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gojorgeous · 1 year ago

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"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.”

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong.

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.”

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.”

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.”

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–”

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–”

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry.

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm?

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer.

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach.

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope.

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road.

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.”

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.”

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.”

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare.

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to.

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto.

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck.

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed.

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home.

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.”

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.”

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.”

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–”

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.”

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours.

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly.

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs.

“Feel anything?” he asks.

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter.

“Sleep, baby.”

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot.

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs.

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.”

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint.

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-”

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.”

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.”

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place.

“No, baby.”

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully.

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin.

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.”

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight.

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants.

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead.

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit.

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives.

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him.

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need.

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled.

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away.

“Gonna knot you good, princess.”

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes.

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk.

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss.

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything.

“Sugu–”

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling.

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens.

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness.

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that.

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…”

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much.

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine.

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.”

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams.

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.”

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it.

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…”

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl.

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised.

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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orangeblossomsintheair · 16 days ago

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LIONHEART (1/3) – LN4

summary : lando’s anxious journey as a dad-to-be

wc : 11k

an : this fic is kind of the antithesis of my whole “casual blog” thing but we close our eyes!! not beta read and quite a mess. it’s also longer so i hope that’s okay :>

Lando had always been confident.

On the track, in the spotlight, with a helmet on his head and a steering wheel in his hands. But when you told him you were pregnant, all of that certainty evaporated in an instant.

He just stood there in the middle of your kitchen, staring at you as if you’d just announced you were moving to Mars.

“You’re joking,” he said after a beat, his voice higher than usual, almost squeaky.

“Why would I joke about this?” you replied, holding up the positive test, your own emotions a mix of excitement and nervousness.

He blinked, his aquamarine eyes wide with disbelief, before breaking into a grin so wide it could’ve lit up the whole room. “I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yes, Lando,” you said, trying not to laugh at how genuinely dumbfounded he looked.

“A dad?” he repeated, as though saying it louder would make it sink in faster.

“Yes, Lando,” you said again, this time laughing outright.

He crossed the room in two strides, pulling you into his arms and lifting you off your feet.

He spun you around with an uncontainable excitement, his hoodie brushing against your cheek as he held you tight.

“This is insane,” he mumbled into your hair. “We’re going to be parents!”

“Careful,” you said, swatting at him lightly as he set you down. “You don’t want to shake the baby loose already.”

“Oh, right,” he said, letting go and stepping back. His head jerked up as he processed your words, looking alarmed. “Wait, is that a thing? Can I- are you okay? Are we okay? Is the baby okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Lando, I found out like an hour ago. I’m pretty sure we’re fine.”

He paced the kitchen, running a hand through his curls as his grin came and went in waves. “A baby. We’re having a baby. Oh my God. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know yet, Lando,” you said, sitting down on the couch to watch him spiral. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

“What if it’s twins?” he gasped, spinning around to face you. “Oh, I should call my mum. No, wait, too soon. We need to come up with a plan first. Have you eaten today? You need to eat. Should we go to a doctor? Ooh, they need to be a really good doctor if they’re handling my wife and baby. Should I buy baby books? Do people still read books, or do we just Google everything now?”

“Lando,” you said firmly, grabbing his hand to pull him to a stop. “Breathe.”

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, nodding. “Right. Breathing. I can do that.”

He knelt down in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Sorry, I’m just… this is the biggest thing we’ve ever done.”

You smiled, brushing a curl out of his face. “It is. But we’ve got this, Lando.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your belly, even though it wasn’t showing yet. “Hi in there,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “I’m your dad. I can’t promise I’ll always know what I’m doing, but I promise I’m going to love you more than anything in the world.”

—-

Lando had always been a man of routine– wake up, train, meetings, practice, race, repeat.

But preparing to be a dad? That was a whole different kind of race.

“I need a list,” he muttered one evening, pacing the living room while you sat on the couch, trying not to laugh. “No, like, several lists. One for baby stuff, one for the hospital bag, one for- what else do we need? Is there a book about this? Should I read a book?”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, “you’re spiraling again.”

“I’m not spiraling! I’m… planning,” he countered, though the way he was raking his hand through his curls said otherwise. “We have to be ready, love. What if the baby comes early? What if I’m away for a race?”

You set aside the baby name book you were half-heartedly skimming and grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside you. “We’ll figure it out, okay? You’re doing great.”

He groaned, slumping against the couch. “Am I, though? I can barely keep my plants alive. How am I supposed to keep a tiny human alive?”

“First of all, I’m the one who keeps your plants alive,” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him. “And second, you’re going to be an amazing dad. You care so much already. It’s sweet.”

“But what if I miss something important?” he said, turning to you with wide, anxious eyes. “Like the first kick, or the first cry, or- or- what if you need me and I’m halfway across the world?”

You reached up to smooth his curls, trying to ease his tension. “Lando, you’ve already done so much. The private suite, rearranging your travel schedule to be here for every appointment… You’re balancing everything perfectly.”

—-

The next weekend, Lando was halfway across the world for a race.

He had tried to keep his focus on the track, but his mind kept drifting back to you, sitting at home with your feet propped up, texting him updates about every little thing- what you were craving, how you were feeling, and whether the baby had started kicking.

During a rare free afternoon between practice sessions, he found himself wandering into a bookstore. He had no real plan, he just knew he wanted to learn everything there was to know about being a dad.

The parenting section was tucked in a quiet corner of the shop, and as he stood there surrounded by shelves filled with brightly colored covers promising to teach him how to raise a baby, the weight of it all started to settle in.

At first, Lando was focused, scanning the titles with a determined expression. “The New Dad’s Guide to Baby Basics,” “How to Survive Your Baby’s First Year,” “Sleep Training 101.”

He picked up a few books, flipping through them as if the answers to all his worries might jump out at him.

He grabbed his phone, quickly dialing you.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice soft and warm. “Quick question- do you think the baby’s gonna like white noise machines? Because this one book says they’re a lifesaver, but another one says they’re not necessary. And then there’s this other chapter about swaddling- do you know how to swaddle? Because I don’t.”

You laughed softly on the other end of the line. “Lando, you’re overthinking again. We’ve got months to figure this all out.”

“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls. “I just… I want to be good at this. I want to be ready.”

And then, as he stood there in the middle of the bookstore, holding a stack of baby books, it hit him.

He was going to be a dad.

The thought wasn’t new. It had been there since the day you told him you were pregnant. But standing there, picturing your little family and the tiny person who was going to look up to him, rely on him, need him… it was overwhelming in the best way.

“Lando?” you said gently, pulling him back to the moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, though his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat, his free hand gripping the book tightly.

“I just-” He laughed nervously. “It’s a lot, you know? I mean, I’m going to be someone’s dad. That’s huge. What if I mess up? I’m practically a child!”

You smiled, wishing you could hug him through the phone. “You won’t mess up. You’re already doing amazing, and the baby’s not even here yet. You care so much, Lando. That’s what matters.”

He took a deep breath, letting your words sink in. “Thanks, love. I just… I want to do this right. For you. For them.”

“You will,” you reassured him. “And for the record, I think the baby’s going to love white noise machines and your ridiculous dad jokes.”

Lando chuckled, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “You think? Because I’ve already got a few saved up. Want to hear one?”

“No,” you teased, laughing. “Save them for when the baby’s old enough to groan at them.”

He grinned, his confidence slowly returning as he balanced the books in his arms. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But just so you know, they’re gold.”

After that call, Lando left the store with an armful of books and a heart that was a little fuller, a little steadier.

He still had moments of doubt, of wondering if he was truly ready for this massive change in his life.

But one thing he knew for sure- he couldn’t wait to meet the little person who was already changing his world.

—-

Even as Lando threw himself into preparation mode with the same energy he brought to a race weekend, scouring books and online articles about parenting, he still often got hilariously sidetracked by baby-related gadgets and gear.

“Did you know they make mini race suits for babies?” he asked one night, sprawled across the couch with his phone in hand, his eyes wide with excitement.

You glanced up from your own book, raising an eyebrow. “Lando, the baby’s not even born yet. Don’t you think it’s a little early for racing gear?”

“But imagine the photos!” he argued, sitting up and holding his phone out toward you like it was the discovery of the century.

On the screen was a tiny race suit in McLaren orange. “Our kid’s first photo: full McLaren merch. It’ll be iconic!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Iconic or not, I think diapers are going to be a bigger priority than race suits.”

“Why not both?” he shot back with a grin, already scrolling to find more baby-sized racing gear.

“Oh my god, look at this! miniature headphones for the paddock! Our baby could be sitting in the garage, looking like a proper little team member.”

“Lando,” you said, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile tugged at your lips, “our baby isn’t going to be born straight into a Formula 1 garage.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Blasphemy! Of course they are. It’s practically tradition.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help feeling touched by his enthusiasm. He wasn’t just excited; he was genuinely looking forward to every part of being a dad, even the ridiculous ones.

That wasn’t to say there weren’t more.. unwise moments even with non-racing related baby items.

Like the time he came home from a race weekend with three identical diaper bags.

“Lando,” you said, holding one up. “Why do we need three of these?”

“They’re different brands,” he explained, looking genuinely confused as to why you were asking. “What if one of them is better? Or has more pockets?”

“Pockets?”

“Yeah! Babies need a lot of stuff, right? I saw a mom at the airport with one of these, and she looked like she had her life together. I want you to have your life together too.”

You burst out laughing, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Stop laughing! I’m trying to be prepared!”

“You’re overprepared,” you said, setting the bags down and walking over to wrap your arms around him. “But that’s why I love you.”

But it also wasn’t all fun and games.

Lando was determined to be as supportive as possible, especially when it came to your comfort. He took “protective husband” to a whole new level during your first trimester, hovering like an overzealous pit crew.

“Lando, I can still carry my own bag,” you told him one morning as he practically wrestled your tote out of your hands.

“Nope,” he said firmly, slinging it over his shoulder like it was his new personal mission. “You’re carrying our future world champion. I’ve got this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s a tote bag, not a tire. I think I can manage.”

“Well, I’m not taking any chances,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “What kind of dad would I be if I let you strain yourself this early?”

“A sane one?” you teased.

He huffed, clutching the bag like it was a trophy. “I’ll ignore that slander. Now, where’s your water bottle? And your snacks? Have you eaten? Do you need to sit down?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Lando, I’m fine. You don’t need to act like I’m about to collapse any second.”

“Not on my watch,” he declared, marching ahead of you with your bag.

“Do you even know how many articles I’ve read about pregnancy? You’re supposed to avoid heavy lifting, stay hydrated, and-”

“-and avoid stress,” you interrupted, smirking. “Which you’re causing right now with all this hovering.”

“I’m helping,” he corrected, spinning around to face you with a determined look. “And besides, you’d thank me if you saw the kind of stuff I’ve been reading. Did you know some women crave chalk during pregnancy? Chalk! What if that happens to you? I need to be prepared!”

“Lando, I’m not craving chalk,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Not yet,” he countered, narrowing his eyes like it was only a matter of time. “But when you do, I’ll be ready with… I don’t know, chalk alternatives or something.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing on your phone? Researching chalk alternatives?”

“Among other things,” he said with a shrug, completely serious.

“Did you know we might need a whole new mattress? Pregnant people need optimal support. And I saw this thing about belly bands. Do you want one? I can order it right now. Oh! And don’t even get me started on prenatal yoga-”

You reached out to grab his arm, laughing. “Okay, slow down, Mr. Norris. You’re going to give yourself a stress rash before we even get to the second trimester.”

He looked at you sheepishly, his determination softening into a shy smile. “I just… I want to do this right, you know? I’ve never done this before.”

You softened, cupping his cheek. “I know, love. And you’re doing amazing. But you don’t have to do everything perfectly. Just… be here. That’s all I need.”

His shoulders relaxed a little, and he leaned into your touch. “Okay,” he murmured.

Then, after a beat: “But I’m still carrying the bag.”

“Of course you are,” you said, shaking your head as he flashed you that trademark cheeky grin.

From then on, Lando took his role as your personal assistant very seriously. He stocked the fridge with all your favorite snacks, some of which you hadn’t even asked for.

“I saw this article about pickles and peanut butter,” he said one day, holding up a jar. “Do you think you’ll want to try it? Should I get bread?”

“You’re the one who’s going to end up eating it,” you teased.

And when it came to appointments, he was like a man on a mission. He set reminders, packed snacks for the waiting room, and even insisted on bringing a notebook to jot down questions.

“I don’t want to forget anything important,” he said, scribbling furiously while the doctor explained prenatal vitamins.

“You’re going to end up with a full-on pregnancy thesis,” you joked.

“Good,” he replied, deadpan.

“Because I need to know everything.”

He was equal parts adorable and exhausting, but one thing was clear: Lando was already the most devoted dad-to-be you could have asked for.

—-

Lando insisted on attending every single doctor’s appointment, even if it meant rearranging his training schedule or skipping a media event.

He didn’t care what he had to move around, he was going to be there.

Your husband had always been incredibly aware of his public image, and he knew his absence in a lot of McLaren PR videos was beginning to be noticed.

The whispers started subtly at first, just a few fans commenting on his social media posts, wondering why he wasn’t posting as frequently, why he wasn’t sharing his usual behind-the-scenes content.

But over time, it started to get louder. On Twitter, the rumors spread like wildfire.

Fans questioning his commitment to racing, accusing him of not showing up enough for the sport.

He couldn’t give a damn, to be honest.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he told you one day as you both waited in the ultrasound room.

He was fidgeting with the strap of his McLaren cap, spinning it around in his hands like it was the only thing grounding him.

“What if they show us something important, like the baby’s heartbeat, and I’m not here? I’d never forgive myself.”

“You’ll see everything,” you assured him, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. “I promise you won’t miss a thing.”

He exhaled deeply but didn’t stop fidgeting. “Do you think they’re okay? Like, really okay? What if the baby’s too small? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, giving him a pointed look. “Breathe. Everything’s fine. You’re panicking for nothing.”

He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just... I’ve never been this nervous before. Not even before my first race.”

When the ultrasound tech finally entered the room and began the scan, Lando nearly jumped out of his seat.

He leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, his hand clutching yours like it was a lifeline.

“Alright,” the tech said with a kind smile, turning the screen toward you both. “Here’s your baby.”

Lando froze, his eyes wide as the faint image of your baby appeared on the monitor. “That’s… them?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“That’s them,” the tech confirmed, moving the wand slightly. “And if you look right here, you’ll see their heartbeat.”

She pointed to a tiny flicker on the screen, and Lando’s breath caught. “Is that… Is that their heart?”

“Yes,” she said warmly. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

Lando’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. He blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep them from falling, but one slipped down his cheek anyway.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “That’s them. That’s our baby.”

You reached up to wipe the tear from his cheek, your own eyes misty. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?”

“They are,” he said, his voice full of awe.

Then he turned to you with the biggest grin you’d ever seen, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “They’ve already got your heart, don’t they?”

“And yours,” you added softly, squeezing his hand.

Lando laughed quietly, his free hand running through his hair. “This is insane. Like, actually insane. That’s a real human. Our human. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you replied, smiling at him. “Just feel it.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting back to the screen. “They’re so small,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he let out a shaky laugh.

“God, I hope they get your patience. And your smarts. And maybe your taste in music too, because mine’s questionable at best.”

“They’ll be a little bit of both of us,” you said. “The good and the bad.”

“And hopefully less of the bad,” he joked, his smile growing wider. “Although if they’re anything like me, they’ll probably be a little naughty regardless.”

