#faux pregnant

[jenny--forever]

hii, did you miss me?

#fake preggo #pretend pregnant #fake pregnant belly #fake pregnancy #preggophilia #preggie #pregnant kink #pregblr #pregnantbelly #huge pregnant belly #huge titts #mommy milkers #faux belly #faux pregnant #ready to pop #pregnant with multiples #bump #embarazada #preggo kink #preg #pregnancy fantasy #pregnancy art #pregnancy is beautiful #lactating kink #big pregnant belly #big belies #roanyer

[chromimis]

❝ TIL’ YOU DROP! ❞

— SYNOPSIS : classic overstimulation with jjk men.

— TAGS : gojo/geto/choso/toji x reader, smut, p in v, fingering, squirting (geto’s), size kink, dacryphilla, hair pulling, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, cursing, all lowercase intended !

☆ GOJO SATORU

“ a sight i’ll never get sick of…” gojo snickers to himself. taking in the sight of his sticky cum that he plastered on the display and dips of your back. some ropes of cum trickle from your spine to the crack of your ass.

his cerulean eyes then travel back to your small body; shaking from the aftershock of your orgasm. “ tsk tsk, hope yer’ not too fucked out for me…” his big hand made home on your hip, while his other tapped your swollen mound with his tip.

all senses came crashing back to you when he slowly, but surely stuffs himself back in the expanse of your cunt. “ satoru…” your kiss-bruised lips grunt out. every nerve of your body felt like it was alive and blazing on fire.

sticky fat globs of cum trickles down to the base of your plump ass to your thighs and everytime satoru’s sharp thrust align with your body; a loud sticky ‘ pap’ sound resonates loudly throughout the room and his ears. impossibly turning him on even more.

“ haah, t-turning me on even more. think you can handle five more rounds after tis’?” one of satoru’s legs are propped up, so he’s able to maintain his rhythm and dive into your pussy even further. creating more of an absolute mess out of you.

“ mmph— oh fuuuck! i—it’s too much, s-stop!” your body moves on its own and one of your legs fly up to slap satoru in the ass. but gojo’s firm hand slides down to still your ankle against the bed, while the rocks of his hips doesn’t stop even for a moment. grounding you completely on the bed so you won’t think to run away.

the feeling of him stirring your insides up and leaving your brain a mushy mess is enough to fill your clouded eyes with salty tears. a particularly wet sob catches the man’s attention, and he lets your ankle go to tug at your hair.

“ you crying on me, princess?” his cocky voice booms above you, and through your unintelligible sounds your mouth makes, you beg him to shut up. the bed jostles and creaks with every mind shattering thrust he gives you.

you couldn’t contain yourself any longer, a particular thrust of his has your vision brightening and you cumming on all ten inches of him with a loud scream followed by you collapsing on the bed. despite your body tapping out on him, satoru’s pace didn’t rest for second, but his lips curled down into a faux frown.

“ we gotta fix that stamina of yours, princess.” he pouts at your body twitching from the overstimulation and rocking under him with every push of his hips. despite his expression, he fucking adores the sight of you helped underneath him, and at his will.

his nails dig deep into the fat of your ass, before he rocks you and the headboard forward with a loud moan. satoru comes a lot. if you weren’t on the pill, it would be no doubt that you’d be pregnant with a good handful of his children by now.

“ hey, yer’ not sleep yet? guess we can do another round.”

☆ GETO SUGURU

“ s-stop! suguru, stop. it’s— ’s too much!” you’re words are punctured from your throat with deep gasps and moans. a tight pressure builds in your lower stomach with every electrifying thrust suguru gives with his fingers.

your nerves feels as if they’re on fire and your body desperately screams for a break. but his arm shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; muscles flexing, hair messily sprawled around him, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth.

“ gonna squirt f’me yet?” suguru asks, the evident of your past orgasms trickling down his forearm. every movement of his fingers feels more alive than the last, and every touch against your g-spot has your vision brightening and the coil in your stomach tightening.

his fingers curling and thrusting are the only thing that your mushed brain can comprehend. “ h-haaah, it’s dirty… m’ gonna- gonna piss!” your hips tremble, but suguru’s hand is braced firmly on your waist. his pace doesn’t relent.

his fingers easily glides in and out of your wet, gummy warmth easily. your moans and the uncontrollable actions of your legs increases; still so sensitive of the last orgasms suguru gave you and the ones to come yet.

“ we’ll take a bath and clean the bedsheets. hmm?” he sprinkles the dips of your collarbone in lighthearted kisses. that damned unhinged grin still plastered on his face. you grab desperately onto his hair, eyes fluttering back into your head and mouth hung open.

“ fuh— fuck!” your hips still along with your legs when you feel your pussy spray like an open faucet.

“ there she goes. told you, you could do it.” he eyes the beauty of your fluids going everywhere, your thighs contracting and twitching from your post-orgasm.

your slick arousal is everywhere. his arm, your legs, the bedsheets, everywhere.

he gives your wet cunt a soft spank before licking the rest coating his hand. through your weakened state, you watch him.

“ proud that you can keep up with me, baby.” he removes his now spit coated fingers with a loud wet pop sound. “ think you can still squirt on my cock?”

☆ CHOSO KAMO

“ h-haah. c-choso— baby, don’t think i can do it. ‘s too much!” you hiss out. you both fucked multiple times before, but to say you’re fully used to it, would be a stretch.

“ that’s it, baby. fuuuck, k-keep rocking your hips like that.” choso said, completely ignoring your desperate pleas to stop. his calloused hands traveled down to plant firmly on your hips, holding you in a way in which you can’t escape.

“ jus’ for you, cho.” you mutter out, before the action of you bouncing up and down on his lap increases viciously. the sinful sounds of your skin clashing down against his, all eight inches of him stirring up your insides, and both of your sweet moans combined together, sounded like a erotic song that choso would never get tired of hearing.

“ yea… that’s right,” he occupied his finger with the task of drawing tight circles on your twitching clit. he smiles in realization when you choke out a wet sob. “ just for m-me. all f’me.”

“ cho—mmph, choso!” your mouths hang ajar dumbly, nails planted firmly in his pecs; using him as the only thing holding you upright despite your weak knees. the way how your body trembled and shook, choso could tell you were close to passing out.

“ hm, that won’t do…” choso darkly mutters out before his hands resume their place on your hips. his grip boarding on painfully but your mushed brain can’t dwell on the pain. his feet planted securely on the bed, and his hips thrust up to meet your bounces.

the new depth of his dick molding your insides; kissing your cervix sweetly sent you on the brink of tears. “ ohh fuck! ‘s too much— i can’t, i can’t!” you babble out, salty tears rolling down your cheeks proving your pleading.

despite your desperate cries; you still bounce and down on his cock with his extra help. the wetness from pervious orgasms and his hips jerking up made the process easier yet still so unbearable. “ you can. like you said, it’s just for me.”

your eyes meet in deathly lock and from the way his pace increases you suspect that he’s close. “ squeezing me so tight… shit, ‘m so close, baby.” his hips growing sloppier by the minute. desperate to bring you to the high you deserve.

and with one more mouth watering thrust of his tip that he delivers against your g-spot; you come on him with a choked moan. your body goes slack against his but choso is not too far behind.

“ don’t tap out on me now— oh god.” you feel his dick twitching viscously in your warm walls. you feel a great warmth flood your insides and leak out onto your inner thighs and on his pelvis. your stuffed so silly of him.

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“ toji— m-move! jus’ came!” you gradually panted out before swatting his hand away from your lower body. you feel his dick twitch eagerly inside you.

toji fingers tighten against your throat as a warning, before he manhandles you into a mating press.

you gasp at new feeling of him entering you even deeper. “ f—fuck you! damn… tyrant!” toji leisurely grins above you. and from the new angle; the lighting traces and enchants his sharp features even more. “ you already are,” he begins to snap his lower hips against your thighs.

“ ‘nd from the way this dirty cunt is clenching on me so tightly…” he dips his head down to where his scarred lip brushes against the shell of your ear. “ you fuckin’ love it, sweetheart.” his words sends hot pangs of pleasure to your heat, mostly accompanied by the sharp thrust of his hips.

toji can feel his own dick twitch inside of you. you’re so fucking tight— milking him tight and holding him snug deep inside. the lewd sound of him slamming inside of you resonates in the room, but the fucked out dumb look on your face is obscene.

“ tuh— toooji!” is the only thing your brain can comprehend. with your mouth hung open and eyes rolled so far in the back of your head. “ yer’ close already? tsk, barely broke the bed on this good pussy.” he says, deciding to completely ignore the evidence of your past fluids mixed together on the wrinkled sheets below.

toji’s broad body envelopes your smaller one completely. the sight of your feet on either side of his shoulder is the only sign of life underneath him.

your legs twitch, your wall spasms around toji, sucking him in and in and in. his sharp eye notices the bulge of your belly and with his calloused pressing down on it, is enough to come over the edge with a shrill cry.

“ haah, you seriously came without me fucking your clit?” he barks out a cruel laugh that echoes in your ears. and you desperately want him to shut up.

through your heated gaze you notice his abs contracting and twitching— a signal that he’s coming close. as if the bruising grip on your hips didn’t serve as an reminder either. “ fuck girl… ya’ really drivin’ me crazy…”

his sweaty bangs press against your equally sweaty forehead while he forces himself deeper in your inviting heat. and before you know it, cum trickles deeply inside of your body, the creaking and his groans in your ears are loud and the only things you can focus on before he slots his body on yours with a sigh.

“ take a small break now. ‘m not lying when i say i’m gonna break the bed on this pussy.”

#𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐒 📝 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut

[dilfsfordinner]

a/n- this is so sad to think about

summary- megumi is curious about his “mom’s” current situation… ft husband!gojo x pregnant reader

—————————————————————————

“Why are you so big?”

A choked cough caught in your throat at the little boy’s comment, his big, bug-like eyes scanning your belly as you fought to hold in a laugh, arm wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer, his little form curled into your side on the couch.

“Your little brother is the reason, I’m afraid,” your voice was soft as you eyed him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before his fingers latched onto your swollen belly, tiny digits pulling at the fabric of your top to reveal the skin underneath, your stomach now completely bare before him.

Megumi looked as if your reply was the most confusing thing to ever cross his mind, his nose scrunching as he pondered the meaning of your words before his eyes locked on yours again. “But I thought babies came from birds?”

An amused sigh left your lips as you wondered who had told him such a thing, a certain white-haired man coming to mind as if in answer. “Megs, don’t listen to what that idiot has to say,” you hummed, your palm cupping his cheek before brushing his dark locks out of his face.

“And who is this idiot, I wonder?” a familiar voice spoke in your ear, a surprised yelp coming from you at Gojo’s sudden presence. Your surprise quickly turned to anger, however, as you felt a restless kick delivered to your lower abdomen, your hand flying out to slap your husband against the chest, a gasp coming from his lips in faux hurt.

“You’ll scare the baby, Satoru,” came your muttered reply, his legs quickly maneuvering over the back of the couch to land next to you, long arm shooting out to pull you and Megumi into a smushed, side hug. “I love you too,” he smiled as he left a kiss to your cheek, one hand snaking around your torso to cradle your bare belly, the other ruffling the boy’s hair while he was distracted.

“You’re the idiot!” Megumi blurted, fingers slapping Gojo’s hand away as you scoffed, a facetious ‘thanks megs’ slipping from your lips before Gojo hummed gratefully for the boy’s insight. “And why am I the subject of your bullying?” he purred into your ear, your eyes turning to look at him far more eagerly than he anticipated.

“Megumi was wondering where kids come from. You should tell him, Toru,” you said sweetly, a grin starting to pull at your lips as his own fell from his face, the tips of his ears turning red as well as a light blush creeping up his neck. You watched as he looked at the waiting Megumi, his innocent eyes staring into Gojo’s own, waiting for his answer.

A gulp came from your husband, his long fingers rubbing your belly as if for reassurance before he confidently said, “It’s just as I said, Megs, a white bird came into our room at night and gave her your soon-to-be brother. That’s all there is to it.”

Megumi maybe thought his answer to be true, or maybe he didn’t, he didn’t seem to care though, a smile pulling at his cheeks as he watched you struggle to hit Gojo over the head, frustrated huffs coming from you as Satoru himself just grinned, your shared voices eventually twining into comfortable conversation as the little boy snuggled up to your stomach, the soft words the two of you shared pushing him closer and closer to drowsiness, and ultimately, the hands of his afternoon nap.

—————————————————————————

#he would be the best dad smh #why do i want a baby so bad #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x female reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader

[forteafy]

Baby Steps | MV1

Summary: You've always been Mercedes golden girl; your life and career have been set out in stone. All it takes is for your ultimate rival to change that all.

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: Mild Smut, Childbirth, Angst, Mentions of Jos Verstappen.

26th November; the night of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix should have been the happiest of your life. 

Not many people in the world can hold their head up high and say they have won a Formula 1 world championship, let alone three. Ever since your toothy grin and shy comments when first stepping into the paddock, you had been making waves in the motorsport world. Years later, under the attentive eye of Toto Wolff and Mercedes, you had become effortlessly cool and undeniably talented; the core makings of a three-time world champion. 

The night of your first win was…you can’t even say a distant memory; the last thing you could vividly remember was linking arms with the golden boy of Mercedes, laughing merrily as you were guided down to the foyer of the extravagant hotel, the entire team with their warm comments and loving attitude ready for their new-found champion. The next day consisted of crouching over the porcelain throne, your insides rejecting any form of substance, the smell of tequila on your skin making you belch more. It was a cruel cycle, but one that every world champion had learnt. 

It also hadn’t ceased you from repeating the identical routine the next year; the feeling was so nice, you had to do it twice. Ironically, you had also worn the identical bra and panty set of the first year; not that anybody had seen it. Boys were off limits during the height of your career. This was your choice, of course. PR would have given their overpriced marketing tools to see you on the arm of a successful man, thinking of the faux love story they could spin. 

No, in order to be successful, respected; you’d sworn off any romantic relationship. You were not a figure to be held next to a man for beauty. Moreover, you were almost certain that if Toto saw a man within three feet of you, he’d frighten them off, in true fear that anybody would come near his youngest prodigy. 

The third year had been set; the routine was laid out in front of you, ready to make mistakes you’d groan and then forget about by the fourth. Instead, you found yourself crouched in the cramped cubicle of the nightclub, a hand over your mouth and nose, attempting to muffle the gulps from your lips. Your eyes had glossed over, intensely focused on the piece of plastic fisted in your palm. Two blue lines, interlapped to create a cross. A plus sign. A positive sign.

You were pregnant. 

19th October; a month prior to what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You’d been the personification of a peacock; feathers flexing as you walked through the paddock, your tenth pole position of the year resting comfortably on your shoulders. Heavy pats on your back, a cheeky wink towards the camera of Sky Sports and cheers from the crowds had guided your return to your motorhome, thanking your PR assistant as you slid into the only four walls on the track where there was a form of privacy. 

