#and!! i have an eye doctor’s appointment later!!

[mongoosingisme]

Title: Operation: Doctor Support

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Relationship: Harvey/fem!Reader

Summary: The doctor spent all his time looking after other people. It was about time someone did something for him.

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Harvey looked tired.

You noticed it at the saloon as you were finishing a beer. It’d been a long day. Long week. Long month? It was all blurring together. Hauling pumpkins, seeing to the cows, chopping wood because winter was just around the corner. You earned your beer, is the thing.

Harvey looked like he’d earned a dozen.

He was the closest thing you had to a friend here in Stardew Valley. You’d bonded over being from elsewhere, over loving good coffee, over shared tastes in movies (Jackie Chan, of all things). Mostly it was just nice to know that when you got a little over-enthusiastic with the scythe you could trust the person who was patching you up. Dependable Harvey, always there to lend a hand.

You were glad you didn’t need any help that night, though, watching him in his booth. He was leaning over a bowl of pumpkin soup, head in a hand, eyes shadowed. His hair was messier than usual, tie crooked.

“How’s it going?” you said by way of greeting as you slid in across from him.

“Oh, hello there.” He seemed to brighten a bit upon seeing you, which sparked a bit of warmth in his stomach. “Just trying to get a meal in before I get back at it.”

“Back at what? It’s 7pm.”

“Audit.” He grimaced.

“Audit? Doctors get audited?”

“Doctors get audited. Gotta make sure all the billing codes are…” he waved a hand, trying to find the word.

“Up to code?”

He smiled. Score one for your bad jokes. “Exactly. I have to get reports together for tomorrow afternoon, but I had some last minute appointments come up for tomorrow morning, and Maru’s been out for a few days, and then there’s cold and flu season starting to ramp up, so…” he waved his hand again.

“Busy Harvey?”

“Busy Harvey.” He let a long breath. “But, needs must and all. So I better get back to it.” He started to get up.

“Aren’t you going to finish your soup?”

He shrugged. “Not that hungry. Enjoy your evening.” You watched him get up and leave. Or at least try to. Marnie stopped him halfway to the door, waved him over, showed him something on her arm. Was she… was she asking him to look at a mole?

As much as you admired his willingness to stop and chat, you couldn’t shake a flash of annoyance. The doctor spent all his time looking after other people. It was about time someone did something for him.

—————

Operation: Doctor Support launched a few days later. It was late Saturday afternoon. You’d finished your scheduled chores (and a dozen more besides), taken a shower, dressed comfortably, and assembled your toolkit.

One jar of pickles.

One container of homemade curry chicken soup (your specialty).

One loaf of sourdough bread.

One bottle of blueberry wine.

One DVD (Drunken Master, obviously).

One knit hat. You hand knit it. It looked… hand knit. But you’d tried, dammit.

You pulled your kit together in a bag and headed towards town.

Twenty minutes later you were gazing up at Harvey’s apartment. The door to the clinic was locked, and you didn’t see him in the saloon or Pierre’s. You were contemplating picking up a pebble to throw at his window when you heard a familiar voice.

��Good afternoon!” It was Harvey, coming back from a walk if his reddened cheeks were any indication (it was a cold day, even for November).

“Just the man I’m looking for. Voila!” You brandished the bag.

“Fernald’s Country Store,” he said slowly, reading the words on the outside of the tote.

“No, no, it’s inside the bag. Let me up, I’ll show you.”

“Fair enough.”

The walk seemed to have done Harvey good. His eyes seemed a little brighter than when you last saw him, at least. He unlocked the clinic and you led the way to his apartment.

It was a space you were comfortable with, having been there several times in the past to watch movies and drink coffee. With the late afternoon darkening it was hard to see, but you knew where to feel for the light switch.

Moving past the bookshelves and a line of model planes, you made for the kitchen. Harvey followed, a slightly amused look on his face.

“You’re a lady on a mission.”

“I am! Announcing Operation: Doctor Support!”

“Operation… what?”

But you were too busy unpacking, showcasing each item as you pulled it out of the bag, doing your best gameshow announcer voice. “We have…. A bottle of wine! A jar of pickles! A loaf of bread! A container of soup! A DVD! And a hat.” You dropped the affect for the last one. The hat looked particularly mediocre in the fluorescent kitchen light. You looked up at him. “I made you a hat.”

Harvey looked back at you, lips slightly parted. “You made me… a hat?”

“Um, yes.”

“And you brought me dinner?”

“And a movie,” you added helpfully. You couldn’t quite read his tone.

“And a movie,” he repeated, stepping closer to the items you had fanned out on the counter. He reached for the hat first. Rubbed the wool between his fingers. Picked it up and settled it on his head. It didn’t look so bad, with his brown waves springing out from beneath it. “No one’s ever made me a hat before.”

“I’m glad I got to be your first.” You noticed the slightest tinge of a blush on his cheeks, though that may have been left over from his walk.

“Thank you.” He said. “Really. Thank you. What brought all this on?”

You shrug. “You seemed like you could use a little taking care of.”

And before you could register the movement, Harvey’s arms were around you, wrapping you in a hug. You did what you could to hug him back, but with the way he was trapping your arms by your side the best you could do was pat the curve of his back. “Thank you,” he said again, voice the slightest bit tight. You could feel his breath soft on the side of your face.

You didn’t move, just stayed there, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you, the faint scent of something clean and woodsy coming from his sweater. He was warm, solid, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose into the side of his neck. Just a little.

“You’re welcome, Harvey. You deserve it.”

He took in a deep, slightly shaky breath, then let you go. For a second you wished he didn’t, but then shook yourself. Clapped your hands. “Right. Dinner. You go sit down and relax while I get this heated up!”

“Aye aye, captain,” he responded with a mock salute. He was still wearing the hat as he settled in on the couch.

Dinner was easy to heat up, and you were pleased with how the soup came out. You started the movie while you ate, turning down the lights, sharing bits of trivia as Jackie Chan stumbled around his enemies. It was so comfortable, then, to lean against him on the couch in the semi-darkness, both of you holding a glass of wine. He put his arm on the back of the couch as you leaned against his chest.

You could feel his heart beating, faster than you would think it would.

And it made you wonder about phase two of Operation: Doctor Support.

Phase two was optional, only if it seemed right. It might change things a little, you knew. It was a little risky, but some things were worth the risk.

Some things like the doctor next to you, whose nose was very subtly, very gently rubbing against your hair.

Okay. That’s going to count as a green light. Let’s do this.

You placed your wine glass on the side table. Took Harvey’s and set it down too. He looked at you a little startled at your unexpected movement, but oh boy, you were just getting started. You rolled up onto your knees, swung a leg over his, and settled, facing him, into his lap.

His hands came up automatically to hold your hips, then just as quickly left them. “I… what?”

“Commence phase two,” you said, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

At first he didn’t move, just made a slightly choked sound and your stomach sank. Shit. Should have just stuck with the hat. But then his hand was on the side of your face and he was kissing you back. Soft, gentle presses of his lips against yours. His thumb traced along your cheekbone as you pressed your mouth into his, humming contentedly.

“Are you… are… really?” he breathed as you broke the kiss.

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“If I… hah,” he laughed softly, leaning his head back against the couch. You took the opportunity to press a kiss to the pulse point you could see thrumming on the side of his neck. He gasped, hips bucking up against yours just a little, hand moving back into your hair. “I… I certainly wouldn’t say I minded.”

“Good, now let me take care of you.”

There was no mistaking the low groan he made at that, or the way his lap was shifting under you. You set in properly this time, rising up on your knees to reach his mouth again. This time you parted your lips, felt yourself clenching slightly at the way he opened for you easily, moaning softly as you slicked into his mouth. His mustache tickled at your nose as you kissed him, and his hands had found their way back to your hips. They rested there loosely, not pushing, just holding as you delved deeper into him.

He tasted like blueberry wine.

You broke the kiss with a soft nip to his lower lip. “How are you feeling?”

“A little stunned, but good, good, definitely very good,” and now his hand was in your hair, pulling you back to him, and that was absolutely the kind of response you were looking for. You hummed into the kiss, trying to fight your pleased smile as he licked into you. You wiggled in his lap and enjoyed the way he hissed through his nose.

The bulge you could feel under your thighs didn’t hurt either.

“Good is good,” you gasp, breaking away again, “but we’re going for excellent. Here.” You removed his hand from your hair, dragged it down to your breast.

“That…” he gasped. “That certainly elevates things.” And before you could respond, before you could realize, really, what was going on, you were on your back and Harvey, dear, sweet, gentle, reliable Doctor Harvey was raised up over you, propped up on one elbow, one leg tucked between your thighs.

“Oh,” was all you could think to say.

Harvey didn’t say anything. He was too busy laving your neck with his tongue, leaving soft, gentle bites while his fingers worked over your breast, gently teasing your rapidly hardening nipple.

Well that… that’s not how the operation was supposed to go. But Yoba, it felt good, his body heavy over you, his teeth and tongue scraping over your neck, the soft sounds he made as he worked. You pulled the hat off his head, ran your fingers through his hair, held him there.

In your mind he had stayed put, letting you slowly work down his body before finishing with the best damn blow job he’d ever been given. But now the opposite was happening, he was kissing down onto your chest now and fuck, if this wasn’t so, so much better. You couldn’t help but cry out as he mouthed at your nipple through your shirt. He looked up quickly at the sound. Even in the dim light of the TV, even through his glasses you could see that his eyes were blown dark.

“Is it… is that okay? Is this alright?”

“Harvey, it’s fucking perfect,” you say. He grinned, shockingly boyish, and why had you never done this before? You pulled off his glasses, set them back in the side table behind you, and guided his mouth back down. He went eagerly, fingers now working up beneath your shirt, mouth now over your other breast, mouthing and teasing. You felt it in your core, the way his fingers traced over your stomach, the sounds he made as he nuzzled you, and why is this stupid shirt on anyway?

You did your best to wiggle it up over your torso, bralette too, Harvey helping as soon as he realized what you were doing. After he tossed the clothing aside he paused for a second, looking down at you.

“You’re… Yoba.” He let out a shaky laugh. “This is not how I expected my evening to go”

“Me either.”

He drew back slightly. “What do you mean?”

You wound your arm up around his shoulder, pulled him back down onto you. His lips brushed the side of your neck. “You were supposed to sit still and let me do all this for you.”

“What,” he asked, hand now cupping your breast, “makes you think that this isn’t for me?”

You didn’t have a good answer for that. Didn’t have a good answer for anything, really, because his hand was wandering lower and all rational thought had left your brain.

Was he… fuck, yes he was. He stopped at the waistband of your leggings, traced a finger along the edge. You felt him swallow against your neck. “Can… can I?”

“Yes, yup, absolutely, one hundred percent,” you respond, fighting the urge to grab his hand and guide it down for him. “Just, wait, here.” You grabbed at the sweater he was wearing instead, tried to get it up over his head. He maneuvered, helping to take it off the rest of the way (so helpful, that Harvey), then settled back down on top of you.

You couldn’t help but sigh, wiggle your hips as his warm chest nestled back against yours. His chest was broad, arms just a little thicker than what you could see under his usual suit jacket. Curly hair dusted down over his softly rounded stomach, down to where his belt cut across his hips.

“You feel nice,” you said.

“So do you.” He hummed into your neck.

The couch wasn’t particularly wide, but you were making it work, nestled between the doctor and the cushions. His hand was back on your stomach, drifting lower as you ran your fingers over his shoulders and dropped kisses on the top of his head. His fingers traced the top of your leggings - again - the light touch making your lower stomach clench. You realized you were growing wet, could feel it as you shifted your hips back and forth, and okay, this was supposed to be your show, right? Let’s get it on the road.

You placed your hand over Harvey’s, guided it down under your leggings and underwear, pressed down on his middle finger to run it through your folds.

“Fuck,” he gasped. You could feel his hips thrust, that hard bulge against your legs, once, twice. “Fuck, you’re… fuck.” And he didn’t need any more guidance, seemed perfectly happy to be running the pad of his fingers up and down your sex. The lack of resistance, the way his fingers slipped - shit, okay, clearly phase two absolutely needed this step, what were you thinking, because he was shuddering just a bit as he pressed his face into your neck. And the way his breaths were coming, slightly choked?

Yoba.

“I want to make you come.” He said it so softly, mustache tickling the side of your neck. “Can I make you come?”

What a ridiculously sweet thing to ask as his fingers were already stroking over your folds. “I don’t think there’s much question about it at this point,” you said. “Don’t stop.”

He huffed into your neck, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and his fingers were focusing more on your clit, tiny circles but it wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t get the right angle with your leggings trapping his hand. “Let me just-“ you start, but he was right there with you, helping you pull them down and off. From there it was easy to throw a leg up over his hip as he curled back around you.