He spent a few moments just staring in silent awe of the ultrasound before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. “More than okay, Lando. We’re going to be great.”

For the rest of the appointment, Lando couldn’t stop staring at the monitor.

He asked the tech at least three times if he could get extra printouts of the ultrasound, and as soon as you left the room, he was texting the photo to his parents.

“You won’t believe this,” he said excitedly as he hit send. “They’re already perfect. I mean, look at them!”

You laughed, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a grin, slipping the ultrasound photo into his wallet like it was his most prized possession.

—-

Lando stood in the kitchen, pacing around the table with the cake in front of him.

His hands were a blur, adjusting every little decoration as if this one cake would determine the future of the entire Norris family.

He wiped his brow for what felt like the tenth time, clearly worked up.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Lando asked again, his voice laced with nerves, as he fiddled with the tiny blue and pink ribbons on top of the cake.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him with a grin. “Lando, it’s just cake. I don’t need a fireworks show or a parade. Just let me eat it. We’re finding out if we’re having a mini-me or mini-you today, not the cure for world hunger.”

He looked at you, eyes wide with mock concern. “I know! But this is important, okay? This cake isn’t just cake. It’s the cake that’s gonna reveal if our baby’s gonna have my style or your... I don’t know, your taste in TV shows.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, so my TV shows are the problem now? I seem to remember you binge-watching those ridiculous reality shows last week.”

Lando chuckled, adjusting the cake for the third time. “Fine. But I will not apologize for the occasional guilty pleasure, okay?”

Before you could fire back, there was a knock at the door, and Lando’s parents stormed in, as excited as ever, clearly eager to be part of the big reveal.

His mom was practically jumping up and down, already holding a bottle of champagne in one hand.

“Alright, alright, we ready for this?!” she practically shouted, already bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Lando, you didn’t mess up the cake, did you?”

Lando puffed out his chest, trying to seem cool, but you could tell he was as jittery as a kid before Christmas. “What do you think? I’m a pro. I’ve got this under control.”

His dad leaned in and clapped him on the back with a knowing look. “Sure, sure. It’s just cake, son. Don’t overthink it.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lando replied, rolling his eyes but clearly taking comfort in his dad’s easy confidence.

“Do I need to set up a tent or something for you? I can go grab the calm-down snacks,” his mom teased, already rifling through the bags of baby gifts she had brought with her.

Lando gave her a playful glare. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m just...you know, a little excited.”

He turned back to the cake, brushing his hands against his jeans as if trying to shake off his nerves. “Right. Big moment.”

You crossed your arms, trying to stifle your laughter at the drama of it all. “You know, you’re acting like you’re about to drive the final lap of a Grand Prix, not slice a cake, right?”

Lando shot you a look, half guilty, half defensive. “What do you mean? This is important, okay?”

“Yeah, because the world is watching,” you quipped, leaning against the counter with a grin.

“Absolutely! What if the cake doesn’t come out perfectly? What if it’s not the right color? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay if it’s not perfect. It’s just a cake.”

He sighed dramatically. “You don’t get it. This is a moment. A huge one! I can’t mess this up.”

(Lando’s parents exchanged amused glances. “He’s got it bad, huh?” his dad whispered to his mom.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” she replied with a wink.)

“You’re really sure you’re not panicking?” you teased, nudging him, raising an eyebrow.

Lando flashed you a grin. “Nope. I’ve totally got it handled. This is the most important moment of our lives, and I’m... handling it.”

The room filled up with laughter and chatter as family and friends settled into their spots, everyone eager to be a part of the big moment.

The cake, a simple vanilla sponge with soft pastel decorations, sat in front of you all like a ticking clock. Lando’s hands hovered above it, shaking slightly as he gripped the knife.

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Lando, it’s going to be fine.”

He gave you a nervous smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just- just a little excited.”

He cut the first slice carefully, holding his breath. His eyes darted between the cake and you, trying to gauge the moment, the color, the reaction.

“Is it-” Lando’s mom leaned forward, eager and almost bouncing in her seat. “Is it blue or pink?”

When Lando saw the blue filling spill out from the cake, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

His hands trembled for a moment, and then, without warning, his lips curled into a grin so wide it could have lit up the whole room.

He threw his arms up in the air, as if he’d just crossed the finish line, his chest puffing out like he’d just clinched a Grand Prix victory.

“YES!” he yelled, his voice carrying the excitement and relief of a race win. He even did a little fist pump, completely caught up in the moment, forgetting the cake still had to be served.

His family burst into laughter, but Lando didn't care. He was riding high on the adrenaline of the moment, his face flushed with joy. He turned to you, eyes wide and sparkling, as if the world had just handed him the greatest trophy imaginable.

“I’ve got a son! A SON! I’m gonna be a dad to a little boy!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in a playful tone, as if he was addressing a crowd at a podium.

“Lando, you’re not actually racing a Grand Prix right now,” you said, your laughter shaking your voice. “You don’t need to act like you just won Monaco!”

Lando paused for a split second, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, but I am! This is my Monaco moment!”

—-

Before your son arrived, the two of you spent countless hours brainstorming names, debating, and laughing at your ideas, the excitement of becoming parents finally hitting both of you.

You sat on the couch in the private suite, your legs curled up underneath you as you flicked through baby name books.

Lando, sprawled beside you with his laptop open, occasionally paused to glance at you, a goofy grin on his face.

“You know what would be funny?” Lando said, his eyes lighting up. “If we named him after a race track. Like, Monaco or Spa.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused but skeptical. “Monaco? Really? We’re naming our kid after a place?”

Lando shrugged with a playful grin. “It’s iconic. Imagine saying, ‘This is my son, Spa Norris.’ Sounds like he’s destined to be a Formula 1 champion, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to name our son after a race track, Lando.”

He pouted, pretending to be disappointed. “You’re no fun. I thought you’d be into it.”

You shot him a playful look. “Well, if you’re going to go that route, we might as well name him something like 'Aston' or 'Ferrari'.”

Lando dramatically gasped. “Ferrari Norris?” he echoed, as if he’d just had an epiphany. “That actually sounds pretty cool.” He immediately began typing it into his phone. “Imagine the headlines: ‘Little Ferrari Norris shows up at the karting track, stealing the show already.’”

You chuckled, giving him a teasing nudge. “Okay, okay. Let’s put a pin in that one, but seriously, we need something that isn’t a car or a race track. We need to think long-term. He’s not going to be five years old forever.”

Lando sat back, tapping his fingers on the side of his laptop, deep in thought. “How about Maximus? It sounds strong, right?”

You gave him a flat look. “You realize that would just end up as Max, and then we’d have to deal with every comparison to Verstappen and Max, right?”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly as you pointed out the potential issue. He paused, tapping his fingers on the laptop as he processed your words.

“Oh, right,” he said slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Maximus could be a disaster. Imagine our kid being called Max every time. He’ll spend his whole life being compared to Verstappen, and Max.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, not ideal. We’re already in the spotlight enough with you and everything, we don’t need to add fuel to the fire.”

Lando groaned, slouching slightly in his chair. “Okay, so no Maximus. What about... Thor? Sounds strong, right? A god or something.”

You blinked, trying to keep a straight face. “Lando, we're naming our kid, not preparing him for a Marvel movie.”

“I’m just saying,” he grinned, holding his hands up in mock defense. “Thor Norris. Sounds pretty cool, right? Imagine him on the playground.”

“Yeah, until he gets bullied for being named after a thunder god,” you replied with a teasing smile. “We want a name that’s strong, but also, you know, normal.”

Lando sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “Why is this so hard? This is supposed to be the fun part!”

“Because you're overthinking it,” you said, leaning over to ruffle his hair. “We don't need to make him sound like a superhero. We need something that suits him, something that feels right.”

Lando scrolled through a few more names on his phone. “What about Leo? You know, like the lion?”

You looked over at him, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. “Leo.. huh, I kind of like that.”

Lando met your gaze, his smile softening. “I do too. It feels strong. But it’s also… warm. I can imagine him growing up with that name.”

You smiled, already picturing your son, little Leo, chasing after you both in a go-kart, or laughing as he wore his tiny McLaren onesie.

“I think that’s the one,” you said softly, your heart warming at the thought of it.

Lando nodded, his voice quieter now. “Leo Norris. Yeah… I like it.”

You both sat there for a while, soaking in the reality that soon, you’d have a little one to love and raise.

A mix of excitement and nervous energy filled the air. But above it all, you both felt the quiet, comforting certainty that you’d chosen the right name.

“Leo Norris,” Lando repeated, his grin returning. “You’re going to be so cool, little guy.”

—-

By the time the baby’s due date was right around the corner, Lando had practically perfected the art of juggling his high-pressure career with impending fatherhood.

He FaceTimed you every chance he got during race weekends, even if it was just for a few minutes, to check in and ask how you and the baby were doing.

Every call was an opportunity for him to make silly faces at your growing belly, as if your unborn child could already understand what he was doing.

“How’s my little team doing today?” Lando asked, his face beaming from the screen, grinning like a kid with a secret.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘little team’? It’s still just one person, you know.”

He paused, holding his hands up as though giving you a game plan. “It’s all about the future, babe. Right now, it’s just me and you, but soon, we’re gonna have our first real team member. And I’m gonna be the best team principal there ever was.” He winked, clearly enjoying the idea.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure. First, you have to figure out how to change a diaper before you’re giving out performance reviews.”

Lando's grin faded slightly, and his expression became more serious. “I can change a tire under pressure, but... a diaper? You’re sure I’m gonna be okay with that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’ve changed car tires with a stopwatch ticking down. A diaper is like... one percent of the stress.”

Lando scratched his head, clearly still not totally convinced. “Yeah, but there’s a lot more wiggle with a baby than with a tire.”

You chuckled, hearing the nerves in his voice despite his usual cocky demeanor. “I’m sure you’ll manage. You’re gonna be a great dad. Besides, how bad can it be? Worst-case scenario, we just put him in a McLaren onesie and call it a day.”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Wait, does McLaren make baby clothes?” he asked, suddenly distracted, pulling out his phone.

You sighed, trying not to laugh. “Focus, Lando, the baby comes first, not McLaren merch.”

But he didn’t hear you.

He was too busy scrolling through his phone, searching for baby-sized McLaren gear. “Just imagine! Tiny little race suits! Our kid’s first proper race suit! It’ll be legendary*”

You smirked. “Right, because that’s all a baby needs, to be decked out in McLaren gear. A future world champion and fashion icon.”

Lando nodded seriously, still scrolling. “Exactly. The sooner they start looking the part, the sooner they’ll feel the pressure to deliver.”

You shook your head, your lips curving into a smile. “You’re definitely going to spoil this kid rotten.”

“I’m just preparing them for greatness!” Lando declared, his voice mock-serious. “Besides, they’re going to have someone to look up to.”

You laughed, a soft teasing tone in your voice. “You mean you? The guy who keeps asking me if he’ll be cool enough for a toddler?”

Lando looked at you, eyebrows furrowing with mock panic. “I just want them to think I’m cool, okay? What if they’re disappointed? What if they grow up to think I’m just some guy who drives a car really fast and wears too many McLaren hats?”

You snorted, not even trying to hide your amusement. “Lando, you drive a Formula 1 car for a living. I think you’ll manage to impress a toddler.”

“Yeah, well, toddlers are tough critics,” he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. “What if they want a cooler dad? Like, what if they see some famous soccer player or something and think he’s way cooler than their dad?”

“Lando, the kid isn’t even born yet, and you’re already stressing about being the coolest parent?” You shook your head, trying to hold back laughter. “Relax. You’re gonna be the coolest dad, hands down.”

“You really think so?” Lando asked, his tone suddenly turning sincere, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice full of confidence. “You’re gonna be amazing. And anyway, when they get older, they'll think you're the coolest just because you drive an F1 car. That’s literally a dream job for kids.”

Lando smiled at you through the screen, clearly reassured. “Alright, alright. I can live with that.” He paused for a moment, his

“I’m gonna train them up. Baby steps, right? First, it’s McLaren onesies. Then, they’ll be driving go-karts by five.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I think you’ve got a few years before that happens, buddy.”

—-

Lando had been pacing the living room for what felt like hours, his hands in his hair and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You watched him from the couch, amused by how obviously he was working up the courage to say something.

Finally, unable to take his fidgeting any longer, you set your book down and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright, spill it,” you said, crossing your arms.

He stopped pacing, turning to you with a sheepish grin. “Okay, don’t get mad, but… can I tell Carlos?”

You blinked at him, confused. “Tell Carlos what?”

“The baby!” Lando blurted, throwing his hands in the air. “I swear I won’t say anything to anyone else, but I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. And Carlos, he’s my best mate in the paddock, you know? and I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. He’s good at keeping secrets! Remember when I told him about… well, you know…”

You smirked. “The time you accidentally spilled coffee all over Zak’s favorite race notes and blamed the wind?”

Lando groaned, running a hand through his curls. “Yes, that! He didn’t tell anyone!”

He leaned in closer, his big, pleading eyes locking onto yours. “Please, love. I need someone to talk to about this in the paddock. I promise it’ll stay between me and him. And you, of course. You’re the boss.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

“But adorable?” he pressed, grinning mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. “Alright, alright. You can tell Carlos. But only Carlos. If I see headlines about ‘Baby Norris’ next week, I’m blaming you.”

Lando let out a victorious whoop, throwing his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You won’t regret this, I promise! I’ll handle it perfectly.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased. “Just don’t come crying to me if he accidentally tells the entire grid.”

“He won’t!” Lando assured you, already pulling out his phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Spaniard to swear into secrecy.”

—-

Lando, despite his enthusiasm around friends and family, had always been the type to keep his personal life as far away from the media as possible, especially when it came to you and your pregnancy.

He’d pulled you aside earlier on, his brow furrowed in a mix of excitement and concern.

“I just want to protect you from all that stress, love,” he’d said softly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “The media’s only gonna make everything harder. Let’s keep it to ourselves and family and friends until we’re ready.”

You’d agreed, knowing his intention was to shield you from any unnecessary pressure.

So, you kept things under wraps, avoiding public appearances and letting Lando handle the media while you focused on your health and well-being.

But as your pregnancy progressed and your bump started to show, it became harder to stay out of the public eye.

At first, you’d manage to sneak in a few appearances, sitting in the background, away from the cameras. But soon, you started pulling back even more, skipping races altogether. The tabloids, however, didn’t miss a beat.

Lando was pacing back and forth in your living room, muttering to himself as he read through the latest batch of articles about him and your supposed divorce.

You could practically see the frustration building in him. He was giving off full-on whiny vibes, and you couldn't help but smirk at how ridiculous the whole thing seemed.

“I swear, they’ve completely lost their minds!” Lando groaned, throwing his phone down onto the couch with a dramatic flair. “What do they mean we’re getting divorced? Have they seen you? Why would I ever, ever, let you go?”

You leaned back on the couch, trying to keep your composure as he began pacing again. “Lando, calm down. It’s just the media. They love making stuff up.”

“No, it’s not just the media!” he whined, stopping mid-pacing to stare at you. “This is serious! They think I’m out here with a divorce like that’s even a thing. I’m happily married! You’re at home growing our kid, not plotting some dramatic breakup!”

You tried to hold back your laugh, but Lando’s whining was getting funnier by the second. “Babe, seriously, it’s not the end of the world. You’re acting like the tabloids are going to come for us with pitchforks.”

“I’m just-” He paused, running his hands through his hair like he was about to pull it out.

“I’m just trying to figure out how they got this idea. I’m not... like, I’m not perfect, but come on! Look at you! You’re gorgeous, and we’re over here living our best life, why would I ever let you go?”