Except there wasn’t. A figure was relaxed into your sofa with a photograph in his hands, eyes trained on your body when you’d entered the room, unknowing of their presence. A grin appeared on his smug face upon seeing you practically skyrocket out of your skin, noting the other person in your sanctuary. He eventually stands up, removing his branded Red Bull cap to place on your sofa. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Max.” You scoff, snatching the polaroid out of his fingers, returning the photo to its rightful place; atop of the plush chilli Carlos Sainz had bought you for your birthday. (He’d also bought you a bullet vibrator, trying to remind you of your stubbornness, urging you to relax a little.) 

“Nice photograph.” He comments, his blue eyes flickering over to where it now stood, propped up in pride. You sat centre of the track in Abu Dhabi; two younger figures sat between your legs. They both rested a chubby hand on your World Driving Championship trophy, huge grins at the shining object. “Friends of yours?” 

“Sisters.” You mumble in return, removing the snapback from your head, balancing it on top of your shelf. The cool air finds the roots of your hair instantly, a wave of relief rolling through your entire body when your hand comes up to soothe your scalp. “Congratulations on…was it P16?” You gloat, hoping your rival would catch the message that you didn’t want him to be there. 

Max feels his lips drop and eyebrows meet at the cold reminder of his own qualification result. He knew the season was drawing to a close, quickly at that, and the constant reminder that he would be losing another championship to Mercedes golden girl was the last thing he needed. The smug grin on your lips remains, turning around to slide your arms out of your race suit, letting the top half rest on your hips, sleeves hanging loosely at your legs. 

“That’s why I came to see you.” He responds, standing up straighter, arms folded as his eyes train on your own movement. “It makes my losses look miniscule compared to your own.” His own grin has returned now, satisfied with his own response to the situation. 

You had been playing this game for months. The first year of your relationship on the grid had been friendly, the second had been hostile. The third had been downright dangerous. It began to get to a point where the grid, the press, everyone had picked up on the relationship between yourself and the Red Bull driver. 

“Hey, I’ll do anything to help you forget this will be my third World Championship.” You snap back, turning around to meet his figure, your own arms mimicking, folding against your chest. This time, you take a step closer. “Maybe next year Christian Horner will remember his ‘Precious Little Maxie.’ 

Max scoffs at the nickname you had given him, eyes noting the step you had taken. He responds, taking his own step. “Trust me. There’s nothing little about me.” His eyes meet yours when he finishes his sentence, and for the first time, Max Verstappen has left you completely and utterly speechless. Mind goes into overdrive, years of hatred are forgotten has his hands fly out, grasping each side of your face, meshing his lips to your own. 

Your first thought is to push the swine away, slap him across the face and scream for Toto Wolff to grab him by the collar. Clouded, spaced out; your mind begins to crack, your only thought is how good his lips feel against your own, how soft they feel against your cheek, how sinful they trace against your neck. 

Max’s palms had originally rested on your cheek, they had begun their trail, slithering down your sides, grip tightening as they reached your hips, forcefully pulling you towards his body, grinding his crotch against your own, the desperation of his member clearly noticeable. 

A gasp emitted from your lips, feeling his teeth begin to nip across the soft skin of your neck, desperately searching for that one spot that would make you crumble. Max’s hands make quick work, one wrapping around your waist in order to keep you secure, the other grasping you fireproofs, race suit and panties in a fluid motion, exposing the sweet centre he had been craving. Nimble fingers trail around your entrance, swiping a finger against your most sensitive bundle of nerves, rewarding him with the most sinful sound he had ever received. 

“Max-“ You gasped, mind clouded by lust, how your desire of this man had built from your core the moment you had seen him in person, years ago. “Max, please-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He mumbled, his own hand pulling down his trousers and underwear, rubbing his shaft for preparation. “Do not ruin this fucking moment.” 

In a swift motion, Max has you pinned against the wall of your driver room, the cool wall sending a shiver against your skin. You barely have time to register the coolness dancing across you before your mind is overwhelmed by the feeling of his length slipping into your wet folds, and there is truly nothing little about him in that moment, mind sent into overdrive when he brings his lips back to yours. 

19th December, twenty-three days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You had finally thrown yourself entirely into a distraction; Christmas. You’d flew back to Brackley alongside your teammate, both of you returning to the Mercedes base before retiring for the holidays. There had been no string short of invites flooding into your inbox, asking if you wanted to join them in any festivities. Anything at this point was a wanted distraction from the impending coil growing in your stomach, both figuratively and literally. 

And so, you attended a Christmas Market alongside George and Carmen, passing on the mulled wine the two had insisted on trying. You’d gone to see Jack’s Christmas performance alongside Toto and Suzie but declined going to the fish restaurant they had mentioned; (you’d read somewhere in your first week of sheer panic that you could no longer go near fish whilst pregnant.) You’d gone to Lando’s new apartment in London but had seen the scowl on his face when you’d complained about your ‘bad stomach,’ and couldn’t do any heavy lifting of decorations. 

It wasn’t until Christmas Eve; Lewis had come to your family’s home, presents for your younger siblings, parents and yourself, of course. He’d sat politely, sipped on your mother’s tea, laughed politely at the antics building up towards the big day itself. 

Spending time with somebody for three quarters of the year will teach you a lot about them; Lewis knew you like he knew each twist and turn of every track he’d raced along during the years. He knew you laughed with your whole stomach to the point where you had to grab something for support; that before every single race you would have your ‘top secret handshake’ with your race engineer, (you insisted your race would always go more smoothly if you did so, the last time you didn’t had resulted in a DNF.) 

What Lewis knew most, was you were a complete and utter sucker for anything with chocolate. He had seen you practically sob when your trainer had found protein brownies that would work in your diet. So why did you decline your mothers’ sweet desserts when offered around the lounge? Why did you seem to hold your breath when the scent of treats was wafted under your nose, almost as if you’d vomit if you came into contact with them? 

Carefully, your teammate placed his mug down on the low table, wiggling out of the space between your younger sisters; both were entranced by him. In any other situation, he would have sat there for hours, listening to their oh-so-sweet stories. Instead, he whistled for Roscoe, watching as the dog stooped up from his position by the fire, tottering over towards his owner.

“I’m going to take Roscoe out for a wee.” He nods towards your figure, slouched on the opposite sofa. “You coming?” The way he phrases his question; you can tell it’s not a question, it’s a command. You nod, placing down your own mug, stretching as you pulled yourself away from the leather recliner. 

Your sisters were now engrossed by one of the presents Lewis has insisted they had to open early. Your mother and father were running through their guest list for tomorrow; nobody seemed to notice as the two of you slipped on your outerwear, whistling for Roscoe as you stepped through the dining room and onto the porch of the family home you had gifted your parents almost 1 year ago now. 

Lewis’ eyes meet yours the moment you had closed the ornate doors. You struggle to meet his gaze; you know he has begun to put the pieces of this metaphorical puzzle together. He barely waits for the sound of the door closing before he starts to speak, the mannerisms he reserves for his teammate in instant appeal. 

“Alright. What’s happening then?” He asks almost instantly, motioning for you to walk alongside him, taking the scenic route of the large garden. “You’d never turn down sweet things. You do everything to make your mother smile, why would you turn down her cooking?”

“I’ve just gone off that kind of stuff.” You mumble, not really thinking about what you were saying. You’d later remember to be more careful with your responses. You were not expecting him to piece it together so quickly through his own train of thought. 

“Oh, my sister was like that when she was pregnant with-“ He cuts himself off, ceasing his steps when he realises what has escaped his lips. His head snaps back to look at you, and his heart melts. You, his self-assured, sweet teammate, now with tears in your eyes, a visible shake running across your body. He’s not stupid, he’s far from it. 

“You’re pregnant.” He almost whispers, seeing how the words are visibly affecting you. Lewis says nothing, instead pulling you straight into his chest, arms engulfing you as he feels your body loosen, silently shaking with held back tears of being reminded of your current situation. “But…how?” He murmurs, loud enough for you to hear. He knew of your dating rule. Even outside of the press, no man ever seemed to be enough to knock you down, let alone knock you up. 

You can’t tell him, not now. You couldn’t tell him. You had to tell him. 

“Max.” You whisper, barely able to have the name on your lips. Lewis’ brows furrow. He knows in his heart he is right, but he doesn’t want to be. 

“Fewtrell?” He responds, referencing to Lando’s oldest friend. You had been to see them recently, after all.

“Verstappen.”

Lewis’ isn’t sure what to say in that moment. Instead, he simply keeps you in his arms, in this moment at least, he can keep you warm, safe. Away from questioning eyes and the stories which will surely follow you until the end of time, until the end of your career. Instead, he asks the one question which you had been blocking out for oh-so-long, that you had been putting off since you threw yourself into these festivities. 

“What are you going to do?” 

6th January, 41 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You knew what you were going to do.

You knew from the moment you had been called into your first ultrasound scan; by this point, only a few select people knew of the situation. Lewis. Your parents. The delivery driver at Dominoes Pizza whom had given you a strange look when handing over a pizza with no cheese, but three lots of spicy peppers. 

Going to your first ultrasound alone had been terrifying; bringing somebody along would have drawn too much attention. You had played a mighty risk by going alone, hoping you wouldn’t be recognised. You didn’t want Mercedes to catch wind of the happenings, instead hoping nobody would openly tweet about your live location.

Your nurse doesn’t recognise you; if she does, she doesn’t show it. She’s polite and kind, makes sure that you haven’t used the bathroom in four hours, something to do with amniotic fluid. The cold jelly on your stomach sends an odd feeling through your body, as if cold cream was balancing on your tummy. There’s a sharp prod, a poke, and then you see the nurse smile.

“Ah, there they are!” She glows. 

And there they are. Sat there, in your stomach. A small curve, to anybody else, a completely unidentifiable shape. But to you? The most precious shape that was completely and utterly undeniably yours. How you could have thought that you could go through life without knowing them is beyond you. 

That was the moment you knew what you were going to do.

All you had to do now, was tell Toto. No big deal. 

23rd February, 89 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

“Horner!”

Toto was known to be larger than life, and his voice only proved that theory as he stormed out of his Paddock Office, completely abandoning any information being presented about Pre-Testing in Bahrain. Instead, he’s seeing red, he’s seeing that Horner’s complete and utter dickhead of a driver has knocked up his winner. His current champion. (With no disrespect to Lewis, of course.)

Your teammate had been there, holding your hand when you had broken the news to Toto, your race engineer and your trainer. Your PR assistant was aware of the situation, currently attempting to make a game plan of how to handle the situation. She was adamant you needed to remain in the paddock; you ­still needed to be a part of the sporting world, even if you weren’t driving. 

At first, Toto thought it was Lewis’ baby, ready to bang both of their heads together and reprimand them for not being careful. When it had slipped whose child it was, (Toto was well aware of your rule too, he was just as confused as Lewis had been when he’d first found out.) Toto didn’t care about anything. More importantly, he didn’t care that your pregnancy wasn’t public knowledge. 

Toto had stormed into Red Bull’s garage, much to the widened eyes of Christian Horner. Despite being shorter, he instantly holds himself against the Austrian, arms folded, a smirk on his face at the entrance of the unwanted guests. 

“How can I help you, Toto?” He smirks, ready for some remark. Instead, Toto leans to Christian’s ear, murmuring something unhearing to the rest of the garage. You can take a guess to what is said however, judging by how pale the Red Bull’s Team Principle had gone. In one swift move, he motions for Toto and yourself to follow him, calling out to his own team. 

“Send Max to my office. Now.” His voice is unrevealing, but his skin is growing paler by the minute. 

You had never been into a Red Bull garage, and yet now you sat in Horner’s own office, amazed by the fact their colour schemes and trophies could be carried around the world. Mercedes kept theirs at home, sometimes plain and simple was the way to go. You began to wonder if you should bring your trophies to your next races, maybe it would give the team a reminder of what can be achieved. 

“Sit.” Horner motions to the couch in the office. You take a seat almost instantly, overwhelmed by the entire situation. Lewis places himself next to you, an arm around your back protectively. Toto refuses to take a command, instead remaining standing, arms folded, a glare of hatred towards Christian. 

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me.” The Red Bull team principal scoffs. “I didn’t tell Max to sleep with your little prodigy.” He may not be showing it, but Christian himself was downright livid with his driver. Max needed to focus; the team needed to focus on gaining back a world championship. Max was scarily focused, but when it came to the women in his life; his mother, his sister, his new little girlfriend Christian had seen in the paddock earlier that day, he would change, they became his focus. 

“You need to keep that boy away from my team!” Toto retaliates. He could have gone deeper, he was all but ready to drag Max into the middle of the track and hold him there, letting Lewis drive into him at full force. Before any more threats could be thrown across the office, a door opens, the present grin on Max Verstappen’s face wiped instantly upon seeing Toto, Lewis and yourself. 

“Max.” Christian starts, arms folded, the voice he used to reprimand his children now present. He can’t continue his phrasing however, before Toto scoffs, pointing an accusing finger towards the driver. 

“You!” He roars, instantly forgetting the plead you had given him half an hour before, longing to keep this news as quiet as you could for as long as possible. “You couldn’t keep away; you have ruined my team! How dare you knock her up!” Toto is only stopped when you jump up from your seat, grabbing both of his arms in an attempt to stop his frantic ranting. 

It takes Max a moment to process what has been said, he’s always struggled with quick responding when it’s not on a racetrack. It hits him all at once. Your pregnant. You’d slept together a month ago. Without protection, purely in the heat of the moment. Max Verstappen was going to be a father alongside his arch-rival. 

“You’re pregnant?” Max can’t help his questioning, catching your eyes for the first time since entering the room. You can only offer him a nod, unable to form words in that current moment. “And…it’s mine? Are you sure?”

Your blood ran cold, you finally understood the rage that your Team Principle. You turn around, eyes darkened, shaking your head in pure anger. “Who else have I slept with, Max? You want to tell me that?” The audacity of this man. How dare he question you. 

“You’re not keeping it, right?” Christian is the first to question. Max’s eyes gloss over, coughing lightly before overtaking the conversation from his own Team Principle. “I’m- I’m not ready to be a father.” His own skin mimics that of Christian; he turns as pale as the white lines of a hard tyre. 

“You’re not-“ You cut yourself off, instead opting to keep silent. You had nothing else to say. Max had made his stance on the situation ­clear. “I don’t need you, Max. I can do this myself.” The entire room watches as you pull away from Lewis and Toto, never once looking at the father of your child. 

10st March, 105 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

The Monaco Grand Prix was usually the highlight of your year; champagne podiums, speed boats and the comfort of sleeping in your own bed. However, this time you were not watching it from the screen of your car, nor the comfort of the paddock. You’d opted to remain at your apartment. For a start, the headlines which had been spiralling across the media were growing overwhelming. ‘Mercedes driver pulled out of racing until further notice.’ ‘Max Verstappen breaks up with new girlfriend after only weeks together.’ ‘Valtteri Bottas to pose for nude charity calendar.’

Maybe that last one wasn’t to do with your situation; you were all too aware of how your grid buddy could act in his down time. 

Your second worry was the fact that your bump was beginning to grow adamant. It had only been around three months, yet the bump seemed almost ballooning. Every piece of clothing you tried on made you feel like it was more and more obvious. You didn’t want anybody seeing what was happening to your body. Besides, it wasn’t like the pregnancy was an ­entire secret anymore.