His fingers were back, then, back and moving, sending coils of tension up through your core. He set about his work with purpose, as it seemed he set about most things. Tracing his fingers up and down the side of your clit, stopping when he hit a point that made your hips buck up.

“Right there, he whispered, “that’s it, right there.” And holy shit, how could you respond to that when he’d discovered a direct line from your clit through your core to the rest of your body? Those tiny circles again, the lightest pressure, the curls of pleasure spreading through your thighs, your stomach, your shoulders. You could feel your self getting wetter now, slipperier as his fingers worked against you.

And from there it wasn’t long before you were rising, hips straining, mouth open in a wordless cry as his fingers, his hand, his breath against your neck was too much. You stayed tensed there, muscles straining, orgasm rocketing through you as those fingers kept rubbing, kept circling, kept drawing you up and up and up, tense and sweet and endless, Yoba, it was endless, that tension, until finally it broke, letting you down, warm and soft and deep through your belly and you were through, hips relaxing, shoulders boneless as you melted back into the couch.

Holy shit.

Harvey’s fingers had slowed, stopped. His hand cupped your sex. “Alright?”

You covered your face with a hand. Laughed. “Alright? Are you joking? I am so much better than alright!” He laughed into your neck. You swat him gently on the shoulder. “That was supposed to be for you!”

“Again,” he said. “What makes you think this wasn’t for me?”

Yoba, this man.

But no. You were a lady on a mission, and if you were the type to take half-measures you’d still be sitting in a cubicle. “Okay,” you said. “Move.”

“Move?” You were shaking off the post-orgasm slack, wiggling out from under him, helping him haul his body up to sitting, sliding down to the floor, enjoying the sound he made as you ghosted your hand over the bulge near his crotch. You could see it there, outlined against his jeans, and fuck if the sight didn’t make you more determined than ever. You knelt there for a moment, palm pressed against that bulge, rubbing softly through the denim.

You could see his belly rising, even as you focused on his crotch. Could hear him taking in breaths, choking slightly on the exhale. Could feel his hand rest gently on the side of your neck, lift back up, settle back in again.

“You don’t… you don’t have to…”

“Harvey,” you said, looking up at him. His head was leaning back on the couch, but there was no question he was watching you. Lips parted, chest rising. “Let me look after you. Just for a bit. Please.”

He closed his lips. Nodded. Stroked his thumb down your cheek. “Thank you.”

You smiled up at him, resting your hand on his belt buckle. “What makes you think this isn’t for me?”

He huffed again, that sound of his, that laugh and groan, and lifted his hips as you unbuckled, unzipped, guided his pants and boxers down around his feet, leaving his cock to spring free.

If you’d been in a more coherent frame of mind you would have reflected on the sight, the incongruity of seeing the doctor, always so polished, shirts ironed and tie done up tight, splayed out for you like that. Cock pulsing, wet around the tip, thick and long and utterly perfect. The way his head was leaning back again on the sofa, huffing breaths between pursed lips, looking tense and needy and exactly the opposite of the brisk and efficient man you knew.

But you weren’t in a coherent state of mind, so the only thing you thought was “yum.”

You watched a small pearl of precum leak from the head of his cock.

You licked it away. Salty and hot.

Harvey hissed.

You licked again, running your tongue around his head, closed your lips around the tip, circling. You could feel his hand touch your hair as you did it, touch and let go. You grabbed at it, anchored it down onto your head. Grinned to yourself as he choked out another moan, hips bucking up an inch and then grounding back down.

Show time.

You’d be lying if you said that you were the most seasoned giver of head, but based on Harvey’s reactions you doubted that was much of an issue. You grasped the base of his cock, squeezed gently, then with a little more pressure as he moaned. Loosening your jaw as best as you could (he wasn’t a small man, that doctor, and his cock was certainly proportional), you slid your lips down, hollowing your cheeks, meeting the top off your fist.

Harvey’s fingers were in your hair properly now, carding through the strands, not pushing you down but holding you there, holding on as you drew your mouth up and down his cock. You could feel the strain in his hips, tiny little jerks upwards, tensing as he held himself back. You wanted to tell him to go for it, to buck and move however he wanted, but his cock was so good, so heavy and hot and delicious in your mouth that you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go.

So you did what you could to work him deeper. Sucking him in further, grasping with your thumb and two fingers now, relishing the hitch in his hips, the way his fingers tightened, the sounds he was making low in his throat. The tiny thrusts growing less measured, most staccato, off kilter and speeding up. He was tasting saltier as you tried to work him farther back into your mouth, suddenly desperate to know what he’d feel like hitting the back of your throat. You relaxed as much as you could, let yourself fall down into him, gusting through your nose as you welcomed him back, back, further, deeper -

And all of his sudden his hands were clenching into your hair, pulling you up a your mouth flooded with warm, thick, salty release. You’d fully intended to swallow what he gave you, but he was pulling you off of him as he came, hand joining your fingers on his cock, pumping once, twice as he came onto your chin and open mouth.

The sound he made was exactly what you’d been hoping for. Low, wrecked. His fingers working through your hair as you felt him loosen, melt back into the couch.

You looked him in the eye. Ran a finger up your chin to collect the thick spend dripping there. Pushed it in your mouth and swallowed.

“Yoba,” he rasped, “Yoba, you’re… fuck, you’re incredible. Fuck.” And it was easy, then, to follow the press of his hands, now under your arms, pulling you up to him. Straddle his legs again, feeling his cock, still hot and wet and heavy, under your thighs. Let him wrap his arms around you, kiss you deeply, tasting himself on you.

“How are you feeling now?” You asked as you broke this kiss.

“Indescribable,” was his breathless response.

And as you relaxed into his arms you decided that your mission was very much a success.

[boomerang109]

everyone applaud for past boom’s sense of time

[demento-mori]

I cant tell if my eyesight is fucked or if im still hungover

[sl33py-g4m3r]

had an eye doctor appointment since the one last year~~

my vision hasn't changed I think~~ is what they said.

insurance let me get new frames and lenses this year~~ so now I'll have 2 of the same prescription to wear~~

found some frames that match the pastel aesthetic i have going on, and the lens tint I have will work really well with them~~~

in bad news I've got a cataract in my good eye now~~~ as one of the nurses or someone helping me with glasses said "welcome to adulthood" so I guess that just happens huh?

if they ever wanted to operate on it; it'll be a last resort, so that hopefully nothing makes me lose the only vision that I have~~

hopefully it's not a fast growing one and messes with my vision really bad~~ :(

I don't want to lose what little vision I have~~~ I couldn't play video games anymore~~~ :(

I hope I'm not taking my vision for granted~~ I hope I'm not~~~ idek what that means tho right off hand~~

there's so much awesome stuff to see~~ sunsets, sun rises, clouds, rain, the plants that you're growing getting slowly bigger~~~ your sibling's adorably photogenic cat~~~~

I couldn't dream of losing the entirety of my vision :((((((

anxiety didn't get to me cause I finally took an "as needed" propranolol before the appointment~~~ and things went fine~~~

[trees-to-meet-you]

Have to go out without my sunglasses bc it’s dark now if anyone looks at me even once I will kill myself right here and now

[kashverse]

i can imagine babygirl sukuna getting new sonny angels after every doctors appointment or dressing up her labubus just to hang it on sukunas briefcase😭

and i would also like to add my own two cents :)

you’d think that with the vast amount of options sukuna presents to his little princess every time he asks what she wants—be it the most expensive toys, a pony, her own personal theme park—she would switch it up. kids are fickle, right? but no. every birthday. every holiday. every random tuesday where sukuna just felt like spoiling her. the little one sits, focuses hard—her tiny brows furrowing like she’s making the most important decision of her life—before wisely declaring:

"i want sonny angel."

or, sometimes:

"i want labubu."

but never anything else.

sukuna, for all his power, for all his wealth, for all his influence, is powerless against the sheer determination of his daughter’s love for small, beady-eyed figurines.

it all comes to a head one fateful morning. sukuna, a man of routine, wakes up early, stretches, and heads to his closet. he reaches for his socks, slides one on without a second thought—

—only for his foot to crunch.

he freezes. slowly, cautiously, he lifts his socked foot and shakes it.

a sonny angel falls out. sukuna yells.

not just any yell. a battle cry of terror. his daughter, still half-asleep in bed, peeks out from under the covers, blinking groggily.

"…papa?"

"there was a thing in my sock," he hisses, gripping the offending figurine like it personally insulted him. she gasps. "angel!"

"yeah, well, this angel nearly gave me a heart attack!"

his daughter frowns, marching over and snatching the sonny angel from his grasp. she cradles it in her tiny hands, scandalized. "papa," she scolds. "he was cold."

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "oh, for fuck’s sake—"

"bad word!" she yells.

he sighs, long and suffering. "fine. go put your little demon back with the others."

but as his daughter scurries away to return the sock angel to its rightful home, he realizes something. where, exactly, are the others?

"'kuna," you call from your room a few minutes later, "why are my sephora products in a military standoff?"

sukuna walks in to find your vanity under siege.

dozens—dozens—of sonny angels and labubu figures have been arranged in an army formation around your makeup collection, as if fiercely guarding it from intruders. his daughter stands proudly in front of them, arms crossed. "they keep mama safe," she explains.

you nod slowly. "right. and the one in my drawer?"

"he’s a spy," she says, dead serious.

sukuna snorts. but before he can make a joke, she turns to him, narrowing her eyes.

"papa."

he quirks a brow. "what?"

"say sorry to angel."

he groans. "are you—"

"say sorry."

he stares at her. then at the beady-eyed sonny angel she’s holding up expectantly. he exhales through his nose.

"…sorry."

his daughter beams. "good papa." you pat his shoulder. "proud of you, babe."

he grumbles under his breath as he leaves the room, only to find choso standing in the hallway, having witnessed everything. choso simply nods. "they are kinda cute," he mutters.

sukuna slams the door in his face.

[ttjisung]

BABY l. jeno

camboy!lee jeno x fem!reader

in which jeno finds it easier to destress himself on stream, that is until you catch him

cw: MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, squirting, another haechan feature cause i want him lowkey, generally inappropriate things lol idk how else to describe it! this wasn't proof read so beware of spelling mistakes (wc: 3k)

If you were to be asked, you’d confidently describe your relationship with Lee Jeno as trustworthy – loyal, even. Yet the truth was that Jeno had a secret he had been keeping for years now, one so outlandish it sounds straight out of a girl’s wet dream. It wasn’t that he thought you’d judge him, he just worried you’d ask him the origins of his secret, and he’d have to explain that it became his channel to take out some stress because of you.

Jeno’s secret was simple and straightforward – for the past year or two, he’d hide out at his apartment every weekend alone, turning on his web-camera and becoming a new identity. He hated calling himself a camboy, seeing it as an impeachment on his own self. Camboy felt too official, he was just a horny young adult looking for a way to let it out. That being said, what complicated the situation was that you were the cause of his need to do so. All of the times you’d compliment him after he’d send a workout selfie, so oblivious to the gym roleplay he’d act out later on, wishing his hand was you in tight shorts and a sports bra. Even something so innocent as saying his hair was cute had him thrusting into his palm and pulling on his own hair in the late hours, acting like it was you in front of him, instead of the hundreds of nameless accounts that would flood his chat. 

Jeno swore he’d get away with his little double-life, knowing you’d be caught in a grave before HotLonelyStuds. That’s why his own world came crashing down on himself during a hangout, when Lee Haechan approached him privately, an evil grin on his obnoxious face. “I have a confession.” The way he stated it seemed genuine, yet the way his eyes glinted towards the older male let him know his intentions were anything but. 

“Go ahead.” “Head? I’m sure that’s what you want, Dr. Lee.” Jeno’s heart dropped at the implication behind the sentence, way too specific to pass as a normal sexual innuendo. It was only when Haechan opened his phone up to his Twitter likes, already flooded with several homemade pornos, pointing out the most recent. Jeno wasn’t even aware that people were reuploading his clips – he swore it was a privacy breach, not allowed on the website he used. He recognized the specific stream, a night where he felt particularly needy. You had told him about a physical you received at your latest doctors’ appointment, and his fantasies ran wild. Admittedly, it wasn’t normal to feel so horny because of something so simple, yet as soon as he imagined himself on top of you, stripping you slowly on a patient’s bed, there was no going back. Albeit weird, he swore there was nothing special about the clip until Haechan clicked on it, of course he did. 