You grinned, giving him a teasing side-eye. “Aww, are you saying I’m too good for you?”

Lando froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “No! I mean, yes, but no!” He huffed dramatically, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “You’re perfect! You’re the perfect wife! And you’re the one who makes everything better, and now they’re out here saying I’m getting divorced? No! That’s not how this works!”

You reached over, resting your hand on his, trying to hold back your own laughter. “Lando, babe, it’s just rumors. People are bored. They don’t know anything, and they’re making stuff up. Just ignore it.”

He looked at you like you’d just suggested the impossible.

“Ignore it? How am I supposed to ignore this? They’re making me look like the worst husband in the world! Divorce? I’ve been married for, like, what, five minutes? And now I’m already getting a bad rep? This is ridiculous!”

You snorted, finally giving in to the humor of the situation. “Okay, okay, so how are you planning to fix it? Go out there and shout from the rooftops?”

Lando sighed heavily, clearly still upset. “I don’t know! Maybe I should just do an entire press conference. ‘Hello, everyone, just in case there was any doubt, I’m not divorced! I’m happily married! And I’m going home to my gorgeous wife and our baby, who will totally not grow up to be a Formula 1 driver, I promise.’”

You couldn’t stop laughing now. “Babe, just post a picture of us and say ‘Still happily married’ that’ll do the trick.”

Lando groaned in frustration. “But why do I have to do that? Why can’t people just know? It’s like they’ve forgotten what happiness looks like. They’re just out here making up stories!”

You patted his leg, smiling fondly at him. “You’re cute when you get worked up, you know that?”

He shot you a look. “I’m serious! This is outrageous. I swear, if I see one more headline about our ‘divorce,’ I’m gonna lose it.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Calm down. It’s just noise. We know what’s real.”

Lando pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not a fan of this noise. It’s too much, and I just want to be left alone to focus on being an amazing husband and father. Is that too much to ask?”

You smiled, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “No, love. It’s not too much to ask. But maybe, just maybe, try to ignore the headlines for once?”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try. But if they start talking about me again... I’m calling a press conference.”

—-

Lando had just finished a grueling race, his face flushed with exertion but still carrying that unmistakable grin.

He was on cloud nine, but he could already sense the usual flood of media around him. It was never just about the race with him, it was always about something else, something personal.

As he was making his way to the interview zone, one journalist, eager to get the scoop, stepped in front of him with a grin.

“Lando, congratulations on the win! How’s everything going with your wife? We’ve heard a lot of speculation recently, some rumors flying around about your relationship. Can you clear that up for us?”

Lando froze mid-step, his brow furrowing. The questions about his relationship with you had been relentless recently, but this, this was the last straw.

The media had taken their guesses and spun them into wild stories. He had kept quiet for as long as possible, but today, something inside him snapped.

“Rumors?” Lando repeated, voice low but filled with frustration.

He glanced over at his PR team, who were silently freaking out in the background, and then he turned back to the reporter, a small, sarcastic smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah, here’s the thing.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. His hands were shaking from the adrenaline of the race, but his eyes were laser-focused on the reporter.

“Here’s the thing,” Lando said again, this time louder, looking directly into the camera, “I’m going to give a shout-out to my beautiful wife right now, and to hell with everyone else. To all the tabloids, the rumors, and the people making things up… fuck you. I love my wife. She’s amazing. We’re happy. Now, can we get back to the racing?”

Lando’s eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and determination as he stood there, refusing to back down.

The crowd of reporters and cameras around him seemed to freeze for a moment, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

“Seriously,” he continued, his voice steadier now, but still tinged with that raw intensity, “I’ve kept quiet for as long as I can. I get it, you want the drama, you want the headlines.”

He glanced around at the sea of microphones pointed at him, his gaze intense. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the hum of distant chatter.

“But I’m here to race,” he added, his jaw clenched. “So, let me make it clear. My wife and I are doing great. I’m not hiding anything from anyone. The only thing I’m focused on is the fact that I just finished on a podium position, and that's what matters.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, his chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of the race and the adrenaline of the moment.

The reporter, still holding the microphone, looked almost shocked by Lando’s outburst, but before they could get another word in, Lando raised his hand, cutting them off.

“I’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “So here’s the deal. To everyone who wants to keep spreading rumors or digging into our lives. Don’t. And to my wife, if you’re watching this, I love you. You’re incredible.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then, with a final glance at the camera, Lando broke into a grin.

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a celebration to get to. See you at the next race.”

With that, he turned, walking away from the reporters, leaving them dumbfounded and speechless. His PR team scrambled behind him, clearly trying to catch up and figure out how to spin this into something less... explosive, but Lando wasn’t having it.

He was done with the noise, done with the rumors. And if the media wanted a story, they could have that one because he wasn’t hiding his love for you, and he wasn’t going to let anyone tell a different story.

Back in the paddock, as he made his way toward the celebration, he pulled out his phone, sending you a quick text: “Hey, I may have just lost my cool on live TV but don’t worry, it was for you. Love you always 🧡”

As soon as the text sent, Lando couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

—-

When you saw the text pop up on your phone, you blinked at it for a moment, reading it over a few times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting things.

You didn’t have a chance to misinterpret anything when you were bombarded by videos of Lando’s recent stunt by your friends and family.

You froze.

The sheer audacity of him, of his love for you, left you speechless for a moment.

Of course, Lando had always been passionate, always been the kind of person who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what mattered to him. But this?

This was a whole other level. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, a combination of shock and amusement.

You immediately hit the video call button, your heart racing.

When his face appeared on the screen, he was still beaming with that grin he wore after a good race, sweaty, glowing, and impossibly handsome.

But then, his eyes widened when he saw the expression on your face.

“What?” he asked, still out of breath from the race, his grin fading a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Lando Norris,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “did you just… tell everyone to fuck off on live TV?!”

His eyes grew comically wide, and he immediately slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning dramatically as if he was ashamed of his actions. “I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?!” you interrupted, laughing uncontrollably, clutching your stomach from how hard you were giggling. “Lando, that was literally a full-on ‘fuck you’ to the media! And you said it was for me?!”

He flushed, sheepish but still trying to hide his growing smile. “Look, okay, I was just- uh- tired of the rumors, alright? And when they asked about you- about us- I just kind of... lost it. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to make sure they all knew how much I love you. How happy we are.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, still laughing, wiping a tear from your eye. “You’re really doing a great job of showing that. It was the most Lando Norris thing you could’ve done!”

Lando leaned back against the wall, clearly embarrassed but still that familiar, playful Lando you knew and loved. “I didn’t think it’d go that far,” he muttered, but then his grin returned. “But you know what? Fuck it. They can say what they want.”

You let out a breath, finally calming down, though you were still grinning. “You are such a dork,” you said, shaking your head with affection. “But I love you for it. Seriously. I never thought I’d be watching you on TV yelling at the media like that.”

He puffed out his chest, doing a little dramatic bow. “What can I say? I’m just a man in love.”

“I’m starting to think you’re also a man who has no filter,” you teased, leaning in closer to the screen. “But I can’t deny, it’s kind of… hot.”

Lando’s cheeks flushed at that, and he let out a chuckle. “Oh, now you’re really making me blush. I can’t believe I just did that...”

“You definitely made a statement,” you said, the smile still playing on your lips. “The whole world now knows you’re not just a great driver- you're a very passionate husband, apparently. Also, good luck with your PR team after that one.”

“Oh, they’re probably freaking out right now,” Lando said with a knowing grin. “But hey, at least I got to make things clear.”

You paused for a moment, letting his words settle. “You know what, Lando? I really appreciate it. I know the media can be overwhelming, and I’m glad you’re doing what you can to protect us, even if it means embarrassing yourself a little. But just... maybe next time? You could, I don’t know, use a little less profanity?”

“Right,” he said, nodding seriously. “Next time, I’ll scream it in sign language. Less dramatic, more subtle.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with affection. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But I’m your impossible.”

—-

When the end of the racing season finally rolled around, Lando could hardly contain his excitement.

The grueling months of races, travel, and endless media commitments were finally over, and he was about to have a few weeks of uninterrupted time with you and the baby.

The weight of the season had been heavy, and now that it was over, he felt like he could breathe again, and it felt amazing.

For weeks leading up to the last race, Lando had been counting down the days.

The moment he heard the announcement that the season was officially over, his excitement bubbled over. He was practically buzzing with anticipation, his usual calm and collected persona giving way to a wide, ear-to-ear grin.

It was as if the pressure of racing and all the responsibilities had just melted away, and he was ready to dive straight into a new kind of excitement, one that involved a lot more time at home with you.

You were sitting on the couch, relaxing after your own busy day, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the familiar sound of

Lando’s boots hitting the floor. He was almost running, and his footsteps were light and fast, as if he couldn’t wait to see you.

“Babe!” he shouted, throwing his bag down with abandon, his voice practically singing with happiness.

Without a second thought, he rushed over to where you were sitting, scooping you up into his arms like you weighed nothing at all. He spun you around once, a burst of laughter escaping his lips.

“I’m home, I’m home, I’m home!” he repeated, his grin so wide it almost seemed to stretch across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh as his excitement flooded the room, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Well, I can tell you’re happy about the season being over," you teased, giving him a playful look as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m more than happy,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m ecstatic. Finally, a break. No planes, no races, no media, just me, you, and... well, you know, our little one,” he added, glancing down at your belly with a soft smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, feeling the love in his words. “I think we both deserve a break.”

Lando nodded enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to just be home with you. I’ve missed so much of this year, and now I get to make up for it. I’ve got so many plans. We can do all the things we’ve been talking about, prepare the nursery, take walks together, have breakfast in bed, watch terrible movies... you know, all the usual relaxing stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his enthusiasm. “Breakfast in bed every day, huh? That’s a bold claim.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m making the most of this time. No more rushing around, no more stress. Just time with you, our little one, and whatever chaos we manage to create together.”

He flopped down onto the couch beside you, pulling you in closer. His hand found its way to your growing belly, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he gently placed his hand there. “I’m so ready for this next chapter, you know? I know the last few months have been crazy, but this... this is going to be perfect.”

—-

Lando stood in the middle of the nearly-finished nursery, hands on his hips, looking ridiculously proud of himself. The room was stunning.

Soft, neutral tones, sleek furniture that didn’t scream “baby” but still felt warm and inviting, and subtle touches of personality like a tiny McLaren-themed mobile hanging above the crib.

“You know,” he said, turning to you with a grin, “I think I’ve outdone myself. Custom everything. No IKEA in sight. You’re welcome.”

You raised an eyebrow from where you were sitting on the plush nursery chair he’d insisted be upholstered with "only the softest fabric money can buy."

“You do realize you’ve spent more on this room than most people spend on their entire house, right?”

He shot you a mock-offended look. “Excuse me for wanting the best for our baby. It’s called quality assurance.”

He scoffed, gesturing at the solid oak crib. “This bad boy? Handmade by some guy in Sweden who’s apparently a genius with wood. And the changing table? Designed by an actual ergonomist! No sore backs for us.”

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help laughing. “Lando, it’s a baby. They’re not going to care if their crib is custom-made or from IKEA. They’ll drool on it all the same.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Excuse me! Our baby deserves the best! The absolute best. I’m not about to put our kid in some flimsy crib where one tantrum could bring it down.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only one throwing tantrums right now,” you teased.

He ignored you, walking over to the rocking chair and giving it an experimental sway. “This chair, by the way? Perfect for late-night story time. I tested at least twenty before I found the one.”

“You sat in twenty rocking chairs?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What if I’d chosen one that squeaked or wasn’t comfy enough for cuddles? I’m thinking ahead, love.”

“Thinking ahead is spending three months’ salary on a nursery?”

“Investment,” he corrected, plopping down beside you with a satisfied sigh.

“And it’s not just the furniture. Look at the details. That mobile? Custom order. The wallpaper? Hand-painted by some artist in Italy. Even the shelves are organized by height so the books will be easier to grab when the baby’s older. I’m not messing around.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “It’s beautiful, Lando. Really. You’ve done an amazing job.”

“Of course I have,” he said smugly, leaning back. But after a moment, his expression softened. “I just… I want everything to be perfect, you know? For them. For you. I want this room to feel safe and special and like… like a little haven.”

Your heart melted as you reached out to take his hand. “It already does, babe. It’s perfect because you made it with love.”

“Also with a ridiculous amount of money,” he added, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You laughed. “That, too.”

Lando leaned down to kiss your forehead, his voice full of affection. “Anything for you two. Now, all that’s left is to teach the baby to say ‘McLaren’ before anything else.”

You laughed, pulling back to give him a playful shove. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Fine,” he said with a wink. “Second word, then.”

—-

When the day finally came, Lando was fresh off a meeting with his team, when your water broke in the middle of your living room.

“Now?” he yelped, nearly dropping the cup of tea he’d just handed you. His wide, panicked eyes darted between you and the puddle forming at your feet. “It’s happening now?”

“Yes, Lando, now!” you snapped, clutching your belly as another contraction hit.

He spun in circles for a moment, muttering to himself, “Keys, keys, where did I- oh, my God, this is happening.”

“Lando!” you barked, cutting through his panic.

“Yes, yes! Okay! Keys! Bag! You!” He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, slung it over one shoulder, then hesitated. “Wait, do you need me to carry you? Should I-”

“Just get me to the car!”

In record time, he managed to get you into the passenger seat, though not without fumbling with your seatbelt for what felt like an eternity.

“I race cars for a living,” he muttered to himself, hands trembling as he buckled you in. “Why is this harder than a pit stop?”

“Because a pit stop doesn’t scream at you every five minutes,” you shot back, gripping the door handle as another contraction rippled through your body.

---

At the hospital, Lando was a walking ball of nerves. He practically burst into the maternity ward, announcing to the nurses, “My wife’s having a baby! Right now! Like, right now!”

One of the nurses calmly guided you to a room, giving Lando a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “First-time dad?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Is it that obvious?” he mumbled, following behind like a lost puppy.

Inside the delivery room, Lando couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. “Are they supposed to take this long? Shouldn’t someone check on her again? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Lando,” you groaned through clenched teeth. “But if you don’t stop pacing, I might strangle you before this baby gets here.”

He froze mid-step, holding his hands up in surrender. “Right. No pacing. Got it. I’ll just... stand here.”

Once he could actually think past his panic, Lando immediately whipped out his phone, his fingers fumbling over the screen as he dialed his parents. The phone barely rang once before his mom answered.

“Lando? Everything okay?” her voice was calm but laced with concern, likely from the sheer urgency of his call.

“Mum! She’s in labor!” Lando practically shouted into the phone, his words tumbling out at record speed. “Like, actual labor. Right now. We’re at the hospital. It’s happening!”

“Oh, Lando, that’s wonderful!” his mom exclaimed, her tone immediately switching to excitement. “How is she? How are you?”

“She’s... well, she’s in labor!” Lando replied, running a hand through his already tousled curls. “I think she’s fine, but I don’t know! She might be mad at me for pacing too much. I stopped though. Well, sort of. Anyway, can you and Dad get here? Like, now?”

“We’re on our way, love,” she reassured him with a laugh.

By the time his parents arrived, just minutes later, Lando’s initial excitement had given way to full-blown panic. He was sitting in the corner of the room, staring at his hands, muttering under his breath.

“Do you think the baby will like me? What if they don’t like me? What if I’m a terrible dad? Oh my God, I forgot to pack snacks! What kind of dad forgets snacks?”