You hadn’t heard from Max since that day in the office. Toto had found you crying an hour later, coaxing you to stop for your own health and the sake of the baby. For the first part of the racing season, your unfilled seat had been passed to George Russell. You’d smiled at each interviewer, telling the world you had an injury which made driving next to impossible at the present time. For each Grand Prix, you’d stayed sat next to Toto, cheering on the silver arrows. Maybe you hadn’t seen Max because you barely set foot outside of the garage. 

The news had slowly begun to spread from driver to driver, though each remained loyal and hadn’t told the press of your true reasoning for stepping away. Charles had been around in an instant, helping you to talk through what had been happening. He was your neighbour, after all, he liked to check in when he could. You’d had a visit from Daniel, telling you his best friend was a…well, how he put it, ‘a grade-a cunt,’ for how he had reacted. 

There was only one person, however, whom you had wanted to speak to. Sebastian had been a close friend, almost a mentor, during your first batch of Formula 1 seasons. He was also a father himself, maybe he would be able to explain to you Max’s stance on the whole thing. 

You knew he was visiting Monaco that weekend for the Grand Prix. When your phone buzzed from your living room, you’d assumed it was him asking for you to come and let you into the complex. What you were not expecting, was the text on your phone from none other than the father of your child. 

14:05: Max Verstappen

I don’t know if you have me blocked, I’m hoping you do not. I want to apologise for my reaction. It was a lot. I want to be there, for you and our child. 

14:09: You

I appreciate the message. Thank you. My next scan is on Tuesday, after Monaco. 

14:11: Max Verstappen

I’d like to be there. Could you send me the details, please?

14th March, 109 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Max Verstappen was not a practical man. 

Despite telling him you would meet him at the address you had sent him, he’d shown up to your apartment just before you were set to leave. Standing in the lobby of your apartment complex, a large bouquet of flowers resting in his arms. You could have sworn you’d never seen Max outside of jeans and a Red Bull polo shirt; it was refreshing to see him in crisp shirt and cargo trousers. 

“You didn’t have to dress up.” You mumble, looking down to your own outfit; a soft summer dress seemed positively ordinary; hair loose around your shoulders. It was just a scan, after all. It wasn’t as if the two of you would be going on a date; you hated the man stood in front of you. However, a smile is soon nestled on your face when the man offers you the bundle of flowers, offering a warm grin alongside them. 

“You look nice.” Max nods, motioning towards the exit of the complex. His car was parked directly outside, as in order to avoid the press whom would undoubtedly be looking for the drivers in Monaco. The flowers decorated your arms, carefully resting them on your lap before adjusting your seatbelt. “Do you need anything?” He looks back to the complex, concerned if you had forgotten something.

“I just need the bathroom.” You mention half-heartedly. Max’s eyes widen, ready to step out of the car and lead you back into the apartment. “Oh-“ You cut yourself off, having to explain the situation. “No, I need a full bladder for the scan, so they can see the baby.” The man nods in understanding, sitting himself in the driver’s seat, looking both ways before beginning to start the route towards clinic. 

The car ride between the two of you was unusually peaceful; Max made light conversation, filling you in on the antics of the paddock from that weekend. You can’t hold back the laugh from your lips when he mentions Christian Horner slipping off his high seat when excitedly jumping to his feet. You missed the paddock; you missed the feeling of racing; you especially missed the banter between your friends. You’d have to return, sooner rather than later.

When the two of you pulled into the car park, Max was quick to step out of his seat, opening the car door for you. You offer him a quiet thanks before making your way into the building, side by side. The nurse you had previously seen gives you a smile, delighted to finally see the father of the baby alongside you. 

Max had silently followed you into the room; it wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak, quite the opposite. The man was taking in every piece of information that was being given, silent notes in his mind on each aspect. He’d keep the baby safe; he’d keep you safe, too. Ever now the gentlemen, he helps you to lie down on the seat, your bumped stomach revealed through lifting the skirt of your summer dress. 

He can’t help but notice the soft underwear decorating your lower half. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you naked, after all. That’s how you had got here in the first place. His thoughts are soon side-tracked when seeing you wince from the coldness of the jelly and the cramp of the scanning machine. Max’s hand trails, feeling your own resting aside your body. He can’t help but hold onto it, trying to offer you some sort of comfort. Maybe it’s the sudden nerves, but your hand grabs back just as tightly, feeling his thumb rub carefully against your knuckles. 

“You okay?” He mumbles, trying to keep a low profile from the nurse. You can only nod, comforted in the way your…rival…was now holding your hand so preciously. 

“Now…” The nurse begins. “I wanted to check with you both, you mentioned wanting to find out the gender of your child.” Her question is directed towards you, Max’s eyes darting between the two women in the room. “Of course, if dad doesn’t want to know, he can leave-“

“Oh, no.” Max interrupts, mind racing at a thousand thoughts per minute. “I’d…I want to know too.” He agrees, nodding in synch with you. 

“Well, congratulations. You’re having a beautiful baby girl.” The nurse confirms, turning around the screen to you both. The undefinable shape you had seen mere weeks ago had developed, becoming a more shaped being. You could see the baby forming, eyes widening in shock. Your eyes glanced over to Max, his grip tightening on your palm. 

You didn’t miss the glossed tears in his eyes. He knew in that very moment that this baby, this moment was…everything to him. 

2nd May, 158 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Overnight, Max Verstappen had truly wiggled his way into your inner circle. The two of you had barely said ten civilised words to one another since meeting all those years ago. Now? There was a string of texts almost every morning, asking how you were feeling, to let him know if you needed anything. You had truly begun to push the limits of his patience. The man had showed up your doorstep one morning with a bag of cinnamon pretzels after hearing your cries down the telephone line. 

Right now, the two of you were basking in the bliss of your little bundle of joy; there were still a lot of heavy conversations to come, but the first wave of nerves had passed, you were now simply excited to meet the little being growing in your stomach. 

The two of you had developed a successful co-parenting system to work your way through the pregnancy; Max had engrossed himself in endless copies of baby books. Daniel had found him one afternoon in his driving room, highlighting a textbook on what the main causes of a baby crying could be. He’d started to keep a calendar of every appointment that he’d attend alongside you, notes on the dates that you’re feeling a particular sickness or swelling. If you won’t bring it up with a doctor, he would. 

Max tries to convince himself it’s to keep his baby safe; of course, you need to remain healthy too, but he doesn’t care about you, not in that sense. 

It isn’t until he receives a phone call from you one afternoon, pleading for him to come and collect you from a friend’s house; your car had broken down and your Uber application wouldn’t seem to find you a driver that wasn’t half an hour away. Max had shown up at the doorstep ten minutes later, knocking on the door to signal your arrival. When there was no answer, he took his own incitive to investigate the back garden, hearing the light sound of music, chattering adults and giggling children. 

The garden is in full swing; you hadn’t mentioned it was a party; an extravagant one at that. He’s taken aback by the decorations, a giant bounce house and the most enormous birthday cake he had ever seen. 

His heart almost stops when he sees you.

You, hair framing your face beautifully, a pale pink dress hugging you in the most delicious way. Your attention is focused to the toddler on your hip, your godson. How on earth could you think you were not ready for this? You pulled faces at the young being his giggles screaming through the air. Max had always thought you were pretty, but now he could only see you as a goddess.

He’s convinced himself, after all. He doesn’t care for you. He worships you. 

9th June, 196 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

“I think we should move in together.” 

Max’s attention is drawn up from his phone. Christian and himself had been texting backwards and forwards for the past few days; the driver was trying to rework his schedule so he could at least be with you for a week after the birth. It was getting closer; the world now knew of your pregnancy, the media torn between harsh critics and positive glows. 

What they didn’t know was the father of the child was your sworn enemy. 

Maybe, enemy was a word you didn’t wish to use anymore. A friend didn’t seem right, either. A mix of late-night conversations, spooning ice cream to one another whilst binging a new Netflix series and picking out a bundle of pink pyjamas had drawn the two of you into an undefinable relationship. 

“You know…” You continue. “I want…her to have both her parents about. I don’t want her to grow up in a broken household.” It was true; you’d seen how it could affect people, especially the man who was sat by your side. He understood, completely and utterly. After what he had been through, he wouldn’t wish that on anybody, least of all his own flesh and blood. His own baby. 

“I missed my mother…a lot when I was younger.” He referenced his parents’ separation, how he had barely seen his mother and sister whilst growing up. “I wouldn’t want that for her.” Max rests a hand on your stomach, a soft smile on his face when he looks at you. Even with no makeup, a hoodie which was way too big for you, you were still positively glowing. “Why don’t we have a look tomorrow? Find somewhere around here with enough space for us all.” 

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine, but you’re painting the nursery.” You mumble in response. A small laugh emits from both of your lips. However, yours is soon replaced with a sharp wince, a rumble in your stomach. Max, whom still had a hand resting on the bump immediately stops laughing, both of your eye’s meeting in shock.

“Was that-” He cuts himself off when he feels the movement again. It’s a kick. The baby is kicking. 

“She’s awake!” You laugh, placing your hand carefully across Max’s. You gently guide it across your stomach, tracing the sharp movement in your stomach. “We must have woken her up. Sorry sweet pea.” You direct the last part of your sentence to the baby in your stomach. 

Max gently removes his hand from your stomach, his head tiling closer to your bump. The baby can hear him. She’s in there, nestled and warm, awaiting her welcome into the world. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He mumbles, voice thick from holding back heavy tears. “It’s your Papa.”

He doesn’t miss the small laugh from you, entirely entertained by this whole situation.

“I know I can’t see you yet, but you’re the most beautiful girl I could ever ask for. Just like your mother.” He finishes, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. Softly, he lifts himself up, pressing a kiss to your temple, heads resting gently against one another as the next episode of your series began to play. 

29th June, 216 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Spa-Francorchamps was the last race on the calendar before the summer break. It was also the last time you would be able to be in the paddock without a baby strapped to your side.

It had been magical, when walking into the Mercedes garage. Cheers had erupted upon seeing their golden girl return to the paddock. Lewis had barely been able to contain himself, pulling you into the tightest hug which could be imagined. Toto had almost started crying, kissing the top of your head and resting a hand on your stomach, declaring the baby as his unborn prodigy. 

There had been no end of drivers coming to meet you, too. Charles and Carlos had declared how much they had missed having you around, presenting you with a baby blanket and beanie. Your heart had ­melted when they explained their mothers had taught them how to knit, both wanting to make a present for you, stitched with love. You’d almost started crying, hormones were in full swing in the third trimester, kissing both on the cheek and thanking them endlessly. 

Yuki had walked up to you that afternoon too, presenting a small Tupperware box. He had noticed you’d completely rejected fish, and most of all sushi, so instead had made you a batch which was pregnancy safe. The two of you had tried a piece there and then, declaring it as quite possibly the best thing your tastebuds had found since pregnancy had altered your tastebuds. 

Daniel had come to find you, telling you to meet him in his garage, that he had a surprise for you both. Both, meaning you’d probably have to find Max, too. 

His garage was only a short walk from where you’d been set up in the Mercedes camp. You’d began to make your way over there, hoping you’d bump into the father of your child on the way. You’d last seen Max that morning, having driven you to the paddock himself. He’d become…fiercely caring since the evening of feeling the baby kick. He’d slept in your bed that night, you are resting against his chest, a form of comfort in the third trimester. 

What you hadn’t expected to see, as you turned the corner, was a beautiful girl, hands resting on Max’s waist, her eyes sparkling, lips moving. You couldn’t see Max’s face, his cap hiding any expression, but your heart knew that he’d be smirking, basking in the attention.

Loving the attention of a beautiful girl, one that wasn’t pregnant with his child.

You couldn’t…understand why you had suddenly cared so much about who he was interacting with. When you’d first started this whole…adventure, he’d still been seen in clubs, leaving with different women on his arm every weekend. You’d hit the second trimester; his party and escapades had stopped, his sole attention of women being on you.

Maybe that was it. You’d grown to like the attention of Max. Whether it was as the father of your child or…something else. 

Your hormones were truly beginning to overtake you, feeling tears trickling out of your water line. You had to look away at that moment, you couldn’t keep looking at the events unfolding in front of you. Your mind traces back to that morning in Christian Horner’s office, how Max had turned pale, not wanting to be burdened with the birth of his child. 

‘I’m- I’m not ready to be a father.’

Maybe he wasn’t. But you were ready to be a mother. 

8th August, 255 days since what should have been the- 

You couldn’t handle this.

The pain was beginning to seethe through your stomach. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was all wrong, it was happening too quickly. 

Since the incident at the paddock, you’d been radio silent towards Max. He wasn’t too sure of ­how it had come to be. All he had known was you’d taken yourself home from Spa, telling him that you’d needed to fly home to be with your parents before the birth.

 One day without a phone call was okay, he suspected it would be due to the time zones. Two was…a little odd. After three, he was frantically packing a suitcase, trying to get hold of anybody who would possibly know your parents’ address. He’d resulted to finding your teammates phone number. After he was met with a string of questions, asking how on earth he had gotten hold of his phone number. When Max had explained you had gone off the grid, Lewis had simply scoffed.

Of course, Lewis had known what had happened. He’d seen you return to grab your bag, eyes glassy as you offered the team a quick goodbye, promising to bring the baby to meet them all as soon as possible. 

The driver had been the one to guide you back through the paddock. Despite not racing together for almost six months, he still had your mannerisms sketched into his mind. Eventually, you’d confided in your closest friend, letting the tears fall freely as he guided you back to your Uber, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a silent promise that he would be there if you needed anything, if there were any more thoughts or issues.

He had no issue telling Max his thoughts over the telephone. Despite Max’s answers, there was no excuse. ‘You were hormonal. How did he think you felt when seeing Max with another woman, even if it was innocent, she didn’t seem to be in that stance.’ 

That was the case. It was an ex-girlfriend, she’d been in the paddock that afternoon, seeking out the world champion in an advancement to get them back together. Max had no intention of going there, not when he was during finding something, some gesture to show you of his advancing feelings over the past few months. That was why he had asked Daniel to get you to his garage. He would be able to surprise you, tell you how he was really feeling, how he loved you, and not just for being the mother of his child.

After copious amounts of pleading, Lewis had eventually sent over the address, giving Max a dire warning as to if he upset you again. 

The flight to your home had been fast. He couldn’t thank his assistant enough, getting a hire car set for the moment he stepped out of the airport. However, turning up at your home to find your father, arms folded, and eyebrows raised at Max’s sudden appearance. Your father barely said two words, just told Max you had gone into labour.

Max’s blood had run cold upon that realisation. He wasn’t there; he wasn’t there to hold your hand when the pain started, to hold your hair up and get some coolness to your overheating skin. He wasn’t ­there. Not for his little girl, and not for her mother. Being a Formula One driver in that evening was the most helpful thing in his opinion, arriving at the hospital in record time. 