“Fuck… Need you so bad, baby. Let Dr. Lee take care of you.” Jeno’s voice was hoarse, ringing from above as his camera panned down to his cock that was already out of his white dress pants and leaking in his hand. He flicked his wrist gently, agonizingly slow, taking his time and imagining it was your small, delicate hand instead. In his daze, his thumb unconsciously ran over his tip, forcing a gasp out of his throat, alongside an uncontrolled small whisper of your name. The whisper was so light, it could easily be played off as an incoherent moan to anyone else, yet Haechan (who swore up and down that Jeno was in love with you) begged to differ.

“Why did you even watch all of it to find that out, perv.” Jeno’s first response was defense, trying to play it off and even pass the shame onto Haechan. What he should’ve taken into account was that if there was one word to describe the male, it’d be shameless. “Eh, ‘was bored. What matters here is you, Dr. Lee, and your infatuation with a little someone-” 

“Who?” You spoke up behind the two, frowning at the way Haechan jumped up and immediately turned his phone off. “Hey, I wanna see.” You whined, saddened at the fact that you were out of the loop. “It was porn.” Haechan was quick to yell out, patting Jeno on the back and rushing back into the living room. 

“Were you actually watching that stuff, Jen? I don’t care but like… You told me you don’t.” The disdain in your voice assured Jeno about one thing – you could never know the truth. Not only would it freak you out, he felt as though you’d be offended that he’s been lying to you about how truly sexual he is. Being the only two of your friend group that didn’t continuously sleep around, you felt even more connected with him when he’d back you up, telling you it’s normal to be reserved at your age; making you think he relates, when the truth was that as soon as you’d go home and his lights would turn off, his camera would turn on. 

“No, of course not baby. He was just being weird.” The way the familiar nickname rolled out of his mouth smoothly assured you, and you simply nodded with a small grin. “What were you up to before Hyuck flashed you?” You giggled at your own word choice, moving away from Jeno to open the fridge. “Not much, ‘was honestly waiting for you to realize I was gone and look for me.” For some reason, an unusual feeling of unease washed over him at your reaction to his words. You took it lightly, like you take everything. No matter how shamelessly he’d flirt with you, you’d always just smile and look away until the conversation would stray elsewhere. He was sick of acting like it didn’t affect him to see you dismiss him so easily, yet he supposed it was partly his fault, as he never clarified that he meant what he said – you probably just assumed he didn’t. 

“Wanna escape to my place? I’m honestly a bit bored.” Jeno wasn’t bored, he just wanted you all to himself, truthfully. “Sorry, Jen. I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m only halfway done. I was about to head out. Maybe another time?” He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with a shaky breath. Embarrassed from your reoccuring denial, he decided he’d go home anyway.  He had a new idea for a stream anyway, one that projected your relationship as loudly as the rest. It never hurts to do an extra video or two, knowing the pocket change he’d make could serve to take you out for a pastry. 

Tonight, the roles were reversed on HotLonelyStuds, as Jeno’s hand stroked himself quickly, moaning at the sensation. “Take it, fuck. Take it all. Rejecting me when you know you want me? Could’ve been us right now, baby.” His words were muffled, his teeth gritting in an unnaturally stressed way as his other hand reached his throat, pressing harshly. This stream was particularly rough, and although he’d refuse, Jeno knew the true reasoning behind his labored actions. He knew the truth was that he was sick of you ignoring him, when he was always there. Every time you’d complain about your lack of experience, every time you’d cry to him about feeling immature, he wanted to scream in your face that he’s right here! He always has been right there, pliant and willing to help you overcome your inexperience. 

The frustration built more and more, and before Jeno knew it he had come twice, painting his already covered abs white. On his third, he was too immersed to notice the familiar jingle of your spare key – the one he had given you as soon as he moved into his new apartment, letting you know you were welcome any time. 

Clearly, that might’ve not been the case as a loud gasp escaped you. Not bothering to knock on Jeno’s bedroom door, not even having heard his loud groans, you were welcomed with the sight of his heavy dick in his hands, upper body completely bare. Jeno’s eyes were held shut with pleasure until he recognized a stream of light on him that hadn’t been there before, the buzz of his hallway lamp amplifying the already-deafening silence that the two of you shared as you finally made eye contact. In shock, Jeno couldn’t bring himself to cover up. It wasn’t until you shrieked and ran out of the room that he pulled his pants back up, shutting the stream off with no explanation and running after you.

“Baby… I swear it’s not what you think-” “I know what I saw, Jen…” Your frown was making him panic, and he felt tears brimming in his eyes at your words. He was so fucked. “I just… Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t care-” “That’s the problem!” Sick of ignoring the obvious, he moved next to you, holding both your wrists in desperation. “You never care. Fuck, you don’t even care right now that you saw my dick out. Even less, that it was because of you.” His words sparked confusion in you, understanding what he was saying but refusing to believe what he insinuated. Surely, Lee Jeno hadn’t been fucking himself in front of a camera because of you. How would that even work?

“I don’t even care anymore, either, Y/n. Don’t care that you caught me, because maybe at least for those three seconds that you saw me, you might’ve had a small part of you in your head saying it’s hot.” “I don’t get it, Jen.” “Yes, you do.”

It wasn’t until you felt Jeno’s breath on your face that you realized how close he had truly gotten, and it was only when he grabbed your wrists that you realized, maybe it doesn’t feel so bad to be held by him like that.

Against your better judgement, your next action was brash as you cupped his face, pulling him in towards yours. The kiss was messy, Jeno’s teeth biting your lips until they began to feel sore. His arm snaked behind your back, lessening the space between you until there was nothing. “Gonna show you what I’ve been doing, baby. All for you.” “W-wait, Jen.” Before he could even push you onto the couch behind you, you pulled away. With every step you took, Jeno’s heart broke more, and his anger grew. Who were you to kiss him, and then reject him not even a minute later? 

In his fury, Jeno failed to realize what you were truly doing until your hand found his and you led him back to his room. His mind became foggy once he saw you approach his computer, searching for something. “Where is it, Jen?” “Where’s what, baby?” “The camera.” At your words, his eyes widened. There was no way you were really doing what he thought you were doing. There was no way you were going to let him fuck you in front of his viewers. 

Feeling as though the opportunity would pass at any second, Jeno jumped up quickly, gently pushing you aside to open the website and program the webcam to turn on. Soon after, the red flickering light on his computer confirmed the fact that it was on, and his hands were back on you, sliding down towards the back of your thighs and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss grew heavy once more, Jeno so focused that he didn’t even give context to his viewers who had never seen him with another girl before. Had he read the chat though, he’d be pleasantly surprised to see the positive feedback. Maybe he would’ve even seen Haechan’s texts that were flooding his phone. WTF? I TOLD YOU, YOU WHORE, that quickly progressed into encouragement, fuckk dude, lift her shirt up a bit, always wanted to see her pretty tits.

Unknowingly, Jeno fed into Haechan’s perversions as he also grew tired of the fabric holding you back from him. His big hands held onto your waist before lifting you up and turning you around, so you’d be sitting on his lap facing towards the camera instead of him. The light whimpers you’d let out at his every move gained traction from the chat, who were now spamming comments asking Jeno to fuck the shit out of you. Well, who was he to deny his fans?

You felt Jeno’s lips attach to your neck, as well as his long fingers slipping under your shirt, cupping your bare tits. He hated the fact that you never wore a bra near him, leaving little to his imagination when he wasn’t allowed to touch you. A shit-eating grin replaced his focused expression as he heard your breath hitch when he finally pinched your nipple, stopping for a second to effortlessly rip your shirt off over your head. Now exposed and riddled with goosebumps, Jeno sucked harder, leaving blemishes and marks all over your shoulder. His hands tweaked each nipple, pulling harder to draw more reactions from you.

This time, instead of a gasp, you simply grinded down on him out of instinct, the feeling finally pulling a moan from Jeno’s own throat. His chest still bare from when you had walked in on him earlier, pressed against your back as he held you close, pulling your little shorts off alongside your panties in one swift move. 

You were embarrassingly wet, hating yet loving the way Jeno stared at you through the screen of his own computer. He watched you with hunger in his eyes, as if he was going to devour you, and the worst part is that you began to like the idea. 

Your eyes shut close as you felt his fingers run down your slit, wetting them before he bullied two into you at once. You winced from the pain, not having time to recover before Jeno was thrusting in and out of you. His frustrations escaping him in the form of passion as his other hand planted gentle circles to your clit. Your cunt began to clench around him, a pit in your stomach forming as you let out moan after moan. It was only when he added another finger that you squirmed, the pit fully dropping. The shock on Jeno’s face was evident as a clear liquid covered both you and him once you came. Never in his life would he have expected you to squirt. He didn’t let out though, continuing to thrust his fingers in you until you fully rode out your high, clawing at his hands from the overstimulation.

Although he stopped, the breath you were catching got stuck in your throat once you felt something much larger than his fingers prodding at your cunt. He was big – honestly not a shock to you, who always heard him brag to the rest of your friends before he swore celibacy in solidation with you. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tip pulsing in you, or his strong arms wrapping around you to hold your inner thighs, spreading you out to the camera, full pussy on display.

Hearing your gasps, Jeno stopped to let you adjust, yet it didn’t last long as you clenched around him. Albeit slower than he wanted to, he entered inch by inch until his cock was fully enveloped by your heat. You felt so good, how he knew you would. 

“‘Gonna move now, baby. Hold on to me.” You nodded although your eyes were painfully squeezing close. Jeno couldn’t take the slow pace as he thrusted in and out gently, and you granted his wish as you looked up towards his direction. “Y-you can move, Jen.” His moan was loud as he finally bottomed out, not nearly in as much control over his actions as he was before.

As soon as your pained whimpers shifted to soft gasps, he finally sped up, holding onto your thighs with a bruising grip. His moans were muffled as he whined into your neck. You felt every ridge and vein on his cock, stuffed deep inside of your cunt. Looking at the computer’s display, you felt yourself clench even more at the sight. With a clear view of Jeno’s face, the way he bit his lip and shut his eyes, you felt closer than ever. Jeno was close behind, not being able to take the tight squeeze you had around him anymore.

His pace fastened, thrusting up into you, pistoling in and out with desperation. “So good, fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, ‘wanted this as bad as me?” Your fucked out face was evident as you simply nodded your head, eyes rolling up into your head. With one more hard thrust, you came once more, followed quickly by him. The feeling of his spent shooting inside of you fogged your mind up, and you had to clamp a hand to your mouth to silence yourself. 

Regaining his breath, he lifted you until his dick was fully out of you, laying you comfortably aside before standing up and approaching his laptop. Waving with a successful grin on his face, he shut the computer off. Putting on the nearest boxers on his bed, his next destination was the bathroom, where he gathered a warm wet towel to clean you up. 

You weren’t asleep per se, when he came back, yet your refusal to open your eyes accompanied by your lack of speech told Jeno that you were too exhausted to function, so he let you lay down. In truth, he always dreamed of spoiling you, taking care of you after fucking you to sleep. The only indicator that you were still awake was the small squeeze you gave his hand when he laid behind you, swelling his heart with several emotions. The moment was perfect, one that would forever be remembered in his head as heaven, until he picked his phone up to check the time. 

Can’t believe she squirted… screen recorded all that by the way dude, never thought I’d be so turned on watching you both lol

Jeno didn’t think twice before blocking Haechan’s contact, putting his phone down and cuddling back into you.

a/n: haiii guys i just realized i haven't made anything about jeno yet and ugh i was watching the poison track video he looks so goodddd that look is what i had in mind while making this i hope you guys enjoy :3

[zyhkoo]

☆ I need a doctor, oh! batboys x medic!reader

fluff, gn!reader

they surprise you while you work

a/n: i was inspired by this one tiktok that says “my husband thought he could escape me so i made an appointment “ i thought it was so cute haha

Bruce Wayne

Breaktime, finally. You sighed and leaned into a chair in your personal break room. You loved your job as a medic, but the problem is it was just so tiring. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing to the comfortable silence around you.

Being a Vigilante by night and a doctor by day was a very tiring job.

Sleep was almost non-existent on work days, the most you got was three to six hours. You looked like an ill patient instead of a doctor at this point. But the hospital wasn’t busy today, so you went to the break room to relax.

Tap tap tap.

There was something tapping on the window, but you didn’t care to check whatever it was, so you continued to close your eyes.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap!

“…”

The tapping sounded more aggressive now, you groaned and turned your chair to the window.

“Oh my god..”

And there he was, in his signature bat suit and with that grim look on his face. You immediately walked up and opened the window. You helped Bruce sit on a chair as he tries not to fall on you.

He removed his helmet and there were a series of injuries and bruises on his poor face.

“What happened? I thought you didn’t have any patrols till later?” you frowned, your hands holding his face so you view him better.

