slightly rubbing and giving you back a relief “she’s on her way, won’t be long angel”
“whooh that one hurts” as you lean back into him, holding the side.
max guides you to the living room and onto the sofa “you ok, you comfortable” you completely ignore him “you look handsome” you softly express “thank you” he laughs and pulls you into a kiss.
the door bells pulls you both apart as max rushes to get the door “see how quick that was”
is little while later, max is behind your on your bed,sheets underneath you with everything that your midwife needs around you.
“oooh I can’t do it” you half cry and half whine as you push, “ don’t talk stupid, your the strongest women I know baby, let’s meet our little one yeah, you need to push” max softly strokes your cheek.
“attagirl, that’s good” the midwife explains.
you push you everything you have, as you grip maxes hand, you groan in pain.
your met with a cry, the relief comes over you,, “she’s perfect” the midwife tells you both.
you look up at max, a little girl.
“oh my god, a little girl, my little girl” max speaks as he kisses the side of your head.
your little girl is placed right on your chest.
“got both of my girls now”
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youraverageaemondsimp · 8 months
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“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter(?)!Reader // PART TWO
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Here is the long awaited part 2! Though it is shorter than the last one, ik i said I'll publish this after my exams but i got a sudden burst of motivation, also there likely won't be any further parts!
MDNI
WARNINGS: p in v sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, age gap (9ish years), lactation kink, pregnancy kink(?), tiddy sucking, fingering, fluff, slight angst, giving birth, past trauma experience, + not proof read.
WC: 3.8k
« part one // 🎄 special »
You woke up this morning tired from the activities of last night, you stirred in your sleep which woke aemond up as he unwrapped his hands around you and rubbed his eyes, “Good morning bunny.” he tells you, voice deep and hoarse and you mumble a good morning back before placing a kiss on his face.
It has been a few months since then, becoming officially a part of Aemond's family, though you and Aemond were not married yet, you both acted like a married couple anyway, he called you his wife rather than referring to you as his girlfriend.
You had moved into his house, fetching all the things you needed from your old apartment and shifting to his house, Aenys was more than happy, he constantly referred to you as mama now.
Today was Aemond's day off, which is why he was still in bed with you today, lazing around and basking in your comfort, but to be honest he literally owns everything and can take breaks whenever he wants but he doesn't do that, wanting to remain punctual.
You both get off the bed and go get ready, today you were going to a daycare centre to get Aenys to finally join and mingle with friends around his age, Aemond had rejected this idea when you suggested it, but with enough convincing from your side he agreed, he was still reluctant as hell, bring overprotective of his son.
Aemond had also offered to pay for your tuition since you said you wanted to pursue further education, but you denied it feeling as if it's too much but he insisted, and he eventually got his way in the end, he basically fucked his way to it.
Your classes would start next week, and since you and Aemond would be gone, Aenys would once again be alone in the house, and Aemond didn't want to hire another babysitter, you had also used this point to convince him to put Aenys in a daycare.
You both quickly got ready, throwing on some casuals and went to Aenys' room to wake him up, Aemond went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the three of you while you got Aenys ready for the day, and as usual, he was on his best behaviour. You placed a small kiss to his nose which made him giggle, before picking him up and going outside his room, towards the kitchen and the dining area, you had noticed how the food had already been set and aemond was bringing in the utensils before he placed them down. You put Aenys down on his chair before pecking Aemond on the lips and you three sat there and ate.
The drive to the daycare was relatively small, only a few minutes. You could tell Aemond was nervous, seeing him tap the car steer repeatedly, a habit you had noticed. Aenys was sitting in the back side as you engaged in a conversation with him.
“I'm swooo excited! I hope it's fun!!!” he yelled enthusiastically and you chuckled, “I'm sure it will be fun, Aenys.” and just like that, you have already reached the daycare centre.
It was big, of course it would be, it's the rich kids version.
You got out of the car first and opened the backdoor to fetch Aenys, and his little cute bag he wore on his back, he was jumping up and down in excitement, and Aemond reluctantly got out of his own car and sighed heavily.
You watched as a few parents came out of their cars as well, basically dropping their kids off, and soon you and Aemond went to do the same.
Aenys was hesitant to let go of your hand first, the teacher had encouraged him to come but he hid behind your leg and covered himself from view due to shyness, you bent down to his level and comforted him, giving him reassurance and to your surprise Aemond also did the same thing, telling him it will be okay, and just then did Aenys let go of your hand and went to the teacher, before she led him inside
This moment made you tear up, watching him go on his own world and then you heard a shaky breath, and looked to your side.