Car thrown carelessly into a parking spot, he’d sprinted into the reception, a nurse resting a hand on his arm when seeing the pure shock registered on his face. He couldn’t get any words out properly, simply repeating your name, that he was the father of your child. He wanted to see you, he wanted to see his baby. 

The nurse nodded, motioning for Max to follow him down a corridor. He didn’t like the coldness of the building. You probably felt so alone. Every time he had come with you to a clinic appointment, he’d notice the change in your demeanour, how you felt uncomfortable. You should have opted for a home birth; you would have been calmer. Safer. 

Max eventually reached your hospital room, heart breaking at the sounds from the other side of the door. You were in pain. That much was obvious as he opened the door. Your mother wasn’t present. He knew your stubbornness, knowing that you would have wanted to do this without her. Maybe, you’d want to do this without him, too. 

His train of thought was interrupted, hearing a voice he had missed oh-so-much for the past three days. 

“Max.” You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks. The gas wasn’t working, the epidural hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to feel ever piece of this. 

The man sprang into action; in an instant, his jacket was removed, revealing his soft t-shirt and trackpants. A seat was pulled up to the head of your bed, Max sitting himself down, one hand running across the top of your head, the other arm resting by your hands, letting you grip into him as deeply as you needed to. 

“Shh. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” He mumbles. Soft words of Dutch come from his lips; you’re too far gone to understand his words in English, let alone his native language. 

“You- why did you come?” You sob, feeling another contraction wash over your stomach. You can’t help but sob out, overwhelmed by the physical pain of the baby, the emotional pain of Max after seeing him in the paddock with that girl. 

“I couldn’t leave the love of my life to meet our baby girl alone, could I?” He responds, leaning upwards to press a soft kiss to your cheek. He can taste the salt from your tears. He swore there and then, you’d never cry again. Not if he was around. You’d stay with him in the paddock, you and his baby girl. He’d make you laugh at every available opportunity. He’d shower you both in gifts; he’d give his girls everything they’d desire. If one day you decided to return to racing, he’d retire there and then to let you peruse his dream. 

“Okay, okay. We need to push.” The midwife insists, seeing the pain flush over your cheeks. Max is ­there, clasping your hands, running a palm across your cheek, promising that oh-so-soon, your baby girl would be here, she would be in your arms, you would be complete.

There’s a sharp scream from you, and then the tiniest cries from the end of the bed. 

She was here. Bloody, high pitch screams fill the room as the baby is placed onto your chest.

A wave of relief flushes over you, lying back into the cushions, sobbing in hysteria; your baby girl had been welcomed into the world. Max this time, can’t hold back his own tears, aiding the midwife in cutting the chord, eyes in awe as he watched the midwife gently rub a cloth against her soft skin. 

“She’s here.” You whisper, the midwife aiding you in wrapping your daughter in a pink blanket, her wails cooling down, eyes blinking up to her mother. The blue eyes, identical to those of her father. 

Her father in question had sat back in his chair, eyes transfixed on the bundle in your arms. What he isn’t expecting is for you to motion your own arms towards him, letting the man cradle his daughter. It’s so…natural. Your heart fills with adoration; how you could ever believe you hated this man was beyond you.

Eventually, the baby is placed into the cradle, deep in slumber. Max hasn’t moved from your side, one arm around your back, both of you transfixed onto the peacefully sleeping child. 

“She’s here.” Max repeats for the hundredth time, eyes still focused on the sweet girl. His head turns to you, there’s no better time to say it. “I’m sorry. For not telling you sooner. For not telling you how much I care about you.” He murmurs, hand finding yours, clasping them together. 

“Yeah?” You tease, running your free hand through his soft hair, feeling his head press into your touch. His touch subsides, leaning in ever so gently, pressing his lips to your own. It’s soft, it’s unexpected, but it feels so, so right. It’s only interrupted with the soft cries from your baby once again. 

“Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?” Max laughs, his moment being disrupted by the baby. You can only laugh as he stands up, scooping up the baby into his gentle grasp. 

9th August, 1:06am. This was the happiest day of your life. 

#F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Max Verstappen #MV1 #MV33 #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Reader Insert #Reader x Max #Formula 1 Imagine #F1 Imagine #Red Bull #Ferrari #Mercedes #Aston Martin #Fantiction #Max Verstappen x You #F1 x Y/N #F1 Fandom #Max Verstappen Fluff #Max Verstappen Smut #Charles Leclerc #Daniel Ricciardo #Lewis Hamilton #Toto Wolff

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 

"In that case, I'm staying right here." 

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 

"Nowhere. I'm here." 

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine. I love you." 

"I love you," you say. 

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 

"What are you–" 

"I'm gonna take a test." 

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!emperor with empress!reader scenario

warnings: infidelity, obsessive behavior, blackmail, non-con, regicide.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome to my first yandere fic! Before we dive in, I want to let you know a couple of things; firstly, this is not the prologue of a series and never will be one because I simply do not have the time right now. It is a scenario, a prompt, that was inspired by the Fallen Kingdom series created by @cassanderasblog. I will leave a link to their work here. I credit them for giving me inspiration and being honest in their feedback when I showed them the initial draft. Credit also goes to @faux-ecrivain for helping finish a difficult scene.

Finally, please do not comment on here if you wish to harass me in some shape or form. I do and will not tolerate bullying. As the saying goes, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all." If it does happen, however, I will have no choice but to remove this scenario as soon as possible.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy :)

Yandere!Emperor had despised you with his heart and soul. The only reason he had allowed the marriage to even happen was to solidify the alliance between his nation and yours. He did not love you. The woman who held his heart, the one whom he trusted above everyone else in the world is Tatiana Adreeva. His mistress. A beautiful flower that should never be polluted by the nobles who dare to not allow her to become the Empress simply because she lacked the status equal to his own prior to ascension. You did. 

Yandere!Emperor did not lay a hand on you after the vows had been exchanged in the temple. He did not seek out your company, preferring to seek comfort in Tati’s bed and her arms. He had his crown, his woman, and allocated more power through his marriage with you. It was nothing personal. He simply did what he had to do so that his Empire would continue to prosper. 

Yandere!Emperor would not tolerate any rudeness targeted toward his lover, even if you had not uttered a single word to her at all or raised your hand against her.

 To him, ignoring her when she greeted you was enough to earn a lengthy lecture from him. 

But you did not cling to him or beg for mercy, as he thought you would do, or any other self-respecting maiden who did not want to anger her husband. You coldly stared at him with that, silent as the grave until he dismissed you from his office. Out of spite, he had his aide add more documents to your desk for the next month even when the work was not part of the Empress’ official duties. 

To his joy, Tatiana became pregnant with his child, his heir. Being by her side was suddenly all that mattered to Yandere!Emperor. His overprotective streak and ill temperament increased over time. He would lash out at you for the smallest of incidents, even if it was not your fault. And like before, you did not react to his words and continued with your life. 

Like what happens to him or with his mistress is none of your concern unless it is associated with the Empire and the citizens. As it should be. He did not marry you out of love. 

When the child was born, a healthy baby boy christened Nikolov, Yandere!Emperor held a banquet and invited ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms to celebrate. But it was on this day….that he knew the truth. 

Once he had made the necessary greetings and made sure the captain of the guards would immediately report anything suspicious or if Tati and Nikolov were in any danger, Yandere!Emperor retreated to his office. He looked over the stack of documents on his desk, trying to lessen his workload in the morning so that he could spend time with his Tati and his son.

Upon hearing a knock at the door, he did not look up from the outline of a treaty as he allowed the third person to enter his office without cutting off their fingers. His mistress, the head butler, and his advisor. Tati’s older brother, Marquis Aizel Adreeva. Yandere!Emperor had bought the highest status that he could give to his mistress’ family after receiving positive confirmation that Tati was truly pregnant and not a misdiagnosis.

Aizel smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot as he set down a tray, placing two silver goblets and a bottle of wine on the corner of his desk. He spoke softly, congratulating Yandere!Emperor on finally having an heir and making his sister the happiest woman in the world. He poured the wine into the goblets. He held one in his hand, and extended his other hand to the Glorious Son, Blessed by the Five Gods.

Yandere!Emperor smiled, taking the offered drink. They raised their goblets high in the air, and drank. Yet when Yandere!Emperor looked at Aizel…his merry smile was not right. Not the kind of joy that a new uncle would express at a nationwide celebration. It was tighter, almost anticipating something…to happen.

That was when he realized the wine tasted bitter. That was when the room began to spin, and it felt like his skull being split in half. Poison. He had been betrayed. Yandere!Emperor grunted, trying to steady himself against the desk when Aizel walked around the wooden structure and had the audacity to push him back into the leather chair.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emperor.” Aizel chastised, his amber orbs glowing with delight. “Not going to lie, I did not think the wine would accelerate the poison as quickly I had thought, but that works for me!”

Yandere!Emperor felt a rock plummet into the pit of his stomach at Aizel’s words. “You…did this?” He gurgled. “I thought…the Empress -”

“And deny me the opportunity to see the look on your face, choking on your blood? Absolutely not. Dear, sweet [First Name] would never have done this to you. You might not have loved her, but she did respect you.” Aizel shrugged. "If Tati were in her shoes, I reckon things would not have gone as smoothly as they have." He said casually, as if he were talking about the weather and not informally speaking to the most powerful man in the Empire. 

“I only have ten minutes before I must return to the party, so I will do the honor of answering your unspoken questions. Now, where should I start? Oh, right. Why? Why did I do this when I love you like a brother? When have you treated my sister and I with nothing but kindness and respect, providing support whenever we are troubled, mentally, physically, and finanically? Well, the answer is really, really simple: I don’t. I tolerated you. I respected you. But never once did I feel any affection towards you.” His smile widened. “The one who deserves to stand by Tati's side is the Rapid Dog of The Northern Border, my brother-in-arms. Remember him? He was engaged to Tati. The man she should have married, should have been the father of my nephew. But you had the engagement annulled because she had said a few nice words to you. You threatened to seize my family’s home unless she came to the palace as your mistress? Do you remember? Why do I even bother asking? You’re going to die anyway, and we will finally be free from this gilded cage. Seven years. Seven long, agonizing years of watching my sister playing the gentle, loving role of a besotted mistress when all she really wanted to do was slit your throat. I thought about that every day too, you know? Well, almost. I actually felt sorry for the Empress, you know. She didn’t deserve to have a husband who neglected his duties and blamed everything on the one person who kept the gears in this Empire going, until now.”

“E-Empress -”

“Had an assassin give her a clean, painless death. Made it look like an accident, and he delivered! That’s very impressive for an underground guild, you know. Investment was worth it.” Aizel giggled.

“Now, it’s time to let everyone know their beloved Emperor has retired for the evening and call it a night. Big changes are coming. Pity you won’t see it. Don’t worry though, I won’t kill Nikki. I do love him…and he will never know that his true father is a tyrannical piece of shit who died in his own pool of blood because he allowed love to muddle his mind when he should have put the country’s well being above all else. Farewell, Emperor Aleksander of the Moldova Empire. From the ashes of corruption, a new country shall be born. And my nephew will rule over it in his father’s stead once he is ready. The father he should have had and not the one who brought him into this world, Duke Matthias Starkov.” 

When he awakened, Yandere!Emperor realized he was no longer on the floor. He could breathe and he could see in the mirror that hung across the room that he looked younger again. He asked, no, demanded, a quivering servant  to tell him what the year and date were, now. It was The Year of the Moon, ----.  As the crown prince of the Moldova Empire, it is his duty to select a candidate to become his crown princess, his future Empress who would rule beside him when he ascended as the Emperor. His father, the current Emperor, is growing impatient with his sixteen-year-old son and annoyed that he is still fawning over the marquis’ daughter, Tatiana Adreeva, a woman who was already engaged to a duke. 

“Bring me the list, no, tell Josef to bring it to my office immediately. I will be there shortly.” Yandere!Emperor had never pushed the servants to dress him quickly as he did at this moment. He did not know how or why, but he had returned to the past, right when he had seen Tatiana for the first time. Seven years into the past, before Aizel had poisoned him and killed his Empress. 

Sure enough, he saw his Empress’ name on the list, five down from the most qualified and right in the middle of the lengthy parchment.  [First Name] [Last Name], born to the Republic of Greiran, the Prime Minister’s only daughter.

They are Moldova’s closest neighbor and primary source of spices and various crops that are able to thrive in the harshest of weather conditions. Rumor had it that the Prime Minister himself was the one who had collaborated with the magician’s tower on this project, saving thousands of lives from suffering another winter and no harvest after the king had collapsed from a broken heart, having lost his queen after she had given birth to the crown prince.

 That connection to the magician’s tower was the only reason Yandere!Emperor had married his Empress. Access to more magical resources than the ones in the Moldova Empire, enabling the creation of magical weapons and protecting the borders around enemy nations. And yet he still died like a damned dog, blind to the respect and admiration his Empress held for him in favor of  receiving love from his murderer. But not this time. This time….he will set things right. 

He will not get involved with Tatiana Adreeva. 

He will ascend to the throne as he is supposed to.

He will be devoted only to [First Name], never taking a mistress even if the aristocracy begged him. Even if their marriage is only on paper, and she never looks at him as a man and only as an Emperor. 

He will learn everything there is to know about his future Empress, and he will never let her go. 

Taglist

@impeakcharacterdesign

@ceeesxy-blog

@mitra555

@mooly-artistic

@lxdymoon0357

@xiaopleasecomehome

@lovely-nightmares

@aurora-rose-miller

@swallowtailcherry

@justcressida

@faux-ecrivain

@yandere-dark-cupid

@likesugarandcyanide

@angelltheninth

@kanroji-san

@suiana

@swallowtailcherry

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2023

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere!emperor #do not repost #yandere oc #ns.fw #cw obsession #tw obsession #tw yandere #tw dubious consent #cw dubious consent #tw murder #cw murder

[simonrillleyyysss]

breedingkink! simon who just wants to get his pretty little wife pregnant no matter what??💕💕

ugghhhhhh i love u anon

simon wouldn’t consider himself a very family oriented guy, sure.

but the thought of putting a baby in you was exhilarating, the amount of control he had just by fucking his cum into your womb.

‘that’s it..’

his gruff voice grumbled into the skin your neck, letting out shirt huffs of air; your legs dangling over his shoulders as you babbled beneath him, his length rutting into you in desperation.

‘ohhh-oh! siii…mhh!’

‘’need,’

a rough thrust.

‘this.. dontcha’?’

with a nod of your head, your hands moved to cling to the back of his neck, feeling his hand move up to grope at your breast, taking the plush bud of your nipple into his mouth, tongue flickering over the nerves as you mewled out, thighs wrapping around his waist as he pounded into you, heavy slaps of his balls hitting against the plush of your ass echoing throughout the room, your mouth agape as you pleaded, reaching out to try and kiss him.

‘plleeaaaa—mhhnggh! si—mmph!’

with a harsh slap to your cheek, he pushed your head away, thumb sliding into your mouth—watching you suckle on it, lifting his mouth from your breasts before spitting on your cunny with a low growl.

‘be a good mummy, wouldn’t y’?’

he hummed, watching your eyes flutter back; hands gripping his forearms in an attempt to slow him down, blubbering.