He replied back with his gruff and clearly intimidating voice “Duty calls.” yeah of course.

You sighed, “Well.. you stay here okay? I’ll find something to patch you up, I’ll lock the door so no one sees you.” Bruce gently holds the hand that was touching his face.

“Thank you.”

Jason Todd

You had just finished patching up a patient in the emergency room, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stretched. Today was a busy day, but it was normal. There are patients getting admitted left to right and your job was to tend to them.

“Um, doc..” one of the nurses approached you, you looked at her “Yes? What’s the matter?” you asked.

She fidgeted “Uh, we have a patient and he told us he specifically wanted to be treated by you..?”

Your brow raised “Me specifically? Do I know who they are?” you asked, your tone was skeptical.

The nurses led you to the room this mysterious patient was in. You opened the door to see Jason with his full suit on with injuries all over. As well as flowers on his left hand…

Your eyes widened as you immediately locked the door.

“Hi, Doc.” Jason greets casually “Jason why are you here? Hold on, let me take a look.” you said as you took a good look at his scars.

“Nearest safe house was 2 kilometers away and this was way near.” he replied, for a moment you blankly stared at the flowers on his hand. “What are these for?”

Jason looked at the flowers then at you “I thought I could give you a gift on the way.” he shrugs.

Dick Grayson

“Here's the next patient doc, they’re in your office.” the nurse gives you the details about your next patient. You smiled and took the folder “Thank you.”

You loved your job as a vet, you got along well with your sweet co-workers and you had this passion with animals.

As you read the document in your hands, you found all of this strangely familiar. You opened the door to the room and yep you're right.

There he was, with his signature goofy grin and the adorable dog in his arms.

“Hey Doc, looking good as always.” he slyly says, Haley barked clearly excited to see you as well. You scoffed, but you can’t help but smile as well.

You know for a fact Haley is definitely well, you and Dick had just strolled her around the park a day ago. You did the checkup anyway and nothing was wrong.

“She could use a vaccine, she needs her rabies shots.” Dick says, you put your stethoscope down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” you said.

But Dick was not satisfied. “Hey, hey, hey, miss, vet, doc?” you stopped your tracks and turned to him “No kiss? What is this?” you sighed as you walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“See you in a minute doc.” he grins, you said nothing and quickly walked away.

The nurses and staff snickered and teased you all day, you couldn’t do anything but flush at their attempts of teasing you.

discoed server

[lev1hei1chou]

A What?

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You ask for a baby out of nowhere Masterlist Requests open!

"Hey, Satoru, I want a baby."

The man choked on his cereal. Milk splattered across the table, and he coughed, looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. "You what?"

You grinned, loving his reaction. "I want a baby."

Gojo blinked, processing your words. "Like...a human baby? With diapers and all?"

You laughed. "Yes, Satoru, a human baby. Not a cursed spirit baby or a baby goat. A tiny human."

He leaned back in his chair, still stunned. "You can't just drop a bomb like that while I'm eating my Froot Loops, babe. Give a guy some warning."

You shrugged, leaning over to wipe a speck of milk off his cheek. "I thought you could handle anything."

"Yeah, curses and evil sorcerers, sure. But this...this is a whole new level of scary." He ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand up in more directions than usual. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." You sat down across from him, your expression softening. "I think we'd make great parents."

He looked at you, eyes softening. "Of course we would. I mean, look at us. We're awesome."

You snorted. "Modest, as always."

"Hey, it's not arrogance if it's true." He grinned, then grew serious again. "But...a baby? That's a big deal."

"I know. But I want to start a family with you, Satoru."

He was silent for a moment, then his lips curved into a smile. "Okay. Let's do it."

You blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I've always wanted kids. Didn't think about it too much because, you know, job hazards and all. But if you want a baby, then I want a baby. Simple as that."

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. "Simple as that, huh?"

"Yep." He stood up, suddenly energized. "Alright, let's make a baby right now."

Your eyes widened. "Satoru, we can't just...it's the middle of the day!"

"Details, details." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world. I can make time for baby-making."

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "How romantic."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I can be romantic. Just you wait."

The next few days were filled with Gojo's attempts at being "romantic." You came home to rose petals scattered all over the living room (which the cat was now batting around), a candlelit dinner (where he nearly set the kitchen on fire), and a bubble bath for two (where he splashed so much water that the bathroom flooded).

"You're really trying, aren't you?" you said, toweling off your hair after the bath fiasco.

He pouted. "I'm trying to set the mood."

You kissed his cheek. "I appreciate it, Satoru. But we don't need all this. Just you and me, together. That's enough."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms. "You're right. As always."

That night, lying in bed, he turned to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "So, about that baby..."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "Okay, okay. Let's do this."

A few weeks later, you found yourself holding a pregnancy test in your hand, heart pounding. Gojo was pacing back and forth in the bathroom, looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered. "It's fine. Whatever it says, it's fine."

You glanced at the test, then at him. "Satoru, you need to calm down."

He stopped pacing and looked at you, taking a deep breath. "Right. Calm. I can do calm."

You held up the test, a smile spreading across your face. "We're having a baby."

For a moment, he just stared at you, then he whooped, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "We're having a baby! I'm gonna be a dad!"

You laughed, holding onto him. "Yes, you are. And you're going to be amazing."

He set you down, his eyes shining. "We're going to be amazing."

Months passed in a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby shopping, and Gojo's over-the-top preparations. He baby-proofed the house, even the ceiling, "just in case the baby is super strong and starts climbing walls."

"Satoru, that's ridiculous," you said, watching as he padded the corners of the coffee table with foam.

He looked up at you, serious. "Safety first, babe."

When the day finally came, Gojo was more nervous than you. He held your hand in the delivery room, eyes wide as he watched the process.

"You're doing great," he whispered, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Hours later, when the baby finally arrived, Gojo stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, tears in his eyes. "Hi there, little one. I'm your dad."

You smiled, exhausted but happy. "And I'm your mom."

He looked at you, his expression full of love and awe. "We did it."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. "Yeah, we did."

[caitified]

Hi can you please try to do Paige x reader wife. Where in they both want to have kids so they do IVF and after a year of trying reader is finally pregnant and Paige is so thrilled. Also, can it please be like first trim, second trim, and last trim until she gives birth? I hope you try this one out please. Thank you so much! And I just want to say how I love your witting!🩷

beginning

paige bueckers x reader

warnings:none, this will be the start of my new paige family series! feel free to drop ideas in my inbox. hope this is ok for you, i can into more detail if you’d like!

the first time you see the positive pregnancy test, you don’t believe it. after months of negative results, doctors’ appointments, and so many nights spent comforting each other when it felt like nothing was working, it doesn’t feel real.

but it is.

you call paige into the bathroom, your hands trembling as you hold the stick. “paige,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

she looks at you, confused for a second, before her eyes fall on the test. when she sees the two pink lines, her face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“oh my god,” she breathes, taking the test from your hands and staring at it, her lips curving into a shaky smile.

“it’s happening,” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks.

paige pulls you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. “we’re having a baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

the first trimester is a mix of excitement and nerves. paige is constantly hovering, making sure you’re eating enough, resting enough, and not lifting anything heavier than a pillow.

“babe, i can carry the groceries,” you laugh one afternoon as she insists on hauling every single bag into the house.

“not a chance,” she replies, grinning. “our baby’s in there, and i’m not taking any risks.”

she spends hours reading parenting books, bookmarking baby names on her phone, and talking to your growing belly even when it’s too early for the baby to hear.

“hi, little one,” she whispers one night, her hand resting gently on your stomach as you lie in bed. “it’s me, your mama. i can’t wait to meet you.”

you can’t help but fall more in love with her every day.

by the second trimester, your bump has started to show, and paige is obsessed.

“look at you,” she says one morning, her hands gently cupping your belly as you get dressed. “you’re glowing.”

“i’m sweating,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but her grin is contagious.

she goes with you to every doctor’s appointment, holding your hand during the ultrasounds and tearing up when you hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

“that’s our baby,” she whispers, her voice full of wonder.

she also becomes extremely protective. when a random person at the grocery store tries to touch your belly, paige steps in with a polite but firm, “please don’t.”

“you’re like a guard dog,” you tease later, and she shrugs, unapologetic.

“i’m just taking care of my girls,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

the third trimester is harder. your back aches, your feet are swollen, and you’re more exhausted than ever. but paige is there for you through it all, rubbing your feet at night, running out to get your weird cravings, and reminding you how beautiful you are even when you don’t feel like it.

“you’re amazing,” she says one night as she helps you settle into bed, her hand resting on your belly. “i don’t know how you’re doing this.”

“because i have you,” you reply, your heart swelling as she leans down to kiss you softly.

she’s the one who sets up the nursery, carefully assembling the crib and decorating the walls with soft colors and tiny basketball decals.

“our kid’s going to be a baller,” she says proudly, and you laugh, knowing she’s probably right.

when the contractions finally start, paige is a mix of nerves and excitement. she holds your hand the entire time, whispering words of encouragement and brushing your hair out of your face.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” she murmurs, her voice steady even though you can see the tears in her eyes. “i’m so proud of you.”

and when your baby is finally born—a tiny, perfect girl—paige is the first to hold her, her hands trembling as she cradles your daughter against her chest.

“she’s perfect,” paige whispers, tears streaming down her face as she looks at you. “thank you. thank you for her.”

you smile, exhausted but so full of love, watching as paige presses a gentle kiss to your daughter’s forehead.

“we did it,” you say softly, and paige nods, her eyes never leaving your baby.

“yeah,” she whispers, her voice full of awe. “we did.”

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[qlossytbh]

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 in which you and spencer almost say i love you four times and one time where you actually do.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 16+ minors dni!, fem!reader, established relationship, spencer is down bad, so is reader tho, idiots in love, they’re both lowkey rlly hormonal bro, pet names (love, handsome), this one’s a rollercoaster, fluff, angst, lots of suggestiveness because reader likes to tease lol, allusions to smut (didn’t actually write it tho sorry!) fighting, spencer kinda acts like a bitch, makeoutshesh, mentions of reader being insecure of her physical appearance, mentions of typical cm content, mentions of blood, mentions of reader getting hurt, protective!spencer, derek and reader have a cute friendship, lots of mentions of maeve so spoilers on that end, pls let me know if i forgot anything!!!,

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 8.1k (damn)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i had many cute loose concepts and i kinda meshed it all into one fic. this is also loosely based on birds of a feather by billie eilish! im in love with this piece ugh

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The first time

“You look different,” Derek mumbled, mostly to himself, but loud enough to catch on. You turned towards his voice. The only thing different was that Hotch had let you come in later than your usual schedule since you had a random doctor's appointment— Oh, and the recently purchased light-blue button up you were wearing.

Your brows furrowed at Derek, one hand adjusting the strap of the purse that hung loosely on your shoulder as a light brown bag sat comfortably in the other. “Different..?”

Emily followed Derek, joining in as she glanced over at you from her own respective desk. “Actually he’s right,”

“I’m wearing a new shirt..?” You fiddled with the first button of your shirt, pursing your lips in bewilderment.

“No—“ Emily squinted at you. “It’s something else..”

Your mouth hung slightly open, not really sure how to respond to their prying eyes. They both were glancing at you, then at each other, then you again, but this time up and down—

“I hope it’s a good difference,” You commented as you waltzed past them and towards your boyfriend's desk. Spencer was hunched over at his desk, eyes practically burning holes into the files that sat in front of him.

His lips were pursed familiarly, just like he always did when he was so concentrated, along with the familiar furrow in his brow. His hair was tousled, a strand or two falling flat in front of his forehead. He looked so good it made you dizzy.

An instinctive smile had already reached your face once you made it to his desk. You leaned over him, slapping the brown bag on top of the files he was reading. He flinched slightly, but nevertheless, was finally pulled out of his deep concentration pool. You placed your palms on his shoulders, running them down his chest as you leaned over to hug him from behind.

You placed a kiss underneath his ear. “Hi handsome,”

He sank in his desk, realizing it was only just you and immediately easing. He hummed placidly, entranced by the sound of your sickeningly sweet voice. You pulled away to which he took the opportunity to glance over his shoulder at you.

You gave him a soft smile, one you used that made his heart soar. How your eyes grew lenient and lips curved gently upwards as you scanned as much of his features as your brain could possibly take in.

You placed both hands on his shoulder and nudged your chin towards the bag. “Brought you your favorite,”

His hands were already on the bag before you could say anything else and when he looked inside he was in fact correct on his suspicions when he saw two chocolate sprinkled doughnuts.

They smelled heavenly and he knew they were enough to cure his very major and very much present sweet tooth he had woken up with this morning. A large uncontrollable smile slapped right onto his face as he opened his mouth. “I—“

He stopped, clamping his mouth shut abruptly.