His parents stepped into the room, his mom taking one look at him and immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, breathe,” she said gently, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

He jumped up at their arrival, waving his hands around. “I can’t breathe, Mum! Do you know how much responsibility this is? I’m going to be someone’s dad! What if I drop the baby? What if I don’t hold them right? Or they cry every time they see me? I-”

His dad cut him off with a firm but comforting hand on his back. “You’re going to be fine, son. You’ve got this.”

Lando looked over at you, lying on the hospital bed, still managing to roll your eyes at his dramatics despite the situation. “Does she think I’ve got this?” he asked, gesturing to you.

You groaned, partly from the contraction and partly from his antics. “Lando, if you don’t stop spiraling, I’ll personally make sure you get kicked out of this delivery room.”

His mom laughed, stepping closer to you. “She’s got it under control, doesn’t she?”

“She always does,” Lando muttered, his wide eyes darting between you and the monitors. “But what if I’m not ready, Mum?” he whispered, leaning closer to his mother as if it were a secret.

His mom reached up, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’ll be ready when you see your baby for the first time, Lando. Trust me. You’ve already proven you’ll do whatever it takes to be a great dad. Now stop worrying and be there for your wife.”

Lando nodded, taking a deep breath and straightening up. Then he turned to you with newfound determination. “Okay. What do you need, love? Water? Ice chips? A—”

“A calm husband,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Right,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Calm husband. Got it.”

And for the next two minutes, he actually managed to stay calm. Until the nurse walked in and said, “Alright, it’s time to push.”

Then all bets were off.

---

When your son (your son!) finally arrived after hours of labor, the world seemed to pause. Lando stood frozen as one of the nurses handed him the tiny, swaddled baby. His hands shook as he cradled Leo against his chest, staring down at him in awe.

His aquamarine eyes were wide as he stared down at the newborn. “Wow,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “He’s... so small. Like, really small. Are we sure he’s okay?”

“Lando, he’s a baby,” you said, exasperated but smiling, the exhaustion hitting you in waves. “They’re supposed to be small.”

“Yeah, but this small?” he asked, carefully holding Leo as if he were made of glass. He glanced at the nurse for reassurance. “Is this normal? What if I break him?”

The nurse chuckled. “You won’t, Mr. Norris. Just make sure to support his head, and you’ll be fine.”

“Support his head,” Lando repeated, adjusting his grip like he was handling the most fragile trophy in the world. Then he looked down at your son again, a mixture of awe and terror on his face. “Hey, little guy,” he murmured. “It’s, uh... it’s me. Your dad. I’m new at this, so, uh, go easy on me, yeah?”

You laughed softly, despite the ache in your body. “He’s not going to grade you, Lando.”

“Good, because I’m already giving myself a D+,” he muttered, carefully sitting beside you on the hospital bed.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes glassy. “You did so good,” he said softly. “So, so good. Thank you for... for him.”

As the tiny bundle in his arm let out a tiny whimper, Lando instinctively rocked him, whispering, “Shh, mate, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“You’re a natural,” the nurse commented, smiling as she adjusted your blankets.

“Really?” Lando glanced up, his grin sheepish but full of pride. “Because I feel like I’m one wrong move away from dropping him.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re already amazing.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the amazing one. I mean, you just made a person. How insane is that?”

As he sat beside you, still holding him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

You rested your head against his shoulder, watching as he studied every tiny feature of Leo’s face. “He’s got my eyes,” he murmured, awed.

“And your gap-toothed smile too, probably,” you teased.

He chuckled, brushing a fingertip gently over Leo’s tiny hand. “That’s not a bad thing. He’ll be unstoppable. Just wait until he sees his first go-kart.”

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brunchable · 4 months ago

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FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.

Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve. Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz. A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao

taggies: @mrsevans90

Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new.

You smiled back, albeit a little wary.

"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe.

Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl."

You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.

“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.

But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.

Your face immediately turned bright red.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.

He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.

He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.

“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”

The excitement drained from his face, “I do?”

“Yes!”

Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.

“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.

As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.

“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”

You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.

"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.

You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.

But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"

You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.

As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.

Right?

× × × ×

You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind.

And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself.

"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—"

"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello."

You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”

“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer.

His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach.

"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.

“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.

“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.

His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.

The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access.

“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.

“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”

His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.

"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.

× × × ×

For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.

After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.

You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.

He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar.

“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”

Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.

“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"

“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”

You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!"

He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.

Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly.

“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room.

You panicked.

"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible

“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer.

You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red.

“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”

But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further.

“Why are you running, baby?”

He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.”

You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.

"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.

"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.

"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.

His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control.

And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.

× × × ×

As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.

You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.

“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”

He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours.

“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”

You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”

“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.

“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”

He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.

“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.

“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.

You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.

“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”

Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."

His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.

You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"

Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted.

"That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!”

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago

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It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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luvrodite · 3 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE

GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S) [3.8k]

in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, prevention of pulling out.

ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!

<< kinktober masterlist | week 2 >>

It goes like this:

On a monday evening, Pamela fucking Isley decides to take her quarrel with Gotham's newest weapons company – God, could they fucking give it a break? B had only busted the last one a few weeks ago before they'd brought the city down on everyone – to new heights.

Jason's sitting in traffic with a bag of groceries slung around the handle of his bike when he gets the call. He's eager to beat you home, ready to make you dinner and heavily intent on wining and dining you after a long weekend of missing each other.

His fingers tap against his thighs impatiently, impatience sitting beneath his skin like an itch. Spikes of activity during the week had meant his plans for Friday night – dinner and a deserved night off – had been pushed to the backburner. He'd returned home in the early stillness of dawn, unable to get more than a couple of hours with you before your phone had rung, a friend's emergency pulling you out of bed with an apologetic grimace and a promise to reschedule your date night.

The headset in his ear notifies him of an incoming call, the syllables of your name dulled by the clinical, robotic voice of his phone's intelligence system. His mouth curves up into a smile beneath his helmet.

"Hi, baby," he answers immediately. "I'm on my way home, you need anything? I just left the store but I can go back–"

You cut him off in a tight voice. Later, he'll be ashamed that the first thing that comes to mind is, not another fucking postponement. Now, his brows furrow at your tone, stomach dipping uncertainly when it becomes clear that this is something more serious.

Your voice wobbles, high-pitched and tearful. At the same time, the dash on his bike begins to flash in rapid succession, the paging system he'd installed for the bats to communicate with him glaring back at him, blood red.

ORACLE: CHEMICAL LEAK DOWNTOWN. BATS + R.ROBIN EN ROUTE. ALL UNITS STANDBY.

His dread plummets and for a moment his throat closes over. You're speaking to him but he struggles to make it out through the ringing in his ears.

"Jason, I'm – I'm home but I don't – I don't know what to do."

He bites back a curse and tries to swallow the lump in his throat, grappling for words of comfort.

"It's okay," he soothes, straining to keep his voice level. "Listen, sweetheart, can you go lock the door for me? I'm – shit – I'll be home soon, alright? It'll be okay. We'll fix it."

He doesn't give himself time to linger on the call after you confirm you've locked it, barking out a command to dial Oracle that his system fails to pick up twice, only registering after he steadies himself.

She picks up on the third ring. It irritates him how unfazed she sounds when he explains the situation to her. He hears the click of her keyboard in the background, the hum of her monitors. Each passing second as she patches through to Nightwing is agony and the slow crawl of traffic does little to help.

His leg has begun to jostle the bike with the weight of its shaking when she returns to their call.

"You're not going to like this," she says and he feels the bile rising in his throat.

"What." He grits it out through his teeth, unable to manage much more than that. He hears Oracle sigh.

"Looks like an aphrodisiac," she says clinically. "Her plan was to get them caught compromised enough to lose credit publicly."

"Oracle." She hears his growl for what it is – Tell me whether or not it's over.

"It's non-lethal," she affirms and he sighs harshly. The tightness in his chest loosens ever so slightly as she talks. "Ivy let it off near city hall because most of the shareholders were scheduled to hold a meeting – that's where your girl works, right? Alf's working on an antidote but she should be relatively fine until it's ready. Just – keep an eye on her."

Tim joins the line then and Jason startles at the sound of his voice in his ear.

"I don't know what the fuck she wanted to achieve," the boy grumbles. He's a little out of breath and in any other situation, Jason would have something to say about that. Tonight, he's not in the mood for jokes.

"Red," he barks out. The kid makes a distracted noise, and he can hear the sounds of a scuffle on the other end. "You tell Ivy if anything happens to my girl, I'll make sure she's next."

He doesn't wait to hear what's sure to be a non-committal answer at best, kicking off and veering between the lined up vehicles. There's an outroar from the drivers around him, laying on their car horns. Someone pokes their head out of their window to scream at him.

He hears none of it, the blood rushing in his ears keeping him single-minded.

This string that twines him to you isn't new. It wears signs of age, shows the years in the way his fingers reach for yours in the early moments of his day, the turn of your eyes to his in any room. He's seen a few summers with you at his side but the fear –

Blood, coagulating, the cold brush of death, splintered wood beneath nails and a haunting smile

– the fear never stagnates.

A bitter, resigned shard of him breathes out as he speeds through the streets. A veritable sword over his crown, this almost seems expected. Loathing colours the skyline and he, the fool, to think he could hold this one, precious, beloved thing unscathed.

He forgoes the groceries in his haste, leaving the bags in his haste to throw himself up the stairs and out of the parking garage. Pulse thundering in his ears, sweat coating his palms, he scrabbles with the key to your shared apartment.

The door flies open and a hand is grabbing him by the front of his shirt before he can slot it through the lock.

You, wild-eyed and frantic, pull him inside with a bitten off sob.

"Shh, shh, I'm here, come here."

He kicks the door shut, reaching behind him to flip the locks with one hand. The other curls you protectively to his chest, fingers splaying over your back. The sight of you calms him considerably and he chokes out a stuttered breath, the lump in his throat dissolving to give way for a flood of relief.

You're burning in his arms, the thin undershirt you've got on soaked through with sweat, face glowing with perspiration. Eyebrows knitted, you cling to him tighter and he finds himself making noises of comfort.

"Jason, I –"

"Shh. I know, honey, I know," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are tearful, salt spilling over lashes and rolling down your cheeks. "Come on, let's get you to lie down."

"No," you whine, pitching miserably as he shuffles the both of you towards your bedroom, face creasing with every movement. "Hurts."

"I know," he whispers, hating the way his voice cracks. His eyes burn painfully. "'ll get you a towel, alright?"

You're deposited on the bed and he makes a turn for the bathroom, wetting a cloth. When he enters the bedroom again you've pushed yourself up, kneeling on the bed. You've shed the pants you'd worn earlier, left now in only and undershirt and your underwear. His name falls from your lips pitifully and he steps forward, lips turning down into a commiserating frown.

You shy away from the cloth when he presses it against your forehead, letting out a hiss as it makes contact with your burning skin. He brings a hand to the nape of your neck and you seem to like that much better, sighing under his touch. Jason takes advantage of this to keep you in place, mopping the sweat off your face and neck, trying his best not to give into your dissatisfied squirming.

"I know, I'm an asshole," he mutters, when you cry out his name, displeasure making itself clear on your face. "Get better so you can yell at me for it, alright?"

"Don't wanna – yell at you," you mumble, wetting your lips as they part.

He clocks the dilation of your pupils a little too late and shakes his head adamantly, trying to draw back but you've got a hold of his shirt, pulling him forward. He catches himself with a hand agains the headboard, a knee pressing into the mattress beneath him.

You stare up at him, mouth turning down into a pained grimace.

"C'mon honey," he mutters, pleading, feeling his face flood with warmth. "Don't do this to me. Be good, you'll be alright, okay? Any minute they're gonna call and tell me Alf's got an antidote ready – shit, maybe we should just drive you there now -"

"No," you sob, face crumpling under the weight of your tears again, pushing up on your knees to fling your arms around his shoulders. The effort of the movement makes you stutter out a gasp and he's forced to band an arm around your waist to steady the both of you.

Your tears wet the skin of his neck, your body pressed flush against his. He becomes aware, regrettably, of the skin beneath his fingers, your undershirt having ridden up to expose the softness of your lower back.

"Please," you hiccup into his shoulder. "Please, Jason – Please."

He'll have to ask Oracle later if second-hand exposure to the toxin is supposed to have an effect on him. At the touch of your chest to his, he feels himself warm all over, mouth drying when you begin to keen, arching up into his touch in an effort to get him to do something.

"Fuck," he curses. "Fuck. Alright, just – come here."

He kicks his shoes off, the sneakers clattering against the floor, and crawls onto the bed properly. Sat up against the headboard, he meets your baleful gaze with a raised brow and reaches for you.

Jason shakes his head when you go to straddle his lap, maneuvering you against his chest until your back rests against it. You let out a whimper, displeased, but he shakes his head.

"This is all you're getting, alright? Just – it'll tide you over until they call."

He spreads your legs until they hang over his own, your thighs bracketing his and leaving you open. His blood thunders in his ears, hand trembling as he reaches it up to your mouth, fingers prodding at the soft plush of your lips.

Your tongue laves at his digits, a muffled moan trapped in the recesses of your throat. One of your hands curls around his wrist, the other perching against his thigh, nails curling against the fabric of his jeans. He can feel you shift against him, hips canting ever so slightly over his own.

Awful, wretched, lecherous, he stiffens under the movement, jeans tightening. His free hand wraps around you hip with the intent of pinning you in place and stopping you. Somehow, he finds himself guiding you back and forth instead.

You tip your head back against his shoulder, baring the soft line of your throat as you drool around his fingers. He can feel the wetness pooling around his knuckles, the softness of your ass against him, separated only by a few layers. If he cranes his neck, he'll probably find your panties sticky with your need. The thought alone makes his eyes flutter.

The room is blanketed in muffled whimpers, the whispers of rustling sheets and his shaky breaths. You've quietened down some since he'd gotten his fingers in your mouth, but the heat seems to have returned with a vengeance when you begin to fuss in his lap again. Your fingers dig into his thigh and you whine, tugging at his wrist in an effort to push his hand where you need it most.

He hushes you with a squeeze to your hip and tips your face to meet his. Bleary eyed, silvery tracks smattered across your cheeks, you're struggling to hold on. He lowers his mouth to yours, a chaste kiss that deepens when you part your lips to lick into his mouth.

"Jason, come on."

"No, don't take it off," he whispers when your hands make to tug your underwear off. You whine and he hushes you again, "Shh, I'm going to take care of you, be patient for me, alright?"

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and watches you shudder at the first swipe. Similarly affected, he feels himself twitch when his fingers make contact with the soft slickness of your flesh, gliding against silken folds.

"Oh," you sigh, sagging slightly into him.

"There you go." He presses a kiss to your sweaty temple, trying to pretend this is just another night together and he's being a loving boyfriend, that you're not delirious with want just because of the toxin running through your bloodstream. "That's my girl."

He presses gentle circles against you, closing his eyes and ghosting his mouth over the curve of your shoulder. The smell of sex is thick in the air, that heady musk and sweat that he could drown in. Your breaths come in pants now as he works you open gently, thumb rolling over your centre.

"Just like that," he rumbles, straining to keep his head on straight. It's difficult, when you arch against him, his name spilling from your lips in adoration coloured mewls. Your arm raises, curling behind you to embrace his neck.

It doesn't take you very long to come, pent up and sensitive – he discovers this when his hand grazes over your chest to stroke your face and you keen so loud he fears he'll come in his pants at the sound, your mouth, bitten raw, dropping open as you moan. A few strokes against your centre and you come apart in his arms, hard. The tremors wrack your body long after the fact, your core pulsing around his fingers.

He, ever the fool, expects this to sate your hunger.

Whatever Ivy's put in her newest concoction is potent. You gather your breath quick enough and it becomes apparent that just the one isn't nearly enough. He's pushed back against the headboard, stunned into silence as you clamber onto his thigh, pawing at him like you can't get close enough.

You struggle with the fabric of his shirt before giving up and any questions he has sputter off into silence when you begin to rock back and forth on him. The denim of his jeans is unforgiving against the thin, sodden material of your underwear, providing a harsh friction that you lose yourself to. He watches, his heart racing, you taking your pleasure for yourself.

It isn't as though you've never done this in front of him – he remembers, blurry, the aftermath of a dinner date that had seen you riding his thigh on the couch, still in your dress.

But this… This feels different.

There's an urgency to this, a franticness running beneath your skin that pushes your hips down harder, more unforgiving. Your face screws up, salt misting your cheeks and neck.

For a moment, Jason almost feels as though he's the one that's been hit. You take on a blurry quality, smudged around the edges like wet paint, wanton, hazy. A gauzy film over his eyes, he blinks, and blinks.

When you come once more, it shatters and he's aware of the stain that's bled into the dark denim on his thigh, a stickiness that's smeared between your thighs. Your panties are ruined and he gulps when he drags his gaze up from between your legs to your face.

Quiet, hungry, you're already staring at him. Your chest heaves with exertion but you remain still otherwise, lips parting in invitation, eyes half-lidded.

"Baby–"

"You said you'd take care of me," you intone beseeching, voice affecting a trembling, delicate quality.

Fuck.

He's never been good at denying you much. Already, he feels the urge to take you into his arms and promise to make it better, but he forces his hand to stay, curling his fingers in the bedsheets.

You crawl forward, until your lips are ghosting over his, eyes swallowing his field of vision until all he can see are the stars in your irises. He feels the

"Jason, please, it still hurts," you whimper quietly, a wounded noise that carves him from the inside out, guilt and shame poisoning his every nerve. He's at war with himself, wanting to ease your pain – he feels responsible for it, in a way – and hesitating similarly. Is this right? Is it okay?

Before he can come up with an answer, you press your mouth to his.

The last of his inhibitions crumbles completely under the plush of your mouth.

He rolls the both of you over, relishing in the gasp you let out, the sight of you splayed against the mattress. He's quick to divest himself of his clothes, tugging his shirt off recklessly, not minding the sound of ripping fabric he vaguely registers hearing. The jeans go next, and his underwear in one, flung to some corner of the bedroom.

Your spit slick mouth curves up into a delighted, drunken smile when he crawls over you, body eclipsing yours with every intent of ravishing you.

Jason holds himself up with one hand, the other reaching to the bedside table and rummaging in the drawer for the box he keeps there. Only, he comes up short and dread dawns over him in a cold wave when he remembers –

He'd used the last of the condoms a few nights ago. It hadn't mattered in the last couple of days, the weekend too busy for the both of you to do much else but curl up next to each other, too exhausted to consider working up a sweat.

"Fuck," he whispers, shaking. "Fuck, baby, there aren't, um…"

Your eyes fill with tears at the unfinished sentence, a hiccuped sob stuttering out of your chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he tries to soothe you, a hand smoothing down your face. "I'll just – I'll run to the store, I'll be back before you know it."

"No, please, just–" Watery eyed and upset, you tug him closer as though fearing he'll take off. "I don't care, I don't, I just – I need you, Jason. Please."

He stares at you, heart thundering in his ears. "Fuck you without –"

"Need you now," you whimper, lips tugging down pitifully into a pout that cuts through his chest.

It isn't as though this is his first time fucking you raw –

Tipsy laughter, hushed whispers of it's fine, just once, we'll get the morning after pill.

– but still. This is different, another ballpark entirely.

You stare up at him, desperation in every crease and curve of your face, pleading with him. Too far gone to care, you beg him.

"I'll, um," he rasps out, throat dry, "I'll pull out."

You make some sort of noise that sounds like a vague affirmation, tugging him closer hastily. Poor, pretty girl. His chest aches at the sight of you, needy, looking to him to fix it.

"I'll fix it," he finds himself muttering, lining himself up with your entrance. You've similarly taken to murmuring under your breath, hands carding through his hair, devotion in your every touch.

"Need you so bad, please, please, baby."

The slick that smears against his head, the soft warmth of you, nearly makes his eyes roll back into his head. A drawn out whimper spills from your lips at the press of his hips, the first inches of him pushing into your tight heat.

You sink into the mattress as he notches himself further inside, mouth opening. You paint an obscene picture, your lips bitten raw, naked chest arched. He lowers his head to mouth at your nipples, teeth teasing at the sensitive points. You're warm, so warm beneath him – around him.

He's given only a moment to breathe before you push your hips up, impatient. Fucking yourself against him, your fingers dig into the muscle of his back for leverage, tucking him close enough to you that he brushes against your neck and tastes the salt on your skin.

Jason sets a harried pace, bucking forward against you. You begin to cry out again, every resounding slap of his skin against yours drawing out a moan that curls tight around him and presses down on his stomach. You exchange panted breaths between open mouthed kisses, tongues and teeth clashing messily, muffled pleas that beg for more, more, more.

Filthy, debauched, it doesn't take very long for you to approach your peak. Jason, lost in the wetness of your cunt, feels his own building and knows this is a dangerous game he's playing, toeing the line of recklessness.

"Close," he pants, feeling the tell-tale fluttering of you around him, your orgasm imminent. If he can just hold out until he's gotten you there –

Your legs wrap around him, hold so tight he's not able to do much more than rock against you in desperate, quick rolls of his hips.

"Inside," you warble. Your hands come to cradle his head, coaxing him down to kiss you, licking up into his mouth sweetly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "Mmh, please, baby? Please? I – Jason – want it so bad, need you inside."

"Oh fuck," he gasps, voice hitching, breath stuttering. His face creases, overcome, and you grin, dazed, drunken, pulling him into another sloppy kiss. What's he to do?

You scream into his mouth at the same time that Jason comes. His vision whitens at the sensation of your pulsing heat, the unforgiving tightening that demands his orgasm. His fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips, burying himself to the hilt and surrendering to your claim.

Warm and wet around him, the evidence of his debauchery coats the inside of your thighs and clings to the base of him. He's light-headed, a little winded, and it takes him a moment to gather his sensibilities. When he looks down, he finds you a boneless puddle beneath him, eyelids fluttering tiredly.

He should pull out. He knows he ought to – but he's broken so many rules, what's another? Jason gathers you in his arms and rolls over gently, tucking you against his chest, a hand skimming up and down the length of your spine comfortingly.

"Fuck," he whispers out into the air, and you murmur atop him. He glances down, meeting your bleary eyes. "Y'just had to go and get caught in that crossfire, huh?"

"N'my fault," you grumble, pressing your face back into his chest.

"Gonna give me a heart attack," he grumbles, dropping a kiss to your crown. Then, with a look over at the bedside table, he jostles you a bit. "Hey. Don't fall asleep. We still have to get you the antidote."

"Wake me when 's ready," is your answer, tone somehow managing a prissiness unexpected of someone who'd just been fucked to within an inch of their life, and he drops his head back into the pillows, incredulous.

This girl would be the death of him.

first kinktober 2024 fic let's go!! i genuinely didn't think i was going to be able to commit to kinktober this year (i'm still nervous about whether i'll be able to) because finals are literally just around the corner and i'm stressing. but hopefully you enjoyed the first installment to this year's kinktober and the coming ones don't disappoint, either!

#jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #jason todd fanfiction #kinktober 2024

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thesecretwriter · 11 months ago

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you belong to me (bucky barnes).

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: in which y/n is getting ready for one of Tony’s parties and Bucky react to y/n’s dress in a very telling way.

warning: Smut – basically a quickie with bucky.

a/n: and my mannnn, thank you to my mannn!

minors/ageless blogs dni

Masterlists

Bucky was lazily waiting on your bed as you got dressed in the bathroom, you insisted on him not seeing it till you wore it.

As you exited the bathroom, Bucky’s eyes strayed away from his phone and took in the sight of you. His eyes travelled to your body; the dress was complimented your body very well; it was more revealing than other dresses you had worn before as the back was basically non-existent and the cleavage showed off your breasts in the best way possible.

“What do you think?” you ask looking at him with excited eyes.

“Baby. I wanted to enjoy this party teasing you, not fighting off everyone who looks your way,” he said waking up from the bed and walking towards you.

You rolled your eyes at his words and turned around to go to our vanity to put on the jewellery, “What’re you rolling your eyes at?” his asked with a raised brow.

“Your childishness,”

Within a millisecond, he was behind you, glaring at you through the mirror.

“How am I being childish?” he asked caressing your arm as he stood closely to you.

“I got this dress hoping you’d like it, but you had to go ahead and ruin the moment,”

“It’s a pretty dress baby, and it makes you look beautiful, but I should be the only one to see you like this,” he said as he took the thin strap in between his fingers and let it slide off your shoulder.

Your protest fell on deaf ears as he slowly undid the zip of your dress. You kept the dress from falling off and exposing your breasts by holding it at the chest area.

“Let go,” he simply stated.

Looking at him through the mirror, you obeyed.

He bent you over so that your body was leaned over your vanity, he maintained eye contact in the mirror, while bunching your dress up to your hips.

A hum of approval released itself from his lips as saw that you weren’t wearing panties.

“Naughty girl,”

Glancing at the clock on that wall, he made quick work of undoing his pants and pulls it down till there’s enough room for his cock to come out.

Reaching from behind you, he teased your clit by rubbing soft circles as he slips himself in.

“So. Wet. For. Me,”

Each word released between clenched teeth with the rhythm of him thrusting into you.

Because of how hard he was be thrusting into; you needed to hold the sides of your vanity to keep yourself steady. He fucked you hard and fast, making it known that he was the one who owned you.

The sound your moans and heavy panting filled the silence in the room. With the angle he was in, he was able to thrust into you and almost constantly hit your g-spot each time.

He pulled your body into his tall form, almost making you stand up straight as he gripped your neck and made you watch in the mirror.

His pace and roughness brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Feeling the tremble of your thighs as he pulled you into his thrusts caused Bucky to smirk.

The mirror gave him the perfect view of your pleasure-stricken face, breasts moving at the pace of his cock moving inside of you.

“Tell me who you belong to,”

Not being able to respond, you let out a slur of words.

“Tell me,”

“I belong to you,” you moan in pleasure.

When he felt you clench around him, he knew you were close to cumming – causing him to increase his pace.

“Oh fuck,” his voice deep and rough as he groaned in pleasure.

The trigger of your own orgasm resulted in his following tow. He kept thrusting into you till the point of his cock feeling too sensitive inside of you.

You both relished in the moments of pleasure, breathing heavily from the aftermath.

As soon as Bucky was able to collect his thoughts, he took his cock out of you and zipped up his pants, then stood you up and helped you get dressed.

You looked to be in a daze which caused him to let out a breathy chuckle.

“Wear the dress. I’m happy to spend the rest of the night knowing my cum is deep inside you. And if I need to remind you of who you belong to – then I’m sure we can make a plan,”

You’d nod to him, still not being able to verbally say anything.

With a kiss to your forehead, he grabbed your purse and jacket and headed towards the door with his other hand draped around your waist.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 5 months ago

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Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !!

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you.

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.”

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest.

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries.

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?”

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.”

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn.

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!”

“Perfect time to learn then.”

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-”

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.”

“are they consistent?”

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch.

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.”

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair.

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.”

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right.

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle.

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast.

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!”

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.”

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly.

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?”

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.”

“oh my god!”

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right?

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago.

You scream, a searing pain felt down below.

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-”

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief.

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.”

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock.

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter.

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.”

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult.

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#tyler owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #tyler owens imagine #Tyler Owens imagines #Tyler Owens fanfiction #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x female!reader #tyler owens x y/n #Tyler owens x reader insert #Tyler owens fanfics #Tyler owens fanfic #Tyler owens fic #Tyler owens fics #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfics #twisters fic #twisters fics #twisters imagines #twisters imagine

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 9 months ago

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WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL

Propaganda...

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

LOOK

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HOW

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YEARNS

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The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.

Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.

I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.

Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.

I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH

If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.

Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!

Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?

Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?

A warm smile? Or something more broody?

Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?

Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!

II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.

Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵

And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.

And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥

This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

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Fencing? Hot!

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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

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My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #the final #take two (SORRY)#captain wentworth #mr darcy #persuasion 1995 #pride and prejudice 1995 #ciaran hinds #colin firth #persuasion #pride and prejudice #jane austen #frederick wentworth #fitzwilliam darcy #Youtube

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juniperskye · 5 months ago

Text

I choose you.

Sneak peek: After a one-night stand, you find yourself pregnant. You choose to take some time off to get your life in order (aka ready for a baby), when Hotch stops by to make sure you’re okay. You confide in him and after a late night of talking, and months of mutual pining, Hotch offers to help you raise the baby. With this newfound dynamic, how will Hotch handle you working in the field? How will your lives change?

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 7599 (OMFG sorry)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited I've been working on this for so long...I did my best- please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), secret relationship, mention of period and menstrual cycle, mention of doctors and hospitals, mention of typical pregnancy related care, secret pregnancy, mention of pregnancy, Hotch being a little smothering lol, mentions of canon typical violence, some language, team members meddling, mention of Jack, no mention of Hailey (she just doesn’t exist in this – Hotch has always been a single dad), no use of y/n. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hey, you’re looking a little green there sugar.” Morgan said, gently nudging your elbow.

“Yeah girl, keep it to your side!” Emily laughed, pushing your file further onto your desk.

“Alright, if I was contagious, don’t you think you’d all be sick by now? It has to be from something I ate…I guess it’s time to clean out the fridge.” Shaking your head you got back to work.

“You know the most common causes of nausea and vomiting are infections (like the stomach flu), food poisoning, motion sickness, pregnancy, and migraines. We can rule out the stomach flu given that none of us have gotten sick, and motion sickness since we haven’t travelled in a few days. I’d say food poisoning seems most likely, and it should pass soon given that it typically lasts anywhere from 12-48 hours.” Spencer rattled off.

“Thanks Spence.” You smiled.

Your mind began spiraling, this little bout of vomiting had been going on for far longer than 48 hours. Was it possible something at home was contaminated and you’d had “never-ending” food poisoning? You thought about the other conditions Spencer had mentioned, no to the stomach flu, no to motion sickness, probably not food poisoning. You had migraines, but definitely weren’t currently suffering from a spell…so that left. Nope. No way.

Could it be possible? When was your last period? Shit. You pulled out your phone and opened the Flo app and your last charted period was…EIGHT WEEKS AGO. What the fuck? How had you missed that? After pondering for a few minutes, you realized that around that time, the team had a particularly tough case where children were being kidnapped from malls in Alabama. The case had a happy ending, but it had taken seven days for you to catch the guy. You had chalked up the missed cycle to stress – it happened sometimes.

After excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, you made two calls, one to your primary care physician, and then one to the OBGYN that they referred you to. Thankfully (pure luck truly) they had an opening tomorrow morning.

You quickly made your way to Hotch’s office to see if he would allow you to come in late tomorrow. He was usually understanding about these things since you guys really have to take any doctor’s appointments you can get with your ridiculous schedule.

You knocked on the door frame softly, taking note of his nod, granting permission to enter. You walked cautiously to his desk, trying to work out the phrasing of this request in your head.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, what’s going on?” Hotch questioned.

“Sorry Hotch, I uh, I just have a quick question for you.” You began. “You see, I haven’t been feeling great the last few days, so I called my doctor, and they can squeeze me in tomorrow first thing. Would it be possible for me to come in late so I can make that appointment?”

“Is that all? Of course, just come in when you can.” He finally met your gaze, offering a subtle smile.

**8 weeks pregnant**

You sat, bare legs causing the sterile paper beneath you to crinkle, the noise seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. You had left a urine sample when you first arrived at the office, and they had just taken a blood sample. The nurse had asked you a million questions and you had to fill out nearly 20 different forms.

“Alright, so the urine test came back as positive for pregnancy.” The doctor informed you.

“Wow, um okay. So, what are the next steps?”

“Well, we are going to send your blood in to check your HCG levels amongst other things, that will give us a pretty good estimate as to how far along you are. We will give you a call when those results come in. I am going to send you home with some literature on what foods, medication, drinks, over all activities to avoid as well as some recommendations for prenatal vitamins and a prescription for some anti-nausea medication. There is also a card in there with the triage number in case of an emergency. So, what questions do you have for me?” The doctor concluded.

“I uh, when will I need to come back in? Also, I am a field agent with the FBI, I guess I’ll probably need a doctor’s note as proof of pregnancy, and then one later down the line I suppose, excusing me from duty.” You inquired.

“Once we get your HCG levels and can get a better idea of how far along you are, we will give you that call and then we will schedule your next appointment. Based on your last cycle, we will probably have you come back pretty soon for a transvaginal ultrasound and then your following appointment would be around your 12-week mark. As for work, I can get you that document now and then yes, as your pregnancy progresses we will discuss changes that will have to be made at work. Did you need a note for today?” She answered.

“Okay, that sounds good. And yeah, a note for today would be great. Thank you.”

Thoughts were racing through your head, the things you’d have to buy, getting your apartment prepared, telling the father (what was his name again…Michael? Brady? You’d have to figure that one out), telling your boss and the team, the changes to your body? Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

The second you stepped off the elevator your stomach twisted, and you darted to the bathroom. After emptying the contents of your stomach, you rinsed your mouth out and made your leave. What you weren’t expecting was Hotch on the other side of the door.

“Oh, sorry Hotch.”

“No need to apologize, I just wanted to see that you were alright. JJ let me know she saw you running in here.” He explained.

“I-I’m not feeling too great honestly. Do you think, maybe, I could head home for the day?” you queried.

“I think that is a good idea, you should get some rest. You know, you have a bunch of time off saved up – I’m not telling you to use it, but if you wanted to, it’s there. Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m okay. And I also think I am going to take you up on that suggestion. Do you think I could take like the next four days?”

“Absolutely, I’ll submit your time. You head home and get some rest. I’ll let Garcia know, that way she won’t call you if a case comes in.” He said.

“Thanks Hotch.”

“You’re welcome. Do me a favor, let me know when you get home safe.” He requested.

**9 weeks pregnant**

The next four days passed by in a blur, you had read through all the information the OBGYN sent you home with, you’d gone and picked up your medications from the pharmacy, cleaned your house, went grocery shopping, and you gotten your results back from the doctor. You had gotten the call yesterday that your HCG levels had placed you between 8 and 9 weeks pregnant and you had scheduled your ultrasound for the following Wednesday. You’d have to tell Hotch everything when you’re back at work tomorrow.

You also made a very awkward phone call to Jensen (damn, you were wayyy off) and he had been very pleased when you informed him that you didn’t want anything from him, he agreed that it would probably be best that way. You didn’t need to be tied to some one-off forever anyway, this was for the best. You just hoped your child wouldn’t resent you for not having a present father.

A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. You checked your phone, 7:32 p.m. and a notification from Uber Eats that your tacos had been delivered! You paused your movie and shuffled to the door, checking the peephole once, then twice to confirm the identity of this visitor. You made quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

“Aaron? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you were feeling. I also ran into your delivery guy.” He explained.

“Come in, I ordered enough for two if you’re hungry?” You posed.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He shook his head.

“Not at all, come on in.”

You quickly realized that you were in sweats, a t-shirt, and slippers. You looked to Aaron taking note of his jeans and t-shirt. Casual looks good on him; you’d always thought so. You offered him a drink and invited him over to the couch, making yourselves comfortable and digging in. To the others, this may seem odd, a late-night taco date with your boss and your couch, but this was your normal.

You and Aaron had quickly realized your similarities when you first joined the team. You both had a stone exterior with a warm and fuzzy interior, you were closed off, but loyal and caring. These are the similarities that made your fast friendship so easy. The two of you hung out often, you had regular dinners together, went to movies or had movie nights, you went to the park with him and Jack, and sometimes…you even slept over. You didn’t share a bed or anything – except once when you first moved to your current apartment – your guest room hadn’t been set up yet. He was easily the person you were closest to, which is why it was terrifying to love him. You couldn’t lose him. So, you bottled up your feelings and enjoyed these moments with him.

“So, you’re feeling better then?”

You opened your mouth to reply when you felt it. That tightening lurch in your stomach. You brought your hand to cover your mouth and jumped up, desperate to get to your bathroom. You had barely made it before you were expelling your dinner into the porcelain bowl. You heaved until there was nothing left. It was only then that you felt the warmth of his hands brushing your hair back and rubbing circles over your spine. You slowly sat up and rested back against the bathtub, Aaron leaned against the counter.

“I guess it’s a good time to mention we have a mandated weekend off. I figured you were feeling better if you had ordered tacos.” Aaron teased.

“I was feeling better. And thank God. I could use the extra two days to get my shit together.” You laughed.

“What did the doctor say?” He questioned.

“Well, she uh…” You started.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“No, Aaron it’s okay. I just – I found out that I’m pregnant.” You blurted.

“Oh, that’s – wow congrats. I didn’t realize you’d started seeing someone.” He muttered.

“Thanks, and I’m not. It was just some guy I met while we were in Alabama.” You grumbled.

With Aaron’s assistance, you made your way back to the couch, not before quickly brushing your teeth. After he saw that you were settled, he went to the kitchen and grabbed your anti-nausea pills, some crackers and a ginger ale for you.

The two of you sat and talked for hours, you told him about your doctor’s appointment and the phone call with Jensen. You expressed your excitement and nervousness, both of which he met with reassurance. Aaron was quick to tell you he thought you’d make a great mother and that he, along with the rest of the BAU, would be there for you every step of the way.

The night continued on with the two of you curled up on the couch watching movies, Aaron refilling your ginger ale as needed throughout the evening. Your position had shifted slightly the longer you sat there, you had laid down, your head resting on a pillow against Aaron’s thigh, his hand delicately running through your hair. You turned your head to look up at him, the movement drawing his gaze to you.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked.

“Anything.” He whispered.

“I’m scared to do this alone. I don’t want the kid to grow up and hate me because they don’t have a dad. Plus, I always thought when I had kids, I’d be settled…ya know?” You spoke softly.

“You’re not alone in this.” He replied.

“I know Aaron, that’s not what I meant.” you sighed.

“I could do it.”

“What?” You sat up abruptly, turning to look him in the eyes.

“I could raise the baby with you, I mean if you want. I just, I always wanted a big family, and Jack has asked about having a sibling on more than one occasion, plus we’re close already…” He rambled.

“You would do that for me?” You gasped.

“Of course I would, I’d do anything for you.” He smiled softly.

“So how would this work?” You questioned.

“It’s late, why don’t we head to bed, and we can talk logistics in the morning.” He said, patting your knee.

“Okay.” You smiled.

You woke up the next morning and had to remind yourself that last night was real, Aaron had in fact offered to raise your baby with you. You got out of bed and padded your way to the kitchen. Upon entering you were met with the sight of Aaron in his sweats and a T-shirt, gliding around your kitchen, making breakfast. This felt so domestic, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest at the fact that this isn’t.

“Good morning!” You greeted.

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” He replied.

“I slept well thanks. You?”

“Pretty good actually. So, how are you feeling about my offer?” He queried.

“I’d like to take you up on it, as long as it’s still on the table. But I think we need to lay out some ground rules, or at least figure out how we would do this.” You explained.

“We’re doing this then! And I agree, we need to sort out all the details.” Aaron suggested.

Aaron and you talked about it a lot over the next few hours and had come to an agreement on nearly all subjects. Aaron would attend doctor’s appointments with you, the child would be raised by you and Aaron and for all intents and purposes, Aaron would be known as dad, when the kid is old enough, you agreed that honesty is crucial, and you’d explain that Aaron isn’t their biological dad. You had agreed on bringing the child up in a loving home and allowing your child to find their own way in religion and politics, neither of you fond of pushing either of those things on a kid. You had also agreed on the importance of education, family time, immunizations, etc.. There were a few things though, that you still weren’t sure of.

“So, Aaron, I guess I am just curious on how we would address a few things. Like with the team or anyone that asks – you’re the father? Or do we tell them there was a sperm donor? Are we honest about the situation? And what about us? Everyone is going to think we’re together. Also, the living situation, you mentioned you want to be around to help but going back and forth from my place to yours, it’s not fair to us or to Jack, what do we do?” You rattled on.

“Okay, slow down. I think with the team and family, we can tell them the truth…to anyone else, I’m the father. If that’s okay with you? For the living situation, I ugh well I was thinking, maybe we find a house? I know how crazy that sounds, but I would be closer to you to help out and Jack could be close to his sibling, at least for a while. It wouldn’t have to be permanent.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “As for us, I don’t want to complicate things sweetheart. I can’t say I’ve never thought about us…maybe we just take it day by day.” Aaron was trying to gauge your reaction.

“That all sounds perfect. We will take it day by day, see where this journey takes us.” You say, reaching to hold Aaron’s hand.

Aaron brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. His admission of thinking of the two of you as more than friends, lingers in your mind. You wondered how long he’d been thinking like that but figured you could ask him another time. The bubble you were currently in was far too precious to burst.

“So, should we start house hunting?”

Aaron chucked at your excitement and nodded happily.

**15 weeks pregnant**

The two of you agreed to wait to tell the team, at least until you had settled into your roles as co-parents. You also wanted to wait until you had progressed further in your pregnancy before you shared the news with not only the team, but also Jack. You had expressed to Aaron that you were worried Jack wouldn’t take the news well and he had assured you that Jack would be thrilled with the prospect of having a sibling. Aaron had also informed you that Jack had asked if you could be his new mom once your friendship had grown.

Things had been going well, it had been almost two months since you guys had agreed to do this together and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron had gone to your appointments with you, and that’s where you were currently headed. You had your 15-week appointment today, you’d also be doing some tests to ensure the baby is healthy.

“Alright, did you guys want to find out the baby’s sex today?”

You looked over at Aaron, and he met you with a subtle nod of confirmation. You had discussed this on the way over today.

“Yes we would!”

“You are having a girl, congratulations!” The doctor smiled and made her leave.

Aaron was quick to lean down and embrace you. You were shedding tears of joy, beaming with excitement. He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple and pulled away.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, I scheduled a showing with our realtor. I think you’re really going to like this one!” Aaron gushed.

Aaron drove you over to the most adorable home, judging from the curb appeal, you were thinking his assumption was correct. He helped you out of the vehicle and led you into the home, your realtor was waiting for you just inside the foyer.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner, welcome! Please take your time to look around, I will be in the kitchen if you need anything. Aaron, I am going to make a few calls and see what we’re looking at for this one.” Bradley informed.

The two of you agreed to act as a married couple when looking into homes, Aaron had suggested that newlyweds with a baby on the way might be more appealing to a seller. Though things between you definitely felt more like that was becoming your truth as opposed to this fantasy you’d act out when in the presence of Bradley.

Looking around, Aaron led you around the house, showing you each of the rooms on the first floor, then the second. You ended up in the master bedroom, making your way out on the balcony that overlooks the backyard.

“So, I was thinking, the two rooms downstairs, one would be my office, and the other could be a sort of den or library. Up here, Jack could have that first room, the second could be a nursery, and then the other two well they’d be ours, or one could be a guest room.” Aaron offered.

“If we made one a guest room, that would mean that we…we’d share this room? Aaron Hotchner are you suggesting that we share a room?” You teased.

“Maybe I am.” He declared.

You had been playing this game of cat and mouse for the last three weeks. It had started after you had kissed. It happened in the heat of the moment, the two of you were fighting over him subtly benching you from work, you had explained you were fine to which he admitted how important you were to him and that he couldn’t afford to lose you. Upon this revelation, you’d shared a passionate kiss. An action that you hadn’t discussed or repeated since then.

“Well, I think that could work.” You nudged him gently. “This house is perfect honey.”

“Should we go talk to Bradley?” He posed.

“I think so.”

**17 weeks pregnant**

“Can you come to my office please?” Aaron asked.

Naturally this caught the attention of the team. You could tell they were growing suspicious of you and Aaron. They used to make jokes about you guys dating all the time with how close you were, but now, taking time off together to go to doctor’s appointments and hushed conversations in his office. You were sure the team thought you two were together. And now, you guessed they weren’t exactly wrong.

“They are totally dating.” Emily insisted.

“No doubt about it. Last week they left early together on Thursday. I guess Hotch called Rossi and told him they wouldn’t be back, and Rossi said he could hear them giggling. He used those exact words.” Morgan explained.

“Hotch, giggling? No way!” JJ chimed in.

“When do you think they’ll finally come clean?” Emily wondered.

“Whenever they are ready, and none of you are going to push the issue.” Rossi declared.

The others grumbled in defeat as they returned to their tasks. Meanwhile, Aaron was informing you that Bradley had left him a voicemail, asking that the two of you return the call when you could.

“Hey Aaron, thanks for getting back to me. Listen I have good news, your offer went through. You guys got the house! I’ll email over some paperwork, and we will talk next steps soon.” Bradley rushed.

“Thank you Bradley, we appreciate it.” Aaron replied before hanging up the phone.

You shared a look before a cheerful squeal escaped your lips. You jumped into Aaron’s arms, hugging him tightly. He was quick to return it, rocking you back and forth gently.

“We got the house! I can’t believe it!”

“We did sweetheart! Do you want to come for dinner tonight, we can talk to Jack?” Aaron offered.

“That sounds great.”

You made your way back to your desk and caught the tail end of your team’s conversation. They had clearly been speculating about the nature of your relationship with Aaron, and after that little display in his office, you couldn’t blame them. You’d have to bring that up tonight, maybe it was time to come clean.

You were currently cooking dinner while Aaron helped Jack with his homework at the dining table. If this is the life you had to look forward to, you’d be a happy girl. You never felt more at home than when in the presence of the Hotchner boys. You finished up dinner and sent the boys to wash up while you set the table, they returned swiftly and the three of you began eating.

“Jack, bud, we have something we want to talk to you about.” Aaron began. “It’s pretty important and I’d really like you to let me tell you everything before you respond okay?”

“Okay.” Jack nodded, mouth full.

“You know how I’m having a baby right?” You gave him a moment to nod in reply.

“Well, that baby is going to be your little sister.” Aaron explained. “We are going to have this baby, and we’re all going to live together, in a new house. You’ll still go to the same school, but we will live in a house, all together instead of in the apartment.” Aaron concluded.

Jack’s eyes grew wide at the mass of information he’d just received. He glanced from you to Aaron and back to you once more. His mouth fell open, and he took a deep breath before speaking.

“So, does that mean you’re going to be my mom finally? Are you guys getting married? What does the house look like? Will I have to share a room with the baby? And where did the baby come from?” Jack rattled off.

“Oh, well sweetie this doesn’t necessarily mean…”

“Bud, go put your dish in the sink and change into your pjs. When you come back we will answer all of your questions.” Aaron instructed.

Jack shrugged and went first to the kitchen, then shuffled down the hall to change. Aaron knew it would take him a little bit, and he’d likely get distracted before returning, which meant he could talk to you about the first two of Jack’s questions.

“Sweetheart, if I am going to be the father of this baby, would you maybe consider being a mother to Jack? I know it is a lot, but with us living together and raising the baby together, it might make sense for me to formally adopt the baby and you to adopt Jack. That way we really could be a family. If anything happened to me, I would at least know that he’d have someone. He loves you so much and I love you, it just feels right, him wanting to call you mom.” Aaron blurted.

“Y – you love me?” You gasped.

Aaron blushed, having realized his slip up. “I do.”

“I love you too Aaron. And I would love for Jack to consider me his mom, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us all being a real family like that. As for the adoption, that sounds perfect, I’d have to call Jensen and judging how our first conversation went, it should be a non-issue.” You noted.

“We would just have to get the papers drawn up for you to adopt Jack, his mother signed away her rights when she left us.” Aaron stated.

You looked at him with a saddened expression. The thought of leaving Aaron and Jack breaks your heart, you can’t imagine how she did it so effortlessly. Aaron could see the hurt behind your gaze, and he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, drawing a heat with it.

“Can we go back to a few minutes ago when we both said “I love you” for the first time” Aaron chuckled.

You let out a giggle and nodded, leaning in to meet him halfway for a passionate kiss. The two of you have kissed before, but never like this. Kissing someone who you love and that loves you in return, well that is pure bliss.

“Eww!” Jack shrieks, covering his eyes.

The two of you share a laugh and pull away. Aaron begins clearing the table while you go to get Jack.

“Eww? Eww? Come here buddy! Let me give you a big smooch!” You laughed reaching for Jack.

His laughs rang through the apartment as you jokingly chased him around the living room. When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around him a pressed a dramatically loud kiss to his cheek. Jack feigned disgust and wiped his cheek off as Aaron entered the room, joining the two of you on the couch with a big smile on his face.

“Alright buddy, I want to answer some of your questions okay?”

“Okay dad.”

“So, let’s start with the house, you are going to have your own room. The house is big with a yard that we can practice soccer in and a pool for us to swim! You will get to see the house soon; we are going to move in just a few weeks.” Aaron explained.

“As for me bud, if you want to call me mom you absolutely can. We aren’t getting married just yet, but we are a family sweetie.” You gently ruffle his hair.

“Okay mom, but you didn’t answer my last question! Where do babies come from?”

Your heart soared at the name, but both you and Aaron choked at his question.

“Uh, we will talk about that when you’re a little older. Go get ready for bed.”

**26 weeks pregnant**

You were nearing week 26 of your pregnancy and you knew, beyond a doubt, that the entire team knew you were pregnant, you hadn’t really been hiding it other than some loose-fitting tops. None of them said anything, but they were all doing everything in their power to make sure you were comfortable, safe, and feeling well in the office and even more so in the field.

On your last case, the whole team worked to keep you stuck in the local precinct as to avoid any potential harm. You knew they were just being protective, but your doctor said you were fine to continue field work for at least a few more weeks. You wanted to work while you still could, and you decided to talk to Aaron about finally coming clean to the team.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quick?” You asked, entering his office.

“Am I talking to you as your boss or as your significant other?” He questions.

“Both I guess? Aaron, I think we need to tell the team. They already know I’m pregnant, that I am sure of. But they are acting like I am made of glass, and I would really like to keep working while I still can.” You declared.

“Sweetheart I can’t say I am particularly upset about everyone being extra cautious for you. I want you safe, and they do too. But if you’re ready to tell them, then let’s tell them.” He admitted.

Aaron called the team to the round table so the two of you could come clean about everything. In the last 18 weeks, your lives had drastically changed for the better, and they’d only continue to do so, so it was only right that you have your BAU family involved and around for the joy to come.

“I called you all in here because we have some news we’d like to share with you all.” Aaron said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled up at him before continuing. “I am pregnant, as you all already seem to know…but that’s not all.” You and Aaron told the team about your relationship, the pregnancy and how it came to be, Aaron stepping in and being the father, the new house and how you moved in together, you told them everything.

The team met you with shocked expressions, before they bombarded you with congratulations, embraces, and some questions. They asked about Jack and his reaction, they asked about the baby’s biological father, and they asked if an engagement was coming soon.

You had explained that the adoption process had already begun for Aaron and the baby, that Jensen was more than willing to waive his parental rights. You’d also told them how Jack started calling you mom and you were planning to ask him if you could adopt him officially in a few weeks and Aaron said an engagement would occur soon enough as long as you’d have him.

To close out your family meeting, you’d politely asked everyone to remember that you were pregnant, not incompetent, and you would appreciate it if they would let you work like normal (mostly) for the last few weeks you’d be able to. They agreed with some apprehension as long as you’d be careful and let the others lead.

**33 weeks pregnant**

The team had travelled to Colorado for a case, you knew that this would be one of the last times you’d get to travel with the team, so you were going to give this case your all.

For the last month, Aaron had definitely broken his promise and was keeping you on a tight leash. You knew he was only protecting you, but you wanted to do your job. You were damn good at it, and you weren’t going to let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Alright, you are going to stay here and work on the geographical profile with Reid, and I am, going to the latest crime scene with Morgan.” Aaron stated.

“I’d like to go with Morgan actually. I think that my skills would be better suited that way.” You disputed, sending a glare Aaron’s way.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” Aaron started.

“Hotch. Let me do my job.”

“Okay go. Be careful, please.” Aaron pleaded.

Morgan drove you to the latest crime scene and you both looked around observing all of the evidence markers and trying to gather as much information as you could. The two of you were bouncing ideas off of one another when glass breaking sounded downstairs.

Morgan brought a finger to his lips signaling to be silent. You both raised your weapons and made your way to the landing. Morgan leaned around the corner to see if he could catch a glimpse of the intruder from the top of the stairs. When it came up empty, he motioned that he was going downstairs, silently telling you he’d let you know when it was safe to follow.

You didn’t move until Morgan signaled for you to do so. When he did, you carefully made your way downstairs. He went left and you went right, making your way through the first level of the home you noticed a broken lamp next to an open window in the living room. Before you had a chance to react, a man grabbed you from behind, his arm wrapping around your throat and his gun pressed to your temple.

“Call out to your partner.” He hissed, pressing the gun further into your skin.

“Morgan, in the living room!” You called.

“Did you find someth-” Morgan trailed off, seeing the unsub holding you. “Woah, okay. We don’t want any trouble okay. You can let her go. We can get you whatever you want man.” Morgan offered.

“DON’T TRY TO PLAY GAMES WITH ME!” The unsub bellowed.

“We’re not – trying to play games with you. We just want everyone to leave here unharmed.” You tried to console the unsub.

“NO! LOOK AT HIM! HE’S GONNA TRY AND SHOOT ME THE SECOND I LET YOU GO! I’M NOT FUCKING STUPID!” The unsub cried.

You could tell he was devolving; he was young, intimidated and sick of being pushed around by men in positions of power. Most notably, his father.

“You’re right. He probably will try and shoot. He’s cocky like that. Always walking around like he’s a gift from God himself. Barking orders at his subordinates and making passes at any female employee. It makes me sick.” You played into his delusions.

“He treats you like that?” The unsub wavered.

“He does. And I can’t stand it! I am sick of being treated like I’m less than. Like I’m not good enough to be here! I deserve more, you deserve more. We are strong and capable, and we should be treated as such.” You continued to work this unsub while Morgan slowly moved into position.

“You’re right! If you can see that, why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he see that I am enough!” The unsub sobbed, his hands dropping to his sides.

Morgan swooped in and handcuffed him after gently grabbing his gun from his hand. The unsub sobbed quietly, realizing the error of his ways. You moved to sit in a nearby chair and Morgan pulled out his phone to call for backup.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, rushing to your side. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you coming with Morgan.”

“Aaron, honey, I’m okay!” You reassured him.

“Hotch, your girl single handedly talked the guy off the ledge. She’s the reason we’re all safe.” Morgan explained.

Aaron looked at you once again. Taking in every part of your body to ensure you had no injuries. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb to glance at your right temple, making a note of the slight bruise that’s developing there.

“I want you to get checked out before we go home.” Aaron informed.

“Okay.” You said, knowing arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere.

After spending far too long at the hospital, you were headed back to the hotel with a clean bill of health for both you and your baby girl. Aaron’s hands hadn’t left you since he’d rushed to your side at the crime scene. They were either holding your own, pressed to the small of your back, or resting on your leg. You knew he was just trying to ground himself in the fact that you were safe.

That night you and Aaron shared a conversation about you going on desk duty for the next few weeks, before your maternity leave started. He was a bit shocked that you didn’t fight him on it…not even a little bit.

**39 weeks pregnant**

You had been on maternity leave for all of five days and you were already out of your mind. The only thing you were grateful for was the fact that you got to spend so much time with Jack.

Your adoption of him had been finalized two weeks ago and everything was done regarding Aaron adopting the baby. Now, you were just awaiting the arrival of your daughter. You were more than ready for her to be here and out of your body, and while the pregnancy hadn’t been particularly difficult, you were exhausted and bloated and just ready to be done.

You were in the kitchen making lunch for Jack and you while he played in the living room. He’d requested a grilled cheese sandwich with some tomato soup. You had just flipped the sandwich when a contraction hit. The pain washed over you, radiating down your spine and through your pelvis. You took a deep breath and check the time, they were about fifteen minutes apart right now, the contractions kept you up all night and had been consistent all day.

“Okay bud, lunch is served!” You set his food down in front of him on the coffee table.

“Thanks mom!” He smiled, taking a big bite of grilled cheese.

“You’re welco-” a sharp hiss escaped your mouth.

Checking the clock again you realize it’s only been about five minutes since the last one. You take a few deep breaths and look around for your phone, it might be time to text Aaron.

“Mom, are you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah bub I’m okay. I think your sister is getting ready to come.” You explained.

“Really? I can’t wait to meet her!” Jack cheered, resting one of his hands on your swollen belly.

“I can’t wait either. Jack, could you uh – could you go grab my phone hon?” You requested.

“Okay!” He wandered over to the kitchen to grab your phone.

You felt another contraction coming on and realized that they were coming one after another in shorter bursts of times. You needed to get to the hospital.

Jack returned from the kitchen with your phone and handed it to you. You were quick to dial Aaron’s number. It rang three times before he picked up.

“Hey sweetheart. Is everything okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah honey, it – it’s time. She’s coming.”

“Now? How far apart are your contractions? Did your water break? Are you in pain? Should I call an ambulance to come and take you to the hospital?” Aaron rattled off question after question.

“Aaron, baby, contractions are three minutes apart now, my water hasn’t broken, I’m not in too much pain, and please don’t call an ambulance. I will drive myself and Jack to the hospital. Meet us there.”

“I will sweetheart. The go bag is on the floor of the closet, on the right side. And the car seat has already been installed. I am leaving right now.” Aaron promised.

“Okay! See you soon.”

**36 weeks pregnant**

“Mrs. Hotchner, can we go swimming?” Henry asked.

“Of course, bud, you boys go get your swim trunks on and I will get Nora changed. Okay?” You looked at the three boys for confirmation.

After they all shouted okay, they ran to Jack’s room and the bathroom to change, you walked with Nora upstairs to help her change into her swimsuit.

“Alright bug, pink or green?” You asked her.

“No. Blue momma, blue!” Nora demanded.

“Okay bug, blue suit.” You agreed.

You got Nora changed and brought her into your room, before you changed into your own bathing suit in the on-suite bathroom. When you exited, you grabbed Nora and then made sure the boys were all ready and that they had put on sunscreen. The five of you made your way outside, the boys were quick to jump straight into the pool, and you made sure to put on Nora’s swimming vest.

Aaron stepped away from the grill and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder before leaning down and kissing Nora’s head. He went back to the grill and got it cleaned and ready for the burgers you were making tonight.

“JJ texted and said her and Will were on their way. She said to thank you again for picking the boys up from school.” Aaron let you know.

“She doesn’t need to thank me.” You scoffed. “The boys all go to the same school and with me on maternity leave, I have nothing better to do.” You laughed.

“I’m excited to see the team, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together.” Aaron sighed, slipping into the pool with you.

“I know honey. We’ve all just been so busy…that’s why it’s taken this long for us to do this reveal” You hugged him. “Do you regret taking the promotion?”

“Not for even a second. It has allowed me more time with you and the kids. I got to see almost all of Nora’s milestones, and I am so excited for this little one to join us here soon.” Aaron said caressing your belly once more.

“I can’t wait either.” You smiled.

One by one the team began filing in through the back gate. Derek and Savanah had come in with Hank. JJ and Will had come in and were quick to greet their sons. Emily, Spencer and Penelope arrived all at once saying their hellos and quickly getting into the pool. And Rossi arrived last, he set the cake and wine in the kitchen and made himself comfortable in the lounge chairs on the deck.

Time passed in slow motion, you made conversation with those around you and ate dinner (Aaron and Derek standing over the grill drinking beer…they were arguing over how long to cook the burgers). Everyone got out of the pool and as the adults sat on the lounge chairs, the kids ran around in the yard, playing soccer.

“Are you guys ready?” Dave asked

After you and Aaron nodded, Dave went to grab the cake. You called everyone over to the table and let them know that you chose to reveal the gender this way because you didn’t want some big flashy party, but rather to be surrounded by loved ones.

“So, there’s one other announcement I’d like to make before we do the gender reveal.” You began. “I will not be returning to the BAU after the birth.”

A chorus of “what do you mean” and “why” and “that’s not funny” rang out around you. This was something that you’d been at war with yourself over for the entirety of this pregnancy. Aaron taking the promotion to a director position, it had shockingly allowed him more time with your family, and it provided a safety that his previous position had hindered. It was a culmination of those facts that led you to your decision.

“What does this mean though? What are you going to do?” Spencer was the one to ask.

“I’m going to teach.” You smiled. “I was offered a position, within the FBI, to teach. You guys will still get to see me, and we will still host everyone, but the hours are better, and they’ll allow me more time at home.”

The team exchanged solemn expressions, but ultimately wished you well. They let you know that they’d miss you and the team wouldn’t be the same without you, but they understood.

“Okay! Sorry. Onto a much happier topic – the gender reveal of our baby!” You exclaimed.

Aaron and you each took a wine glass and held them upside down over opposite edges of the cake. The team counted down 3…2…1…and you and Aaron plunged the glasses into the cake. You each brought the glasses up and held them out in front of you, confusion etched on the faces of those standing before you.

“OH MY GOD! It’s twins! It’s twins isn’t it!” Penelope shouted with glee.

In front of you, enclosed in the wine glass were layers of chocolate cake intermixed with blue frosting. And in front of Aaron was a glass housing chocolate cake with pink frosting. The two of you shared a look, one that held nothing but love and adoration for one another and the beautiful life you’ve built with one another. You loved each other more than anything and your growing family was proof of that, Jack and Nora had been thrilled that they’d be getting both a little brother and sister, and in just a few short weeks, they’d make their debut.

978 notes · View notes

manonssunset · 4 days ago

Text

"UNWRAP ME"

pairing: huh yunjin x fem!reader

synopsys: yunjin mentioned she has a special christmas surprise waiting for you. when you arrived at home, you were surprised to find out that the special gift was her, seated beneath the christmas tree, ready for you to "unwrap" her.

warnings/tags: language, smut, nsfw content under the cut, established relationship, service top!reader, yunjin is the one giving commands, lingerie, dry humping (thigh riding)

wc: +3,4k

a/n: happy new year, guys! this is my special (super late) gift for you all, also first time posting something like this on the blog. I hope you find it hot, lol. this took me longer than expected, but I’m satisfied with the way it turned out. I reduced the smut part substantially because, honestly, you would have had to wait another 10 days to read it, bye 💀. but I still wrote almost 600 words of just them kissing, so there's that.

working through christmas was always quiet and a bit annoying, with clients constantly bragging about their exotic holiday plans or the luxurious gifts they were preparing to buy. but the truth was, you had no reason to feel envious. after all, you had the most priceless gift of all: yunjin, the kind of girl most could only wish for.

the sharp ding of your phone’s notification pulled you out of your thoughts. it was a sudden interruption, cutting through the steady rhythm of clicking fingers on keyboards, sounds that were all too familiar in the office. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see an email or maybe a quick reminder from a colleague. instead, your gaze fell on a message from your girlfriend. she often checked in on you while you worked, and you always found it endearing.

this time, however, the message wasn’t the usual question about how work was going or a casual mention of what she was making for dinner. no, this one felt entirely different.

[jen 💋]: your special gift is waiting for you under the tree, please get home as soon as you can ;)

[you]: 10 minutes and I'm out

the message felt playful, almost teasing, and you were thrilled at the thought of what awaited you at home. she had mentioned before that she had something special prepared just for you, a gift that, in her words, you were going to absolutely love, said in that sensual tone of hers that always left your head spinning. to say you were eager to find out what she meant was an understatement.

-♧-

your hand trembled slightly as you gripped the keys to your shared apartment, anticipation rising with every turn of the metal. when the door finally clicked open, the soothing scent of vanilla and wood greeted you, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by an unexpected darkness in the room, the only light coming from the flickering glow of candles scattered around the space.

the silence was unnerving, an absence that made you pause. the only sound was the occasional crackle of the candles, yet it felt like something, or someone, was missing. yunjin’s presence, which you had so eagerly anticipated, wasn’t there to greet you as you had expected. she had promised to show you the long-awaited gift she’d been teasing you about all week, and yet, there was no sign of her.

your gaze instinctively shifted to the bottom of the christmas tree, and for a moment, you froze. your heart skipped a beat, and it took a second for your mind to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. she was there, wearing a black silk robe, held together with a red rope tied into a bow, like some kind of living present waiting just for you. the light from the candles reflected off the fabric, giving her an almost ethereal glow. she lay on the carpet, looking up at you with an inviting, seductive gaze.

your breath caught up in your throat, and for a brief second, you weren't sure if you should move closer or stay rooted in place. you gulped as you stood still, speechless, completely captivated by the sight before you. “you're finally home, I've been waiting for you” you felt your knees weaken at the tone of her voice, filled with control and sensuality. you couldn’t form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to be able to articulate anything.

she rose with grace, and, as she closed the distance between you two, each of her steps were accompanied by heels tapping against the floor. It was as though a muse was walking towards you, her hips swaying from side to side with an elegant, almost hypnotic confidence. your heartbeat quickened as she got closer, and instinctively, you started taking steps back, your senses heightened, your mind a mix of conflicting emotions. part of you wanted to ask what was happening, but another part was curious to see where this moment would lead.

the back of your legs collided with the couch, and you suddenly felt cornered, with nowhere to go, no escape from her approaching presence. a sly smirk tugged at her lips as she closed the distance, gently pushing you to sit down. the coldness of the cushions on your skin contrasted sharply with the warmth spreading inside you. your gazes locked, and in that instant, the desire in her eyes was so intense it felt almost magnetic, drawing you in, making you want to lose yourself in her and everything she embodied.

she positioned herself comfortably on your lap, her movements slow, milky legs peeking out from beneath the robe. it was then that you noticed the meticulous attention she had paid to her makeup, each detail enhancing her beauty. she had even chosen your favorite perfume, a sweet vanilla scent that perfectly complemented the fragrance of the candles. it was clear now that she had carefully orchestrated this moment, aiming to give you a show that you were bound to enjoy.

the sudden closeness caused heat to flood your face. the slight pressure of her body pressed against yours sent your mind into overdrive. you could feel every subtle shift of her weight, making it hard to focus on anything else that wasn’t her. your hand instinctively went to her thighs, gently massaging the soft skin that radiated warmth under your fingertips. she gently traced her fingers up your arms, the light touch sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, before placing them on top of your shoulders.

you stilled as her face inched closer, her lips just centimetres from your ear. in this proximity, the intoxicating scent of her perfume magnified tenfold, its sweetness filling your senses and clouding your thoughts. her breath was warm against your skin as she whispered “unwrap me”, her voice drenched in the same seductive tone that never failed to unsettle and allure you in. she noticed the subtle tension in your body after her words, the air thickened, growing more charged than before. your hands slowly made their way to the ribbon, fingertips grazing the soft fabric, before you finally gripped its ends.

you trembled as you undid the knot, the cool, soft fabric of the ribbon slipping smoothly beneath your fingers. the knot was simple but each movement felt agonizingly slow, as though time itself was stretching, drawn out by the weight of her gaze. her eyes, full of expectation, never left you, and the intensity of her look made your breath catch in your throat.

you held your breath as the ribbon finally loosened, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears. all the anticipation that had built from the moment she’d sent that text was unraveling now, piece by piece, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension hang in the air.

your eyes followed the path of her robe as it fell open, slipping off her shoulder to reveal what she had kept hidden until now. you couldn't help it when a gasp escaped your lips as you finally took in the sight before you: yunjin, all dolled up for you, wearing nothing more than a red lace set of lingerie. it accentuated her curves in a way that left your jaw slightly open, yet her elegance remained unmistakable. her set was far from tacky or overly explicit, it clung to her body with a sensuality that balanced provocativeness and sophistication. it revealed just enough, embracing her shape while maintaining a sense of grace and modesty.

the warm, golden hues of the room bathed her exposed skin, creating a soft, radiant glow. she resembled a living version of venus, as if she had stepped out of a renaissance painting, one that belonged in a museum. arousal swept through you as a tingling sensation began to rise. the tightness that had formed in your stomach spread lower, a pulsing ache that clouded your mind with lust. it was clear that the feeling was mutual. the intensity of her gaze and the way her eyes locked with yours was a telltale sign that she was consumed too by the same need. her restless shifting, searching for the friction she desperately craved, also spoke volume.

she broke the silence with a question, her voice quieter, tinged with an unexpected hint of uncertainty. “do you like it?” despite your obvious reaction, she still sought confirmation, her usual confidence momentarily slipping. “jen, I don't think you understand how much I love it,” you said, almost baffled by her question. it wasn’t just about the lingerie, although it was stunning, it was everything she had done for this moment, all the care and effort she had put into it, just for you. and above all, it was her, the most important person for you. “thank you, baby,” she replied, her seductive tone returning as she cupped your face with both hands and leaned closer. “now, let’s get to the good part.”

her lips crashed against yours with urgency, the relentlessness evident in the way she yanked you closer, her fingers gripping the back of your head, anchoring themselves in your hair. the contact was frantic, as if she couldn't get enough of you. she tilted her head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss as you let your hands roam her body freely, your fingers caressing her skin before resting on her waist. there was a raw desperation in the way she kissed you, as if she was trying to devour you; her longing for you was unmistakable, like she could no longer keep it contained.

the way her lips moved with yours was soothing, the warmth of her skin sinking deep into you, making everything else fade away. your bodies were so close, it was almost as if you were breathing each other in, each subtle movement heightening the feeling of intimacy. the kiss was the physical manifestation of the desire you had both been hiding, the need to feel every part of each other becoming almost overwhelming. it wasn't anymore just about meeting lips, it was about being intertwined, your bodies pressing against each other in perfect harmony.

you both pulled away briefly, her breath was ragged and shallow, a soft whimper escaping her as you squeezed the flesh of her ass. you both lingered there, a brief pause from the intensity of the session, both of your lips slightly parted as you caught your breath, chest rising and falling in sync. her pupils were dilated, a hint of something in her eyes, an unspoken impulse that was being held back, waiting to be released. you heard her mumble a quiet “fuck it” and before you could even register her words, she tugged you forward by the collar of your shirt, your lips making contact again.

her tongue ran gently over your lips, applying pressure as a silent invitation to enter. you granted her request, allowing her muscle to invade your mouth, lightly sucking on it. she let out a surprised gasp at the sensation, her fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your button up shirt. as you massaged your tongues together in a gentle but intense dance, teeth clicking and saliva exchanging, your hands returned around her waist, pressing into the softness of her skin. you carefully bit her bottom lip, drawing it between yours as you continued sucking. it was all too much for her, the sensation was overwhelming, and her control slowly slipped away.

she began grinding on your lap as you were still kissing, her body moving effortlessly as she chased her own pleasure. you guided her hips and pressed her down further more, and she let out little, desperate gasps every time your lips parted to allow oxygen in. you couldn't lie and say that yunjin using you as a way to get off didn't turn you on, the sensation was electrifying, and you felt your own desire seep through your panties, soaking them.

“mmph–ahh, jesus—” her sweet moans were muffled by your lips, creating a delicious symphony that reverberated in the confines of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. the rough fabric of your work pants against her thin panties generated the ideal friction on her clit, making her mind go fuzzy. her hands roamed aimlessly, grasping and gripping whatever lay within reach: the fabric of your shirt, your arms, the back of your neck, your hair, and so on. she was riding your thigh so desperately it was almost cinematic: erratically moving her hips, grinding down, attempting to rub every time on the same perfect spot that gave her immense pleasure.

the room was starting to feel too hot for you. the heat from the candles, but especially from the union of your two bodies so close together, was becoming unbearable, so you decided to break the kiss to remove some of your clothing. after you delicately pushed yunjin back, allowing her body to rest on your legs, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight before you. it was beautiful; a clear, glassy strand of saliva was still connecting the two of you, a quiet reminder of your closeness. she was about to whine at the loss of contact when she also realized what she was seeing, and a small genuine smile tugged at her lips.

you took advantage of the quiet moment to finally contemplate your girlfriend’s physical state: her face had a subtle pink flush that still peeped through even under her makeup, her lips were a strong red color that matched her lingerie, and they were quite swollen, an evident consequence of the kissing. her eyes were like a window to the multitude of emotions that pervaded her: delight, confidence, a bit of frustration, and, above all, desire. as your gaze moved lower down her body, you spotted a wet patch on her underwear; the fabric turned a much darker shade of red, and you wanted nothing more than to get a taste of the source of that change.

she noticed your intense stare and turned her head, flustered. “stop staring at me like that,” she said softly, her voice pulling you out of your trance as you felt her left hand brush over the skin of your face, settling on your jaw. in that moment, all your focus was on her. “no, but seriously,” she started, her tone firm like she needed you to be serious with her. “why did you stop?” her question was accompanied by a tiny pout, which made you smile, her frustration evident in her puppy-like features. you let out a slight chuckle in response, placing your hand over hers as a sign of reassurance.

“I was honestly just too hot and wanted to take my shirt off,” you truthfully replied with a grin, finding the simplicity of your answer pretty amusing. as the words left your mouth, her pout melted away into a smile, mirroring yours. underlying her happiness though, she felt a tingling sensation begin to rise, a silent excitement at seeing you without your shirt. “do that then,” you caught her need by the urgency of her command and by the way she looked at you, as if she had already taken your shirt off with her eyes. you were more than happy to comply, gradually undoing all of your buttons just to tease her.

her whole demeanor was full of anticipation, she had folded her hands diligently on her lap while she watched you do your thing. as you slowly stripped for her, dragging out all of your movements since you knew it would turn her on more, she spotted your sculpted abs and your muscular arms, finally free of your shirt. the sight hit her all at once, causing her thighs to impulsively clench around yours and her hips to buck into the air.

heat flooded her face as she blushed in embarrassment, her reaction an obvious indication of her neediness; her head dropped into the crook of your now fully exposed neck, as if she was trying to hide from you. she took advantage of the closeness to inhale the scent your body. it was a mix of the aquatic and musky fragrance you used at work, one she could never resist whenever you wore it, mingled with the natural, comforting aroma of your skin. this mixture was fatal for yunjin, the scent did unspeakable things to her, her already soaked panties now starting to leave a wet spot on your own pants, and she was growing more desperate with each second that passed.

you were quick to detect it, knowing exactly what she was craving for in that moment, taking the lead for the first time that night. “come on, ride my thigh,” you ordered as you patted your right leg, knowing that having just one of your thighs between her legs would cause her far more friction than simply rocking into your lap. the sudden switch in your tone of voice went straight to yunjin's core as more of her fluids gushed out. she weakly nodded and stood on her trembling knees, holding onto your bare shoulders and submissively following your order. you gripped her waist to keep her stable as she moved over to your thigh, carefully positioning herself.

“fuck!” she exclaimed when you suddenly pulled her down onto your leg with force, the unexpected contact with her sensitive clit causing her to gasp loudly in response. her face contorted with pleasure as she began riding your thigh, her hips moving like waves, crashing and withdrawing in a rhythmic pattern. “oh–oh my god,” she moaned beautifully, letting out melodic sounds with each movement of her hips. “this feels so good,” the pleasure she was experiencing led her eyes to close tightly and her mouth to open.

“good girl, keep moving,” you purred into her ear as your hands dragged her back and forth. her brain short-circuited at the name you gave her: she squirmed on top of you, her hips stuttering as a familiar sensation started to build inside her. she mewled in response; the commanding, dominant yunjin who had left you flustered just minutes ago was now a moaning mess under your touch. “ah— god” she threw her head back as she felt your thigh twitch and stiffen beneath her, providing the perfect solidity against her clit.

as she continued to hump, your hands left her waist and slowly worked their way up to her chest, not without lightly scratching her skin, causing a burning sensation to spread beneath the surface. you began massaging and caressing her tits over her bra, lazily rubbing circles with your thumbs across the fabric. just the light pressure was enough for her to feel pleasure as more lewd sounds left her mouth. so it came as no surprise that, when you exposed her nipples and pinched them with your fingers, she let out a guttural scream. “fu-fuck–please, keep— ahh— keep doing that,” she begged as you twisted and pulled her sensitive buds.

her insides started to burn, a tight knot in her low abdomen indicated that her orgasm was near. “are you close?” you asked as you noticed her movements become sloppier and her moans rising in pitch. “y-yes, I— please— please let me come.” her voice trembled as she pleaded for your permission. as much as you wanted to tease her, to push her just a little further, you couldn’t resist and granted her request. “go ahead baby,” the moment you were done speaking you felt her body still in your hands, her back arched and her head thrown back. her vision faded to black as she reached her climax, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she cried out a mixture of curse words and little “thank you”s.

she collapsed into your arms, her body was now a limp weight pressed against your chest. her head nestled against your neck, her eyes closed as she focused on regaining the stable rhythm of her breath. you gently stroked her hair as a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you, the only sounds being the soft crackle of the candles and her breathing. the warmth of her body pressed against yours was like a gentle caress, a comforting embrace that made you melt into your seat. “can we stay like this for a bit?” she asked softly, her voice hoarse from all the moaning, and her arms tightened around you as she clung to your torso. “of course,” you replied, leaning your head over hers and caressing her back, savoring the closeness. “whatever you want.”

a/n: oof, this one was really long to write, I'm so sorry for the wait, guys, hope you like it!

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