‘too muchhhh… si—siii!’

he knitted his brows his faux sympathy, looking down at you.

‘too much? it’s ok, baby..you can take it.’

Simon insisted, speeding up as he slammed his cock into your fluttering hole, moaning pornographically; body falling limp.

‘gonna fill y’up nice and full, carryin’ my babies.. yeah? make your tummy nice n’ big..’

you whispered mindlessly under your breath, unaware of what you were even begging for anymore.

‘tits all’nice n’heavy for my babies..jesus…’

Simon purred, mouth falling down to lick a ring around your nipple, whining as you arched your back.

‘stuff you full of my cum…nice and warm, fuck—don’t waste any-yeah? promise?’

‘promise!’

you squeaked out, feeling his hips still inside you with a groan, pulling out after a moment or two— stuffing a finger inside your leaning hole, kissing your tummy.

-

‘gonna make my pretty lil’ wife a pretty lil’ mummy.’

#ghost x reader #spotify #ghost smut #dilf ghost #ghost imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost is babygirl #simon ghost riley x reader #ghosts smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley ghost

[wttcsms]

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 2k synopsis as a last resort, ghost finds himself letting soap stay with him in your shared home. soap is understandably confused as to why there’s a pregnant young woman already occupying this supposed safehouse.  content contains completely sfw, fluff, domestic fluff, soft!ghost, ghost is absolutely whipped for you & is not ashamed of it, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, marital bliss, protective!ghost, soap & ghost bromance notes takes place in the same timeline/au as this fic! 

“We’re fucked if we can’t find shelter anywhere,” MacTavish, ever the optimist, readjusts the rucksack on his back before looking at the other operative with him.

He’s not surprised to find his partner’s expression entirely unreadable due to the mask obscuring the entirety of his face, save for a pair of eerily perceptive eyes.

“We can try to contact Price, see if he knows about any safehouses nearb—“

“Won’t be necessary.” Ghost cuts him off, sounding a bit irritated. “I know a place nearby.”

“How do you seem to always know where every single fuckin’ safehouse is?” Soap finds himself grumbling, but noticing that Ghost is already moving ahead, he shouts out a quick hey! and starts jogging to keep up with the man, afraid to be left behind (but secretly knowing that at this point, Ghost would never, no matter how many times he threatens to do so).

After trekking uphill for several miles and then proceeding to venture further into a heavily wooded area, secluded by tall trees and located near a large lake stands an almost unassuming cabin. The curtains to the house are open, but despite him moving closer, it turns out the glass had been tinted to the point where Soap’s unable to peek inside. He can only assume that whoever stays inside would be able to observe what’s happening unbeknownst to the people outside.

“You sure this place is safe?” Soap asks, glancing around. Sure, it’s isolated, and he trusts Ghost’s judgment, but fuck. It kind of sucks not being in the know for things as simple as safehouse locations.

“I sure would hope so.” Ghost grumbles, pulling out a key to stick into the front door’s lock. “It’s my house, after all.”

It’s silly to assume that Ghost doesn’t have a home. As a matter of fact, Soap has (many times) joked about the fact that Ghost probably lives up to his call name and takes refuge in a mausoleum in between missions. Still, Soap finds it a bit interesting to be inside the “Riley Residence” as he called it.

(Ghost just stared at him with those eyes that reflected nothing but exasperation before mumbling that he was going upstairs.)

There’s a large fireplace in the living room, and throw pillows that look soft to the touch resting on the couches. The whole entire cabin smells of something sweet, like cinnamon and sugar. Maybe looks can be deceiving; Soap didn’t take Ghost as the type of guy to burn candles in his cabin.

Then again… Ghost isn’t dumb enough to leave candles burning in his home especially if he knows that he’ll be gone for an extended period of time. How long has it been since Ghost went upstairs? He didn’t hear anything unusual, but Soap’s suddenly on high alert. Could there be someone else present? How safe is this place, really?

With one hand gripping his knife, Soap enters further into the cabin. He’s never seen a safehouse so decorated; the agents must have had too much free time on their hands when assembling this one. They even went through the trouble of adding faux personal touches to the place, like current magazines stacked on counters and fuzzy slippers left in the hallway.

(He glances at the pair of house shoes, thinking they’re Ghost’s but realizing that they’re much too small to belong to the bloody giant.)

As Soap nears what he assumes to be the kitchen, he catches sight of movement happening within his peripheral, and he’s quick to whip around to confront the intruder.

He’s met with the terrified screams of a woman, and before he can truly process what’s happening, he hears the unmistakable, thunderous footsteps of Ghost. His fellow operative’s got a gun in his hand and a worried look in his eyes as he examines the scene in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

It’s not Soap that he’s asking; instead, Ghost is immediately by your side, tucking away his gun so he can wrap his arm around you.

Your chest is still visibly rising and falling with every breath you take as you try to recover from the shock of witnessing a man with a mohawk waving a knife around in your own home. You stare at Soap, giving him a weak smile as you reassure Ghost.

“Yes, honey, everything’s fine. I was just caught off guard. I didn’t know I should have been expecting a guest.” You’ve seemed to recover quickly, and this time you offer him a real smile as you introduce yourself.

Your last name is Riley.

And while Soap prides himself on being plenty observant, he still can’t quite piece together the insanely easy puzzle in front of him. Ghost refuses to leave your side. You called the scary masked man honey. You’ve got a thin gold band adorning your left hand’s ring finger, and there’s an unmistakable baby bump protruding from the thin fabric of your nightgown.

It’s not that Soap isn’t able to realize what’s in front of him.

It’s the fact that Soap can’t believe that someone like Ghost could ever possibly have something so… normal.

A nice, cozy little home. A cute, pregnant wife. No wonder he had been so reluctant in taking the two of them here to spend the night! He’s been trying to keep you a secret this whole time.

That bloody bastard.

Ghost isn’t nearly as forgiving as you, and he’s still glaring at Soap.

“Fucking hell, Soap. I let you in my house, and the first thing you decide to do is terrify my wife. What the fuck?”

“Simon!” You gasp out, tugging at your husband’s arm. “It’s not his fault. I didn’t hear the two of you come in. He didn’t know about me because you didn’t even tell him I existed!”

“Why would he need to know? Nosy bastard’s already always in my business.” Ghost grumbles, and you slap his arm.

“I am so sorry, Soap.” You apologize on behalf of your husband (who doesn’t look the least bit sorry whatsoever). “Let me get the guest bedroom set up for you—”

“—I already did.” Ghost says, and his gaze seems to soften when his eyes land on yours and then moves downwards to focus on the baby bump. “You don’t need to be straining yourself.”

For the next few days, they lay low in an attempt to tire out their enemies or at least get them off their backs. These few days have been nothing but a series of revelations for Soap.

For example, who would have thought that Ghost has a lovely little wife at home who he absolutely worships? He’s caught the man massaging your feet, forcing you to let him wash the dishes, and Soap doesn’t even want to know the reason why the two of you so long in the shower. (Ghost would probably kill him if he ever did try to find out.)

Every single morning, the two of you cook breakfast together. He kisses you (forehead, cheeks, lips — just depends on what’s the most accessible at the moment) every time he walks by you. You’ll say, honey, can you bring me a glass of water? but he’s already making his way towards you, glass in hand, because he’s so attuned to you.

Every glimpse of Ghost’s secret domestic life feels too intimate for Soap to watch; he almost feels as if he’s intruding on a private moment, even when the two of you are doing something as simple as being near each other.

(Do you know that every time you move just the slightest bit, Ghost mirrors the action, adjusting his body accordingly so that it’s always shielding yours?)

“You look like you’ve been dying for the chance to ask me a couple of questions,” you set down a mug of hot tea in front of Soap before sliding into the seat across from him. Ghost is out back chopping firewood, and while you usually enjoy watching the way his arms flex and his muscular back just absolutely tighten up every time he hacks up the wood, you know that Soap will never get a chance to talk to you in private.

“Was I that obvious?” He grins, feeling more relaxed whenever you laugh. You’re an awfully nice person; too nice to survive in their world, and probably too nice for the city, too. No wonder Ghost keeps you tucked away in this cabin.

“I’d be more surprised if you didn’t have any questions about our relationship.”

“I guess that’s true, huh? So, uh, how’d you two meet?” Soap can’t exactly picture a teenage Ghost with a high school crush.

“He saved my life.” There’s a healthy glow to your skin; it might stem from the pregnancy, but you simply seem to brighten up even more when you talk about your husband. “You know, you were there too!”

“I was?” He takes a closer look at you, but he can’t recognize you in any of his memories. You’re certainly beautiful, and he’s sure that if he really did meet you, he would at least remember you by now.

“Don’t worry, I think Simon will prefer it if you didn’t know me at all, anyway.” Your fingers wrap around your own mug, warming up your cold hands. “Don’t let him fool you, though. He’s such a big softie.”

Soap has watched your “big softie” stab men to death quicker than he can blink his eyes. If it was a rescue mission where the two of you met, he’s almost certain that you must have seen his less-than-sweet side as well.

“You think he’d kill me if I started tellin’ everyone what a big softie he is?”

“He’d let you get away with it. You’re one of his friends, after all.”

“Wait, what?”

“C’mon, Soap. You and I both know Simon pretty well. He’s not above sleeping in the woods. He wouldn’t have brought someone here he didn’t trust. And you might not have known I existed, but we talk about you sometimes.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“It’s Simon.” You say, simply shrugging. “I’m sure he saves the worst for when the two of you are face to face.”

“Has he ever taken the mask off with you?”

You beckon Soap to lean forward just like you, and with your elbows on the table and both of you with your heads low, you whisper conspiratorially, “I take it off for him.”

The two of you are still laughing when Ghost walks in.

You pack both of them lunches before sending them back on their way, waving farewell from the front door, one hand resting on your stomach. You and Simon already had a private sendoff; away from the prying eyes of your visitor, Simon kneels down to give a gentle kiss to your belly, staring in wonder as he feels the slightest kick in return.

“Be a good boy for mommy,” is what he whispers before returning back to his full height. It’s hard to hug you with all his tactical gear getting in the way, but he’s stubborn.

Walking out the door and leaving you and his child behind is always hard. You tell Soap to come back any time (Simon’s stare told him that that invitation would not be valid under his watch).

Soap promises he will, and Ghost just has to respect that because he’s already been kind enough to turn a blind eye to the obvious longing in Ghost’s eyes as he leaves you.

“So, Lt., tell me. I must be your favorite, eh?”

“Favorite what? Pain in the fucking ass?” Ghost retorts. The two of them have a long walk ahead of them.

“Am I the first on the force to meet your girl?”

Ghost’s silence is confirmation enough.

“I knew it! I am your favorite on the force.”

“Shut up.”

(Ghost doesn’t necessarily dispute the claim, though.)

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #fluff #one shot #drabble #modern warfare 2

[yujification]

ik its nothing much to go off of but

wife!yunjin who is nothing short of obsessed with your pussy… especially her fucking you with a strap bc she wants to get you pregnant so bad but cant bc shes stuck with her dumb vagina :(

i’ve been actually thinking abt this A LOT anon thank you for opening my mind

cw: praise, breeding kink, strap referred to as a cock

pussy drunk yunjin is my favorite thing in the WORLD. she always wants it, no matter how. she’ll take anything you give her. she loves watching you unravel and come on her strap because she just thinks you’re so pretty with your jaw slack and sweat dripping down your head and neck, beads of perspiration sticking your your hairline. she’s just more than pleased that you’re enjoying yourself, and making you come makes her come. she’s so gentle when she fucks you, making sure not to hurt you or go too quick. she knows you can take all of it, but loves watching her faux cock disappear into your glistening cunt, the sight alone making her bite her lip while her own pussy clenches around nothing, soaking her panties until they’re embarrassingly wet and practically ruined.

baby just really wants to breed you, she figures that that’s what marriage is for. she loves you— you’re hers and she’s yours, and filling you up with her come would make her so happy, and likes to imagine that’s what’s happening when she fucks you, mattress gently creaking under you :( she has good stamina too, fucking you through several orgasms, round after round, just to make sure her baby is as happy as she is (plus she likes seeing you all fucked out and sweaty). even after your third orgasm, she’s still consistently with her thrusts, rolling her hips into you until she’s able to watch your pretty lips part again, meeting them in a rather urgent kiss, mumbling against your mouth, “it’s okay, come for me, angel”. you’re her dream girl and she wants you to know.

and when you ride her strap, it’s possibly even better? you get a good view of her face and you get to watch her chest heave and eyes flutter when it almost feels a little too real. she’s grabbing onto your thighs and ass, fondling and pulling and massaging while you rock and bounce on her cock, praises escaping her lips like second nature, “such a good girl, you’re so good for me, baby,” while she orgasms for the third time since you started, still wishing she could come inside you.

#girl group smut #girl group x reader #kpop smut #smut #fem reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #huh yunjin x you #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin #jennifer huh #le sserafim x you #le sserafim x y/n #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #yunjin x you #yunjin #yunjin le sserafim #idol x fem reader #idol x reader #idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop gg

[megistusdiary]

ARLECCHINO WITH A BREEDING KINK?? moans

FINALLY someone wants to discuss arlecchino...thank you ♡

all i remember from fontaine was anytime she was on screen or being discussed!

she's called "father" too, and DAMN that made me go hmmm 😇😇

for her, it's allll in the way she speaks to you about it. she's leaned down, whispering only into your ear about filling you up and making you hers ♡

can she get you pregnant? no, but by the archons, can she try!!

just for you...i write a little drabble of arlecchino breeding kink 🫶 on the house

breeding kink thoughts with arlecchino ✧.*

dom!arlecchino x sub!fem (anatomy/pronouns) reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, strap penetration (sub receiving), mating press, breeding kink, praise

your eyes flutter shut with the way she has you completely pinned beneath her. you really can't do much other than simply take it...take her.

"you're mine, aren't you? say it." arlecchino orders, and you, of course, comply.

"yours, yes! i'm yours!" you pant as she presses you down even further. you can feel her pushing her strap deeper into you. from this angle, she can hit the spongy spot she knows you both love so much. it renders you a little whimpering mess and gives her quite the view.

arlecchino grunts softly as she forces the thick strap in and out of you, your clit pushing on her pelvis as you whine up at her for more.

she trains her eyes on the sight of you wrapped around her tightly, your own slick gathering near the base of her faux cock. possessive feelings bubble up inside of her as she imagines the white ring around her being made of her cum mixed with yours. the thought of filling you up entirely, of filling you up with her.

her hips push harder, deeper at the thought, and you whine, gripping her toned biceps, bringing her back down from the clouds.

"can you guess what i was thinking about, doll?" she breathes into your ear, her voice husky as you let out a breathy sigh in return.

"mm?" you ask, eyes shutting again as your head tilts back.

her lips press against your forehead, trailing back down to the shell of your ear. "wouldn't it feel so good if i could fill you up myself, hm? mark you as mine inside and out?" she asks. there's a teasing lilt to her voice that you're not yet too far gone to notice.

you lean up to look at her, lips slightly parted with interest.