Thank god. He swallowed those three words that had nearly left his mouth, pushing them right back into the back of his throat before the damage could be done.

It wouldn’t necessarily be the first time this week where he let the confession accidentally slip. He realized that as of recently, he would catch himself with more and more of a necessity to tell you how he felt.

The two of you started seeing each other romantically about six months back. It was completely out of nowhere when he asked you out for the first time. The second— and third, and fourth and continuing times after were more than expected.

It didn’t take much for the two of you to realize how much of an importance the other partook in your day to day basis, even despite being friends for so long prior to the dating.

And everyday he saw you he felt this big tightening in his chest that made it actually impossible for him to breathe. He felt all this pent up emotion that was getting harder for him to manage with every passing day.

It scared him, how much he cared about you. How much he wanted you to be a part of his everyday life and how much he wanted to tell you how it made him feel— how you made him feel.

But that fear was exactly the reason why he’d clamp his mouth shut every single time he felt like he wanted to tell you.

“I—uhm,” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, really I—“

You watched him, titling your head to the side with a prying gaze. “Have I ever told you how amazingly perfect you are?”

You purse your lips, leaning over his shoulder and pretending to be deep in thought. “I’m not sure— I think you’re gonna need to jog up my memory.”

He shook his head, huffing a laugh as you leaned down and pressing a long kiss onto his lips. You hummed in contentment, feeling the fuzziness in your chest reach every nerve in your body.

“Hey,” You pulled away, glaring over at Derek from Spencer’s desk. “Calm your hormones or I’m telling Hotch to hit HR up,”

“Actually hormones aren’t something you can consciously control, they’re a biological response to situations we find—“ Spencer quipped, earning a loud groan from Morgan.

You rolled your eyes, looking down at Spencer and reaching a hand up, running it ploddingly through his thick brown curls. “Are you coming over tonight?”

He nodded. “Yeah,”

“Looking forward to it,” You pecked his lips once more. Before rounding his desk and making a b-line for your own.

Spencer scanned you up and down as you waltzed away, not realizing you were wearing the shirt you bought last weekend. The one that enhanced the beauty of your hair and skin color, mapping a perfect picture he wanted to get lost looking at. He also couldn’t fail to avoid the way the shirt deliciously hugged every curve and bump your body had to offer. And those dress pants—

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning internally. He then thumped his forehead onto his desk, cheeks blazing with heat, knowing he was more screwed than anyone in this whole building, a lost cause if you will.

As you strutted past Derek and Emily’s desk towards your own, Emily gasped loudly. “I think I finally got it,”

“Yeah, I completely agree with you,” Derek followed. You looked at them both quizzically.

“Could it be?— No,” Emily gasped once again and you immediately noticed that it was fake, alarming you of whatever game they were getting at.

“Yeah, I think it’s finally happened.” Derek leaned back in his chair, clicking his tongue and smirking over at you. “Pretty girl here is in love,”

Your cheeks turned hot, as your eyebrows shot up defensively. “What?”

Derek liked to say the two of you were still in your ‘honeymoon phase’ and you couldn’t disagree with him— it was the most accurate description of your relationship with Spencer.

But saying in love triggered something— physically and emotionally.

“No wonder she looks so different,” Emily tutted. “She’s got that ‘happy in love’ glow to her.”

“Shut up,” You have the strap of your purse on a death grip as you opened your mouth to protest but failed miserably as all the words died in the back of your throat. Thank god Spencer seemed preoccupied with the donut you had just given him.

“I’m—“ You shuffled, slapping yourself internally. Way to give it away. “You guys need to find a better hobby.”

And with blazing cheeks, a dry throat and a concerning pattering heart blaring against your throat, you stalked your way back to your desk.

The second time

“But that isn’t fair Spencer!” You groaned, gripping your bag as if your life depended on it. “You can’t expect to save everyone and then blame yourself when it doesn’t go well,”

There had been a sensitive case today, clearly an unsuccessful one. Spencer, like usual, jumped at the first opportunity to start blaming himself— for not being quicker, for not being smarter.. Whatever reason he could nitpick at, he was currently doing so.

You tore your purse off your body and tossed it into a small basket by your front door. You roughly tore your heels off, slightly relieved at the feeling off the palms of your feet on the wooden floor.

“There were flaws in the profile— flaws in the geographical profile,” He huffed, frustrated, filling every fiber of his words. He tore his satchel off his body, grabbing his files from it prior and slapping them onto your coffee table. “We couldn’t even correctly pinpoint the Unsubs M.O before he started sadistically killing again, we couldn’t—“

You felt for him, you truly did. Spencer was one of the most kind hearted, considerate people you knew, but that came with a lot of self-demands. He had to be everything at once, and be there for everyone at once and if he didn’t reach the bar he’d set up for himself, this would happen.

He pushed past you and towards your kitchen. “Spence, we aren’t going to solve every case, no matter how good our work may be.”

“You think I don’t know that? The average percent of homicides cleared or "solved" is 60 to 65 but around 35 to 40 percent go unsolved.” You opened your fridge, grabbing a pitcher of water and grabbing a glass from your cabinet as you listened to Spencer.

“35 to 40 percent, do you know how high that is?!” He stressed. You realized his irritation was heavy because he was reaching his peak of rambling.

Spencer just couldn’t stand when things like this happened. When people did horrible things and got the luxury of roaming free— he couldn’t help but feel like he was at fault for that. If he was just quicker, or smarter maybe they would’ve caught whatever bastard was terrorizing people.

“I know you know that!” You huffed a breath of frustration. “But that’s the way this job works Spence!”

“What would you know about how this job works?” He turned, hot on his heels, facing you with an indescribable exasperation pooling around his eyes.

You stopped in your tracks, looking up at him sharply and setting the still empty glass of water and pitcher back onto the table “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes were deeply upset— cold and hard and so much different from the soft and welcoming gaze of your partner. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about being a profiler. You joined the team around three years after the rest of us.”

You stared at him with incredulity. When in a relationship with somebody, as well as learning all of their admirable virtues, you also learn their defects. And one of Spencer’s defects was that he had no filter whatsoever when he got angry. He just said the first thing that came to mind and spit it out and towards whichever person was unlucky enough to fall victim.

Not that the two of you fought often because you quite literally never did— but you’d see him pissed at people and his petty side sometimes felt the need to make an appearance.

You, however, had never had to experience this firsthand. You’d seen it happen at work, with JJ, with Derek, with the press. But two of you had never spoken to each other the way you were doing now. And if he thought you were gonna let him slide, he’s got another thing coming.

“What about Rossi?” You challenged as you crossed your arms across your chest. “I was accepted into the team just months after he was, you’re gonna tell him he wouldn’t know the first thing about being a profiler?”

“That’s different—“

“How?” Your veins were pumping with adrenaline. Your fingers shook violently, and the back of your throat suddenly burned with the need to cry. “I had jobs before getting called into the BAU, and I busted my ass off in college—“

“It’s not the same!” He spat. “You had never worked with the team before, it took you months to learn how we processed things, how we handled them.”

You could visually see Spencer bite down on his tongue only now attempting to reel himself down back to earth. And if you didn’t know him better, you wouldn’t be able to recognize the identifiable regret that appeared in his eyes while you continued on.

“And who are you to hold that against me Spencer?”

He swallowed thickly and let out a heavy sigh. You ran a frustrated hand through your curled hair. “All i’m saying is that—“

“I know what this job is like, which is why I’m telling you to get out of your goddamn head.” You didn’t scream at him, but there was a firmness in your voice that could scare practically anyone off.

“The things that have happened, happened today or will happen are never going to be in our control,” You told him. “Never.”

“Just because you’re angry and pissed does not give you a free card to attack me,” You slammed the glass cup onto the counter and pushed past him, making your way out of the kitchen. Spencer didn’t follow you to your room, he knew it wasn’t a smart idea.

So as your bedroom door slammed shut, he stalked over to your couch, opening up the paper files onto your coffee table, and rerunning them once again. He wasn’t able to concentrate at all though, knowing you were in the other room tossed in bed and probably crying because of him.

A few long hours later, Spencer closed his files and looked over towards your door. There had been no noise emitted whatsoever from your room, which he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

He felt like an idiot. Presumably so, he was so stupid for just lashing out like that on you. Your intentions were never ill intended, yet he still pushed you away and he hated himself for that.

He stood up, making his way into your kitchen and grabbing the empty glass. He poured some water into it and went over to your door.

You were lying down, blankets wrapped around you protectively as your back faced him. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling the endearment tighten in his chest.

You stirred in your sleep as the bed sunk beside you, groaning softly. Spencer hovered over you, setting down the glass of water on the nightstand beside your head.

“Hey,” His voice was very soft, maybe even enough to send you back into the nap you were in— until you remembered what had happened earlier and thought that maybe talking to him was a better idea.

Your eyes burned and your head hurt. You sniffed away the buildup that the crying had caused. You then blinked away the grogginess from your eyes, along with the slight burning sensation due to the tears you had shed earlier. “Hey,”

Your sleepy voice was enough to send Spencer into a whirlwind. It tugged at the strings of his heart and all he wanted to do right now was grab you in his arms and hold you there forever.

He laid on his side beside you, running a soft hand across your arm with the encouragement for you to turn around and face him.

A slight sense of anxiety was coursing through him. He was scared that a part of you was still mad at the way he spoke to you, and the worst part was that he couldn’t blame you, because he had in fact acted like an idiot.

You blinked up at him from over your shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Around nine?” You hummed, flipping on your side and turning to face him. Spencer slapped at the nerves inside him and shifted slightly in his position.

“Hey,” He reached his hand over to yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “Were you crying?”

“Yeah,” His tone hadn’t been patronizing or ridicule intended, it was more so concerned. You reached up to rub your eye.“You were pretty fucking mean.”

Spencer wanted to kick himself. Truly. There wasn’t anything else to say but how utterly stupid he had been for causing you any type of harm when his main promise was to prevent you from any of it.

“You should drink some water,” He lifted himself up by his elbow, hovering over you again and reaching for the glass.

“I’m not thirsty,” You mumbled, snuggling closer into your pillow.

“You should still drink love, you haven’t had a single drop of water since we got here and you’re probably dehydrated,” You didn’t look at him. “I added those watermelon electrolytes you like so much.”

You peered at the glass, suddenly feeling deathly thirsty. With a huff, you reached for the glass. “Fine,”

You downed the whole drink in a matter of seconds, melting at the taste of the sweet watermelon tartness on your tongue. Once you finished the glass, you handed it back to Spencer who set it on the opposite nightstand.

“Can we talk?” You nodded. “I’m sorry,”

You looked up at him, opting him to continue. “I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did. You were trying to help me, and by attempting to push you away I said stuff I really, really shouldn’t have and I’m so sorry,”

With a few seconds of silence, you reached down, intertwining both of your hands. Your thumb glided over his knuckles as you listened to him.

You mumbled. “It’s okay Spence,”

He shook his head. “It’s not, honestly. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

Yeah, good point.

“I know,” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “But you said that you're sorry and next time we’ll learn how to manage these things a little more efficiently.”

You quickly pulled his arm over your body and scooted forward, too tired to dwell in an emotionally exhausting conversation, nuzzling your face into his neck while his arms instinctively tightened around your frame. “We’ll get the hang of this, okay?”

There was silence after that. One that could’ve been filled by anything, honestly.

Those three words were all you wanted to say right then and there. It had been on your mind a lot recently, how Spencer was making you feel a ton of scary and big and complicated feelings— all amazing but terrifying. And those three words felt the most accurate when it came to telling him how you felt about him.

You really wanted to tell him at that moment. You don’t know where the necessity came from but it hit you like a tidal wave. Strong and capricious. Uncontrollable almost.

But then the fear settled in and you’d obstruct yourself from doing so.

So you didn’t say it, even though you may have wanted to.

Instead you just held him tighter and nuzzled into him as close as you physically could, hoping that somehow the message would get across. He placed a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Okay.”

The third time

You smiled into the kiss, tugging at his hair as you leaned back, supporting yourself solely on his grip around your lower back. Your legs rested on either side of him, sitting in his lap while his hands raked across your back in a way that made you feverish.

His lips moved swiftly across yours. He squeezed your hips, fingertips slipping just slightly underneath your shirt. You shivered at the contrast of his cold fingertips against your blazing skin. Spencer pulled away, voice breathy. “Is this okay..?”

“Yes,” You whispered back before pulling him onto your lips again.

Your relationship with Spencer was something that made your heart feel so light and airy— something so pure and easy. It made you grow dizzy just thinking about his hands on you and all the sweet things he’d whisper in your ear constantly. How he was always so considerate and sweet and perfect.