Aemond was trying to contain his emotions, probably scared that something might happen to him, you took your hand in his before rubbing it reassuringly, and he held yours tightly in comfort.
You both stood there for a moment before making your way back to the car.
“What if something happens to him?” Aemond speaks up suddenly, voice laced with concern and you look at him, “Nothing will happen Aemond, I'm sure he'll be fine. You can't just keep him locked away forever.” you reply.
“You're right… it's just-” he sighs heavily.
“I can understand, it must be tough.” you held his hand in yours and he looked at you, and gave you a small smile, before he got inside the car, you went around and got in.
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Everything went fine that week, and life began to move, you got into your university of choice and with the major you had chosen in child psychology, classes were going well.
Luckily, you and Aenys' hours matched perfectly, You would drop him off at daycare before going to your university, and then pick him up, Aemond's however were still the same.
But for an odd reason, a few days into your classes you started feeling heavily nauseous, even throwing up sometimes. At first you thought it was due to stress but then you noticed how sensitive your breasts had become, and how your period was late.
You went to pick up Aenys, waiting outside the car while he rushed out of the building with his friends, he was smiling, his baby teeth on full display and it made your heart warm up, his eyes lit up even more when he spotted you, saying goodbye to his friend before he ran over to you and you picked him up, giving him a kiss on the head, “Mama! I want to sit in the front today!!” he said and you reluctantly agreed, not being able to say no to his puppy eyes, you carefully seated him in the front seat before securing the seatbelt and then got into the otherside to drive off.
You usually go home straight after this but you went to the pharmacy and got pregnancy tests, yes tests, multiple cause you really wanted to be sure.
After reaching home, you put Aenys to nap, not before feeding him lunch and then you finally relaxed, knowing he was fast asleep in his room, you immediately took out the pregnancy tests before going to the bathroom to run the tests.
You wait on the bathroom seat, waiting for the tests to load up, legs bouncing in nervousness as you watch the three tests take their time to process and show the results.
Your eyes darted to the first one and you felt your heart leap in your throat, and then the second, and then the third.
Positive. Positive. Positive.
You did not know how to feel, you had mixed feelings about this. You were happy but also not at the same time.
Waiting for Aemond to get home had never felt more agonising.
Time felt like it moved extremely slowly, You were left alone with your nerves, Aenys was napping for longer than usual, or at least it was what it felt like. You scrolled through your phone not knowing if you should text him. You knew he was probably busy, and announcing that you're pregnant didn't seem appropriate, but you couldn't wait until night for his presence.
‘Aemond?
Can you please come home as soon as your work allows you to?’
You text him that.
You honestly expected him to be home a few hours later and not in just half an hour.
He bursted through the front door, slamming it behind him, making you panic thinking you had an intruder but it was just him.
“What happened?” he asks you, voice concerned as he grips your shoulders tightly. You snap out of your shock and hold his arms, before you lead him to the bedroom.
He waits anxiously as he watches you go into the bathroom and bring out one of the tests and show it to him.
He freezes.
Eye darting up at you and the test.
Breathing growing heavy as he processes what you're showing to him, you're taken aback when he yanks you forward and presses his lips tightly against yours, the test drops from your hand and soon, you're pressed up against the near wall as Aemond continues to kiss you, hand trailing up your shirt, pulling your bra down before pawing at your breast.
You hiss into his mouth at the sensitivity and he slowly massages it, thumb tracing over your nipple, rubbing circles as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp.
He grinds his hip against yours, and you can feel how hard he is, bulge pressing against you, he pulls away with a wet click, breathing heavily, you can see by the way his eyes shine brightly that he is happy, looking at you with so much adoration, his lips trail down your neck, pressing kisses there and you gasp, hands entangled in his hair.
He pulls back slightly before undoing his pants, still in his suit having arrived from work just a few moments ago, he removes his coat before letting it fall on the ground and then his tie, unbuttoning a few buttons of his shirt. Then he presses against you once again, kissing you so desperately before grabbing you by your thighs and lifting you, you wrap your legs around him to maintain balance.
Just like that he pulls you off the wall and takes you over to the bed, laying you down on it as he hands work to undo your clothes, pulling off your top and bottoms, leaving you only in underwear, but soon that's off too, and now you were fully bare to the the world.