"oh? you liked that, didn't you?" before you can say anything, she's moving her hips teasingly. "don't deny it, sweet girl, i felt the way you sucked me in when you imagined it." she tuts.

"want it...need it..." your pleas sound downright adorable to her. the perfect combination of needy and pathetic.

"a shame that i can't, isn't it?" she asks, not expecting a response. instead you surprise her by reaching up to dig your nails into her back, tugging her closer, pushing her strap impossibly deeper as you wiggle your hips to rub your clit against her. "oh, doll..." she smiles almost wickedly, leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips.

she pulls away quickly before your lips can even process the sensation to chase hers. you look completely debauched as you mumble to her, begging for her to fill you up, to mark you as hers.

arlecchino coos at your fucked-out form as she pistons her hips faster, accurately as your whines increase in volume uncontrollably. "that's it. come on, sweet girl. come for me, and i'll have you full of me."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #wlw smut #genshin wlw #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚ #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚

[mapiforpresident]

Hi writer, prompt number 16 with Barcelona femeni(maybe platonic)

I'll Try to Behave

fcb femení x teen!reader

warnings: alcohol

The team bus was loud before you even got on it, but as soon as you made your way up the stairs the whole coach cheered. It was a couple hours after Barcelona had won the Supercopa in which you scored three goals.

"I knew I brought you here for a reason" Lucy yelled over the music Patri and Pina were playing on a speaker.

"You didn't do anything, it was mostly Keira and Ona. If anything you were on my con list."

"I'm taking personal offence to that," Lucy said as she slid into the seat next to Ona towards the middle of the bus. Ona was a good friend of yours having played with her during her two years at Man United. You were also close with Lucy and Keira from being on the Lionesses together.

As Lucy and Ona got lost in their own little world of staring into each other's eyes lovingly, you fake gagged at them and continued to the back of the bus where your closest friends Patri, Pina, Mapi, and Cata were all yelling some song in Spanish that you couldn't understand a word of. Alexia and Ingrid were also sat in the back although based on their frowns, you had a feeling they thought the music was a little bit loud.

You dramatically flopped yourself on Alexia's lap who was sat directly in front of Pina and Patri's seat. "Yo Pina play that one I like next please and Patri can you please pass me one of those beers."

"No, absolutely not. Have you lost your mind." Alexia exclaimed while she was trying to push you off of her onto the seat next to her.

"Ale I'm seventeen, I've drank a beer before. Mapi even gave me two at the last team bonding night after you feel asleep like a grandma during The Lion King."

"You were not supposed to tell her that y/n." Mapi angrily whispered at you from across the aisle. "Great now she is going to murder me and never let me within ten feet of you"

"I swear to god Mapi. Why are you corrupting the baby. And you," Alexia said as she turned to you, "no drinking or dating or anything of the sort until you are thirty."

"You do know me and Pina had a beer chugging contest in the locker room before we got on the bus right."

"Claudia Pina." You had never seen anyone glare with as much exasperation at someone until now. Claudia coward under Ale's gaze and pretended to be staring out the window until Alexia was called up to the front of the bus by Jana asking her a question.

Patri decided to break the tension by shouting "truth or dare anyone," down the aisle of the bus to which you immediately agreed.

"Truth or dare, y/n," Patri asked you. You decided to go with truth for the first one knowing if you chose dare already, Patri would mostly likely give you one that would end with Alexia dragging you to the front of the bus and not letting you have anymore fun.

"Have you ever had a crush on anyone on this team." Patri really wanted to know the answer because you rarely talked about crushes or your love life.

You smirked at her. "Yes. Truth or dare Mapi"

"Wait hold on who is it" Patri asked as Pina asks "Do you still have a crush on them."

"That was not part of the question. Truth or dare Mapi." Mapi decided to go with a dare much to the displeasure of her girlfriend sitting next to her.

"I dare you to call your mom and tell her your pregnant"

"You know she is never going to believe me seeing as I'm with Ingrid and all," Mapi replied, but still pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number not one to back down from a dare.

As Mapi made the call, the rest of the team listening were trying their hardest to contain their fits of laughter, the alcohol already consumed not helping. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, watching as Mapi put on her best dramatic performance, her eyes widening in feigned panic as she spoke into the phone.

"Mom, I have something to tell you... I'm pregnant," Mapi announced dramatically, her voice laced with faux distress.

The reaction on the other end of the line was immediate and intense, Mapi's mother launching into a tirade of disbelief and concern that had the entire bus doubled over in laughter. Even Ingrid couldn't contain her amusement, shaking her head in mock disapproval as Mapi continued to play her part until eventually Mapi's mom heard all the laughing and figured out Mapi was pranking her. After she hung up she asked, "Claudia, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"What’s your biggest turn-on?" Mapi asked.

"Um probably eye contact," Claudia replied as she blushed a little. "Ok Cata, truth or dare."

Just as Cata was about to reply dare. Alexia called out to the bus that they had arrived back at the parking lot.

As you stepped off the bus, the night air enveloped you. The laughter and banter of your teammates echoed around you, their voices a comforting melody amidst the bustling streets of Barcelona.

Patri and Pina led the way to Patri's car, the promise of continuing the celebration at a club with friends sparking excitement in the air. You were about to join them, already planning how many shots you'd take, when suddenly, Alexia's firm grip halted you in your tracks.

"Absolutely not, hermanita," Alexia declared, her gaze unwavering. "I already asked Olga to set up the spare room for you. We can watch a movie before you go to bed if you're good on the car ride home."

You pouted playfully, but deep down, you were grateful for Alexia's protective instinct. With a resigned sigh, you agreed, knowing that Alexia always had your best interests at heart.

"Fine," you relented, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "As long as I get to pick the movie."

And so, the night continued, filled with laughter, music, and the warmth of friendship that surrounded you like a comforting embrace. As you fell asleep that night, nestled between Alexia and Olga, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the football family you had found at Barcelona, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other's backs.

---

Let me know if you guys have any tips or comments to improve my writing. Also my requests are open so feel to request anything and I will get it done asap. Thank you!!

#fcb femení x reader #fcb femení #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #mapi leon #claudia pina #patri guijarro #ona batlle #keira walsh #woso x reader #woso

[heartchoi]

CHOI LINE + BREEDING

pairing(s): txt's choi line x afab!reader

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected s*x, mentions of pregancy, dirty talk, degradation (name calling, only in soobin's part), creamp*e, pet names (vary for each member)

minors dni!!

choi yeonjun

yeonjun's lips part momentarily just to release a moan. his eyes roll back for a second, hands gripping at your hips while he sinks himself inside you. he's never felt you like this beforeㅡ you've had sex in the past. but he's never given it to you raw.

yeonjun's thrusts are slow and calculated, slowly working himself inside of you as he struggles not to cum. his skin feels like fire on yours, but you ignore it as you savor the pleasure of him finally fucking you raw for the first time.

"god... what the fuck are you doing to me?" he says, voice raspy yet strained as he sucks in air through his teeth. you know his question is rhetorical, but you only serve to tempt him even more when you clench down on his cock. "___, don't." yeonjun says sternly. his hips halt immediately, fingers digging into your skin. you're sure he's left indents of crescent marks from his nails. "if you don't want to get pregnant by tomorrow morning, don't clench." you giggle a bit. his face is stern, you can tell he's holding himself back. you coo, and you gently hold his face in your hands. "and what if i want you to?" you tease, smirking.

yeonjun groans, slowly pulling out until his tip is still sheathed inside you, barreling his hips right back into yours.

"be careful what you wish for, darling."

rest of the members under the cut!

choi soobin

soobin thinks hes officially lost his mind. the way you cling to him as he fucks into you mercilessly, fingers barely keeping it's grip on his body. and still, he continues to whisper thoughts in your ear that your brain can barely comprehend, the empty head of yours only filled with your lust for him.

your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer (as if you weren't already close enough) and pushing him deeper inside you. "going to fill you up so well." soobin hisses, his tip plowing farther into you. the stretch burns, but the pleasure hes giving you is unmatched. "you want that, huh? my little cumslut." soobin spits. you shake your head desperately. he smirks, and his thrusts increase in pace, almost inhuman how fast he's fucking into you. "no? you don't want me to fill you up?" your breath hitches, a moan quickly escaping your throat. "think about it, bun. a little you or me, want me to give it to you?" you rest your head on soobin's shoulder, incoherent whines leaving your mouth. "what do you say, my love?"

soobin's hips stutter momentarily, and his release fills you to the brim. his hips continue to grind into you still, eager to fulfill his desires.

choi beomgyu

"ah! fuck- wait, beomgyu, mmph!" beomgyu bounces you on his lap repeatedly, the slapping of skin evident as you continue to drop down on his cock. "what is it, babe?" he asks you, expression filled with faux concern. "t- too fast! too much!" you cry out. beomgyu pouts.

"don't tell me you're already close." he tsks. your face blushes red. "ah- well..." you start, but you're cut off with a laugh. "i know, i know. i'm just so good." beomgyu leans forward, his pace slowing a little. his lips place a kiss behind your ear, but it's a distraction as he whispers into your ear. "my cock fills you up so well, huh? always want your little hole filled."

verbal responses are out of the question for you, his cock making your brain feel more intoxicated than any alcoholic drink could. "you know, i could make sure you're always full of me." beomgyu continues, cock drilling so far into you that it feels like hes punching straight into your womb. "fill you with my cum, make you carry my child. you'd be so full."

"i can make it happen, babe. just gotta tell me."

#txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #yeonjun smut #soobin smut #beomgyu smut #🍒.soobin #🍒.beomgyu #🍒.yeonjun

[ciaraswritings]

I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.

It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.

Batprank (Pt. 2)

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.

Word Count: 2K words

Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.

Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.

Part One

Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 

I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.

"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 

"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 

"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"

"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 

"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 

I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."

"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 

The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.

"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 

"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 

“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 

“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.

“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.

“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 

“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.

“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 

“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 

As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.

“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 

Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”

“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”

My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”

“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 

My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 

I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 

“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 

“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”

“Was that the only one?”

“Yeah, that was the only one.”

“Then… it was probably just…” 

“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.

“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 

“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 

“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.

“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 

...

A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 

Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 

“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

…

Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 

I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 

“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 

I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.

Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.

Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 

#batman imagine #dc comics #dcu #female reader #fanfiction #fluff #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc batman #batmom #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #pregnancy imagine #pregnant reader #batfamily #batman fanfiction #batman fanfic #batman fluff #batman x fem!reader #batman x y/n #batman x pregnant reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #fanfic #bruce wayne imagine #imagine #batmom!reader #batman x batmom

[b1mbodoll]

also been thinking abt yunjin 💭💭💭 shes so pretty she probably looks even prettier when giving head T_____T groaning into your pussy bcs u taste sooo good and all this talk about being milked is making me lose my mind a lil !!! cause she would (tell me if this is not a okay subject for you!!!!!!!!!!) LOVE sucking on your pregnancy tiddies and tasting all your breast milk while she strokes her (g!p) thinking abt how she just wants to get you pregnant again and again if you'll keep producing such good milk for her ♡ probably cums on your pussy and eats you out again so you'll be "cleaned up" <333333

love 🎀 anonie!

pairings: huh yunjin x f! reader

warnings: oral + g!p + creampies + breeding + overstimulation + pregnancy + lactation

💌: god nonie i love u to pieces ur brain words fucking wonders this is my fave thing ever aghh im gonna kissyou

“stop squirming, princess.” yunjin’s voice is distant. she’s fucked you with her tongue to the point where it dont even feel like you’re in your body anymore, and it has you convinced your girlfriend’s tongue is a gateway to heaven.

“god, you taste good.” she hums, curling her fingers inside of you, making you lurch forward as a high pitched whine is ripped from you, clit throbbing from the overstimulation.

she pulls her drenched fingers from your hole before aligning her length with your entrance, using the moisture as lube to jerk her stiff cock at a sloppy pace just outside of your cunt, too desperate to maintain a steady one.

“‘m gonna knock you up.” she promises, sliding just the thick head of her dick inside as one of her hands palms your tit, pulling at your sensitive nipple. the pain makes you jolt, pussy trying to suck her in while you grab at her wrist in an attempt to stop the assault on your breasts.

“yunjin — hah — stop..hurts” you whined, already close to cumming. you both know that you don’t want her to stop and not bothering to use your safeword is enough of a reason for her to continue, pushes her dick inside with one thrust, the tightness too much for her to bear. “i know it hurts baby, but you like it, yeah? you’re a nasty little thing that’s why you like when i hurt you n use you like a fucktoy, right baby?”

there was something so sexy about yunjin’s dirty talk. maybe it was because your girlfriend is usually such a sweetheart but the second she’s balls deep in your cunt she can’t help her mean words and even meaner actions.

the pleasure is mindnumbing, making you unable to focus on anything but her dick fucking into you, the thick veins look delicious covered in your cream and you can’t look away, your mouth hanging open as you focus on her cock disappearing inside your stretched pussy.

“look at you, angel” she tells you, “look so pretty f’me bet you’ll look even better carryin’ my kid.” yunjin moans at the thought, pressing deeper inside, her only goal to fuck a baby into you. “can’t wait til your tits fill up with my milk, need to taste it so bad.” her eyes have rolled into the back of her skull now, mindless groans escaping her every now and then.

“give it to me” you were delirious, too fucked out to process the words as they left your mouth. “gimme a baby, yunjin, need it so bad. wanna make you a mommy ‘nd have you milk me,” her thrusts speed up, becoming harsh and uncoordinated. “you’ll help me right, yunie?” you’re such a goddamn tease it makes her want to wipe the faux pout off your lips.

“yeah baby, i’ll help. gonna milk you like a fucking cow ‘nd plug you full of cum like my breeding bitch.” she snarks, her balls slapping your ass with every push of her hips.

whines and mewls are your only response, too cockdrunk to form a coherent sentence as you approach your orgasm.

your walls clamp around her dick in a vice grip as you cream around her and the sensation is enough to make her blow her load, bucking her hips haphazardly as she empties her balls deep inside.

“good girl, good fuckin’ girl” she moans, the praise combined with the thick ropes spilling inside makes you squeal, wrapping your legs around her to keep every drop of cum inside, neither of you wanting to waste her potent seed.

even after filling you up yunjin is insatiable, continues to slowly grind her hips into yours as she kisses you softly.

she won’t be done until she’s shooting blanks or passes out, whichever happens first.

#♡.signed. sealed. delivered. #♡.the honeypot #♡.sweetheart: 🎀 #le sserafim #huh yunjin #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #💌.g!p #💌.oral #💌.creampies #💌.breeding #💌.overstimulation #💌.pregnancy #💌.lactation

[djarinvibe]

Oblivion (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: crawling out of hibernation to post a javi p fic before disappearing again. Enjoy!

Summary: After a one night stand with Javier, you come to learn you are pregnant. Angst ensues

Words: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public piv sex, oral (f!receiving), a lil angst, swears -- lmk if i missed anything <3

Italics = flashback // masterlist

The heat of Bogotá was starting to make you senile, even while sitting in the DEA office that’s loaded with fans to circulate the stale, hot air. The papers filled with valuable information you’ve been staring at were beginning to strain your eyes, the small lettering from the typewriter swirling across the page. 

You've been here for what felt like days, even though it's only been a handful of hours since you arrived this morning. The ashtray on your desk still emitted a thin line of smoke from the cigarette you had just snuffed out, and the coffee you brewed yourself a few hours ago had long gone cold from neglect.

Setting down the files in your grasp, your free hand rose up to your face, resting your head in your palm. Some days it felt like your job was impossible. No matter what you or your partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña did, Escobar always seemed to slink away just in the nick of time; even with the help of Carrillo and the search bloc.

It didn’t help that your mind was clouded by something else that happened just the night before. Something you never expected would happen since yours and Steve’s arrival to Colombia.

The two of you were both assigned to Escobar’s case and flew in together with Connie and their- now deceased- cat. However, you aren't from Miami like Steve is. You're actually from the west coast, Oregon to be exact. 

“Y’alright, Darlin’?” You heard Steve’s voice across the room, prompting you to lift your head. The blonde, lanky man stood leaning against the doorframe to your office with a steaming coffee and freshly lit cigarette in his grasp.

“Just… one of those days.” You murmured, giving the man a faux smile before sighing softly. 

“Are you going to tell Murphy?” Peña spoke after exhaling from a drag. He sat on the couch in his apartment, shirt off with his jeans still unbuttoned, staring down the bare skin of your back you had yet to clothe. 

You scoffed, shaking your head while pulling up your pants, “Absolutely not. This was a ‘one and done’ type of situation.” 

You slept with Javier on a whim; drunk, exhausted, and desperate to catch a quick release. Though after the two of you finished, it was a sobering experience to realize you had just fucked your coworker.

Since moving here and meeting him, you couldn’t deny that you’ve developed feelings over time; despite his reputation of sleeping around. Working long, late hours with him and Steve, you came to learn he isn’t as horrible as the gossips in the office seem to think he is. 

But even with that knowledge, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt. Not by him. Not when you have to face each other at work almost every day.

“It’s only noon.” Steve smirked, raising the mug in his grasp to take a sip of the coffee. 

“I had a long night.” You responded, eyes meeting your partners once again. You trusted Steve with your life. Being placed in dangerous, life threatening situations will make you feel that way about the people you experienced them with. But, you couldn't tell him that you and Javier slept together last night. 

Especially because Steve has been teasing the two of you about your evident chemistry for months now; both him and Connie whenever the four of you would get dinner or drinks. 

But you were firm on the idea that a relationship with him wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, as soon as Escobar was either jailed or dead, you'll most likely go your separate ways, returning to the home states you came from. And you couldn't let a relationship get in the way of your career.

You're still relatively young, having just turned thirty three months ago. You worked your ass off to be in the position you are now, a DEA agent, despite your field being mostly dominated by men. Misogynistic, dick-headed, men. 

And you certainly weren't going to let one of those men- Javier, to a lesser degree- get in your way. 

---

“I have to confess something,” You drunkenly slurred, looking at the woman seated on the couch next to you. Connie’s eyes widened as a mischievous, eager-for-gossip grin covered her face. 

The two of you had planned a girls night on one of your days off. Constantly working and being around testosterone all the time was frustrating, so any time spent with Connie was cherished. 

The two of you really became close on the flight from Miami to Colombia. Instead of flying out from Oregon, you first flew across the country and met Steve in Florida. After a few weeks preparing for your new assignment along with your new partner, you, Steve and Connie departed to Colombia.

“What?” She giggled, sipping the margarita in her grasp. 

“I slept with Peña, like two weeks ago.” You murmured, watching the woman's face twist into all sorts of emotions, mainly shocked.

“Really?” She finally found the words to speak.

“We got drunk and it just kind of happened,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Can I ask… How was it?” She giggled as she asked the question, a goofy grin crossing her face, cheeks heating up.

His rough hands grabbed at your ass as you rode him on the couch, skin slapping from how fast he was guiding you. You could feel every inch of his condom-covered cock fill you up, and only craved more as you feverishly rubbed your clit. 

Your eyes met his own amongst the pleasure, making your chest flutter from the intensity and passion. He was hungry for your body; the taste, the feel. It’s something he's been craving for months; watching you parade around in your tight skirts. Steve gave him shit about it constantly, clocking nearly immediately how much Javier took a liking to you, but he always brushed it off.

“God, cariño,” He groaned, watching your breasts bounce. You bit your lip as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, switching positions so your back was now on the couch and he was standing. 

His cock plunged back into you immediately, causing you to call out his name, nails digging into his arms which had moved down as his hands grasped your hips. 

“Javi,” It was breathy and caused him to falter at how sexy his name sounded falling from your lips. He’s heard it a million times before, but not like this, not so needy and whiny.

It caused him to pick up his pace, watching your face twist with delight as he fucked you into the couch. Many women have been in this very spot, but you outstand them by far. Your pussy fit his throbbing cock like a glove, your breasts are the perfect shape and size for his hands and lips, your mouth did wonderful things as well. The blowjob you gave him before you fucked nearly made him bust like a damn teenager. 

“Oh, you're going to make me cum,” Your voice rasped out of your throat as your nails dug into his biceps. This would be the third time he's making you finish for the night, a personal record. You haven't had amazing partners in bed in the past. 

The familiar burn began to form in your lower belly, your nerves feeling as though they were electric. The man released his hand from your hip and moved it to your core, thumb quickly rubbing your clit in fast circles. 

“Cum for me, hermosa,” He grunted, feeling your pussy clench around his cock. The sensation caused his own orgasm to begin to rush up on him, prompting him to thrust faster. 

Your orgasm washed through your body as you moaned Javier’s name loudly, head tilted back into the couch cushions from the overwhelming sensation. You could feel the man's thrusts get sloppier until he too came, cock buried deep in your pussy with a groan, little whispers of praise leaving his lips.

“It was uh-” You paused, feeling your own face gaining heat at the memory, “Good. I'll tell you that.” 

“I'm so happy that this happened.” Connie gushed, leaning forwards in excitement, “Steve and I have had a bet going on for months. He owes me five bucks.” 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, wanting her to relish in the excitement before you dropped the bombshell of reality onto the woman. As much as Connie and Steve- apparently- wanted this to happen, it just wasn't going to. You made that clear with Javier, now you'll have to do the same with them.

---

“Hey,” Javier’s low voice caught your attention, causing your stomach to drop. You’ve been avoiding him to the best of your abilities since that night seven weeks ago.

Not only because you slept together, but also because, just last night, you found out you were expecting. 

The light knock on your apartment door caused you to jump off of the couch and rush over, pulling open the entryway. Connie greeted you with a pitiful, yet encouraging grin. You could see the brown paper bag in her grasp as she slipped into your home, walking past you. 

“Do you really think it’s-” She began, walking until she stood in the living room while also handing you the bag. 

“Yes.” You cut her off, opening the paper bag to reveal two pregnancy tests. You felt your stomach churn at the sight and swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up.

“What did you tell Steve?” You asked, looking back up at the blonde before treading over to the bathroom. 

“He's not even home yet. Him and Javier had to go somewhere following a tip regarding Poison.” She shrugged her shoulders, sitting down on the couch. You chewed your lip, not only anxious for the result of the pregnancy tests, but now for your boys. You should be out there with them... but you're sick at home because of one.

You nodded even though she couldn't see and quietly stepped into the bathroom. It didn't take long for you to do what the instructions asked, anxious enough for the result. 

When you flipped the two tests over, revealing little pink pluses on each, bile immediately rose to your throat, causing you to rush over to the toilet and release the contents of your belly. 

Connie was quick to knock on the door before entering, rushing over to your figure and rubbing your back for comfort. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the tests, widening when she saw the evident positive on both, before looking back down at your sad figure. 

“Oh, honey,” She whispered softly as you raised your head, tears streaming down your cheeks hotly. She grabbed some toilet paper from nearby and gently patted them away, hand cupping your cheek.

“I just… didn't expect this.” You sniffled, shaking your head “We used protection, I-” You stopped and shook your head, a fresh set of tears streaming down your cheeks. 

You haven't exactly slept without anyone since Javier. Anytime you tried picking up someone at the bar after work, they just weren't the same. You couldn't even make it past a heated make out session before feeling the need to kick them out or leave.

“What's up?” You didn't dare look at him, your stomach still twisting. You kept your gaze at the manila file in your grasp, facing shelves full of boxes containing files.

“You alright?” He questioned, stepping further into the room, eyeing down your back. You swallowed, hearing his footsteps as they got closer to your figure. 

“I’m fine, why?” You furrowed your brow, finally raising your head and looking over your shoulder at the man. He could see the emotions you were so desperately trying to hide, making his own chest ache.

The truth is, the night you fucked had also been stuck on his mind. And the obvious avoidance you've shown has been messing with his head. He understood nothing more was to come from that night in his apartment, but he didn't expect you to be so cold; even at work. 

When he walks into a room, you leave it. And if you're sitting at your desks, you always make an excuse to go work in the conference room. Not just that, but you also won't even look at him half the time, and only address Steve when the three of you are standing together. 

“No reason.” Javier shook his head, “Murphy just wanted to know if you found the file?” He quickly changed the subject. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just found it,” You began, finding the confidence to turn around and meet his gaze, “Was just reading through to make sure it was the right one.” You noticed how close he’d stepped into the small room; nearly trapping you against the wall of files. It made your heart race and emotions run amuck. 

This is why you had been avoiding him.

Early pregnancy symptoms have been kicking your ass. And having Javier there to rub your back when you felt cramps, or hold your hair back when you were nauseous hanging over the toilet, was something you craved.

“We should get back to Steve then.” The man commented. You nodded, eyes averting from his face to his chest. The shirt he was wearing had been unbuttoned dangerously low, making your cheeks fill with heat. You no longer had to imagine what his bare chest looked like, as you've already gotten to see it. 

“Is there something on my shirt?” Javier's voice broke you from your memory, and you felt your face gain heat rapidly. 

“No.” You quickly stuttered out, shaking your head, and pushing past him to get out of the corner he had trapped you in.

---

By sixteen weeks, your pants wouldn't button anymore, and your bump was getting less easy to hide. You had to switch to baggier blouses and stretch pants. Luckily, having male work partners, they haven't noticed your changing body yet.

It came as a surprise because you've since quit smoking, drinking, and caffeinated coffee. 

Connie has been keeping your secret well. You begged her not to tell Steve until you were ready, to which she agreed. She understood you needed time to figure everything out. Being a single, pregnant woman is mostly frowned upon this day in age. Not that you care about that bullshit, but you don't particularly enjoy being the center of attention. 

You also need to figure out if and when you are going to tell Javier. Deep down, you know you should. And if you end up getting sent back to the states because everyone found out, then that's fine as well.

Your plan was to stay and help as much as you could, until near the end of your pregnancy. When it reaches that time, you'll take maternity leave combined with your vacation days, and fly back home. After your baby is born… you don't really know what you're going to do.

A knock on your apartment door caught your attention, and you stood up, brows furrowing. It was late, close to midnight. You had gotten off work a short amount of hours ago, but weren't expecting any visitors. 

You reached into your purse and pulled out your gun, making sure it was loaded before slowly treading to the front door. Looking through the peephole, your stomach dropped as to who stood in the hallway. 

Unarming your pistol, you placed it back onto your purse before returning over to the door and opening it. 

“Javier?” You had seen him at work earlier, but his sudden appearance at your apartment, blocks away from his own, was a shock. 

Despite trying your best to ignore him earlier in your pregnancy, you eventually learned to push your feelings about everything to the back burner and only talk shop. No personal life was discussed, only work.

“I need to talk to you.” He spoke, brown eyes boring into your own. You felt your stomach drop, nodding as you stepped aside and allowed him in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he walked by you, heading towards the couch. 

“What's up?” You questioned, pulling your robe tighter around your body while watching him sit. You had gotten out of the shower only twenty minutes ago, and hadn't bothered to get clothed yet, save for a bra and underwear. 

“I need to ask you about the coordinates to Escobar's current hideout.” He spoke, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket.

“Oh, um, please don't smoke in here.” You commented, swallowing heavily. The man gave you a quizzical look, tucking the cigarettes back into his pocket. 

“Are you quitting or something?” He questioned.

“Something like that.” You spoke, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, “So, what questions do you have?” 

“Carillo and the Search Bloc are going to drop into Escobar’s tomorrow morning. I'm having my informant confirm the coordinates once more, you should have yours do the same.” Javier answered, looking you down. 

Seeing you there sitting in your robe, fresh out of the shower caused his heart to pick up and cock come to attention. Your cleavage had popped out, the robe slightly splitting open at the top when you sat down. He couldn't help but notice that your breasts seemed larger. Your legs were also deliciously exposed, and looked so soft. 

The man just wanted to feel your skin; squish the meat of your thighs, kiss the gorgeous crevice where your legs meet your torso.

“I’ll get a hold of them.” You nodded towards him, “You came all this way just for that?” You then questioned.

The man muttered something about tapped phone lines- which you suspected was a lie- before asking if you had any liquor.

 With a nod, you stood up and walked over to your kitchen, pulling a bottle of whiskey out the cabinet. You then poured him a glass before carrying both the freshly poured liquor and the bottle back over to the couch, placing them down in front of his figure.

Truthfully, you miss both drinking and smoking. But the health of your baby is more important than the poison you use to ease your mind. 

Sitting back down, you watched the man take a hefty gulp before refilling his glass. You bit your lip, playing with the hem of your robe as the two of you sat there in silence. You were unsure of what to say, wanting to avoid everything besides work. 

Your inner voice was suggesting otherwise, fighting for you to tell him the news. You know it isn't fair to keep it a secret, as he at least deserves to know that he’s going to be a father- Not that he has to stay and help raise the kid.

You have fully come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a single mom, raising the baby on your own.

“Javier…” You began, playing with your fingers. The man turned his gaze, searching your face, questioning as to what you're going to say. You took his silence as your signal to continue on, “Do you remember when we slept together four months ago?” 

“How could I forget,” The man spoke, a smug expression crossing his face as he took a sip of his drink. 

You rolled your eyes at his comment before taking a deep breath, “Uh, well. I-I think the condom broke.” 

The man's cheerful expression quickly dropped into a serious one as he set the glass harshly down onto the table, standing up, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I'm sure.” You frowned in return, standing up as well and untying the robe to expose the small bump of your belly. You watched the man's eyes drop to your mostly naked body. He first stopped at your breasts, admiring how enticing they looked tucked in your bra, before trailing down to your stomach. He could see the shadow the bump caused, sending his heart into his throat. 

“I found out at seven weeks. My period was late.” You broke the silence, retying your robe. “I admit I didn't know how to tell you- If I was even going to in the first place. But, I'm getting to a point where I can't hide it anymore. And…” You paused, swallowing, “You deserve to know.” 

Javier only stared you down, resting his hands on his hips, “And you haven't slept with other guys?” 

“No, I haven't slept with other men.” You felt hurt by his question even though it was reasonable. The two of you don't have a claim over the other, “I-I tried after our night together and… couldn't. I know that you're the father.” You brought your hand down to your bump. Your baby was still small, only being sixteen weeks along, but you have grown to love the thing with your whole heart. 

“Look, I-I need time to think about this.” Javier muttered, shaking his head. You felt your heart begin to race at his comment, even though you'd already prepared yourself for heartbreak.

The man doesn't want to be tied down, he proved that by walking out on his wedding with Lorraine all those years ago, and the various women he circulates through in a week. You should've expected his rejection.

“I don't expect you to be a part of this.” You quickly spoke, trying to reassure him- and yourself, “I fully am ready to do it on my own. I have been since I found out. I won't tell anyone it's yours.” 

He stared at you before nodding silently. This is certainly not what he expected when he came to your apartment this evening; he had different intentions. He missed you. He missed your body and the way you taste. The hookers and informants he's been fucking the last four months have been like dirt compared to you. 

But now knowing that you were carrying his kid? It all felt so overwhelming. 

“I-It’s probably best if you go…” You spoke so quietly, wrapping your robe tighter around your body, his silence beginning to make your heart race.

“Hermosa-” Javier began, but you saw him hesitate to speak. He only nodded and turned on his heel before stepping over to the door and leaving swiftly. 

The moment Javier left your apartment, you couldn't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. You felt overwhelmed, sliding down the back of your front door after he had shut it, hands covering your face.

You felt guilty for kicking him out, and even regret it a little. Even though he told you he needed time, he looked so upset when you told him to leave. And what was he going to say just before exiting? Why did he stop himself?

You cried on the floor for god knows how long before making your way to your land-line, which sat on the side table next to the couch. You needed a friend- Connie- who usually made you feel better about the situation you're in.

The phone dial rang two times before someone answered. When you blubbered a somber greeting, you immediately recognized that Steve had answered when he questioned if you were alright. 

“Steve,” You bit your lip, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Can I speak to Connie?” 

“She’s asleep,” His southern accent spoke loudly through your receiver, “Are you sure you're fine?” 

you sighed heavily at his question, silent tears streaming down your face as you sat on the couch. You figured now would be the time to break the news. He’s become a close friend since meeting in Miami; both him and his wife. 

“Steve, I have something to tell you.” You began with a sniffle, “I-I’m pregnant…”

Your partner was silent for several moments before he finally spoke, “Jesus. Does Connie know?”

“Yes. She helped me find out, actually.” You wiped your eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm down your emotions. The distraction of Steve was helping, along with lifting a heavy weight off of your shoulder. But Javier still lingered on your mind; his displeased face haunting the back of your eyes every time you blinked. 

“Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Peña know too?” Steve then questioned, causing your heart to wrench. A new lump formed and a fresh set of tears began to fill your eyes, spilling down your cheeks.

“Javier knows,” Your voice cracked as you spoke, “He’s the father.”

“Oh,” The blonde's deep voice came across quiet through the receiver of your telephone, “I’m so sorry.”

--- 

Bullets ricocheted across the surrounding brick walls, nearly hitting you as you quickly jumped behind a barrier. You could hear your partner yelling in Spanish from the rooftops, as he had taken a separate route, while you quickly hid from the gunfire. 

Streams of silent curses left your lips, brick dust and chunks flying throughout the air from bullets. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, adrenaline pumping hotly, as you held your pistol in hand.

The gunfire finally stopped a handful of seconds later, but it was soon followed by the sound of a car peeling away down the street, causing you to peek over the wall. La Quica and Poison were gone and the street was empty due to the gunfire. 

“Shit,” You cursed just as your partner approached the brick wall you hid behind. 

“What the fuck were you doing?” Javier’s angry voice caused you to roll your eyes, reholstering your pistol before facing him.

“What?” You furrowed your brow in anger.

“You could've gotten hurt. You're not even wearin’ a fuckin’ vest.” He continued on, gesturing to the blouse donning your top. You merely stood and listened as he ranted. He never used to be this protective over you. Not even after you slept together and before you found out about your pregnancy. 

“Why the fuck did you chase them?”

“We could've had them if you hadn't taken the roof!” You yelled back, arm raising as you harshly poked him in the chest. 

Javier Immediately clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing towards your figure. You know he wanted to snap back vile words in return, but kept his composure. He couldn't bring himself to, not when you're pregnant, especially with his kid. He already made you draw the short straw, he didn’t need to cut it even smaller.

“Get your ass into the jeep.” He spoke through grit teeth, choosing to abandon the argument all together. You scoffed, kindling his temper even further. He needs a cigarette as soon as the two of you get back to the office.

-

“Peña told me about Poison and La Quica.” Steve’s southern drawl caused you to lift your head from staring at some paperwork.

“Did he also tell you about how he was a dumbass-”

“You need to get your head out of your ass, agent.” The blonde man spoke deadpan, cutting off whatever you were about to spew. He didn’t care, all he knew was that Javier had smoked four cigarettes in the span of an hour after you had gotten back. He finally confronted the man as to why the two of you were acting so off after your outing.

“Javier was scared. Though he may not act like it, he’s terrified of losing you- and the baby.” The man whispered the last part, knowing you haven’t told the rest of the office yet, “He admitted it to me just before I came to confront you. ”

You felt your heart clench, quickly averting your gaze from Steve, “I-I didn’t realize.”

“Peña may not have been the best choice to… procreate with. But, you’ve gotta throw him a bone.” Your partner mumbled softly, catching your attention once again.

“I’ll talk to him.” You swallowed with a nod, standing up from your desk.

-

“I’m sorry.” You immediately spoke once Javier had settled back at his desk. The man spent hours doing some meaningless task in the file room; most likely just to avoid you. “I haven’t been taking your feelings into account. I just… assumed you didn’t care.”

“I figured that was what you wanted.” Javier simply answered, eyes meeting your own. He leaned in his desk chair, arm draping over the backrest. 

“No-” You quickly yelped, feeling your face gather heat, “I mean…Can we talk in the conference room?” You then whispered, suddenly so aware of your coworkers and how silent the office seemed. Nobody's eyes were on you and Peña, but you could tell they had purposely stilled their movements to hear better. 

The man only gave you a simple nod, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Once the two of you had made it to the conference room, you quickly closed the door and blinds on the window-filled wall. The sensation of Javier's eyes on your back urged you to turn around. 

“First, I want to apologize for acting like such an ass out in the field. I'm used to only having to worry about myself, and I wasn't thinking about…” You trailed off, hand hovering over your belly, “I should've been vested. And followed you onto the roof.” You added, finally making eye contact with the man. 

He sat leaning against the conference table, arms folded which caused his biceps to bulge deliciously. You know if you weren't pregnant, he'd have a lit cigarette between his lips. 

“I want to apologize too. I shouldn’t have acted out. I-” He cut himself off, standing up straight now, “I care about you, and the kid.” He gestured to your belly, glancing down. You had the bump hidden quite well under a flowy blouse, but even just knowing it was there caused his heart to pick up speed.

Unable to stop the smile from growing across your cheeks, you dropped your head shyly. He had spoken such simple words, but they meant everything to you. Never did you expect for him to say he was sorry, as well as admit emotion. It almost made you hopeful- but you quickly had to shut down that feeling, not wanting to get disappointed or hurt. You know that nothing is going to come from this. Javier is nothing more than your baby’s father. He’s probably just apologizing to keep you happy.

You then cleared your throat and met his gaze once more, having properly discouraged yourself, “So, are we good?” 

“Yes.” He murmured.

You gave him one last nod before turning on your heel, approaching the door. Standing alone with him was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“Wait,” Javier interrupted your exit, grasping your bicep and pulling you back over to him. His other hand cupped your jaw in the process, pulling your gaze up to match his as his lips met your own with fervor.

Melting into the kiss, your arms grasped onto his shirt, pulling your chests taught. His arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up from your ass and quickling placing you onto the conference table just behind your bodies. Wrapping your legs around his figure, your hands moved up to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“God,” Javier groaned against your lips, hands fishing under your blouse. Your body reacted delightfully to his touch, only yearning for more. 

“Missed you,” You mumbled. Javier unhooked your bra and pulled it away from your chest, quickly cupping your breasts as soon as they hung freely. He could feel how swollen and full they’d gotten, only causing his mouth to water.

Javier then growled, fingers twisting your nipple softly, “I need to fuck you,” 

His statement caused your pussy to throb, but you quickly pushed him away, “Not in the office.”

“Why not?” He frowned, head twisting in question as he stepped backwards towards the door, locking it, “Just need to be quiet.”

 Biting your lip, your morals fought a losing battle as the man began unbuttoning his top and slowly stepping towards your seated figure. He returned to the same position he was before, securing your legs around his waist once more. He then guided your arms up, taking off your blouse, allowing your bra to fall off in the process.

You heard him softly groan at the sight of your breasts before he leaned over, lips meeting the delicate skin of your nipple, sucking and biting tenderly. Tossing your head back in pleasure, you felt as the man began to grind his hips into your own, hard cock pressing up uncomfortably against his tight jeans.

Reaching down, you rubbed him through the denim, causing him to falter in his movements, “Christ, hermosa,”

Finding the hem of your pants, the man slipped his hand in past your underwear feeling the full bush of your pussy before his fingertips met your clit. Accidentally moaning at the sensation, Javier quickly put his hand up to your mouth, covering it gently. Your arousal only caused his cock to throb harder. 

Unzipping his jeans, he freed himself and gave his dick a few pumps, grumbling lowly, “Gonna fuck you,”  

“Please,” You pleaded against his other hand, which was still covering your mouth. 

Lifting your ass up off of the table momentarily, the man slid your pants and underwear down, exposing your pussy for him to enjoy. Mouth watering at the sight, he dropped to his knees, quickly dipping his tongue deep into your core. Biting your lip to repress the sounds of pleasure you wanted to spew, your lower belly grew hot with pleasure as Javier sucked your clit harshly and slid two fingers in.

“Oh- God, Javi-” You whimpered, one of your hands lifting from the table and tangling into his hair. You could hardly see him over your pregnant belly, making the reach a little difficult. The man hummed against your pussy, pleased with how well you were responding to him. Recalling the last time you had sex, your bodies naturally seemed to understand each other perfectly; and it seems it’s happening this time as well.

With his tongue working expertly against your clit, your pussy clenched around his fingers. He could feel that you were getting close to coming, and picked up his pace in combination with sucking your little bundle of nerves more harshly. 

“Cum for me, cariño.” You heard Javier growl, just before you couldn’t take it anymore and felt your orgasm wash through your entire body.

The man wasted no time licking you clean before standing back up, quickly plunging his cock deep into heat. His hand covered your mouth once more, silencing the yelp of pleasure that was leaving your lips. Thrusting his hips, the man fucked you roughly on the conference table, causing it to shake with the movements. You could feel every inch as he did so, only adding to your pleasure.

Balancing your weight onto one hand, you moved the other down to your clit and rubbed feverishly, throwing your head back in pleasure. Clenching around the man's cock at the sensation, he groaned softly, faltering his thrusts slightly before continuing.

“Fuck you feel so fucking tight. If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d do it again.” He grumbled as one of his hands rested on your belly, helping move your body to the rhythm of his thrusts, “Your pussy feels that good.”

Your second orgasm caught you by surprise, the man's words luring you there quickly. Javier’s own orgasm followed closely behind, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking him thoroughly. His head tossed back in pleasure, continuing to thrust lazily until you both became too sensitive at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Javier cursed while tucking himself back into his jeans, still breathing heavily. His button-down remained open, deliciously showing off his gleaming, sweat covered chest. You paused at the sight, biting your lip, before slipping off the table and collecting yourself as well.

“We should get back to work,” You murmured, embarrassment slowly setting in, now realizing you just fucked Javier in a very inappropriate place. Anyone could’ve knocked on the door or windows; and what if it happened to be Steve or the Ambassador?

Instead of responding vocally, Javier only nodded, eyeing your frame up and down as he buttoned his shirt back up.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #javier pena smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

[fandoms--fluff]

Hellooooooo sorry to bother you but I have to request one of Hayley Marshall we’re she is pregnant with a second child with Klaus and Hope is so happy to be a big sister and don’t leave her mother said

A Second Miracle

Baby sister reader x Hope Mikaelson (plus Hayley + Klaus)

Warnings: nothing, just pure fluff

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Hayley and Klaus are sat on the couch, Hope on her dad's lap. "Momma's having a baby?" Hope has a smile on her face. Her parents had just told her how she's going to be a big sister.

"Mhm, in four months" Hayley grinned, showing Hope the baby bump that she's been hiding from her and all her aunts and uncles.

Ever since her parents gave her the news of the pregnancy, Hope's been with Hayley.

Hope's cuddling against Hayley's side, her head resting against her chest. "Is it a girl?" She asks, wide curious eyes looking up at the hybrid.

"We don't know yet, but we will soon" Hayley smiles, placing a kiss on the six year old's forehead.

"You better be a girl" Hope bends her head down to Hayley's bump and whispers.

Hayley smiles, shaking her head, being able to hear what she was saying. She wraps an arm around her daughter, cuddling her.

Hope holds her Daddy's hand as they walk out of the bakery. They walked to the bakery that's 5 minutes away from the abboiter, getting a box of beignets.

When they get back home, they walk into the library where Hayley is seated on the dark leather couch. Her right hand resting on her large 9 month bump as her other hand is holding her book up.

Hope immediately let's go of Klaus' hand and runs over to her mommy. She climbs onto the couch and gives Hayley a cuddle. Hayley puts her book down, hugging the six year old back.

"Hey baby girl, what have you two been up to?" She smiles, having noticed that there weren't interruptions from her book by either the excited daughter or overbearing and protective father.

"We thought you might want something sweet. Considering the grumbling you were giving the pantry" Klaus smirks at the he receives from Hayley for the last statement.

He walks over, opening the box to Hayley. She grabs one of the beignets for herself and passes one to Hope. "Thank you. And I'm going to pretend you didn't already have loads of sugar with your father" Hayley sends a pointed look to the two other people in the room.

Hope giggles as she bites into hers, meanwhile Klaus has a faux offended look on his face.

Hayley smirks before biting into her own beignet, moaning at how good actual sugar tastes. Ever since Elijah went shopping for food, all she's seen have had the word healthy on the label or something around those lines.

Hope smiles, used to her mommy and daddy bickering. She leans against the baby bump. She can't wait till she has someone else to endure these times with and to play with. Uncle Kol, Auntie Freya, and her can teach her little sister how to make flowers bloom, and how much fun it is to be a witch.

She doesn't care if everyone keeps telling her there's a chance it can be a boy. She knows it's going to be a girl, she's going to have a little sister!

Hayley sits on her and Klaus' bed, you in her arms.

In good news, there wasn't any horrible birth where she died, and was in immense pain. It went a lot smoother this time around. Even if getting pregnant wasn't planned...again.

Hope crawls onto the bed, a bright smile on her face. She knew she was going to be getting a baby sister.

"Y/n" she whispered, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mhm, that's right. You're officially a big sister, baby girl" Hayley kisses Hope's forehead. She snuggles into her Momma's side, finger curling around your tiny hand. She watches as your small hand wraps around it. Her smiles grows bigger than before.

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