You were staying the night at Spencer’s apartment, too tired to drive back to your own apartment after work. But some things lead to others and well— yeah.

When having to restrain so much physical contact at work, strictly wanting to remain as professional as possible, you could merely blame yourself for needing him like this once back at eithers apartment.

You hummed against his lips, raking your hands slowly through his hair. The kissing hadn’t stopped for the past half hour or so— honestly you lost track of time.

Spencer pulled away breathlessly and placed a few messy but calculated kisses on your jaw and neck. You smiled almost stupidly. He pulled away, looking at your dozy face and feeling his chest tighten.

Your lips were slightly pinker than usual, and puffier. Your hair was just slightly tousled while your cheeks glowed a beautiful red hue. Your fingers remained tangled in the locks of his curls.

“You look pretty,” He was saying that as if it was another one of his scientifically proven facts, as if no one could say or believe otherwise. You tucked a small curl that had slipped onto the side of his face behind his ear, humming passingly. However, you never found his eyes, only focusing now on the curls that sat comfortably framing his face.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed, fiddling with the hem of your loose shirt. “You do that often,”

You look down at him, questioning him with a hum. “Do what?”

“Overlook the things I say when I compliment you,” He remarked. “Like you don’t believe me.”

You still didn’t move your attention from his curls. You didn’t believe him most of the time.

You weren’t an insecure person, not entirely anyways. You put a lot of focus on your physical appearance, always maintaining your clean look intact to the public eye. To many, you were considered extremely attractive. But unlike popular belief, you had many insecurities that you always tried to overlook. Sometimes it was hard though.

It was just hard for you to understand how he saw you so perfectly, like you had not a single flaw. ‘Beautiful’ and ‘breathtaking’, just like he always says when he sees you at work or back at your apartments. How he’s able to litter you with a million compliments

“I don’t overlook your compliments,” You let out an airy laugh, pulling back slightly to look at him properly, hands resting on his shoulders.

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t..!” You laughed, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a long kiss. He drew away, only by a few centimeters, desperately trying to get his point across because god forbid Spencer keep his thoughts to himself.

“You’re deflecting,” He whispered over your lips before you laid another feather-like kiss into his lips. You hummed dismissively, assuring him that you weren’t avoiding anything.

But god, if you didn’t stop kissing him so softly and so painfully slowly, if you didn’t stop shifting around on his lap the way you were and if you didn’t stop your hands from wandering their way across his shoulders and chest— he was going to have a hard time remaining composed.

“You’re—“ A kiss.

“trying to—“ Another kiss.

“distract me,” It was as if you were a magnet he was so desperately trying to detach himself from, but failing miserably. Gravity itself pulled him towards you, he couldn’t help nor control it. He couldn’t blame himself either.

“Is it working?” You whispered, voice dangerously close to a taunt. Your hands began fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, popping the first two undone.

Spencer found himself growing dizzy as his hands dug into your hips. “Unfortunately,”

You kissed his jaw, and Spencer let out a stifled groan. With the willpower of the gods themselves, he reached up and grabbed your hands into his own, stopping their mission at undoing his shirts buttons. You pouted with a glare, pulling away from him as his thumb gilded affectionately across your knuckles.

“So wait,” You pulled back. “Is this your way of saying you don’t want to sleep with me.?”

Spencer choked. “What?— No!”

Spencer groaned as you stifled a giggle. Oh, how you loved teasing and getting him all flustered. “That’s not— No.”

You tilted your head. His hands rested on your hips, as he sighed looking up at you. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

You blushed. “You tell me often,”

“I know you’re beautiful,” He shook his head and sat up, trailing his hands across your back. “Do you?”

“People tell me often,” You smirked and when he glared at you all you could do was kiss it off him. “But I only like hearing it from you,”

“I asked you something,” He let out.

“Sort of,” You admitted meekly, finally responding to his question. His hands came back to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it as his lips found yours again.

“You’re probably the most beautiful person I know,” He whispered above your lips matter of factly.

“Probably..?”

“Definitely,” His hands gripped at the plush flesh of your hips in a way that was making you want to fall to the ground and melt into a puddle of goop. It was so gentle yet there was a specific urgency to it.

He pulled away, kissing your cheek immediately after. “You’re also so smart and kind,”

He kisses traveled across your cheek, to your temple, towards your jaw and that damn spot on your neck that he knew drove you crazy. All while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Your witt was slowly melting away with any trace of self control you had left in you as you closed your eyes, arching yourself into his addictive touch. ”And funny,”

“Spence..” You warned.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” He looked back at you, reaching up and cupping your cheek in his hand. “I—“

His words failed him as they whipped all the way back into his throat, daring not to leave his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to say it, there wasn’t anything else he wanted to say to you, because no matter how much he’d wash you in compliments, those three words were the closest thing to allowing you to understand just how much you truly meant to him— hell, it didn’t even feel like enough sometimes.

And that scared the shit out of him.

Which is why he quickly thought of the closest thing to those three words and spat them out, avoiding any growing suspicions. “I love the way you make me feel.”

You weren’t gonna lie, the first two words had gotten your hopes up in ways that were too pathetic to admit out loud. But his words had other intentions, so it seems, and you had to force yourself from slouching your shoulders foward in disappointment.

Beside, it’s not like the things he was saying weren’t causing a wonderful heat to pool in the pit of your stomach— and among other places.

You watched him, for a second or two, trying to maybe tell him with your eyes what you couldn’t tell him with your words. But it still wasn’t enough, and if you didn’t release the neediness that was starting to take shape within you, you'd quite literally explode.

You tangled your fingers within his hair and pulled his mouth onto yours in a steady but desperate kiss. He responded pretty well, given since his hands found your waist instantly and tugged them towards himself in a feverish manner.

He began pulling at the bottom of your shirt, signaling he needed it off of you and pulled away, whispering breathlessly. “Can I?—“

“Please.”

The fourth time

“Ouch,” You hissed as Morgan dabbed a piece of gauze onto the now stitched up cut on your head. “Are you trying to give me another concussion?”

Derek deadpanned at you, slightly relieved that you still found the energy to pick on him after being whacked in the back of the head with a pipe by the Unsub.

The team was searching for a local Serial Killer that targeted young women around the area, per usual. You and Morgan were put in charge of entering the Unsubs apartment since Garcia had been able to track it down while you and Morgan were on call.

It wasn’t anything past ordinary. This was your job, you had done this more than a thousand times before— much less carelessly and it wasn’t like you to be so careless. But sometimes you get so comfortable and cocky with your job that you forget about the actual risks of it.

Eventually that cockiness would have turned around and bit you in the ass.

When you and Morgan busted down the door, guns in hand, you split up, each directioning yourselves into different rooms of the apartment— in hindsight that was a horrible idea.

When you walked into what seemed to be an empty room, you stupidly failed to check the back of the door. Which was why a second later, when you opened your mouth to inform Morgan that the room was clear, something solid and cold wacked you across the back of the head, knocking you out unconscious.

You weren’t aware of what happened after that, given how the blunt force had knocked you out profusely and you really couldn't recall anything prior to the attack when you regained consciousness. All you knew is that you were alive and the Unsub had been caught, which was all that mattered honestly.

Derek was now wallowing in the self inflicted guilt of not knowing better. But to be completely fair, you didn’t know better either— you were as much to blame as he was.

But Derek was convincing himself that because of his lack of observation, you had ended up with a concussion, six stitches and a bruised cheekbone.

“Derek—” You pleaded, watching him dump the ice pack onto the counter of the back of the ambulance with an angry toss.

All he was doing right now was huffing in anger. “Come on,”

He turned to look down at you. Shot him a stiff thumbs up and a smile, signaling that you were more than okay. Sure, your head was throbbing, but you weren’t dying.

“Stop doing that,” You rolled your eyes and squashed your eyes shut, attempting to relieve your headache.

“Doing what?”

“The sulking,”

“I’m not sulking,” Derek scoffed. Now it was your turn to deadpan him. He opened his mouth, intending to jump instantly to his defense.

“Where is she?” A panicked voice from the depths of the crowd caused you to grimace, immediately recognizing it to be Spencer’s. Derek suddenly felt dread when realizing he now had to face him.

Spencer could be rather ardent when it came to you and your safety— you knew you were fine, but having to convince Spencer that you were fine as well was a tougher job.

Spencer pushed through the vast amounts of people, finally breaking through the last line of them and finding you sitting placidly in the back of the ambulance. The panic Spencer felt coursing within him was something he wished upon no one.

When Hotch told the team that you were down, Spencer couldn’t help but freak out. He hid it well, knowing he had to stay focused on the case, but god was he slowly crashing. His usual sharp intellect was fogged, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your wellbeing. His head was flooded with questions and worries and he needed to know that you were okay.

He strided over to you, quickly crouching and taking your cold hands into his own. His distressed eyes flew all over your face, scanning it as his hand came up to cup your cheek. His thumb gilded gently over your bruise and the deep furrow in his brows was enough to tell you that his mind was going haywire.

“Hey you,” You said, humor glistening your tone while smiling sweetly and oblivious to the gravity of the situation. Spencer forced a weak smile to spread across his own face.

“Hey,” He cooed. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine actually,”

Spencer straightened himself out, turning to Derek. “What did the paramedics say?”

“They gave her six stitches for the superficial cut on the crown of her head and some ice for the bruised cheekbone,” He crossed his arms. “They say it’s probable she has a concussion.”

Spencer felt his blood run cold. “A concussion?!”

You could tell Spencer was trying his hardest to remain calm. It was evident in the deep breaths he was taking and the tapping of his fingers against the side of his leg. He was doing a horrible job at it though, although you wouldn’t tell him that because he’d just freak out some more. His voice was getting all pitchy and his shoulders shook feebly. He sucked in a deeper breath, closing his eyes and attempting to regain his composure.

“Spencer,” You didn’t need him panicking more than he already was. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, probably to scold you or maybe even defend himself, Hotch's stoic voice cut through.

“We need to deliver a statement. Morgan, Reid,”

Spencer looked down at you. But you pushed him to head over to wherever your chief needed him to be. “Go. You can—“

“Hotch, I’m going to stay,” He told the chief, almost finally.

“For the first 24 hours after the injury, it’s important for someone to stay with her to keep an eye out for any new symptoms that develop.”

You clamped your mouth shut and looked at Hotch, who remained neutral watching the two of you. You offered him a shrug, and the two of you knew there was no getting through to him. Hotch hesitated momentarily, but knew Spencer would be more of use if he wasn’t with him worrying about you.

Spencer was as smart as they came but god could he be stubborn.

With a final nod from Hotch, he and Morgan pushed through the group of press. You followed Spencer’s movements with a sweet smile glued onto your face. He sat next to you, close enough so that you could feel the side of his thigh warm against yours.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked again, voice small, worrying that if he spoke too harshly or too loudly it would hurt you further.

“Surprisingly good for someone who was smacked in the back of the head with a metal pole,” You shrugged indifferently. Spencer, however, did not find your humor amusing.

“How sleepy are you on a scale from one to ten?” He asked urgently. You pulled back, pursing your lips quizzically.

“Like three? I slept like shit last night—”

“How about your neck? Does it feel stiff?” His hands reached up, cupping the sides of your neck as his thumbs traced your jaw.

“No,”

“Are you unable to move any part of your body?” His questions were spewing out of him uncontrollably, and it was getting hard for you to keep up.

“I don’t—“

“What about your pupils? Did the paramedics check them?”

“Spence,” You whined, slumping your shoulders forward while your face still rested in his hands. “The bright lights and harsh noises are giving me slight headaches, but that’s it.”

He stared at you. Long and hard, he just looked at you and wondered what he wanted to say out of all the things swirling around in his head.

“What were you thinking?” He asked finally. You stared at him and his eyes hard with annoyance, but still shining an amount of concern. His voice was barely above a whisper. You let your shoulders fall, licking your bottom lip.

You reached up, grabbing his hands steadily from your face and lacing your fingers with his. “We weren’t,”

“We jumped in head first and didn’t think coherently,” His frustration was rational, but to a certain extent. You really wanted to validate his concern, but he was not allowed to get mad at you. “Spencer.”

As you called his name firmly, he only looked away, jaw and shoulders tense and constricted. You sat there, silently waiting for him to react however it is he needed to in order to process.

“I should’ve gone with you, I should’ve—” His head ducked low. His voice was full of frustration, at himself mostly. It didn’t have to be because this was not something he could have prevented.

“Spencer,“ You gave his hands a firm squeeze and tugged on them slightly. “What did we talk about when it came to personal prevention?“

He remained silent. “I’m serious, there isn’t anything we could’ve done to prevent this.”