It was arousing, watching him be fully clothed while you had nothing covering you, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. He pulls his cock out of its confinement and gives it some pumps.
He spreads your legs apart, revealing your folds to him, burning holes into the sight, and then he enters inside, you moan so loudly at the intrusion, that he has his hand slapping over your mouth once again, “Be quiet, what if he hears?” he hisses softly and you felt an extreme amount of deja vu but you nodded, biting your lip, gripping the sheets below as arch your back.
And just as he was about to start moving, you hear Aenys, knocking on the door.
“Mum!! Are you okay?” you hear his voice and Aemond quickly pulls out, “Fuck, seven hells.” groaning, annoyed by the intrusion and plops down on the bed next to you, and you put on your clothes as fast as you can, before fixing your hair and opening the door.
“Momma! I heard you screaming, are you okay.” he asks, his eyes looking at you with such concern and you smile at him gently, trying to ignore the heat in your face due to embarassment, and nod, Aemond appears behind you and Aenys is surprised to see him.
“Papa's home!” he beams brightly and Aemond picks him up, “Did you not have work papa?” he asks and Aemond answers with a quick no.
“Your mother called me for an emergency. So I rushed over.” He answers and Aenys looks at you concerned.
“What happened mama?” he looks at you, asking you a question, eyebrows raising in concern as his voice becomes less hearable at the end, worried that you were badly hurt.
“Nothing too serious Aenys, it's just that- you know how you told me you always wanted a sibling?” you ask and he nods, “Well, you are getting one, I'm pregnant.” and he squeals in joy.
“Right now?!!!” he asks, which makes you and Aemond chuckle, “Not right now, it will take time.” Aemond tells him and Aenys pouts, “But I can't wait that long!” he sulks and you chuckle.
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Aemond didn't know what happened to him the moment you started to swell, the proof of his seed taking as your womb stretched to accommodate the growing foetus, which inevitably caused your tummy to grow, drove him mad.
You looked so pretty with his child in your belly, you were still taking classes, Aemond had requested for them to be conducted online as you cannot travel back and forth, he didn't want to risk your comfort and travelling too much can cause stress for you.
You were 6 months along, and Aenys often talked to your belly, saying things like 'I can't wait for you to come out! I have my toys, hopefully you'll like them!' And then rubbing your stomach. Though he was extremely confused at first, at how a literal human being is growing inside you.
Aemond can never take his hands off your bump, he would rest his head on it gently, press a few kisses and tell the unborn baby how much he loves them, he sometimes dozes off on it, feeling comforted.
He became more physical, well not like he was any less physical, but it was becoming more noticeable and desparate now.
Which led to the moment now.
Him pounding himself deep into you, not hard enough to hurt you but just enough as his hand is placed on your belly gently, caressing the bump before it makes its way up towards your breast, playing with the nipple and pulling on it.
Your hands were held behind your back, face pushed down unto the bed as he took you from behind, watching as your body kept jolting and the moans helplessly leaving your mouth.
“F-fuck Aemond I'm close!” you whimper and he grunts, “Cum for me baby, soak my cock.” he responded and that was enough for you to just reach your peak.
You moaned loudly into the room, and soon after, he came too, spilling himself inside you and pulling out, you quickly turned on your back and laid in exhaustion, hand resting on the bump as you breathed in deeply.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks concerned but you shake your head no, “No, I'm just tired.” you tell him and he places a kiss on your forehead before cleaning both you and himself up.
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The pains you felt were unbearable, the contractions being extremely painful as you tried to breath in, just like the nurses had instructed, and you pushed as much as you can, gripping the sheets and Aemond's hand tightly, it hurt for him but he knew you were in more pain than him.
You huffed in exhaustion, not being able to push anymore, eyes drooping off into slumber, sweat covering you, the pain was keeping you awake but making you weak at the same time, and the moment Aemond saw how your grip loosened on his hand, he panicked.
His soul left his body in that moment for a second.
No way.
Please gods no.
Not her.
Not her as well.
His lone eye widened, as his mind raced.
Truth be told, when you were nearing the final month of your pregnancy, he became more paranoid, wondering if you'll suffer the same fate as Alys, and he didn't want that, and yet the scene in front of him was pointing exactly in that direction.
Maybe he was cursed.
Maybe any woman that gives birth to his children is doomed.
A thousand thoughts flowed in and out.
Until he felt your grip tighten again, accompanied by a loud scream as you gave the final push, your ears were ringing and your head spinning, but soon everything was silenced by the sound of a newborn baby crying.
“It's a girl.” they announced.
You let out a shaky breath as you watched in tiredness while the doctors cleaned the baby up and tended to you, before giving the baby to you, you smiled at her, the babe now more calm and cooing.
You noticed her white tuft of hair atop of her head, smiling at the fact that she got her father's looks, and you turned to look at Aemond who seemed to be in daze.
You were alive.
He was happy that the baby was born, but he was more happier that you made it out alive.
“What do you wish to name her?” Your tired voice asks him and he snaps out of his daze, taking in his daughter's features.
Though she is yet to grow to her full features, Aemond already knew that she was already resembling him, her eyes opened to reveal the purple, which was currently resembling almost a dark shade as the baby was just born.
“Daenys.” He answers and you smile.
“Such a pretty name, similar to Aenys.” you comment and he smiles.
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It had already been a year since that day, the day Daenys was born, and she was already turning one, Aemond got all emotional, shedding a few tears at the pictures of her first birthday before his attentions snaps to her running around with her brother Aenys, or more like tries to run, it's just her speed waddling considering how she only learnt to walk recently.
You can clearly tell Aemond has a hard time accepting that his kids are growing up.
“Baaaaa Awenys!” She babbles his name in frustration and he giggles before stopping and letting her come to him. Aenys was such a good older brother, he was already protective of his sister, not letting any harm come her way.
“Be careful Daenys.” he watches as you go up to them and sit down with them, probably having finished your online classes. Aemond shifted his office to his house, mostly working from home since he decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, especially his wife.
Yes, wife.
You both got married soon after.
He decided to finally go through with his plan.
And he had never been so happy in his entire life.
You watched as Aenys took his sister in his playroom and started playing with her, sharing his toys, you smiled at the heart warming sight before coming over to sit next to Aemond on the couch.
“Feels like only yesterday I gave birth to her.” you tell him, noticing the pictures he took on her 1st birthday.
He leans his head against your shoulder, breathing your scent in, “Hmm.” he hums, agreeing with you.
“I want one that has your features.” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them and you look at him, “I mean- both aenys and daenys look like me, or at least, have my features, I want a kid that has yours, your [hair-color] coloured hair.” he lifts his head up and caresses your hair, you give him a smile.
“What are we waiting for then?” you tease and his eye widens before he smirks too.
“I'll call my mother to pick them up.” he says hurriedly, way too excited and quickly dials her number which makes you huff out a laugh.
Getting some alone time with kids around is tough, and getting some action while at it? Nope not happening.
It's not like Aemond blamed the kids for it, but he missed you, he often reminisced about the days in the past where he would fuck you on every surface possible when Aenys was asleep or not around, but now he isn't able to do that anymore, considering you both got busy with kids and work.
And the way motherhood suited you so much only made it worse, he has to constantly not think about wanting to get you pregnant over and over again, he loves it way too much for it to be normal, though he doesn't rob you of your independence.
Aenys and Daenys were so confused when Alicent came to pick them up, she gave you a knowing smirk and you blushed slightly, Aenys refused to go but Alicent somehow convinced him and so they went.
And now you both are alone.
Aemond had your hands tied above your hand and he took his sweet time with your body, kissing every inch that he missed for the past few months, savouring each and every little moment, the way his mouth would latch on to your nipple, leaking your sweet milk into his mouth, and he moans at the taste.
Though you had weaned off Daenys just recently, you still produced some amount of milk for a bit until your body had to adjust and realise that it shouldn't produce milk anymore since you aren't feeding anymore, and with Aemond now suckling it seems it might take a while.
“Fuck it tastes so divine.” he asserts, his hand moving up and down your body, giving the other breast a squeeze, and then he went lower and lower, fingers parting your folds as he dipped them inside, smirking at feeling how wet you were and you squirmed.
He started pumping them inside and out, watching as you gasped, hands struggling in their tied up state, he continued to suckle on your breast before shifting to the other one to do the same.
As you reach your peak on his fingers, he deattaches himself and pulls his fingers out, giving them a long sensual lick, before shoving them into your mouth, and you obey his silent command, sucking on it.
He pulls them out and his hands grap the underside of your thighs and lifts your hips, settling in a position where your legs rested on his shoulder as he entered in one swift motion, morning when he felt the ridge of your wall, he thrusted up into you violently, making you moan out loud and struggle to keep your hands still, nails digging into your own flesh at the pleasure being given to you.
He closed his eyes when he felt you clench around him, trying to stop himself from cumming before you, though it seemed to fail when he heard you let out a moan of his name, he grunted and spilled himself inside you, but continued to move, his hand rubbed circles unto your clit, urging you to reach your orgasm and you do.
“Fuck! Aem!” you throw your head back, as it hits you as a shock, electricity travelling up your body.
And that was the night Aenys' and Daenys' little sibling, a girl, once again, Aelora, was created.
Just like Aemond had hoped, she was born with your features, though she had one purple eye and one of your eye colour.
Aemond was content with his life, and you are finally pursuing your career and maintaining a healthy balance between work and life.
Everything was perfect.
———
GENERAL TAGLIST:
@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl
DM TO BE REMOVED!
PART TWO TAGLIST:
@marihoneywk @nightdiamond866 @targaryenmoony @siriusdumblittlepuppy @givemeeverything
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m0llygunn · 3 months
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friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)
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MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.
cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+
0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00
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Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.
“How are my girls doing today?”
Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 
Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 
With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.
His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.
With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.
“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.
Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.
“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 
“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 
“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.
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To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 
“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 
It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 
“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 
With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 
“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”
Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.
Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 
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They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.
After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 
The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 
“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 
With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.
“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.
“The pharmacy closes at eight.”
“I feel fine,” you shrug.
Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 
“You want to stay here while I go?”
“Go where?”
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.
“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 
────────────
Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 
“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 
“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.
“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 
“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.
“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”
He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.
“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 
Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 
It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 
Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 
“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 
His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.
“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 
“I’m scared,” you say quietly.
“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 
“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 
“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 
“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.
“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 
────────────
“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”
“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 
“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 
Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 
He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.
Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 
“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 
“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”
“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 
Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 
21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 
With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.
“It says negative.”
“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.
“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.
There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.
“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”
“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”
“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.
“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”
Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 
“You gonna sleep here?”
“Can I?’
“Of course,” he laughs.
────────────
If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 
If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 
If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 
If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…
If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 
You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.
────────────
“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.
“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  
The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.
Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.
────────────
“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 
Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 
“It's me.” 
“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 
“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.
“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”
“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.
“Do you want me to stop by after?
“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”
The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 
The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 
“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.
“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”
“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”
“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 
His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”
“And?”
“And you’re in a bad mood.”
You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 
────────────
Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.
Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.
Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 
But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 
When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?
You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 
“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 
Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 
“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 
“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  
“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.
Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 
Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”
“So what are you askin’?”
“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”
“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 
“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 
Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.
“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”
Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.
“Morning sickness?”
“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”
“Hormonal?”
“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.
“Bad mood? Mood swings?”
“Kind of?”
“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.
“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.
“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.
“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 
“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 
“So you think she’s pregnant?”
“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 
“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—
“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.
“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 
“You love her?”
“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”
“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.
And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 
────────────
After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 
He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.
Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 
He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 
Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?
“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 
He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”
“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 
“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…
Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”
“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 
Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?
Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.
Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.
With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.
“I think… maybe just in case?”
“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 
Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 
“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.
“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.
You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.
“Why?”
“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.
“I have insurance.”
“Good.”
“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.
“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”
“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.
He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 
He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.
“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 
“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.
“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 
“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.
Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 
“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 
“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.
“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 
With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.
“Are you sure?” 
“I’m really sure.” 
Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 
Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 
────────────
“Harder.” 
Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.
Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 
The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 
With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 
You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 
The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 
He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.
His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 
Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 
There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 
Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 
“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 
“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.
“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.
When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.
“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.
“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 
“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 
Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 
After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.
“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.
“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”
“You did it before,” you pout. 
“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 
Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 
“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.
“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 
────────────
You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.
When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.
“Think I should take that test.” 
“Yeah, I think so too.” 
────────────
With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.
He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 
At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 
This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 
Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 
His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 
“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.
“I was right?” 
“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”
“No.” 
“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.
With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 
“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.
He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 
You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.
“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."
You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.
“It’s blue,” you state.
“Pregnant.” 
Pregnant.
The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 
Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.
“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”
“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?
“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 
“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 
“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”
“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”
“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 
“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 
In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 
“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  
“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 
“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 
Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 
Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 
“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 
“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.
“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 
“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.
“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 
“I had morning sickness.”
“Yes you did. And mood swings.”
Pause.
“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 
“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.
“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.
You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 
“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 
“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 
“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.
“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 
“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.
Pregnant.
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tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)
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thank you for reading! <3
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