Spencer couldn't call to mind the last time he had felt this strongly about someone. Maybe Maeve, but he knew deep down it wasn’t the same. He was almost positive he really hadn’t ever felt this way about someone— he’d been in love, but never like this.

Your entire existence ameriolated his entire being. There wasn’t a moment in the day where he didn’t think of you, where he didn’t wonder what you would think of things, where he wasn’t excited to see you every morning for work. A life without you didn’t exist to him anymore— he didn’t want it too.

That could be the main basis as to why Spencer felt so implausibly terrified at the idea of losing you.

His hand left yours, replacing it with a cold emptiness. His free hand flew up to his eyes urgently, pinching them simultaneously to get rid of the minor tears that had welled upon them. He ducked his head low, not wanting you to notice that he had started tearing up.

Immediately, your whole face softened at the realization that he was crying. It tugged on the strings that held your heart up and made your stomach churn in the worst way possible. “Spence…”

Seeing him cry, possibly because of the fear of losing you, made you feel— funny. It gave you this airy feeling in your head that caused you to feel lightheaded and filled your chest with blithe. You weren’t sure if it was your concussion or the affection you felt towards Spencer that made you feel this way.

You smiled meekly, fondness across every one of your features. Spencer cleared his throat and spoke, voice wobbly and unsteady. He sat up, trying to recollect himself. “Sorry, I— I don’t know what i’m crying for—”

You looked into his eyes, eyebrows swooped downwards. At that second a million thoughts ran through your head, but only those three freaking worlds were the only ones that felt adequate enough to say in that moment.

“I—“ You started.

It was right there. It sat in the back of your throat irksomely. You were ready to jump off the edge, to slip into the abyss— to say those words that you’ve been holding off for the past weeks, months even. Spencer watched you, simultaneously growing nervous because he could tell by the way you swallowed thickly that you were about to say something.

“I think I’m seeing double,” You opted. Just the way his eyes blew wide was enough to make you giggle.

Next time.

“What do you mean?! Like actually double or are you—“ His voice died down at the sound of your snort and soon enough you began laughing. He blinked a few times before he glared at you.

“That is not funny.” It irked him massively how you had the capacity to always joke when he wasn’t at all in the mood to. But it also unraveled the itching anxiety that had grown in his chest and replaced it with a deep affection that surged throughout him entirely as he watched you laugh. “I’m serious.”

“Did you know that you look so cute when you’re mad?” Your hands reached up, cradling his face in your palms. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away his frown was still present. The pads of your thumbs rested on both corners of his lips, pushing them upwards and creating a makeshift smile.

“I’ll let you baby me these next few days all you want,” Your voice was soft and sweet, making his head spin as you hovered your lips over his, placing another slow kiss there. “But right now, I’m promising you that I am fine, okay?”

His jaw clenched, eyes flying down to avoid your prying one’s. “Spence.”

You were saying his name one too many times that he was finding it increasingly hard to compose himself. He glanced up at you, nodding weakly. “Okay.”

The fifth time

You leaned forward in the mirror of Spencer bathroom, poking at the scarring on the crown of your head. “It feels weird,”

“It’s scarring tissue, it’ll feel weird for a bit, love” He watched you silently from his seat on the edge of his bed.

“Do you think it’ll leave a scar?” You mumbled, voice tight with concern. “The bruising on my cheek is fading but god help me, if this leaves a weird bump on my head I’ll physically seek this psycho out in jail and give him his own bump to worry about,”

Spencer stopped himself from laughing, finding your pouting adorable.

“After an injury, the inflammatory process signals fibroblasts to lay down new, protective tissue in the form of scars,” Spencer quipped. “But it won’t be noticeable since it’s hidden underneath the rest of your hair.”

You huffed, poking at the bruise on your cheekbone and admitting. “It’s hard to feel pretty when I’m all busted up.”

“You always look pretty,” You continued to poke at your cheekbone to which Spencer stood up, walking into the bathroom and planting himself behind you.

“Stop poking at it like that,” He scolded, reaching behind you and grabbing your wrist. You focused on your face, huffing a breath of frustration.

This past week has been utter hell for Spencer. A newfound persistent anxiety managed to find him after your injury and sink its teeth into him, claiming him victim. You've been staying with him since your concussion, ensuring him that you were safe, but he noticed he’d grown more vigilant to his surroundings when he was at work, more possessive when it came to you and your wellbeing and more conscientious.

You didn’t obtrude, since you understood it was a perfectly normal reaction for him to have.

But he hated it. He hated this clawing anxiety he was having. He hated having the persistent fear of losing you. He tried to decipher whether it truly was all related to the recent events or if there was something deeper. But he knew for sure that the thought of you getting hurt was making him sick to his stomach.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You grabbed his arms, rubbing soft circles onto it with the soft pads of your thumb.

“Bruises make me feel ugly,” You miffed. “Except the ones you give me, I love those,”

Spencer looked up from your neck, catching your gaze and watching your mischievous smile lighten up through the mirror as he cocked a brow at you. You giggled out a laugh.

Spencer zoned out. He just looked at you, watching your pretty eyes latch onto his through the mirror, seeing your body safe and warm and alive in his arms. His throat tightened and as much as he hated it, his mind immediately thought of Maeve.

Not because he was comparing, of course not. He could never— the two of you meant very different things to him and they were very different relationships.

But he could remember how he wasn’t able to tell Maeve that he loved her— he wasn’t given the chance.

And it made him think about your recent accident, and all the times he'd been stopping himself from telling you. Fear, worry— whatever it was, he had been stopping himself time after time from telling you how he felt.

The thought of him losing you before he could ever tell you how he truly feels is something that made him want to throw up.

“Hotch said I could go back to work on Monday,”

“I love you.”

He said it because he could, he said it because he meant it, and he said it because he didn’t want to live a second longer without you knowing how he felt despite its reciprocity.

He won’t ever forget the way your face just fell. Just stopped moving, mouth hanging open and eyebrows shooting upwards. How your mind just went blank. God, his heart was in his throat and your silence wasn’t helping.

“What did you just say?” You asked, mostly in disbelief— entirely in disbelief.

“I love you.” He’d repeat it for you as many times as you wanted him too. He’d do anything for you.

You turned and his grip around you loosened. Now facing him, your eyes shot around every fraction of his face to determine that this wasn’t a lie or a joke or something cruel he was planning.

“Say that again,”

“I love you.”

And it definitely wasn’t.

You pushed yourself onto the tip of your toes, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a suffocating kiss. One that was desperate, and urgent and full of passion and all over the place.

He pushed you against the marble counter, quickly hoisting you up onto the cold tile as your mouth moved along his perfectly. Your hands dug themselves into his hair, your legs wrapped around his waist, tugged at his body, pulling him impossibly closer to your own.

He pulled away breathing over your lips. “I love you,”

He kissed you again before pulling away and whispering once again. “I’m in love with you.”

He rested his forehead onto you, reaching up and tangling his hands in your hair. The two of you heaved. Your chest was hammering against your rib cages, the oxygen wasn’t fully reaching your head or lungs and you were pretty sure you were going to faint. It was too much. “You are?”

You both peered your eyes open, looking at each other deeply. He whispered, voice crackling slightly. “How could I not?”

You kissed him, this time slowly and softly, wanting to show him how much you loved him back— needing to tell him how much you loved him back.

“I love you,” You said, wavering an unsteady laugh. He opened his eyes and pulled away, looking at you and infatuated with every part of your existence.

“Really?”

“Spencer..!” Your voice cracked in a protest, ludicrously referring to such a stupid assumption— you’d love him till the day you died. You pulled him closer. “It is physically impossible for me not to love you. Don’t act so surprised.”

He smiled. A big, wide and stupid smile that probably made him look like a kid on christmas morning. He kissed your forehead. “You have no idea how much of a relief it is to say it.”

You perched up, hands falling onto his chest. “How long have you wanted to say it?”

He cringed bashfully, letting his hands fall to your waist as he shook his head shamefully. “Too long,”

“Well that makes two of us then,” You leaned forward, placing a relaxed kiss on his jaw. “Was there a point you realized?”

He shook his head. He’s pretty sure that after a month of going out on dates and seeing you consecutively outside and inside of work, he knew he’d fall in love with you. How could he not? “My breaking point, however, was the day you were wearing your new shirt,”

He kissed your neck, giving your hips a tight squeeze. “Which by the way, looked absolutely incredible on you,”

“Is that so?” You mumbled, lips curving up in a smirk.

“I love how it looked on you,” He admitted. “I love you.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that,”

“I’m never going to get tired of saying it,” He responded. “When did you realize?”

“It was either that time after our first big fight or on that night on the couch when we,” You shot him a sneaky look, to which his cheeks turned pink, recalling the events of that night. You shrugged. “You know.”

You were going to be the literal death of him.

He kissed your jaw twice more. He loved you and you loved him. It seemed like something too good to be true. “I think I’m going to need you to jog up my memory,”

You giggled at the reference, heart doubling in size at the amount of affection you were feeling towards him at that moment. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, emitting a loud shriek followed by a string of laughter as he hoisted you up and carried you over to his bed.

[inlovewrafe]

I still love you, I promise (pt 2)

pairings: ex!lovers; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia;

warnings: angst; sickness; ed; pregnancy;

"Do you need to sit down?” You hear a muffled voice as you feel your feet beginning to give up on you. "What- What do you mean I'm pregnant?” You ask with a shaky voice. You had a feeling that you were but now that your suspicions are confirmed, and you hear it out loud, you can't believe it. Don't want to believe it. You are denying it. "No, I can't-“ You choke on your words, trying to make sense of what you were going to do. You feel a sharp pain in your heart as you realize. He isn't here. He isn't yours. He is hers.

You realize you will have to raise the baby alone. His baby. You were forever going to have a reminder of him. Every time you'll look at the baby, all you'll see is him.

"What if I don't want the baby? Can't I do anything about it?" You blurt out without even thinking. But as soon as the words leave your mouth you regret ever saying them. “I'm afraid you can't. You are already three months and a half in. Your boy is developing.” You freeze in your spot. "What do you mean boy?” “You are having a baby boy, congratulations!” She gives you a warm smile but you feel your stomach drop. A boy. You were having a boy. 'What will Rafe say when he finds out? Should I tell him?' You were deep in your thoughts when you heard the doctor talk to you again. “That'll be all. We'll schedule an appointment to check on him but we'll do that later on the phone.” “Thank you.”

You made your way towards your car as you stood frozen in your seat. You'll be all alone, raising your baby, while he plays happy couple with Sofia. You took a shaky breath as you pulled out of the parking lot, driving to your house.

When you got there you quickly made your way inside, seeing all of them displayed on the couch. The sound of the door closing made them all look towards where you stood. “Where have you been? Do you know how concerned we were?” Topper yells as he is quick to stand up from the couch. “I know, I'm sorry.” You mumble while fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. Sarah and Rafe spare a concerned glance to each other before they turn their attention back to you. “Sarah I need to talk to you. It's important." You say still fidgeting with the rings. "Yeah, 'course” She replies as she starts walking out of the room, following you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” But you don’t answer, instead you pull her in a hug as she remains confused but squeezes you hard as she reciprocates the hug. “I need to tell you something but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone, especially not Rafe.” “I promise! What is it?” You take a shaky breath as you say the words out loud. “I’m- I’m pregnant.” You wipe away a single tear that escaped your eye. “WHAT?” She looked at you shocked and excited at the same time. “Shhh” You hush her because you don’t want the boys to find out. “I’m sorry. Is it Rafes?” She asks just to make sure. “Of course, who else’s would it be?” She nodded her head with an obvious expression on her face. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t- He isn’t even- How will I raise-“ You mutter between choked sobs as you panic. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I’m here for you. You’ll be fine.” She tries to reassure you, but you can’t calm down. You sob into your hands as she pulls you in a hug. “It’s okay, let’s just eat something and we’ll sleep, yeah? We can deal with it tomorrow, okay?” She mumbles as she gives you gentle strokes on your back.

“Okay.” You let out a quiet response as you wipe around your eyes. “Do you want to order something? The boys already ordered when you were out. Or we can make something ourselves.” She gives you a light smile as you plop down on one of the chairs. “We can make some pasta if you want to.” You played with the necklace around your neck. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want.” She smiles as she puts a pot with water on the stove. You get up and take another pot where you can make the sauce in. You pour the sauce in the pan and add some seasonings to it.

After some time, the pasta is ready and you plate it. “Wow, this looks delicious! Ask the boys if they want some, while I wash the dishes, please!” You exit the kitchen and made your way towards the living room where you see the boys caught up in a game.

You clear your throat and all three heads snap towards you. “We made pasta. Want some?”

“Did you poison it, or why are you asking?” Topper raised a brow while snorting.

“No, but I’ll make sure to poison it next time, just for you.” You gave him a wink as you waited for an answer.

“Yeah, sure we’ll have some!”

“Come on then!”

You start walking to the kitchen with Top and Kelce in front of you and Rafe behind. You feel a hand on your wrist starting to pull you back.

“Why were you at the hospital?” He asks still holding your hand.

“I-“ You suddenly felt out of breath at the touch on your arm. You stare at his hand and back up at him, and he quickly lets go of you as if your touch was fire.

“Just had to check something.” You murmured, missing his soft hand on yours.

“Check what?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to look for an answer, but couldn’t come up with anything.

He was still staring at you, waiting for a response.

“What’s going on here?” You hear Sarah’s voice interrupt the silence between you and him.

“Uh, nothing. We were just talking.”

“Okay, come eat! You haven’t eaten anything today! Come on!” She grabbed your hand, leading you to the kitchen where you saw Top and Kelce on their second plate already.

“Oh come on! Leave some for the rest of us.” You laughed as you sat on a chair next to Sarah.

You ate half of the food on your plate when Kelce got up to go and plate a third portion.

“Kelce, chill out man! Do they keep you starved?” Everyone laughed as he sat down with his plate.

“You are the best chef ever! I might come over every day if you are cooking.” He laughed.

After you all finished eating, Rafes phone was buzzing with a few texts from next to you.

He was putting the dishes in the dishwasher with Topper so you though it won’t hurt anyone to sneak a quick glance.

As you glance at the texts with pit in your stomach you start feeling sick. The smile from your previous jokes was replaced by a sad expression as you remained quiet, taking out your phone to scroll on instagram. When you noticed the boys finished with the dishes, and he was walking towards you, you got up from your seat to retreat to your room. You repeat the texts from her over and over in your head with a heavy heart. ‘hey baby’. They were calling each other baby. Yours and his nickname. Now you were truly sick. You rushed past them and upstairs to the bathroom gaining a few concerned looks from your friends.

“What was that?” One of the boys asked but it was silent.

Sarah followed you upstairs and Rafe went to check his phone. He saw a few texts from Sofia but he ignored them. He placed his phone back on the table and raised a brow at nothing in particular.

“What was that? She was fine like a minute ago.”

“I don’t know man, she must’ve seen something on your phone when it buzzed ‘cause she seemed happy like three minutes ago!”

You were fast asleep now with Sarah massaging your scalp while you dreamed of how easy things used to be when it was just you and him.

To be honest in your head it was Rafe that was massaging your scalp while you slept next to him, not Sarah.

“Look at this view! Rafe it’s beautiful!” You said as you admired the beauty surrounding you both.

The salty breeze of the ocean giving you goosebumps as it hugged your skin. The sand and the water colliding together like they were made for each other, while the sky was displaying gold rays of sun making the sand that was sticking to your skin radiate your features more.

“It really is beautiful!” He smiled softly while watching you with only love in his eyes.

This was the moment when he truly knew that you were the one for him. That he loves you.

“I love you!” He said with a genuine and soft voice.

You turned around shocked, unsure if what you hear really came out of his mouth. You were not expecting this.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to kno-“ But before he was able to finish his sentence, your lips crashed onto his, hands going behind his neck, while you got closer on the picnic blanket.

When you pulled away you both were smiling like fools.

“I love you too!” You said without hesitation as he pulled you against his chest. You sat there in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset as you replayed his words over and over in your head with a grin on your face.

You looked over your shoulder again to see what he was doing, but he wasn’t there. You sat up panicked as you started to call out for him, but to no avail. He wasn’t answering.

You looked around desperately but all you could see was a bunch of sand, no track of Rafe.

“Rafe!” You called out again, and again.

“Rafe, where are you?”

“Rafe, please, this is not funny!”

“Rafe, please don’t leave me all alone!”

“Baby, please come back!”

a/n: Hey guys!!! Hope you like the chapter. This is PART 2 of my series IslyIp!! Please leave a feedback so I know if I should keep going and also if you have any requests please lmk!!

[writingwisterias]

Okay so hear me out ( hello first, where are my manners )

but rly hear me out : Leon and the reader, the reader is pregnant, and the baby is born on September 30th. Like I can’t be the only one who thought about it ? Anyway, please don’t die I love your stories.

stay hydrated folks

Hello!

I actually love this, I could feel the angst and fluff. I will try not to die 🫡 I hope you enjoy and have a good day! And everyone that sees this is your reminder to drink water or anything please (Not proof Read I'm sorry it posted before I got the chance!)

I'm so sorry for how late this is please forgive me! I wanted to flesh it out a bit

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy, Child birth (Not graphic), PTSD, Establsihed Relationship

ID!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

The red circle on the calendar was just a constant reminder to him. Not only because of the impending arrival of his child. But also of that one fateful night -- the day that changed his life. He would spend the entire year trying to forget about it and think of anything other than this. It was the devil's work he swore in that doctor's office when the date was announced. He watched you freeze, a fake smile now replacing the real one you had when you entered the office. Leon hated that one date could still have so much effect on the two of you. 

You grasped his hand during the rest of the appointment, and you watched as he sunk into himself, his eyes turning hazy as he dissociated. Your fingers squeezing his desperately trying to get him to come back. You would never blame him, the horrors he had been through were enough to break a thousand men and he was still here. You had asked him years ago to explain everything to allow the secret he had kept so long to be heard by someone he trusted to help him heal. Since then the pregnancy had turned into a nine-month countdown to the date. The small kicks he felt every night fought desperately against the feeling, the reminder. The life you were carrying to involve him in a never-ending circle of happiness was already trying to heal their dad. Leon was too good of a man to let this affect the relationship with the child, besides due dates can be wrong all the time. Sometimes the baby will come later, he might be lucky.

You watched him become nervous as the countdown began as you were in the final weeks of the pregnancy. It became a routine for Leon to stare at the red circle every morning as he made breakfast and coffee. Only getting worse since the date was only a few days away at this point. The nursery was completely decorated with things you had both collected yourselves and had been given in the baby shower. All of the baby grows were washed and put away, a large stockpile of diapers in the changing table ready to be used up. You were both just waiting on the baby. 

“Good morning” You spoke softly as you entered the room. Your voice is now the only thing taking his attention away from the calendar. Leon smiled at you, his oversized shirt draped over your body. “Morning” He mumbled, hand instantly smoothing the fabric smiling at the little kicks that greeted him. It wasn’t unusual for him to be awake early, his military timer being one of the things that never left him. Despite your attempts to train it out of him in favour for a few more hours in bed. “What’s for breakfast today? It smells good” You hummed sweetly looking over at the hob. 

You tried to hide it, you really did but Leon didn’t miss the twinge of pain in your face. The small adjustment you gave yourself as pain washed over you. “Are you alright?” He asked ignoring your previous question entirely. His touch was gentle a simple reminder of his support. You nodded muttering a small ‘yes’ despite your features clenched together displaying otherwise. His hand moved gently on your lower back, the movements distracting you from the pain. You knew what the date was but you also knew what the pain meant. You just didn’t have the heart to tell him yet. After spending the whole night hoping that maybe it was just a Braxton hix and they would fade away eventually. However, the world wasn’t that kind. “Love, please don’t lie to me. Not when you are this close” 

“The date-”

“I know the date…I don’t care not right now. Tell me what’s happening” 

You turned to him, finally able to stand up straighter now the pain had subsided. Leon knew what you were getting at, he’d read all the books and leaflets the doctor recommended. All to be able to recognise the signs. Leon ensured that he was as prepared as he could be but now it was happening he froze. Panic rose in his system as you had yet another contraction in front of him. The timings were too close together, you had waited for hours as he slept. Hoping it won’t fall on this date. For his sake. 

“Do we need to leave?” He asked, his voice catching in his throat. You nodded a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you held onto him, fingers digging in his arm as you let the pain subside. To his credit he worked quickly, gathering the bag and items you had prepared and putting them into the car. He was careful as he led you towards the car. One eye on the road and the other on you, pride swelling in his chest at how well you were handling yourself. He thought he would be more lost today, that the date would distract him from being present with you. It did occasionally, every time someone would remind you both of the fact the baby was arriving on your due date he would go silent. Get lost in his mind again. Only to be brought back by a softer comment from you or your touch. The same way you would normally bring him back after spending years with him.  

When getting himself coffee or ice chips for you; he would make sure to avoid the ER, the screams triggering his flashbacks. You were proud of him, he never let it show. Despite the circumstances, you knew he would be the best partner you could get in this situation. 

You tried to hold back from making any sound but the more you needed to push the louder you got. He didn’t blame you, he could see that you were trying for his sake. The hospital was already proving to be challenging with all of the other mothers throughout the day going through the same process just a few rooms down. Leon could feel your attempts to be silent in the way you gripped his hand. You saw Leon wince at every moan and flinch at every scream you made. It didn’t help the baby was progressing slowly meaning the process was dragged out. It seemed like the entire day was attempting to make this harder for him. 

Yet despite everything he still helped you through it, complimenting your progress and how well you were doing. “You can do it, You are doing so good” He whispered in your hair, placing kisses not caring for the sweat that coated your skin. His kisses were cold and welcomed against your sweaty skin. You shook your head exhaustion lingering in the corner ready to take over. The final moments were the hardest for him. Leon tried so hard not to let it affect him but the room was suddenly too loud as it now filled with the baby’s cries, the nurses praising you as you also cried. The wails reminded him of all the distant ones he heard as he ran around the police station, of all the people he couldn’t save as he was trapped inside. Your deeper groans of pain sounded similar to Marvin’s as he spoke helping Leon out of the station. 

You felt his presence, but he wasn’t there, his eyes watching over you with that hazed look again. You wouldn’t hold it against him; it was enough that he was here physically. You knew he hated the hospital, the sounds of everyone injured and in pain. You’ve spent countless times trying to force him to get his sickness checked out by doctors instead of googling the symptoms. However, you knew that once the noise reduced, he would come back, and he would enjoy the moment. 

Guilt washed over him as he held the baby the small bundle watching him with curious eyes. You were asleep, having some well-deserved rest. The machines beeped around him, the noise of the hospital fading as he looked back into those blue eyes. They were so small in his arms, their head cradled perfectly in the palm of his hand. This is what he endured and fought for that night, the chance to have a life at the end of it. To have happiness and love surround him in even the smallest ways. Leon didn’t know he was going to be tracked down and blacked mailed by the government for just surviving the events of Raccoon City. Neither did he know that he was going to have to sign his life away putting what he assumed as pure luck into training. He had just watched you champion this for 9 months, endure days of morning sickness, all of the growing pains without a complaint. Looking forward to the future when you can finally hold the baby. He supposed in his own long-winded way he did the same. 

All the nightmares suddenly didn’t matter anymore, not when a positive thing overtook them. Soon to be interrupted by softer cries in the night. The small bundle he held in his arms wasn’t just a new birthday to celebrate for them but for him as well. For the new Leon that wouldn’t let that one night dictate the rest of his life, haunt him forever. It was his chance at a rebirth, at a new beginning. Not only as a husband and father but just as himself. 

[skyahri]

Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake

Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.

He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.

When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.

He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.

However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.

It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.

He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.

When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)

People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.

You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.

"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."

"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."

Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.

"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."

They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.

"Wait, WHAT?"

Naruto Uzumaki

"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"

Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.

Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?

Turns out, that damn fox was right.

After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.

You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.

You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.

"You're pregnant."

Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.

"I'm pregnant."

Shikamaru Nara

He really should've seen this coming.

Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.

Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.

He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.

"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."

It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.

But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.

He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.

This was fine.

Not troublesome in the least.

"No, this is... good."

Kakashi Hatake

He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.

He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.

"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"

He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."

You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.

You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.

"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."

"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."

"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."

He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.

He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.

He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.

But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.

He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."

"Seemed more like panicking to me."

"... shut up."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in sickness and in health

words: 1k

warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw

“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“uh, yeah…” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.

“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.

“um… i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”

“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 

rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.

“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.

“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.

“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”

“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.

“huh?” 

“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”

--

“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.

“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”

“um… actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”

“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”

“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.

“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.

--

“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.

you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”

your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”

you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.

“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 

“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.

the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.

“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”

“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.

“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”

you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.

“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 

you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.

“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”

“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.

you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.

“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.

you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.

“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.

“yes, thank you.”

“so, just to quickly go over your results…” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 

“what's wrong?” rafe asks.

“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.

“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”

“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”

“im… im pregnant?”

“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”

you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.

“baby… we are gonna be parents.”

you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.

“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.

“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”

“im… im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie