#but i will read all your pregnancy fics in a heartbeat

[just-a-little-nut]

I think it should be illegal how good these pregnancy/ single parent fics are. Like who told you that I want a lil baby on my hip to absolutely body these men? Who told you that yes, I am soft for a big ole man who will buy my weird ass cravings and I ain't even let him in my bedroom yet. Just seeing the way a person treats a parent and their kids without even wanting anything in return is peak vibe check.

[requiemforthepoets]

baby peanut! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: keeping your pregnancy from lando was proven to be very hard when all you want is tell him the amazing news that you both are expecting again. but since his birthday was coming up, you waited for his special day to tell him.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: reader is french-russian, multicultural household, established relationships, pregnancy, typos, and gramatical errors

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY LANDO DAY!!!!! was debating on posting a new fic for him, but decided to just make it a part of the norris family series, though this can be read as a stand alone. hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The soft morning light was just beginning to filter through the white curtains when you stirred awake, glancing over to see Lando fast asleep beside you. His peaceful face looked even more boyish, framed by the tousled strands of hair he hadn’t bothered to tame before collapsing into bed after last night’s stream. It had been hours before he joined you in bed, he and Max laughing and gaming into the early morning, and you knew he deserved this rest.

Just as you began to carefully sit up, you heard a soft rustling sound from the bedroom doorway. Peeking over, you spotted a small figure, a very familiar figure—a little silhouette with tousled hair, just like Lando’s, and sparkling eyes, trying best to tiptoe into the room. It was Thylane, with her tiny hands clutching her favorite blankie. You could see that she was struggling to hold back a giggle as she glanced over at her sleeping father.

Smiling, you brought a finger to your lips, silently shushing her. Thylane’s eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step, freezing in the doorway. You motioned gently for her to come closer to you, and she padded over quietly, looking up at you expectantly.

“Is Papa awake yet?” She whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

The eagerness in her tone made your heart swell, and you could not help but lean down, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“No, mon amour,” you whispered back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Papa had a very late night with Uncle Max. He needs his sleep, let’s let him rest a little longer, hm?”

Thylane nodded, her expression brightening at the thought of what you had in mind. “But it’s Papa’s birthday! I want to say happy birthday to him!”

“I know, my love. But how about we go to the kitchen, just you and me, and make a special birthday breakfast for Papa? Then we can surprise him together when he wakes up, and…” you paused, heart fluttering as you thought about the special surprise you had planned, one that you had kept to yourself until today. “And there’s something very exciting we’ll be giving him. Something you’re going to help me with, too.”

Her eyes lit up, and she bounced on her toes, already whispering with excitement. “What is it, Mama?”

“You’ll see, mon petit trésor,” you murmured with a soft smile. “It’s a surprise just as much for you as it is for your Papa. Now, come on.”

You grabbed your silk robe by the vanity chair and put it on. Taking Thylane’s little hand in yours, you casted a quick glance back at Lando. You leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and for a heartbeat, you just admired the peaceful look on his face, hoping he would carry that warmth with him when he awoke to find you both by his side. Then you carefully lifted Thylane into your arms to keep her quiet and avoid the soft creaks of the floorboards as you slipped out of the room together.

You and Thylane moved quietly into the kitchen, both of you filled with anticipation. The kitchen was softly lit by the morning sun, casting a warm glow over the countertops as you gathered everything you needed for Lando’s birthday breakfast, with Thylane already clutching the whisk with her small hands, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried her best to mix the batter for the pancakes.

“Like this, Mama?” She asked, glancing up at you, her face bright with determination.

“Oui, parfait, mon ange,” you replied, ruffling her hair lightly. “Now, tu peux ajouter les blueberries. Add the blueberries, like this.” You handed her a small bowl of plump blueberries, showing her how to fold them gently into the batter.

She followed your instructions very carefully, not wanting to ruin Lando’s surprise, her little fingers pushing each blueberry into the mix with care, her eyes darting to you every so often to check if she was doing it right.

“Is Papa going to love it?” She whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course Papa’s going to love it because you made it for him,” you assured her, watching her face break into a wide grin. “Now, pass me the flour, please—la farine. Careful, don’t spill.”

With both hands, Thylane picked up the small bag of flour and brought it over, the look of focus never leaving her face. She had switched to a more serious demeanor, taking her role as your little sous-chef very seriously.

“Here, Mama!” She said proudly, handing it to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Merci, mon trésor,” you replied, taking the flour and measuring out the right amount for the batter. “Okay, now you can stir again, doucement, like this.” You demonstrated, letting her hands follow yours as you guided her through the gentle motions.

When the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, you and Thylane both stood back, admiring your creation.

“Look at what we made together,” you said softly, squeezing Thylane’s shoulder. “Papa will be very happy.”

Thylane clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Can we give it to him now?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, a smile forming on your lips. “There’s one more surprise we need to get ready.”

Walking over to the drawer, you retrieved the small acrylic box, some soft cloth, and your carefully wrapped pregnancy test. Thylane’s brows furrowed as she watched you, her head tilting with curiosity.

“What’s that, Mama?” She asked, peering closely at the box as you placed the soft cloth inside.

“This, my love, is a very special surprise for Papa,” you knelt down so that you were eye-level with her, placing the test in the box atop the folded cloth. “Do you remember how you told me you wanted to have a little brother or sister?”

Thylane’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes! Does this mean…”

“Yes, Tilly. This means you’re going to be a big sister.” You smiled warmly at her.

Her face lit up, her mouth forming a perfect little “O” of excitement. “Really, Mama? I get a baby brother or sister?”

“Yes, mon trésor,” you nodded, laughing softly at her reaction. “We don’t know yet if it’s a brother or sister, but the baby is here, right inside Mama’s tummy, just a little peanut for now.”

Thylane’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she pressed her small hands to your stomach as if she was trying to feel the baby herself.

“A baby peanut!” She giggled, delight shining in her face. “Can we call the baby that for now?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing her hair back. “Until we know more, we can call your little sibling, baby peanut.” She grinned, clearly enamored with the idea, and watched carefully as you tied the ribbon around the box with care.

“Can I help with the ribbon?” She asked, her hand already reaching out eagerly.

“Of course, here.” You said, guiding her hand as she carefully looped the ribbon around, tightening it with a gentle tug and finishing it off in a neat bow.

“Where should we put it, Mama?” She asked, glancing around the room.

You took a quick look at the cozy space, then pointed to a spot on the kitchen counter, just out of Lando’s immediate line of sight.

“Right here,” you decided, setting the box down gently. “That way, Papa won’t see it right away.”

Thylane nodded, grinning widely. “I can’t wait to see Papa’s reaction!”

With breakfast prepared and the surprise box tucked safely out of sight, you and Thylane made your way back to the bedroom, eager to wake up the birthday boy. By now, the sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow across the room as you nudged the door open to your and Lando’s bedroom. You expected to see Lando still sleeping peacefully, but instead, he was already awake, propped up on pillows with his phone in his hand, scrolling with a sleepy smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, Thylane let out a squeal of excitement and sprinted towards the bed, practically launching herself onto him. Lando barely had time to react before she pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and showering Lando’s face with small kisses.

“Happy birthday, Papa! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” She chanted, each word punctuated with a giggling kiss to Lando’s cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lando can’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Tilly!” He replied, chuckling as he looked up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a special wake-up call on my birthday before.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with pride. “I made you a biiiiig birthday card last night! It’s pink, and has lots of hearts and sparkles on it, and I even drew a race car!”

“Woah, a race car? Just for me? Now that is one special card,” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear as he smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s the best card in the whole world.”

Giggling, Thylane seated herself on top of his stomach, her little hands resting on his chest as she looked down at Lando with pure adoration. You leaned against the doorway, laughing at the sweet sight in front of you before walking over to the bed and settling down beside Lando.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but laced with affection. “I’m so happy that I get to spend my birthday with my favorite girls.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered, smiling against his lips before pulling back just slightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Lando grinned, puckering his lips again, silently asking for another kiss. Laughing, you leaned down, giving him another soft kiss, feeling his hand come up to gently cup your cheek. In that moment, it was just the three of you, wrapped in warmth and love, as if nothing else in the world existed. As you pulled back, Thylane let out a little giggle, pointing at the two of you with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, Mama and Papa!” She teased, though her face betrayed nothing but happiness.

Lando laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Hey, I deserve a birthday kiss, don’t I?”

“Papa! Mama and I made you a special breakfast!” She announced, clapping her hands. “We worked really, really hard. I even put the blueberries in all by myself!”

“No way! You mean to tell me you were my chef this morning, too?” Lando ticked her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

Thylane laughed, wiggling under his tickling fingers. “Yes, I’m your chef today! Mama showed me how to make everything.”

“Well, now I definitely have to see what my two favorite girls cooked up,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Lando reached over, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close, then lifted Thylane into his other arm. She squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling her head against Lando’s shoulder. As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, Lando kept his arm secure around your waist, pulling you close as Thylane chattered excitedly about breakfast.

“Mama taught me how to fold in the blueberries so they wouldn’t smush!” She said proudly. “And we made a big stack of pancakes with syrup and blueberries and…oh! And I even helped tie a bow for your present!”

Lando gave you a curious look over Thylane’s shoulder. “A present, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I’m starting to think you two were up to a lot more than just breakfast this morning.”

“Hm, maybe we were,” you replied, smiling playfully as you reached up to brush a strand of his hair back. “But you’ll have to be patient to find out.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Well, I don’t know how much patience I have today. I mean, it is my birthday.”

Laughing, you reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, birthday boy.”

The three of you entered the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast you and Thylane had made. Lando’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, and Thylane beamed with pride, practically bouncing in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Papa!” She exclaimed one last time, her voice full of love and excitement, her little arms squeezing him tightly.

With Lando’s arm around you, and Thylane hugging him with all her might, it was clear to you that this birthday morning could not have started off any sweeter.

Breakfast was a cozy, peaceful affair, the three of you wrapped in the simplicity of the morning. You and Lando chatted about plans for his birthday dinner later, throwing around ideas and laughing at each other’s jokes, while Thylane happily watched her favorite show on her iPad, humming along with the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins. It was a gentle scene, just the three of you? Sharing a quiet, joyful space as the morning sun spilled across the table.

Lando seemed perfectly content, caught up in the warmth of the moment. He had almost forgotten about the small gift waiting for him, tucked away in the kitchen—until you stood up, brushing a gentle hand across his shoulder.

“Wait here for a sec,” you said softly, a hint of excitement in your voice. “Tilly, come help me with something for Papa.”

Thylane’s face lit up as she hopped down from her chair, glancing at you with a secretive smile. She knew exactly what was coming next. Taking her hand, you led her back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to see Lando watching you both with a look of fond curiosity. He seemed completely oblivious to what was coming.

You reached into the cozy corner of the counter, pulling out the small, acrylic box you had hidden away with so much care. Inside, carefully wrapped in a soft cloth, was the positive pregnancy test. You knelt down, handing the box to Thylane, who held it carefully with wide, shining eyes.

“Okay, mon ange,” you whispered, giving her a gentle smile. “Give this to Papa, and make sure he opens it.”

She nodded, taking the box in her hands as if it were a treasure. Together, you walked back to the dining area, where Lando was watching you both with growing curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful grin.

Thylane held out the box, her excitement barely contained. Lando took the acrylic box, glancing from her to you, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close. “Go on,” you said, voice soft with anticipation. “Open it.”

“Open it, Papa! Open it!” She echoed, bouncing slightly on her toes, her face brimming with excitement.

Lando carefully untied the delicate ribbon that Thylane had helped you with that morning, his fingers moving slowly as if savoring the moment. The box felt light in his hands, and his expression shifted from curiosity to wonder as he lifted the lid, pulling away the cloth inside. The instant he saw the test, his eyes widened, and Lando looked up at you with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Is this…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was afraid he might shatter the moment. “Is this real? Is this for real?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own smile as you squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, love. It is real.” You watched his face light up as the reality of it washed over him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You added softly, feeling your own heart swell with happiness.

Lando did not hesitate. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off of your feet, twirling you in a gentle circle. His laugh was warm and filled with immense happiness so pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

“After all this time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotions as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’re really going to have another baby?” You nodded, laughing through your tears.

“I found out a few weeks ago, when you were in Mexico. I wanted to wait until today to tell you.” You placed a hand on his cheeks, gazing up at him with all the love you had been holding back for weeks. “It took everything in me not to tell you the moment I found out.”

He kissed you softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered. “Thank you for waiting, love. This…this is literally the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”

“Papa, did you see? It’s real!” She said, beaming and clapping her hand, while bouncing in happiness. “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister! I told Mama I want to call them baby peanut!”

“Baby peanut, huh?” Lando chuckled, bending down to lift Thylane into his arms, bringing her close to the two of you. Kissing her forehead, and looking at you with a grin. “I think that’s a perfect name, for now.”

“Papa, can we tell everyone? All our friends?” Thylane’s face lit up at the thought, and she looked back and forth between you and Lando.

“Soon, Tilly. But for now, let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Just between us.” He leaned down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That way, we can keep baby peanut all to ourselves a little longer.”

“Our little secret!” She nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she held her finger to her lips. “I’m really good at secrets, Papa. I won’t tell anyone!”

You all just stood there, basking in the warmth and happiness of the quiet moment, Lando had never felt a new kind of peace settle over him. This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of. A family, life filled with love and laughter, and now, another little one on the way.

Lando let Thylane down, letting her run towards the living room to play with her toys. He reached out, threading his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. “For this, for everything. You’ve given me the greatest gift of all.”

You squeezed his hand back, your own eyes shining with emotion. “I love you,” you murmured. “Happiest birthday, my love.”

As Lando held you closely, he realized that this was a happiness beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

[wsoc-gay]

World Cup Results II

Part 1

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: The beginning of Ona's Pregnancy

A/N: At least one more part to this of the pregnancy, might continue it after the baby too. But if anyone has a request please feel free to put it in my asks! I work much better and faster with ideas. I'm open to writing anything, smut, fluff, angst, kid fics, just let me know what you want to read!

You and Ona couldn’t be more excited on the drive home from the clinic. Neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces as your hands were held together and rested in your girlfriend’s lap. The entire ride home was full of loving sentiments exchanged to one another and plenty of blushes being spread across faces. 

Arriving home began your new train in following the advice from the doctor as closely as possible as well as going a bit overboard. Your girlfriend was starting to get annoyed with you, but even she would admit it was sweet how caring you were. Ona never opened her car door, never lifted anything too heavy, didn’t carry her bags to training, and you hardly let her do household chores. Every night for dinner you cooked a meal full of all the proper nutrients the doctors had advised eating and made sure to buy Ona only the best prenatal vitamins.

You both had agreed to not tell your teammates until you reached the 15-week mark, until then Ona didn’t have to alter her trainings and could still play in games. You had let the coaching staff and medical staff know as soon as you found out so they could monitor the Spaniard closer, but as of now you wanted to keep it on a need-to-know basis.  

It was around the 8-week mark, right after the first ultrasound, that some of your teammates began to catch on that something was happening. Any slight bump or tackle Ona took during training led to you sprinting to be by her side checking up on her. The brunette found it sweet but needed you to let up a little bit before they had to tell your team sooner than expected. 

Your worries weren’t without their reason, the chance of miscarriage was drastically higher through IVF and until Ona was outside her first trimester you had every right to worry. The days leading up to your 8-week scan were some of the most stressful days in your recent memory. You and Ona both were worried sick about having the scan show that you had lost your baby.

Ona was more stressed than you were due to her late-night research of her symptoms which often times resulted in her reading many horror stories of parents going to the first ultrasound and finding no heartbeat. The internet on top of her raging hormones led to many tearful nights where you tried to alleviate her fears but knew that the only thing to help the brunette’s anxiety would be seeing your baby. 

Thankfully one day after training the two of you were able to go to the clinic for the scan and see your baby for the first time. Tears immediately came to both of your eyes as the doctor told you your baby was not only alive, but healthy and thriving inside your girlfriend. You weren’t one to cry, but Ona made a comment that she thinks you’ll be a mess at every ultrasound, and you couldn’t help, but agree. There was something about seeing your baby on that screen that made everything seem more real. Therefore, the attentiveness only got worse.

Your English teammates were the first to confront you about your recent behavior. The pair was sat alone at a table during lunch when Lucy pulled you into a seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

You gave the older woman a confused look, “What the hell do you mean?”

Kiera slapped Lucy’s arm and muttered something you couldn’t quite make out under her breath. She looked over to you, “What Lucy meant to say,” She sent the brunette defender a glare, “Is that you’ve been acting a bit different during training recently.”

You truly hadn’t caught onto what they were referring to yet and raised an eyebrow at the pair, “Is this your guy’s subtle way of telling me I’ve been playing badly?”

Lucy slapped the back of your head and groaned, “No you idiot,” You slapped her right back, “Every time someone so much as touches Ona you act like she got shot.” Lucy slapped you again, “And you’re always watching her like a hawk,” You slapped her back.

Kiera grabbed her arm before she could retaliate, ��Would you two stop acting like children already.”

This wasn’t surprising behavior for you and the outside back, ever since you arrived at Barcelona the two of you grew much closer. Lucy helped you a lot to settle into the team and lifestyle of Spain, so overtime you grew a lot closer. Hence, why she was one of the first ones to notice a change in your behavior.

You suddenly realized what they were referring too and tried to hide it best you could, “I’m not acting any different, I always worry about her.”

Lucy gave you a dumbfounded look, “Yeah, but this is even pushing it for you,” She began to dramatically mimic you, “Oh my love, Ona, someone leaned on you during our full contact sport, and job, are you sure you’re going to survive this,” She leaned back with an arm laid against her forehead dramatically. 

You started slapping the older brunette again, “Oh shut up, I am not acting like that.”

Kiera sighed and pushed the two of you apart, “Would you two seriously stop it,” she looked at Lucy, “Luce stop being dramatic,” and then turned to face you, “You’re not acting like whatever the hell that display was, but you are acting extra protective over her.”

You ultimately made up some excuse about Ona having reinflamed her ankle and that you wanted to make sure she didn’t seriously injure it again. The pair of English women didn’t seem to believe your excuse, but let you go on your way.

On the ride home you had told you told Ona about the confrontation with Lucy and Kiera which she followed up by agreeing that you needed to tone down the protectiveness and worrying. She had begun to notice it too and believed it was sweet but agreed that it was about to get out of hand and was only a matter of time before more of your teammates began to catch on. 

---

It was a couple weeks later, around the 12-week mark, when Ona was quieter than usual after training. The car ride home was nearly silent, but you didn’t mention it and assumed she was just tired. As the pregnancy progressed Ona was starting to become increasingly more tired throughout the day, so you assumed that alongside the hard training today was the cause for her quietness. 

It wasn’t until a little later when you walked into the living room and found the Spaniard sitting on the couch with her head in her hands that you finally asked, “Is something wrong babe? Are you not feeling well?”

Her head remained in her hands as she softly muttered out, “I need to tell you something.”

You quickly sat down next to her with you hand on her thigh and concern lacing your voice, “Is it the baby? Do we need to call the doctor?”

She quickly sat back and leaned against the couch quickly alleviating your worries, “No, no the baby is fine. It’s just, es posible que accidentalmente le haya contado a Aitana sobre el bebé.” She had rushed out the last sentence in Spanish making it difficult for you to understand.

“Slower, por favor, you know my Spanish isn’t good when you talk fast.”

“I accidentally told Aitana about the baby today,” Feeling increasingly guilty she began to ramble, “I know we didn’t want to tell people about the baby this early, but she cornered me and you know I’m bad at keeping things to myself when someone asks and it just slipped out. I am so sorry mi amor.”

You chuckled at her rambling but let out a sigh of relief knowing this was the cause to Ona’s mood shift and not something more serious. Ona and Aitana had always been close, growing up playing for the academy together and since Ona returned to Barca they became even closer, so part of you was more surprised it took this long for her to find out. The outside back also was known for being bad at keeping secrets. Anytime someone would ask her about something she wasn’t supposed to talk about she would begin rambling making it obvious that she was hiding something and would usually end up saying it anyways.

You dropped back to lean against the couch and moved your hand from her knee onto her, hardly noticeable, bump, “Oh thank god, you had me worried, love.”

Ona covered your hand with hers, “There is nothing to worry about, I’m sorry she found out.”

The outside back when onto explain that Aitana had cornered her in the locker room after training when the rest of the team had already filed out. Instead of the usual comments which were about how protective you had become, Aitana had brought up how happy the two of you had seemed and that you were touchier than usual. She also had picked up on Ona subtly rubbing her stomach and your hand grazing over it after you would hug. She had straight up asked Ona if she was pregnant, and there was no escaping it from there, your girlfriend didn’t know how to lie.

“And you know I can’t lie, amor, she caught me so off guard and I must’ve taken too long to try and come up with an excuse, but she just pulled me into a hug saying how happy she was for us.”

You laughed again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull the smaller girl into your side, “I’m more surprised you lasted this long without everyone finding out.”

Ona rubbed a hand over her stomach instinctively, “As long as everyone keeps bringing it up to you instead of me, we should be okay, there’s only three weeks until I can’t play in matches anymore and then we’ll have to tell them.”

You looked down to her face as you smoke softly, “We can tell the team now if you want, you’re out of the first trimester, we just saw the baby, and everything is healthy, there’s no big reason to keep it from them anymore.”

“No, no, I like just keeping it to ourselves. Our own little bubble outside of football for now,” she leaned up to connect your lips softly and full of love.

---

Aitana did much better of a job keeping the secret to herself than you originally expected. The midfielder took her job as being the best friend and only teammate who knew very seriously. Anytime your teammates would begin on the topic when she was around, she would quickly shush their comments and would back any lie you made up to cover your secret. 

You and Ona were grateful for her efforts, but in a way, it only increased your other teammates suspicions. You also were now partially convinced much of the team actually already knew what was going on. As the last two weeks have gone by Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia had completely stopped asking anything about the topic. Originally Mapi had been one of the most vocal players about finding out what was going on, but now had completely stopped in her efforts. 

The truth was Ingrid, being the observant and caring teammate and friend that she was, had picked up on the same signals Aitana had. She obviously told Mapi about her suspicions who then confided in Alexia about them. Therefore, they came up with a plan to get the two of you to admit it to them. 

It was after the last game of the season before the Christmas break that Alexia decided the team would go to a club to celebrate before everyone left to their respective homes. You and Ona were going to see your family in England for the break, so you tried to get the two of you out of going by saying that you had to finish packing before your flight. Alexia wasn’t taking this as an answer and needed the both of you there to try and get an admittance from you, therefore, said it was required team bonding and you had to be there. The original plan was for Alexia and Mapi to call Ona out on not drinking and essentially for her to expose the pregnancy, but this plan was quickly stopped when the two of you entered the bar, keys in Ona’s hands, clearly having drove the two of you there. Anytime she was asked about a drink it was easy for her to say she was driving that night, plus she didn’t have to lie so there was no worries about her slipping up.

Alexia and Mapi were still trying to come up with a new plan when, surprisingly, you were the one to let it slip.

You were sitting at a table with many of your teammates while Ona was dancing with Aitana, Patri, Claudia, and Cata when a guy walked up behind Ona and placed his hands on her hips. You were on your feet and dragging the man off her before she had the chance to pull away.

The man turned around to be face to face with the hands that had just pulled him off the girl he was obviously interested in, “What the fuck do you want?”

You stood tall with your chest puffed and harshly spoke, “I want you to get your hands off my girlfriend.”

He scoffed, “Girlfriend? Sorry bud, I don’t think she’s the girlfriend type.”

You laughed, “Sorry, bud, but I’m the one she’s woken up next to for the past 8 years so I think I might know her a bit better than you.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t see you anywhere until after I came over so looks like I’ve beat you to it.”

“Oh, fuck no,” You tried to shove past him to get to Ona, but he moved to block your path.

“Why don’t you prove it to me then?” By now a decent amount of your teammates had noticed what was going on and began to come over to help deal with the man.

This sent you over the edge, it might’ve partially been at fault to the alcohol you had that night, and you being a little more than drunk already. But with one big push to his shoulder you announced, “I think the fact that she’s pregnant with my baby proves enough,” this left him shocked and gave you enough time to walk over to Ona with your back turned to the man and place a hand on the side of her face, “Are you alright, love?” Most of your teammates were now standing around you with their jaws hanging open clearly in shock.

The man clearly wasn’t over the embarrassment yet, as he pulled your shoulder back to face him and landed a hook across your cheek, you threw one right back getting him across the nose before security was dragging him away just as Lucy was doing the same to you. You looked back to find Ona and saw Alexia standing in front of her having clearly dragged her back and away from you and the man, likely assuming the altercation may escalate and after your confirmation didn’t want the Spaniard anywhere near the potential of a fight.

After clearing some things with the security guards, they let you stay and Lucy was dragging you over to the table many of your teammates had gone to sit at, the rest following close behind you. 

Ona slid into the booth next to you with a bag of ice in her hand, and reaching up with her free hand to grab your chin and turn your head to assess the damage, “Are you okay? You know I hate it when you do that.”

You were waving your arm dramatically, clearly still affected by the alcohol in your system, “He wanted to take you home I was protecting you both.”

She had a soft smile and pressed the bag of ice to your cheek, which you took over holding against your face, “I know you were, but you could’ve gotten hurt a lot worse.”

“I don’t care,” You leaned closer to whisper in her ear, clearly having forgotten you had already spilled your secret, “You’re carrying precious cargo, Baby Mami.”

Ona chuckled and patted your thigh, “No point in whispering now, amor, you already announced it.”

You turned to see the rest of your team giving you both dumbfounded and shocked looks, but Alexia, Aitana, Mapi, and Ingrid just smirking to themselves.

Alexia was the first to speak up from across the table, “So, you two are having a baby?”

You moved your free hand to rest on your girlfriend’s stomach and smiled as Ona replied, “Yep, baby y/l/n-Batlle is due in May. We were going to tell you all after the break, but tonight was my last match for the season, I’m about to be fifteen weeks, so no more matches.”

You were met with a lot of congratulations from your teammates when Lucy finally connected the dots and pointed at you, “So this is why you’ve been so unbearably protective over her recently.”

You defended yourself, “She’s carrying precious cargo, that’s the future best player in the world in there,” You patted her small bump, and the brunette covered your hand with hers.

This caused a smile to breakout on Ona’s face and laughs spread around the table. Ona had decided you had enough to drink, and she was exhausted having played 70 minutes today, so announced that you would be heading home. It took a few minutes before you were finally out the door, having to go through and hug every one of your teammates and being told congratulations by each one of them. 

The next day the two of you flew to England for the first half of break, you would spend Christmas with your family before coming back to Spain to spend the rest with Ona’s family who you saw more often. 

Since the secret was already out to your teammates and your families had already known for weeks while home in England you and Ona were able to tell a few of your England and former Arsenal teammates you were closest with. 

While in London and met up with Leah, Lia, Lotte, Alessia, Beth, and Viv for lunch to share the news with them. Leah was especially moved when you told her, having been much like a big sister to you during your time at Arsenal. She couldn’t get past how grown up you were and that now were having a baby. Alessia did a lot of claiming that this all happened because of her setting you two up. While you’ll go to your grave denying her you can’t help but thank her slightly.

---

Thanks for reading everyone, I hope you enjoyed! Again, please leave any requests or prompts in my asks!

[absurdthirst]

Washed Up {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.4k

Warnings: Violent injuries, loss of eye, amnesia, recovery, growing feelings, oral sex (male and receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, infidelity through memory loss, recovered memory, angst, separation, loss, pregnancy, deadly threats

Comments: When Dave washes up on the beach in front of your house, gravely injured and without any memory of who he is, you give him a save place to recover. And a glimpse of the man he wants to be.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dave looks up at Robert, one eye destroyed, and his arm hanging limply at his side. He's on his knees and he knows it's over. His killing spree. His life. It's all over. When he's pushed over the wall, he prays for a quick death and when his head hits the rocks, he feels at peace.

**** 

Death doesn't keep Dave in its grip for long. The man blinks, his body in agony as he expects to open his eyes and find himself in hell. That's where he should be. He should already be consumed by the flames but instead, he hears the waves lapping, birds flying overhead, and a woman's voice. It fades in and out and he closes his eyes again, the darkness overtaking his senses once again.

Living on the coast is beautiful and deadly. You had witnessed the destruction of the hurricane barreling along the coast through the latched shutters and listened to the howling winds as they clamored to get inside. Now, you are assessing the damage, luckier than most and cleaning up debris along the water that had been churned up and pushed ashore by the waves. Now calmer as they ripple on the sand. The clump of seaweed and debris you had been walking towards made you shout when you spotted an arm. 

“Oh my god!” Rushing over, you find that it’s a man. Immediately pushing your fingers against his throat, only to find a thready pulse. A heartbeat, even as weak as it is, is a heartbeat. “Sir! Sir!” You can’t risk moving him, but he’s on his back, opening an eye only to rear back when the eye socket is empty. A fresh wound from the damage to it. “Sir?” You cautiously open the other lid to find a blown pupil and you reach for your cell phone, praying the towers aren’t jammed or down from the storm.

****

Dave groans softly, his voice hoarse from swallowing so much sea water, and he can hear beeping. His eye flutters open, making him wince at the bright light above, and he doesn’t recognize where he is but when his sight focuses, he’s in a hospital room. “Relax.” He hears someone say and he obeys, unable to do anything but lay there, trying to piece together what happened but his mind is blank.

You shouldn’t be sitting in the chair beside this stranger’s bed, but you are. Hating that you have read his charts so many times that you know it by heart, you wonder how he survived the vicious attack. Lacerations and wounds, knife wounds, millimeters from having his spine severed. This man was lucky to be alive. You reach for his hand and squeeze gently, hoping that he can hear you. “Relax.” You murmur softly. “You’re safe.”

Dave slides into subconscious yet again, the voice of an angel lulling him to sleep. When he wakes again, the machines are still beeping but he is lucid. His eye opens and he tenses, remembering nothing but the voice. “Whe -where am I?” He chokes out, voice raspy and quiet from the ocean and lack of hydration.

“You’re in the hospital.” Sitting up from the little nap you had been taking, you immediately start checking his vitals on the monitor. “You’re safe.” You promise, knowing that above all else, that is what most people worry about when they wake up in unfamiliar surroundings. His head turns towards you, and you introduce yourself. “I’m the one that found you on my beach five days ago.”

“On the beach? What was I doing on the beach?” He rasps and you grab the cup of water, holding out the straw for him to take a sip. “That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.” You chuckle nervously and Dave swallows down the water to clear his throat. His head aches as he tries to remember why. “I don’t - I don’t remember.”

“I was afraid of that.” You sigh softly, pulling the cup away from his lips when he leans back. “You had some swelling on your brain and had considerable trauma.” You explain. “And you were hypothermic. It sounds like you have amnesia.”

Dave blinks as if trying to force himself to remember. “I don’t remember anything.” He chokes, “and I can’t see properly. Why can’t I see properly?” He panics slightly, his hand coming up to his face and his eye widens as he discovers the bandage.

“You have sustained severe injuries.” You reach for his hands and gently take hold of them so he doesn’t rip off the bandages. “I’m afraid that you are missing your eye. The bandage is to let the injury heal properly and when you are healed, you can be fitted with a prosthetic.”

Dave chokes at the news of his missing eye. “Is - is there anything else missing? Am I - can I walk?” He asks, his chest heaving as he starts to panic until he calms himself down without a thought. Like previous training kicks in and he has no clue why his heart monitor isn’t skyrocketing.

You frown and watch his heartbeat barely jump even though he had just had a moment of complete panic. “You have knife wounds, but there wasn’t any spinal damage that we could see.” You promise. “Your reflexes are still intact. You should still have all your motor functions.”

He nods, in shock, but his body feels completely calm. It’s unnerving to say the least. “Okay.” He knows he needs to adjust to having a missing eye but he is calm enough to know that he should be able to walk. To function. “Do you remember your name?” You ask and he frowns, trying to remember but nothing comes into his mind. He shakes his head, “no, ma’am.”

You are disappointed but know that is common with the amount of injuries he had. Especially since he had head injuries. “That’s going make it harder to get you home.” You admit softly. “The police have been here and you didn’t have any ID in your clothes and your prints aren’t coming up in the system.” You give him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ve been calling you John, for John Doe.”

Dave snorts, “John. What is your name?” He asks and you tell him, “I’m a nurse here. Good thing too since you washed up outside of my house.” Dave nods, “so what happens now? If no one knows who I am?”

You bite your lip and sigh. “You will probably be discharged tomorrow, now that you are awake. Since you don’t know who you are or where you live, I’ll bring you home with me.” You had thought about it after a conversation with the police and you can’t just leave this man alone and without anywhere to turn. It’s as if he doesn’t exist.

Dave shakes his head and winces at the pain, “you don’t - you shouldn’t have to - I can go to a hotel or something. I don’t have any money but I will figure it out.” He says like it makes sense when it doesn’t at all. “You’re coming home with me.” You insist and he sighs, “I’ll make it up to you. When I get my identity back.” He promises, knowing it’s an empty one unless that actually happens.

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it.” You murmur softly. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to rest some more?” People are surprised at how tired they are after waking up from a comma or being deeply unconscious.

“I want to sleep.” He confesses, “then food.” He smiles softly and you chuckle, “no problem. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You promise and watch as his eyes flutter closed. He falls asleep within moments and you go to get the doctor to tell them that the John Doe is awake. When Dave opens his eyes the next time, the machines are still beeping and he looks over to find you sitting in the chair. “How long have you been here?” He rasps, his voice thick with sleep.

“I haven’t left since I brought you in.” You confess, knowing that it makes you seem crazy, but you haven't been able to leave him alone. “I used the bathroom in your room to shower. I just-“ you shrug. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Dave is shocked but appreciative, his stomach twisting with something unknown. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” He murmurs and you stand, helping him sit up. “Are you hungry?” You ask and he nods, “I’ll get you a tray.” He watches you leave the room and he tries to remember anything about himself. Anything at all so he can discover his identity. He doesn’t want to be a burden on you.

The police have been informed that he’s awake, but that he has no memory of his life or his name. They don’t even bother to come out and tell you that he’s just non/existent in the system. Like he’s a ghost. You thank them and bring the tray back, setting it on the table and shelling it in front of him. “Here you go. Try not to eat too fast. I know you have to be hungry.”

Dave takes a bite, his hand shaking a little, his other hand in a cast from his wounds and he groans at the taste of the food. He tries to not eat too fast but he’s starving all of a sudden. “Do you- your partner won’t be upset with me coming home with you?”

You laugh quietly and shake your head. “No partner.” You tell him. “Just me. My dog, I’d had her for fourteen years, died last year. So it’s just me.” Your house was way too big for you, but you had bought it when the market was down and you loved living on the water. “I can put you downstairs for now until you are ready to climb stairs.”

Dave can’t argue. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. He doesn't have an ID, money, a home. He’s completely lost and your kindness is the only thing that’s saving him. “I can’t thank you enough. When I figure out who I am, I’ll pay you back.” He promises, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

You shake your head. “When you have the chance to help someone else, do it. That’s all the payment I need.” You promise quietly. “There are too many unfortunates in this world.”

Dave nods, knowing he will find a way to repay you when he can. He will make sure he does when he remembers who he is. For now, he has to focus on recovering and healing from a traumatic experience.

“So, I’ve got you a set of basic scrubs to wear when you’re released.” You murmur quietly, watching him eat. “Your things were ruined, we had to cut them off you, but I saved them.” You hope that his clothes might help him remember something. “After I get you home, I’ll pick you up some more things, comfortable and easy to put on.”

Dave nods, “I guess I need to remember who I am because I don’t have anything. No money. No job. No home. Shit. I’m so sorry I literally landed on your doorstep.” You shake your head and go to interrupt him but he continues, “I can’t ever repay you for your kindness.”

You can tell that will be a continuing theme for him, so you don’t protest. Instead, you smirk as he polishes off the cheeseburger. “Did you like that?” You ask. “Cheeseburger kind of man?”

“Hell yes.” He chuckles, “that I do remember. Kind of? Would be fucking hell if I was a vegan and didn’t know it.” He snorts, “guess I’ll find out when I remember.” He adds, then frowns, knowing it should be ‘if’ he remembers.

“At least you remember what being a vegan means.” You point out in amusement. He’s handsome, even with the scars and the bandage over his eye. His jaw is covered with stubble and you bite your lip. “Before you leave, they are going to want you to get up and shower. Do you want me to help you shave? You were clean shaven when I found you.”

Dave nods, “yes please. I would love that because this is too itchy.” You’re like a guardian angel and he doesn’t know how to say thank you for all of your help. The nurses come by later on and help him shower and he is a little embarrassed by his nudity when they help him undress. When he is dressed in scrubs, you sit him down by the sink and grab the razor, starting to shave his face. Dave can’t help but watch you as you try to concentrate on shaving him without making his skin. You are an angel in every sense of the word, ethereal in appearance, and he knows he’s staring, but he can’t help himself.

You glance at his eye, noticing that he’s watching you as you look back down at his foamy jaw. “What?” You chuckle. “I’m not going to slit your throat.” You wince the second it comes out of your mouth, because you know the injuries he’s received. Someone tried to kill him. “I mean, I’m careful.”

He continues watching you, “I can tell you’re a woman who likes attention to detail.” He says and tilts his head for you. “So are you from here? Or did you move here?” He asks, wanting to know more about you.

“Moved here about eight years ago.” You hum as you furrow your brow as you scrape the razor along his jaw. “Tiny little midwestern town, landlocked. So living right by the ocean was a dream for me.”

Dave hums, anxious to know more about you. He doesn’t know why he feels so drawn to you other than the fact that you are the woman that saved his life. “Did you move here with a partner? Or have you been alone this entire time?“ He can’t believe that someone like you would’ve been on their own for an extended period of time when you are so beautiful.

“Terminally single.” You joke. “When I first started my career, I was working all the time. Boyfriends didn’t really like that, so I just decided that I would be happy without someone.” You shrug like it doesn’t matter, but you have been feeling alone. “But I got to travel as a nurse for a while and earn great money. Buy my house, so if a man comes along….” You glance at him again and smirk. “He’s gotta be okay with me being independent.”

“Good for you.” Dave smiles as you wash off the razor before you continue. He doesn’t ask anymore questions, trying to search his own brain for answers. He wonders where he’s from. Does he have a family? He doesn’t know anything and it’s driving him crazy. He lets you shave his face and watches you with fascination .

The silence settles between you and instead of asking him questions, you start to hum a song. It’s nothing meaningful, just one of the new ones you had heard on the radio and got stuck in your head. Maybe you should play some music for him to see if it helps him figure out who he is.

Dave listens to you hum, not recognizing the song but he likes to listen to you. When you’re done, you clean off his face and he feels so much better. “I can’t explain it but I feel more like myself.” He says, looking in the mirror and trying to ignore the bandage over his eye.

“You look very handsome.” You praise softly, resisting the urge to caress his cheek. “The eyepatch we get you will make you look dashing and a bit dangerous. Like a spy.”

Dave winces, his head aching at your words and he hisses, clutching his head. “Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Yes. I - shit. Sorry.” He apologizes, “had a twinge of pain. A spy, huh? Maybe look sexy.” He flirts slightly, a smirk on his face when the pain fades.

You smile and nod. “I can see it.” You admit, even as you step back from him. “The doctor is going to come and see you one more time, then sign your discharge papers.” You explain. Being the nurse in charge of him had helped get him prioritized. “And I’m off for the rest of the week to help you get settled.”

Dave nods, “I really can’t thank you enough.” He says and reaches down to squeeze your hand. “Really, I owe you my life. Literally.” He murmurs and the doctor knocks on the door, “hey our John Doe. How you holding up?” He asks and Dave nods, “good. Thanks to an amazing nurse.”

Aaron is a good doctor and he smiles. “Well you have the best.” He compliments. “She has been dedicated to your recovery.” He glances over the chart and hums. “Despite your memory loss, everything else is looking good.” He had already gone through a memory test and he remembers the year and current events, just nothing about his life.

Dave nods, “that’s good. What are the chances of my memories coming back?” He asks and the doctor sighs, “it’s hard to say. These cases are difficult to assess. Your memories could come back over the next few days. Or it could take a while and something triggers it. Or they could never come back. Only time will tell.” Dave nods, a frown on his face but he’s accepting it. “Thanks Doctor.” He says and shakes the hand of the man who saved his life. “Of course. I’ll go write up your discharge papers now so you can get out of here. A change of scenery might help.” Aaron leaves the room and Dave sighs, “hopefully they come back in a few days so I can get out of your hair.”

Shaking your head, you move to start packing up the gym bag you had brought from your work locker. “Don’t worry about that.” You encourage him. “Best thing you can do is heal. And you don’t even need to come back to the hospital to have your bandages changed.”

Dave watches you pack up your things, his eye dropping down to your ass when you bend over and he swallows, knowing he can’t ogle you when you are his savior. “That’s good.” He nods, “I don’t like hospitals. At least I don’t think I do.”

“I honestly don’t know anyone who likes hospitals.” You admit with a small chuckle. “They are a necessary evil. But I will try to make sure you don’t have to go back.” You promise and gather the bag with his own things for him to go through when you get him settled. “Ready?”

He nods, knowing he doesn’t have anything but the scrubs on his body and his useless memory. “Yes ma’am.” He says and follows you out of the hospital room he woke up in. He should be nervous but his stomach isn’t twisting like he thought it would. He signs his papers and follows you down the hall and out of the ward. He hopes he gets his memories back. He wants to know who he is, but for now, he will follow you home.

Guiding ‘John’ to your car, you load him up and set out for your house. Talking as you drive, you show him the general area and point to a tower across the bay. “That had to be really dangerous during the storm.” You comment quietly. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be on top of that.”

Dave frowns, his head aching all of a sudden and he hisses. “You okay?” You ask and pull over on the side of the road. “Yeah. I’m good. I- shit. Just a headache. Must be from the head injury.” He reaches up to rub his head and you frown, waiting a few seconds for him to breathe properly.

You ask if he needs something, a drink or aspirin, but he insists he’s alright after another minute. You consider taking him back to the hospital but decide to continue on home. Pulling up into the driveway after a few more minutes, you park. “Home sweet home.”

Dave admires your home, “it’s gorgeous. No wonder you fell in love with it.” He says with a smile and you grin, “I know. I had to have it.” Dave struggles to open the door with his arm still in bandages and you rush around to help him. “I feel so useless.” He sighs, “I can’t wait to be functional again.”

“We will get you all healed up and better than ever in no time.” The loss of his eye will be a large adjustment but perhaps not having any memory will help him. He won’t be used to what he used to be able to do. “There’s a downstairs in-law suite with its own bathroom.” You explain. “It was my little library, but I’ll move the bed in there and make it nice and cozy for you.”

Dave doesn't know how he is ever going to repay your kindness nor does he understand how someone so beautiful can also be so sweet. It makes his spine tingle with suspicion even though he completely trusts you. "Thank you." He murmurs and you snort, "stop saying 'thank you', John." You scoff and playfully slap his upper arm. His hand immediately comes up to grab your wrist, a reflex he didn't even know he had. "I am - Jesus." He loosens his grip and lets go of you, confused by his reaction.

“Wow.” You aren’t scared, more like impressed at the speed that he caught your hand. You arch your brow playfully and hum. “Maybe you are a secret agent.” You tease quietly, wondering where he had come from. That's your biggest question. How he had come to be on your beach. Did he fall off a ship?

Dave snorts, “yeah. And an assassin.” He chuckles before he winces again. “Maybe we should take you back to the hospital.” Dave shakes his head, “no. No. I’ll be fine.” He promises, “maybe I just need to lay down for a bit.”

You guide him into the house and immediately show him to the couch. “Lay down here for now and I’ll get your bedroom set up properly.” You hadn’t wanted to leave him to set it up while he was unconscious. “Do you want a blanket? Let me get you a blanket, and some water.”

Dave feels like a burden already, something in him telling him he shouldn’t let you run around after him but he feels exhausted. He sits down on your sofa and rubs his knee with his hand as he watches you grab him some water and a blanket. “Thank you.” He murmurs, shifting to lean back on your sofa, relaxing into the cushions.

“You’re welcomed.” You spread the blanket over his body and set the water down on the coffee table. “Get some rest and let your body heal.” You advise softly. “You push yourself and it will take longer to recover.”

Sighing in reluctant agreement, Dave closes his lone eye and lets himself relax. Inside, he feels useless, like he should be better already. Like there's something telling him it's life or death if he doesn't recover. He falls asleep not long after you settle him and he doesn't realize how long he's been asleep until he opens his eye and it's dark outside. "How long have I been asleep?" He rasps, voice thick with slumber.

“A few hours.” You had tried to be quiet, but he had been dead to the world, sleeping through you disassembling the bed upstairs and bringing it down to rearrange the inlaw suite. “Are you hungry?”

He wasn't until you mentioned it but now, his stomach is rumbling. He nods and you smile, "good. Dinner is in the oven. Your bed is ready and I'll show you the bathroom. I'll change your bandages when you shower next." You say and Dave can't say 'thank you' again, you'll kill him, so he nods and offers you a soft smile.

You show him the house. Letting him know subtly that he can go wherever he wants. Finally bringing him to the bedroom you had set up for him to sleep in. “This is your area.” You tell him. “There’s a shower, but if you need help, you let me know. I am a nurse.”

He can’t tell you that you being a nurse means nothing when he feels his cock twitch when you bend over to grab a spare toothbrush for him from under the sink. It means nothing when he wants to push you into the counter and bury his face in your neck. He doesn’t know where the attraction is coming from, especially since he just got out of hospital but fuck, he wants you. Shoving that down, he follows out into the living room and he looks out of the window to the beach, the waves crashing on the sand. “It’s more peaceful than when I got washed up

“I’m surprised you remember that.” It’s a good sign, considering how injured he had been. “The storm was brutal, I watched it from between the shutter slats. I just hope you weren’t in it for long.”

“I remember some of it. Between unconscious and conscious. The crash of the waves. The harsh wind. I remember a moment that I thought I was in hell. I hoped I wasn’t. I don’t…I hope I don’t deserve hell. But that’s what I felt for a brief second. That I deserved it.” He frowns, letting out a thought that’s haunted him.

You frown, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Well, this isn’t hell and you don’t deserve that. No matter who you were before that beach.”

“This isn’t hell.” He agrees, knowing you’re his angel. The woman who saved him from death. “Thank you.” He reaches for your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before he realizes what he’s done. “I, uh, sorry.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand.

“That’s okay.” He looks embarrassed and that’s the last thing you want. “Don’t be afraid to express yourself. We are in close quarters and I’m not offended at all that my ‘John’ has the manners of a gentleman.” You giggle slightly and bat your lashes at him.

Dave likes hearing your giggle, a smile on his face and he chuckles, “John. Definitely don’t think that’s my real name. It’s - it doesn’t feel like it’s my name, you know?” He tilts his head as he looks up at you.

“Yeah, you don’t look like a John, if that makes sense. But, do you want to pick out a name?” Maybe picking his own name will jog his memory. It couldn’t hurt to try. “Austin, Aaron, Anthony?”

Dave wrinkles his nose but his eyebrows raise at Anthony. “Anthony feels familiar.” He confesses, “but doesn’t feel…right. If that makes sense.” He tilts his head at you, “keep guessing.” He demands softly, “I’ll see if anything feels better.”

“Brad, Bryan, Boyd.” He shakes his head and you move on to the ‘C’ names. “Chris. Chandler- I threw that in because of Friends.” You joke. “Chad- no, no, you’re too handsome to be a Chad.” He wrinkles his nose and you grin at how offended he looks. Maybe because of the stereotype around the name or he just finds it offensive. “David? Daniel, and…..”

Dave frowns, thinking about the names, his stomach twisting and he looks up at you. “David feels…right.” He murmurs, his head aching a little and he wonders if that’s his name or if it’s totally wrong. “Shit.” He hisses, reaching up to rub his head.

“Is your head hurting again?” You frown and walk over to him, looking into his eyes. “Maybe- maybe it’s possible that your head hurts when you remember something.” You pose. “I need to do some reading on it.”

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to gather himself. “Yeah. Maybe. It - I feel a twinge in my belly when it happens. Maybe I am remembering something.” He frowns, opening his eye to look up at you. “Or maybe I need a painkiller.” He jokes, reaching for your hand to squeeze it.

“A painkiller can be provided.” You wink at him. “We won’t push you too hard, just whatever comes will come.” You squeeze his hand back and the timer in the kitchen goes off. “There’s dinner.”

Dave watches you make your way into the kitchen and he groans as he stands up. His arm still bandaged, he makes his way into the kitchen just as you are plating up dinner. “Best to have food with the pill. These are pretty strong.” You say and he nods, taking a seat. You hand him the pill and set a glass of water down, he swallows it dry without a thought. “Right then.” You snort and turn back to the counter to grab the plates. “This looks delicious.” He declares, “are you sure you’re not secretly married?” He teases, picking up his fork.

You laugh, shrugging. “Maybe I am. But then again, where are all the dirty socks?” You watch as he takes a bite and groans. It has to be better than hospital food and you try not to clench at the low growl of pleasure. He’s hurt, it’s so wrong to find him attractive and want him right now. “My dad used to leave his socks everywhere.” You explain. “Drove my mom crazy.”

With a snort, Dave sets his fork down, “I can’t remember shit but even I know that the way to piss a woman off is to leave socks and underwear on the floor.” He chuckles and takes a sip of water. “You’re a great cook.” He compliments you, picking up his fork after setting his glass down. “It’s a crime you aren’t married.” He murmurs, looking at you from across the table. He means it. Even if he barely knows you.

“Are you auditioning?” You flirt playfully, smirking at him. “I might snore like a banshee or have a really weird third boob that I hide.” You joke, taking a bite of his own meal. “I find it harder to believe that you aren’t married. Maybe you are. Maybe you’re divorced or hell, you might be celibate.”

Dave chuckles, “I don’t think a monk would lose an eye and nearly get murdered.” He raises his eyebrow before he sighs, knowing that the answers to that mystery aren’t available to him right now. He wants to know what happened. “I wasn’t wearing a ring when you found me, was I?” He asks, wondering if you noticed.

“No.” You shake your head, remembering to check him for a medical bracelet and you had looked at his hand. “No rings, necklaces or bracelets.” You shrug. “So probably not married.”

Dave nods, a little relieved by that revelation. He’d feel guilty for finding you so attractive if he was married. “Good. That’s…good to know.” He says, his eye focusing on you until you fluster and he continues eating.

The two of you continue to talk, he asks you a lot of questions about your life since he doesn’t remember his own and you fill him in. Enjoying the way he laughs and relaxes as he cleans his plate. “Do you want more?”

He bites his lip, knowing he shouldn’t eat too much but he is still hungry. He offers you a slightly shy nod and you chuckle, grabbing his plate to give him a second serving of food. “You really are a good cook.” He tells you as you set his plate down.

“Well then at least you don’t have to worry about starving.” You reach out and touch the back of his neck, the bandages covering the staples and you hum. “Tomorrow, we’ll change these again. But you are healing nicely.”

“I- hopefully I can remember who I am and I’ll be out of your hair. I’m sure you’ll be sick of me before too long.” He says, trying to ignore the way he shivers slightly at your touch.

“You seem anxious to get rid of me.” You wonder if you had been too pushy, if he would rather be somewhere else. “Hopefully I don’t drive you crazy.”

Dave snorts, knowing you are going to drive him crazy but not in the way you think. “No. No. I just- you’ve been so kind. I don’t want to be a burden. Well, a bigger burden.” He gestures to his eye, “you’re my saving grace.” He murmurs.

“Don’t put me up on a pedestal.” You shake your head. “I just want you to be safe and secure while you recover who you are or decide what you would do.” You bite your lip. “So often I can’t help someone beyond the hospital but this time, I can.”

Dave smiles softly, “it’s not a pedestal. It’s the truth but I understand. No more compliments.” He teases with a smirk, “no more thanks.” He winks and looks back at his plate, digging back in. He is torn on finding out who he is and never finding out so he can stay with you. 

****

It’s been a week since Dave has been in your home. He spends most of his days trying to see if he can recover his memory. Watching movies, listening to music. Anything that will trigger a memory. “Not a heavy metal fan?” You ask after he turns the volume down on your speaker. He shakes his head, “nope. Apparently not.” He chuckles. “Nothing yet. Maybe my memory is just…gone.”

“It’s possible.” You won’t sugar coat it, it is a possibility. “Then you will just need to figure out who you want to be.” Dave frowns slightly and scratches his head. He hasn’t let you help him too much, but you know he’s been struggling to help himself. He is the stubborn kind, for sure.

He sighs, “I know. I know. It’s - shit - I wanna know who I am because - because I want to know where I came from. What happened to me. So many fucking answers and I don’t know them because my goddamn brain won’t work.” He huffs, hitting his forehead. You open your mouth to protest his self pity when there’s a loud bang outside. Dave doesn’t hesitate, he shoves you down to the rug, covering your body with his. His heart beat in his ears is steady but loud as he raises his head to assess the situation.

You gasp when John - David, pushes you down to the floor and protects you. Never actually witnessing something like that before. Your heart races as he curls around you, waiting a moment before he is looking up. Searching the area for any danger before he even shifts slightly off of you. “I- I think it was a shutter.” You murmur quietly. “I didn’t secure all of them.”

Dave scrambles off of you, “shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I don’t know why I did that.” He confesses, his arm aching from the quick moments as he shifts away from you. “I don’t - the bang made me react.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head and lean over to check him. “Did you open any stitches? Anything hurting?” You ask, concerned more about his well being than him throwing you to the ground.

He shakes his head, "I don't feel anything hurting." He murmurs, still confused about his reaction. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks, wanting to be sure he didn't harm you at all.

“No.” You promise immediately. “I have to admit that it was pretty sexy, protective.” You bite your lip and fluster slightly. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I promise.”

He nods, glad that he didn't hurt you and his cock twitches at you saying it was sexy. "You liked it?" He asks, a smirk on his face as he watches you shift onto your knees. He shouldn't be this cocky when he has one eye, a bandaged up arm, and no memory of who he is, but something inside of him seems to jump out, a confident man who knows what he wants.

“I didn’t mind it.” You admit, watching as he adapts the posture of a man who is very self confident and it’s making him even more attractive. “I know you are recovering, but you are capable and sexy.”

Dave likes hearing that from you and he shouldn't, especially when he hasn't got a clue who he is or where he comes from, but fuck, he likes the way you are looking at him. He shifts onto his knees in front of you. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and his eye searches your face until he leans in to softly kiss you.

You shouldn’t kiss him, not when you know that he’s missing key parts of himself, his history. You can’t help yourself though. It’s like you are unable to pull back, leaning into the kiss and you feel like this is meant to be. Like he was supposed to be found on your beach by you. It’s fate. You sigh softly when his lips touch yours and you lay your hand on his shoulder.

Dave presses his lips a little harder against yours, fueled by the simmering lust he's felt for you and the desire to feel something beyond the pity and frustration that his missing mind has been causing. His hand cups the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he slides his tongue against your lower lip, requesting access.

Your sigh turns into a moan, opening up and feeling the slide of his tongue against yours. Stomach clenching and cunt fluttering in pleasure when he dives into you, taking what you offer. He might not know who he is, but he knows how to kiss.

His other hand finds your ass, squeezing as he drags you closer to him. His cock is half hard in the pants you bought for him and he is taken over by this need for you. It's been lingering - some unspoken thing between you - and he desperately wants you. To show you how much he appreciates you, wants you.

You shouldn’t let him. You feel almost as if you are taking advantage but you know he wants this too. “You don’t have to.” You murmur softly, pulling back for just a moment so he knows that it’s not that he has to please you to stay.

He snorts, nudging his nose against yours, “I know I don’t have to. I want to. If you want to.” He adds, pulling back so he can look at you. “If you want to.” He repeats, his hand shifting away from your ass to give you a moment to think about it. You hesitate, exhaling shakily, and he doesn’t push, shifting away from you. “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that. Made you uncomfortable.”

“No, I want to.” You confess, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “I’ve been attracted to you since the beginning. I just don’t want to hurt you. You’re still healing.”

Dave shakes his head, shifting back closer to you. “I want you. Don’t care about my arm. I’m healing because of you. I want you.” He murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours. His hand finding your waist again.

You slide your hand up his shoulder into the longer locks of his hair now that it is growing out. Over the bandage and you are careful not to tug too hard as you slide your tongue into his mouth this time.

Dave groans into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours, and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, dragging you closer. “Let me - sofa.” He grunts, pulling away from your mouth reluctantly and he shifts to stand up. He sits down on the sofa and pats his lap, wanting you to sit down on top of him.

You don’t stand, you crawl over to where he is, watching that one eye darken with lust. The twitching of the soft pants makes your eyes widen in mischief. “You don’t remember your last blowjob, do you?” You moan out, reaching the sofa and sliding your hands up his thighs.

He shakes his head, his eye widening as you look up at him and he swallows harshly. “You don’t - most women don’t like doing that and you - you’ve already done so much for me.” He groans out the last word as you slide your hand across his lap to squeeze him through his pants.

“You remember that women don’t like to suck a cock?” You hum, enjoying the thick feel of him. You had helped strip him down and have helped him around the house, but now you can enjoy this. “This woman wants to suck your cock. But I don’t want you to cum right away.”

Dave gulps, nodding as you hook your fingers in his sweats and he lifts his ass so you can pull them down enough so his cock is freed, pre cum already pooling on the tip. He can’t deny that he hasn’t imagined this. You on your knees for him. “I won’t.” He promises, his throat suddenly dry.

You decide that you will show him how good it can be. Kissing up his thigh and nibbling on the sensitive flesh. His stitches from the leg wounds have dissolved and you feel him jump when you kiss the scar of newly mended skin left behind. Biting his hip before you drag your tongue up the thick length of his shaft and over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses as you take his cock into your mouth. His eye watches you as you wrap your lips around the head and start to take him deeper, a groan escaping his lips. “You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek.

You glance up at him and when back down to his cock. He’s pulsing in your mouth and you take him a bit deeper. Wanting to make this good for him as you remind him of what a blow job feels like.

He slides his hand lower to your jaw, feeling it move as you bob your head on his length. He groans when you swallow around him as you take him down your throat. “Jesus.” He hisses when you reach down to roll his balls in your fingers. “Baby. Baby. I don’t - I don’t think I’m gonna last long.” He warns you, tapping on your cheek.

His tap on your cheek is sharp, making you huff slightly instead of moan as you pull back. “Do you want to have me ride you right here?” You ask softly, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping him gently.

He nods, a little lost in the feel of you, overwhelmed by your kindness, your beauty. He reaches for you, gripping the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

You let him take charge. Starting to strip you, although you unhook your bra when your shirt is on the floor. Drawing it down to toss aside and reveal your tits to him.

“Fuck. You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your tit and he squeezes, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “Do we need a condom?” He asks, wanting to be safe even if his memory is shot.

You know all the tests the hospital ran and they even screened him for STIs. “No.” You promise him breathlessly. “I’m on birth control.” You tilt your head to give him more access and push your chest into his hand.

His cock twitches and he slides his hand down to your leggings. “Take these off. I want to see all of you.” He demands, feeling needy for you after wanting you since he arrived in your home. “Please.” He adds, not afraid to beg a little.

You stand up and hook your fingers under your leggings to push them down. Smirking when you show David that you aren’t wearing any panties. “Never wear them.” You admit when he looks shocked.

“Dirty girl.” He smirks after he recovers, groaning at the sight of your curls at the apex of your thighs. He grips his cock, pumping himself a few times and he tilts his head, “come sit on my cock baby. Wanna watch you cum.” He demands, gaining his confidence back.

You bite your lip, stepping forward to straddle his hips. You caress his chest and reach down to take his cock in your own hand. “Fuck, baby.” You moan when he twitches in your hand. “You are so fucking thick, I can’t want to have you inside me.”

He gulps when you start to lower yourself onto his cock, engulfing him in a hot wetness that has his chest heaving. “Shit.” He hisses, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast as you sink down onto him. “So fucking beautiful.” He rasps, his eyes watching you take him.

Moaning, you feel beautiful. David has a way of making you feel like you are gorgeous. From the way he talks to you, to the way his gaze heats up when he is watching, you feel sexy. “Fuck, Dave.” You moan softly, shortening the name he had picked for himself.

Your moan of his new name has him twitching inside of you. It sounds so real, so good. It sounds perfect. His hand squeezes your tit, watching you acclimate to his girth until you’re comfortable enough to start moving on top of him. “That’s it baby, take what you want.” He orders, groaning when you lift up and sink back down again.

You don’t ride him fast, knowing that despite what he’s said, he’s still injured. You could make him reopen the stitches and you don’t want that. Slowly lifting off his cock and groaning when you let him fill you again. Sedately riding him as you press your lips to his.

He groans into your mouth, letting you ride him slowly and he caresses every inch of skin he can with one hand. His lips kissing along your neck and he hisses when you turn your head to kiss him again. His tongue slides against yours, his cock twitching inside of you when you clench around him.

Your moans are breathy and light as he twitches inside you. Breathed into his mouth while you kiss him back. Gorging yourself on the feeling of his tongue taking control and making you wetter and wetter every time he flicks his tongue against yours.

He’s in no rush for this to be over and he’s glad that he seems to have stamina. He’s not rushing to cum inside of you. His hand trails down your stomach, finding your clit, and he groans when he feels how wet you are. Slicking up his fingers, he rubs your clit slowly, not wanting you to cum just yet but wanting to hear you moan.

Whoever he was in a past life, David can make a woman feel amazing. Your back arches slightly when he starts to rub your clit. Pushing your tits up and you moan his name again. He's amazing and you fall even more for your mysterious man.

When you arch your back, Dave ducks his head down to take your nipple into his mouth. He sucks and bites while his hand continues to rub your clit. His eyes closed as he breathes you in, enjoying how you sound, how you smell.

It's easy to slip into the fantasy that Dave is yours. That he always has been and this is just a lazy day that you are making the most of. You whine when his teeth scrape over the sensitive bud of your breast and you breathe out an order. "More." You beg softly, gently pulling his hair again, taking care of the bandage that should be able to be removed in another week or so.

He doesn’t deny you, sucking harder on your nipple and he groans when you tug harder on his hair that isn’t covered by the bandage. He can feel your walls fluttering around his cock and he hisses when you grip him inside of you. “You’re so tight.” He murmurs into your skin as he switches to your other breast.

"You're thick." You moan softly, closing your eyes as he continues to ravish your breasts and you grind down on his cock. It's so perfectly erotic, building you up to a wonderful tension in your belly. "Fuck, Dave, I'm going to cum." You warn him, knowing that you are close to cumming.

He groans, his stomach clenching at the familiarity of the name falling from your lips and it feels so right. His name, you sitting on his cock, being here. It feels like it’s meant to be. “Do it.” He pleads, rubbing your clit a little faster as you rock on top of him. “Cum for me.” He begs against your breast.

​​He makes it so easy for you to cum, rubbing your clit like he knows your body inside and out. Your stomach clenches and you curl your toes when your body locks up in pleasure. Crying out again as your cunt soaks his cock with your orgasm.

Dave hisses against your skin as you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. I- you feel so good.” He grunts, his fingers working your clit for a little bit longer until he pulls his hand away and grabs your hip, rocking you on his cock. “Fuck. So pretty. So good to me. Taking me so well.” He grunts, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into you.

When he takes over, all you can do is hold on. You feel how assertive he used the strength he has that has been regaining. Moaning as he works you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulation from the way his cock is hitting inside you. Making you feel like you’re going to cum again.

Dave grunts, jaw clenched as he leans back against the sofa, trying to work you through your orgasm while seeking his own. He thrusts up into you a half dozen more times before it’s too much. His cock twitches as he paints your walls with his hot seed, groaning when he feels you clamp down on his cock again, your hands gripping the sofa behind his head. “Oh my God.” You squeal as you grip him and he pants, head tilting back and eye closing at how good he feels.

You collapse against his chest and kiss along his shoulder as you catch your breath. Giggling quietly from the sheer euphoria of the orgasms and enjoying the slightly salty taste of his damp skin. “Well, we got our workout today.” You tease.

Dave chuckles, cupping your cheek to bring your face to his. His lips pressing against yours while he stares to soften inside of you. “And worked up an appetite. Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing you did most of the work to get both of you off. “I can make you something.” He nudges his nose against yours while his hand slides down to caress your back.

Since he has been here, Dave has started helping you, however he can. He’s a surprisingly good cook and has made several meals for you. “If you’re hungry.” You press your lips to his again. “I can eat.”

He nods, his fingers caressing your spine. “I make a mean sandwich.” He teases, kissing along your jaw. “Go clean up. I’ll get the sandwiches made.” He winks and you shift off of his cock. He will clean himself up in your downstairs bathroom. He shifts to stand up from the sofa, wincing slightly at the ache in his shoulder. He’s pushed himself but he doesn’t care. It was worth it.

**** 

The next two weeks is just a constant cycle of eating and fucking. It’s like the two of you cannot get enough of each other. There are tender moments between the more amorous ones, like the time you had your phone playing music and Dave wanted to dance with you, right there in the kitchen. His staples are removed, his stitches dissolved and he has a temporary prosthetic eye in place underneath the eye patch. You are completely in love with him and it’s obvious he feels the same way, although no words are spoken. “Hey babe, I’m home!” You call out, dropping your bags at the door and looking around for Dave.

Dave puts the finishing touches on the piece he’s been working on for a while. His therapist advised that he paint or draw, see if he can recall his memories while also doing some physio with his hand and arm. He has paint on his shirt but he’s proud of his work. He looks up from the kitchen table and stands, making his way out to help you with your bags with his good arm. “Hey sweetheart. Let me help.” He insists and carries the bags he can manage into the kitchen for you.

“Hey.” You drop a kiss on his cheek and smile at the way he just insists on helping. “How was your day?” You had stopped by and picked up the grocery order on the way home and now it’s just you and him for the weekend. “Get some painting done?”

Dave nods, “yes. I- I want you to see it.” He says, “I painted it…for you.” He confesses, knowing he isn’t the most skilled artist but something seemed to have ignited within him to paint something good enough to give you. He guides you over to the table where the art is still drying and turns to you, “it’s for you. How I- how I feel about you.”

It's beautiful. Not something you would see hung on a national museum's wall, but one that you know is completely from the heart. It's a painting of you. You bite your lip, eyes misting up as you look at him. "I- this is gorgeous." You murmur breathlessly, reaching out and cupping his cheek. "I don't know what is going to happen, but I feel something- a lot - for you." You whisper. "Dave Doe, I fell in love with you." You smile at the use of the generic last name, but your heart knows him.

Dave chuckles and leans in, gripping your waist to pull you closer. “I love you.” He murmurs, feeling like the words are a little hard to get out even though it’s what he feels. Something within him wants him to hold back his emotions, shut them down, but he shakes that off. “I don’t care what happens. If I don’t get my memories back…I have you.” He reassures you, “and you have me.”

“I want you to stay.” You admit softly. “Memories, no memories, I love you.” You promise, aware that you have to seem crazy to some, but you know this man is the man you are supposed to love. Leaning in, you kiss him softly. “I want to make love with you.” Since that first time, you had slept in the downstairs bed with him until he was climbing the stairs to your bedroom. He had never gone back to the in-law suite.

Dave nods, nudging his nose against yours. His hand finds yours as he ignores the groceries and guides you upstairs, his gait is better, more confident. He feels powerful despite his recent limitations. Opening the door to your bedroom, he turns and grabs your waist, pressing his lips to yours without another second to waste.

You are addicted to Dave. Reaching for the hem of his pullover shirt, you lift it over his head and quickly kiss him again. “I love you.” You promise softly, caressing the scars, older ones sprinkled in with the new ones that tell you he had had a dangerous life.

He grabs the hem of your dress, lifting it over your head to expose your underwear and he loves how beautiful you are, how relaxed you are in his presence. Something he knows deep down wasn’t normal with his previous life. He walks you backwards towards your bed, his hands sliding up your back to unclasp your bra and he drags it down your arms to expose your tits. “I want to taste you, baby.” He confesses, throwing your bra across the room as he gently pushes on your chest to get you to lay down.

You moan softly, nodding as you spread your thighs apart. Settling against the pillows and watching as he starts to undress. “You are so sexy, Dave.” You compliment him a lot, but you never lie to him. You find him wildly attractive.

He flusters slightly at your compliment, still unsure of himself after losing his eye and the scars that cover his skin. He shrugs off his shirt and pushes down his jeans along with his boxers to expose his body to you. He groans when you squeeze your breast, your eyes watching him as he kneels on the bed. His hands push under your ass, tilting your hips as he leans in to slide his tongue along your folds.

Dave doesn’t use his mouth often, preferring his hands on you, but when it does - it’s magical. Your gasp of his name echoes around the room and your hips would buck up if he didn’t have a grip on them. Your hands slide down to your tits, palming them. “Fuck baby, fuck, I love you. Love that tongue, love your cock, love everything about you.”

His tongue flicks over your clit and he groans when your hand lets go of your breast and your fingers slide into his hair. He loves when you pull on his hair. He grinds into the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. His fingers squeezing your ass as he tilts your hips higher. His tongue slides down to push into your weeping cunt, his nose pressing against your clit.

Dave turns ravenous, licking into you like a snack cup, making you whimper while he works you over. Your chest heaves and body shakes as his tongue curls deep inside you and the pressure against your clit is increasing. Looking down, you watch him, clenching around his tongue when his eye meets your gaze.

Dave groans, his tongue pushing deep inside of you. "That's it, baby." He murmurs when he pulls away for a second, his hand sliding from under you to pull your folds apart with his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit and his fingers slide down to push two thick digits inside of you.

“Ohhhh fuck, Dave.” You moan, closing your eyes in pleasure. Your hips roll down and you love how thick his fingers are. They are almost as thick as his cock, but not quite enough. Your walls clench down around his digits and he groans against your clit.

He loves the way you moan his name. It might not be his actual name but it feels so right. He groans and curls his fingers deeper, wanting to feel you clamp down on his fingers. He wants to feel you cum.

He’s not a selfish man, Dave will spend hours between your thighs if it’s what you need to cum. You love that about him. “Oh fuck, baby.” You whimper. “You are so fucking good, I love that tongue.”

Your heels dig into his shoulders but he loves it. He hisses into your cunt and he groans when you tug on his hair again. He sucks on your clit a little harder, fingers pumping in and out of your weeping pussy. He wants to beg you to cum for him but he doesn't want to pull away from your clit.

“You’re so good.” You whine, rocking your hips up. “So good, so good!” You cry out. “Oh god, Dave!” You scream out, body locking up and jerking in pleasure as your orgasm slams through you. “Oh shit! Oh shit!”

He fucking loves when you cum. His eyes closing as you clamp down on his digits. He hums around your clit, working you through it as you soak his fingers. His other hand grips your hips to keep you still so he can make sure you're boneless on the bed before he fucks you.

You love how fucking thorough he is. Love how he just gives you pleasure until you are spent, demands it of you. Making you whimper and moan some more before he decides you’ve had night and his tongue slows down and his fingers start to slowly pull out.

Dave withdraws his fingers, kissing your mound before he turns his head to kiss along your thigh. "So good, baby." He murmurs, shifting to kneel between your legs, his damp fingers wrapping around his cock to pump himself as he watches you recover from your orgasm.

“I need you inside me, baby.” You beg, sliding a foot along his thigh, ready to prop it up onto his hip so he can sink deep inside your cunt. “Fuck, you are so goddamn handsome and mine.” You purr possessively.

He nods, shifting closer, and he looks down at you, a soft smile on his face as you call him yours. "Yours. Like you're mine." He murmurs, notching his cock at your entrance, and he pushes inside of you with a groan. "All mine." He grunts, shifting to hover over you on his elbows, and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

You don’t rush him, feeling the emotional weight of the moment as you wrap your arms around him. Giving into the kiss and closing your eyes while your feet hook behind his back. “All yours, baby.” You promise when he is pulling back to smile at you. “Forever.”

He groans at the news, loving the way you take him, accept him. All of him. Even the missing pieces. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw when he starts to move inside of you. Slow. He’s in no rush. He wants to savor this moment with you; the emotional climax before you reach the physical one.

“I love you too.” You whisper, giving him a sincere promise. You don’t care what his background is or what he’s done in his forgotten past. You love him. Even the strangely dark parts of him that he can’t explain.

He rocks into you, his hand finding yours to grip it against the pillow your head is resting on. His fingers tangle with yours while he kisses along your neck. No more words are exchanged as he rocks into you, breathing mingling as his lips hover over yours.

You pant quietly into his mouth, absorbing every thrust of his hips and taking him with an eagerness that cannot even be explained. It’s as if this is your wedding night and you are consummating your vows.

Dave groans, his tongue tangling with yours when he leans in to kiss you. He shifts his weight over to his other side so his free hand can caress you, squeezing your breast.

You moan his name into his mouth, arching up into Dave's touch. Rolling your hips with his steady pace and loving how this has turned into love making. Expressing yourselves with your bodies.

Your legs lift higher on his hips and he groans, pressing his lips against yours over and over. His fingers pinching your nipple but not too rough, just enough to stimulate you. He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, sucking on the skin above your pounding pulse.

"Dave, I love you." You moan, stroking his back and encouraging him with your moans. "I love you so much. So- fuck, so happy you washed up on my beach. Came into my life."

He smiles against your skin at your words, "me too. Fucking - fucking lucky to wash up on your shore. You saved me. My angel. My gorgeous angel." He murmurs, shifting his hand up to your cheek, caressing it before he leans in to kiss you again. "Want you to cum for me, baby." He murmurs, his hand letting go of your cheek and he snakes it between you to rub your clit.

“Oh fuck.” Dave has learned your body, knowing exactly what you need to cum and he’s a master at making that happen. “I love you.” You moan, pressing your lips to his desperately as you fall over the edge, clenching down around his cock.

Dave hisses into your mouth when you clamp down on his cock. He loves it. He loves you. He groans and works you through it, thrusting a half dozen more times until the heaviness of the moment hits and he falls over the edge with a groan of your name. His hot seed paints your walls and he squeezes your hand, your name a gasp from his lips.

The aftermath is always so beautiful, Dave collapsing against your body and panting as he tries to recover. You stroke his back, boneless beneath him. “Fuck, you are so incredible.” You moan softly.

He kisses along your neck, "no. You are. A fucking angel. I love you." He rasps, closing his eyes as he breathes you in and begins to soften inside of you.

You lay there, basking in the warmth of his affection and sigh. Everything is perfect and you hope that it never changes. “I ordered dinner before I got home.” You tell him quietly. “It should be here soon.”

“I amend what I said. You’re a fucking goddess.” He murmurs, pulling out of you and he kisses down your body. Flicking his tongue over your nipples, he continues his journey down your body until he’s settled between your legs again. “Reckon I can make you cum again before the food arrives?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he pushes your thighs further apart. You nod and moan when he leans in to slide his tongue through your creamy folds. Your moan makes him smile and he knows this is where he belongs. 

**** 

Dave kisses your neck as you stand at the stove, making pancakes for breakfast, and the coffee is brewing. “Have I told you how fucking sexy you are?” He asks, sliding his hands along your hips. “Dave.” You giggle, trying to focus on flipping the pancakes when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.” Dave kisses your neck and smacks your ass before he makes his way through the house to the front door. He opens it with a smile still lingering on his face. “Dave?” A woman gasps and he frowns, “uh, kinda. Do I know you?” He asks and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. “I’m your wife.”

Dave frowns, pain slicing through his head as his knees buckle from the flood of memories slam through him. His entire life flashing back into place and he groans, feeling her rush forward to touch his shoulder and he remembers her name. “C-Carol.” 

You gasp, dropping the spatula from the doorway to the kitchen when you hear the strange woman announce that she is his wife. Not wanting to believe that it could be true.

Dave feels sick. The memories of the things he’s done. The people he’s killed. The coldness in his veins. Carol knows about it all and he knows you’d hate him if you knew his background. He also remembers Molly and Alice. His girls. He can’t abandon them. His heart is torn between wanting you and pushing you away. You’d be better off without him. You deserve better. He straightens his back just as you walk in and Carol looks between you, immediately realizing what’s happened from the look on your face. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. I couldn’t get hold of Resnik or the team to track you down. I’ve been trying to find you.” Carol chokes, “the girls…we thought you were dead.”

"He- he had amnesia." You choke out, looking back and forth between the pretty woman - his wife - and Dave. Your Dave was not free, he has a wife - maybe even kids. The idea makes you sick to your stomach and you wish you had been stronger to resist the attraction between you. "He- he washed up on the beach in front of the house. Badly injured." You explain, looking down at the spatula dumbly.

Dave wants to pull you into his arms, kiss you and tell you it’s gonna be okay but he’s a bad man. He’s a murderer and he’s married with kids. He can’t stay with you. He has to go home and back to his old life. He swallows harshly, “I need to go home.” He chokes out, hating how your face immediately scrunches up and your eyes start to water. “He needs to come home to his daughters.” Carol says, reaching out to rub his arm and Dave nearly recoils from her touch. He doesn’t want to go home with Carol. He wants to see his girls.

“I-I know.” You nod quickly. Of course he has daughters. He has a family, a life that doesn’t include you in it. “I- I’m sorry, please give me a minute.” You turn and race up the stairs. Needing to hide your tears and to pack the clothes you had bought for Dave, along with all of his things that have been mixed in with yours.

He watches you go and he swallows down the words he wants to say. That he wants to stay with you. That he loves you. He can’t though, he has to go home and figure out his life. “You have no idea how much effort I’ve put in to find you. I was expecting a body to bury. Not a fucking cheater.” Carol hisses and Dave turns to look at her, “I didn’t remember you. I lost my goddamn memories.” He growls, annoyed at his wife. One that he hasn’t loved for a long time before Robert tried to kill him.

Carol snorts, not believing the convenient lie that would absolve him from his part in the affair. 

“So what? You just happen to shack up with the woman who found you?” She gestures to his eye patch. “You can stop playing your fucking games David, you can fool her, I’m smarter than that.”

Dave scoffs, “it’s not a fucking game. She helped me when I was nearly dead. She saved me.” He hisses when he hears you coming down the stairs. “With her pussy?” Carol rolls her eyes at her husband. His face softens when he sees you and Carol notices that, huffing at the way he looks at you. He has never looked at her like that.

You had cried while shoving everything in a bag and grabbed his medical records. Drying your eyes, you know they are still red rimmed as you come down the stairs with the bag on your shoulder. “He- his medical records are here. His rehabilitation. His appointments for the glass eye.” You can’t look over at Dave, you know you will cry again, so you brace yourself and look into the unhappy face of Dave’s wife. “I didn’t- it- I’m sorry.” You whisper. “He really didn’t remember anything. And the police couldn’t find any record of him. He didn’t- it’s my fault. Blame me. Don’t blame him.” You hold out the records for her to take.

Dave shakes his head, “it’s not your fault. It’s mine. My past…it caught up to me.” He confesses and reaches for you to pull you into his arms. He breathes you in and pulls back a few seconds later to kiss your forehead. He wants to tell you he loves you but he knows that won’t help you at this moment. He steps back, turning his head so he doesn’t have to look at your face as he braces himself to leave your home. “Thank you. For everything.” He says when his eyes finally meet yours. You nod, your throat tight with emotion. Carol grabs the bag from you and touches her husband’s arm. “Let’s get you home.” She says, emphasizing the word. He nods, trying to commit your face to memory before Carol clears her throat and he steps back to exit your home, the place he came to call home.

The door clicks closed and the house is silent, mournfully so. Leaving you to absorb the fact that Dave - who really was Dave - is gone. And you didn’t even get his last name. Choking out a sob, you don’t care that the pancakes are burning or that the bacon is getting cold. You don’t care about anything, your heart is breaking, bleeding out of your chest. The man you love is gone.

**** 

“Daddy!” “You’re home!” The girls rush up to Dave and he kneels down, wrapping his arms around them and kissing their heads. “I missed you.” He murmurs into their hair, pulling back a second later. “Daddy! You have an eye patch.” Alice points out and Molly giggles, “you look like a pirate.” Dave chuckles, “yeah. Daddy had an accident and he’s sorry he wasn’t here but he is now. I love you. Both of you. So much.” He murmurs, hugging them close again and he hates how he’s had to leave you but his girls need him.

Carol stands back, watching the girls with their father and she’s still suspicious. From the looks of the folder, it’s true that he had amnesia, he didn’t remember her or the girls. But she still isn’t happy with the way Dave had looked at you. His heart was in his eyes and despite knowing all his secrets, accepting him for who he is, having his children - he never looked at her like that.

****

Dave tries to settle back in at home but it’s hard. He isn’t the same man. He doesn’t go back to work for the DIA. He can’t. Robert is still out there and he doesn’t know if he knows Dave is alive. It’s been a few months that Dave has been home and he can’t stop thinking about you. The television is playing some show Carol likes and he isn’t paying attention to it. Carol notices. She’s picked up how distant her husband is. He doesn’t touch her, he doesn’t kiss her. He is a different person. He isn’t the killer she knew when she married him. He’s softer…not as rough. Not the man she desired. 

“You thinking about her?” Carol asks without warning, making Dave turn to look at her. “Who?” He asks, trying to act indifferent. She says your name, “I know you love her. The way you looked at her…you never looked at me like that.” She murmurs and Dave opens his mouth to try and protest but she stops him. “I don’t want you here if you don’t want me.” She says and Dave shakes his head, “but we are married.” Carol scoffs, “Dave. Don’t be ridiculous. You might not have died that day but you changed. You’re not the man I married. Go back to her. I never expected to lose you to a nurse…another agent maybe, but not someone…nice. Go back to her and if you want to come home, I’ll let you come back. You need to decide what you want. I don’t want a half marriage.” She confesses and Dave is speechless. He never expected her to be so selfless. “I need to decide.” He agrees, knowing he will be selfish, leaving his wife and his girls but once he decides, he will figure everything out. He knows he needs to see you again.

You hum to yourself, to your stomach as you work on the cake you are baking. Your life has been changed by Dave. You had discovered that you were pregnant after he had left and there was never a doubt in your mind if you were keeping the baby. It was the last piece you had of him, even if you planned to never let him know that he had a son or daughter with you. You couldn’t do that, even if you wanted to, you don’t know his last name. Pouring the last of the batter into the pan, you turn to place it in the oven and set the timer.

Dave shifts from one foot to the other, his bag on his shoulder and he takes a deep breath before he rings the doorbell. You don’t answer right away, opening the door several moments later and his eye widens as your head peaks around the corner. “Hey sweetheart.” He murmurs, his heart pounding in his chest.

You freeze, eyes wide when you see Dave and you immediately look behind him. Hoping that his wife isn’t here too, “what are you doing here?” You demand. “You can’t- Dave, you can’t be here.”

“I left her. Carol…she told me to come see you because I wasn’t - she knew my heart wasn’t with her. She wanted me to come back and if I returned to her, then she’d accept me back. If not, she would accept that too. She doesn’t want a ghost as her husband. I came back because I- I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you, baby.” Dave chokes, his chest tightening as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Dave- you have a family.” You whisper, guilt flooding your entire body as you straighten up and step through the door, showing him the rounded belly that houses his child. “I’m- we’re fine.” You caress your stomach. “I love you and I know that you need to be with them. They had you before I did.”

Dave’s eye widens at the sight of your round belly. He gasps and his hand reaches out towards you until he lowers it. “Baby…you’re - Jesus. I left you - you’re - shit.” He chokes and shakes his head. “I have my daughters but Carol - I don’t love her. I love you. Please. Let me - I want you. Shit. Our child.” He can’t believe you’re pregnant.

“What’s your last name?” You ask softly, reaching out and taking his hand so he can feel the baby. “I didn’t think to ask that day and you never came back.” You start to tear up, having missed him every day since he walked out your door.

“York. David Anthony York. I was born April 2nd, 1975.” He tells you, wanting you to know everything about him. He has to tell you the dark parts, his past. You deserve to know. His hand caresses your bump and his eye widens when he feels the kick. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” He asks, not caring either way, he wants a healthy baby.

You smile softly. “It’s a boy.” You tell him, remembering the day you had seen the very obvious boy parts on the screen. “I know you have girls, but hopefully you would be happy with a boy?”

Dave smiles, “I’d be happy with either. A healthy baby. But a boy…our boy.” He murmurs, wanting to kiss you but he refrains, knowing you might not want that. “God, our boy.” He says softly, his heart pounding and he caresses your stomach.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask softly, afraid of waking up and finding this to be a dream. You would be completely heartbroken. “I have every intention of raising this little boy on my own. You don’t have to give up your life for me.”

“I’m not giving up my life. I died that day. The person I was died. You saved me. Gave me a new life. Baby, I need - I need to talk to you. I need to tell you what my life was. You need to know everything. Can we sit and talk?” He asks, adjusting his bag over his shoulder.

“Of course we can.” You nod and motion towards the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?” You ask. “I’m drinking herbal teas these days, but I’m assuming you still like coffee.” You have a few muffins from your last batch, having started baking as a hobby during your pregnancy. It’s nesting you can only assume. “We can talk in the kitchen. I have a cake in the oven.”

“That sounds good, sweetheart.” Dave says as sets his bag down, following you into the kitchen. You start on making him a cup of coffee and he sits down at the kitchen table, watching you with a soft smile on his face. He’s missed you. So much. You set the cup of coffee down, still remembering how he likes it, and he admires the muffin you put in front of him. “Cake smells delicious too.” He says, “have you been working?” He asks, curious how you’ve been coping.

“I picked up a lot of shifts.” You nod, stirring the tea as it infuses with the hot water. “Practically lived at the hospital the first month.” You shoot him a guilty look and look back down at the cup in your hands. “Being here was….hard.” Despite having lived here for years before Dave’s arrival in your life, he had managed to ingrain himself into every corner of the home, expecting to see him every time you walked into a room. “I’m back to my normal shifts now. Because of the baby.”

“You need to be relaxing.” He tuts, “you should be resting, not rushing around a hospital.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of the coffee. “I’ve missed you. So much. I didn’t - I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“How are your girls?” You ask softly. “You have more than one, obviously. What are their names?” You’ve missed him too, but you want to know if he really is prepared to have them live in a split household. “I was thinking about you too.” You admit softly.

Dave reaches for your hand, “they are good. I have two. Alice and Molly. They have picked up that something has changed. Molly asked me why I’m so sad. Carol heard it. That’s why- I think that’s what pushed her to send me away.” He confesses, “I don’t - I don’t want to rock their world but what good am I as their father if my heart and mind are miles away?”

You feel your heart break and mend all at the same time. Squeezing his hand gently. “Dave, I-“ you are interrupted by the sound of another man’s voice. The same man who had come to visit you just days after Carol had come to take him away. “I knew I would find you here, Dave.” Your head turns to find Robert McCall standing in the doorway of your kitchen. You hadn’t even heard him come in. “That was a mistake.”

Dave stands up immediately, cursing himself for not having a gun. He hasn’t held one since before the accident. He shifts to stand in front of you, “McCall. I’m guessing you’ve come to finish the job. I get it. Just - just not here. Not in front of her.” Dave pleads slightly, holding his hands out in front of him.

You stand up, moving in front of Dave as Mr. McCall points the gun in his hand at the man you love. “Please. Don’t do this.” You murmur softly. “He's a good man. He’s- we are having a baby.” You remind him, caressing your stomach. “He has two daughters. Don’t leave them without their father.”

Dave looks at Robert over your shoulder before he shifts to stand in front of you again, “can I at least say goodbye?” He requests and McCall nods. Dave turns around to face you, his hands immediately cupping your cheeks after you stood up for him and he presses his lips to yours. A kiss to tell you thank you for everything, to say he’s sorry. A kiss to tell you how much he loves you. “I love you. So much. You’re everything. You and my children. I- tell our boy his daddy loved him. Don’t lie and tell him I was a good man because I’m not. I’ve done horrible things and they - my past - caught up to me. I love you.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours as he breathes you in.

You start to cry, tears streaming down your cheeks and you can’t help it. You turn to Robert. “This man dances in the kitchen with me.” You sob. “He- he paints and he listens to music with joy and love. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” You are begging for his life, but you would do it. “If you kill him, you will have to kill me first.” You declare. “Are you willing to kill an innocent woman? Her baby inside her?”

Robert stares at you for a moment before his eyes flick over to Dave. He doesn't look like the man he knew. Gone is that hardness in his gaze, the tension in his jaw. He looks like a man who wants to live but is willing to die for his family. The Dave York he knew would never sacrifice himself for anyone. "Don't kill her. Kill me. I - fuck - not her. Me." Dave begs, stepping in front of you again. Robert narrows his eyes, assessing the man in front of him. He raises his gun and you scream but Dave shoves you back, his hands shaking slightly, and that's when Robert lowers the gun. "You've changed." He observes and Dave nods, "I don't - that isn't me anymore." He confesses, "I just want to be with my family." Robert tilts his head, "and you will. If I hear a goddamn word about you being back in the circles, you're a dead man. I will kill you without hesitation and you won't know when it will happen." Robert threatens and Dave nods, "understood." Robert looks over at you, nodding his head, "be safe." He orders and spins on his heel, heading down the hall. You gasp after a few seconds and Dave spins, running his hands over your body. "Are you okay?" He asks, needing to reassure himself that you're safe.

“I’m- I’m okay.” You assure him shakily and cling to him. Trying to steady your breath as you run your own hands over him. You had thought he was going to be killed and you couldn’t live with that. “I- I can’t- he was going to kill you.” You whimper, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I couldn’t- I love you.”

Dave reaches out to wipe your tears away with his thumbs, "don't. He - he's gone now, baby. You're safe." Dave doesn't know that for sure but he won't waste time worrying about Robert coming to kill him. He has already lived more than he ever planned to. He could've been killed that fateful day he washed up on shore. "I love you. I love you." He repeats, leaning in to kiss your lips, his hands cupping your cheeks as he closes his eyes and relishes the fact that you are safe.

“I want-“ you close your eyes and lean into his kisses. “I want you to stay.” You admit quietly. “I want you to stay with me and the baby. It’s selfish and I shouldn’t want it, but I do. I want you to stay.”

"I want to stay. I don't want to go back to Carol. She knows that. The girls...we will share custody and Carol can have the house. I want to be with you. Our son. The girls. My family." He chokes and kisses your lips again. "Let me - I need to feel you." He murmurs, his body burning from the adrenaline and the emotions.

You nod, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Anything you want.” You promise softly. “I’m yours, Dave.” You start to unbutton his shirt, also desperate to make sure he is really there. “Wait.” A thought crosses your mind and you pull back. “Have you- um- since you’ve been back with Carol-“ you don’t want to risk the baby’s health if he’s slept with his wife.

Dave shakes his head, "no. I have been sleeping in the guest room. I haven't touched her. I couldn't. Not when - not when you were all I could think about." He confesses, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt but he doesn't move to pull it over your head, not without you saying yes.

“My body has changed.” You warn him softly even though he would be aware of that since he has a wife and children.

He scoffs, "yeah. You're even more fucking beautiful." He says and you let him lift your shirt over your head. He sighs, shifting to kneel down in front of you, his hands caressing your belly. "Hi buddy. It's daddy. I'm here. I'm sorry it took me so long but I'm home." He murmurs, leaning in to press kisses to your stomach.

You bite your lip, running your fingers through his hair gently. Watching as he coos to the child you had created together. “I love you so much, Dave.”

He looks up at you, his hands sliding lower to your leggings. “I want to taste you again.” He murmurs, pulling your leggings down along with your panties. He leans in to breathe you in, nose buried in the curls at the apex of your thighs after he ducks under your belly. The leggings around your ankles as he nuzzles your sex with his nose.

“Dave.” Your eyes widen slightly and you grab onto the back of the chair. You hadn’t expected him to be so eager he couldn’t wait for the bedroom, but maybe you should have. He’s always been eager for you. Now, your belly is big enough that you can’t see him and you whine softly. “I need you, Dave.”

He nudges your legs apart with his shoulders, tilting his head so he can slide his tongue through your folds with a groan as soon as your tangy arousal hits his taste buds. His hands find your ass, keeping you stable and tilting your hips so he has more access to you.

You moan loudly, aware that there could be anyone to hear you, maybe even Robert if he had not left. You don’t care, let him hear. Dave’s tongue carves a path through your folds and you whimper his name again, clenching around nothing.

Dave groans when you moan loud enough to echo in your small kitchen. He hisses when you rock your hips down and his cock presses against the zipper of his jeans. He smacks your ass playfully, working your pussy over his face while you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Fuck baby.” Your head rolls back in pleasure. “Missed you so much. Fuck, I missed you. So much.” You whimper, tugging on his hair slightly. “My fingers and vibrator weren’t enough. Could never replace you.”

Dave groans at your confession, wanting to see that sometime, and he can feel how close you are with the way you’re tugging on his fingers. “Need you to cum for me.” He rasps as he pulls back for a moment. “Want to feel it. See it.” He pleads and resumes sucking on your clit.

You are so sensitive. So sensitive from the pregnancy. Whining softly, you feel the tension building in your core and it’s only a few short sucks to your clit later that you are cumming. Crying out his name, your thighs tremble and you rely on his strength to keep you upright. “Dave! Fuck! Dave!”

Dave loves the way you cry out his name. It sounds so sweet from your lips. “That’s it, baby. So perfect.” He murmurs, caressing your thighs as you recover from his onslaught. “I love you.” He declares again, kissing your belly and his cock is pressing against his zipper.

“Dave, I want you inside me.” You murmur, voice thick with pleasure. “On the table.” You decide, reaching down for him. “I can’t wait for the bedroom.”

He knows he should insist on the bedroom but he feels just as desperate to touch you. He shifts to stand up, carefully spinning you around and grabbing your thighs to lift you up onto the table. It shifts slightly and he reaches down to unbuckle his belt, hands fumbling as he tries to take his hard cock out of his jeans.

“You have me, baby.” You lean back on the table on your elbows and look up at him. “I’m all yours and you’re mine.” It’s humbling to know that he chose you, he put aside his life- his entire being-to be with you.

Dave leans in to press his lips to yours, loving how you so easily give all of yourself to him. He’s done terrible things in his past life and you don’t judge him. He grips his cock, pumping himself a couple of times before he notches the head at your entrance, his eye flicking up to your face to watch you as he pushes into you with a groan.

It’s different now that you are pregnant. Your walls are more sensitive, clenching down around him while your head rolls back on a moan. Hes thicker, that’s the only explanation for how fucking good he feels inside you. “Dave…..” you whimper. “More, baby, I need you.”

He doesn’t deny you. His hands caressing your body, and he squeezes your breast as he starts to move inside of you. “I’ll give you what you want. Whatever you want.” He vows, rocking into you with a groan. “So fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, “full of my baby.”

You love him. You moan his name, loving how he is grinding up into you. Loving that he is here. With you. You know that things will need to be worked out, details seen to, but he’s with you. Hopefully Carol won’t deny him time with the girls. “Your baby.” You caress your stomach and smile. “You claimed me.”

Dave shakes his head, “you found me. You saved me. Shit baby. You - you’re a goddamn angel and I don’t deserve you. The things I’ve done…I don’t deserve you.” He pants, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, wanting to hear you cry out with pleasure.

“You deserve the world.” You insisted, crying out when he bites down on your nipple gently. “Baby, baby, I’m going to cum, you’re going make me cum!” You squeal, reaching down and rubbing your clit to give you that extra stimulation you need.

He bats your hand away, wanting to control your pleasure, and he hisses when you clamp down around him. “That’s it baby. Take it all. Cum for me.” He pleads, watching your eyes squeeze shut and you hold your breath as you start to clamp down around his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. You’re so tight.” He hisses as you squeeze his length and soak him. “Shit.” He pants, trying to rock you through it and it’s been months since he came. He refused to have sex with Carol. He is pent up and it doesn’t take more than a half dozen thrusts for him to push deep and paint your walls with his hot cum.

You whine at the feeling, loving how he fills you up. Riding out your high, you watch his face. Enjoying the way his brow smooths out and his face contorted in pleasure as he rocks himself through it. “Soo good, baby.” You mumble thickly, smiling lazily. “Feels so good.”

He leans down to kiss you, mindful of your bump, and he nudges his nose against yours, “love you.” He whispers, his hand caressing your bump and he sighs when you kiss his chin. He knows he’s made the right decision to come back to you. 

**** 

“Girls. Girls. You gotta wait for them to cool down.” You chuckle at Alice and Molly trying to grab one of the freshly cooked cookies from the tray. “You’ll burn your fingers.” Dave tuts as he walks into the kitchen, your son, Anthony, in his arms. “He needs feeding, babe. I’ll deal with the cookie monsters.” He says, coming over to you to slide the baby into your arms. The girls squeal when he growls and rushes towards them in the kitchen. “Cookie monsters.” He playfully growls and they squeal, running into the living room. “They will be back before too long.” You chuckle, taking your breast out to feed the baby. “And before they are, I gotta tell you something…the divorce is final. As of this morning. So there’s something I want to do.” Dave reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “You saved me. In so many ways. You saved my life. You saved my morality. You saved me from a job that nearly got me killed. You’re my angel and there isn’t a single day that I don’t thank God for you and our family. Will you let me make an honest woman of you? Marry me?” He asks, opening the box to display the diamond ring inside.

Your eyes widen in surprise, sure that despite divorcing Carol, Dave wouldn’t want to get married again. You were fine with that because you know what you mean to him. “Dave….” holding your son, you can’t fall into his arms but you immediately nod. “Yes! Yes, of course baby, I love you so much.” You promise, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He grins, leaning in to kiss you. After a few moments, he pulls back to take the ring out of the box. He slides it onto your left hand after you shift the baby over into your elbow and he looks down at the diamond on your finger. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, his eyes flicking up to you. The girls rush back into the kitchen and their eyes widen at the ring on your finger. “Oh it’s so pretty.” The girls coo. They were cautious at first, upset at mommy and daddy living apart but they have grown to love you. Dave grins, looking at his children before he looks at you and winks. No longer a killer, you saved his life and you saved his soul.

[nadvs]

hi I’m current obsessed with swte universe 😭

would you write a blurb showing us how rafe and the reader dealt with the pregnancy? Specially after finding out it was twins. Like her mood changes and how Rafe dealt with all of that. Oh and if you could also show us about the day the babies were born 🥹🎉

omg thank you so much 🥹 yes of course!! i wrote a little pregnancy blurb and will do the birth story separately 🥰

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe is already protective as hell. but when he finds out she’s pregnant, it reaches a new level. he doesn’t even let her try to reach something off of the top shelf in the kitchen.

“i need to be active,” she says to him as he hands her the pan she was trying to grab. “it’s not good for me or the baby if i don’t move around.”

“then take walks,” rafe says, towering over her. “but if you need to reach something, get me.”

“what if you’re not home?”

“then wait for me to get home.”

she rolls her eyes, irritated but mostly endeared that he’s being so careful.

she gets morning sickness. and afternoon sickness. and night sickness. every time she retches in the bathroom and rafe is home to hear it, she comes out to see him standing by the door, a concerned wince on his face and a glass of water in his hand.

“you okay?” he asks.

she just shakes her head no and takes the glass.

when she reaches eight weeks, they go for her first ultrasound. she can tell something’s up when the technician who’s scanning her stomach seems to straighten up a few minutes in, then continues to take photos.

“is everything okay?” she asks nervously.

“yup,” the tech says. a few gruelling minutes pass by before she turns the screen towards her and rafe.

“i just wanted to confirm before telling you,” the tech explains, “i’m detecting two heartbeats. you’re having twins.”

they speechlessly watch the black and grey screen, following the tech’s finger as she points at a faint blinking.

“there’s one…” she says, then moves, “and two.”

“two,” rafe repeats. he’s still wrapping his head around the fact that he just saw his baby’s heartbeat, let alone two. he meets eyes with his girlfriend, both of them astonished.

a smile grows on his face, his warm hand wrapping around hers. but she’s still in shock.

“w-wow,” she stutters. “you’re sure?”

“positive,” the tech replies.

“i guess, um,” she says, “i guess my doctor will talk to me about it, but is there a higher risk of complications?”

all she’s been reading about is general, common, one-baby pregnancy. this is throwing her for a loop.

“it’s different for every woman,” she tells her, “but you’ll probably have more appointments than you expected just because doctors prefer to monitor multiple births closer.”

“okay,” she says. “thank you.”

“i’ll be sending the images to your doctor and she’ll follow up,” she says, handing her a wad of paper towels. “congratulations. i’ll give you some space to clean the gel and you can head out the same way you came in.”

the tech leaves the room. she meets her boyfriend’s eyes, still unable to crack a smile.

“you okay?” rafe asks.

“i’m…” she begins. “i can’t believe this. this whole time, i’ve been picturing… but there’s… there’s two?”

“there’s two,” he says. he can see how anxious she is. “i’ll be with you through it all.”

“i’m gonna get huge,” she says, shaking her head as she wipes the gel off her stomach.

“i hope so,” he replies. “future nba stars in there. they need to be tall.”

“god,” she says. “twins. why’d you do this to me?”

“i’m efficient.”

she meets his eyes, finally smiling.

“i’m glad you’re so happy,” she tells him.

he looks at her with soft eyes. he knows she’s still harboring a fear that rafe will treat their child like she was treated by her father. he’s learned not to take it personally. but even if he did, he’s determined not to stress her out at all through these nine months, so he wouldn’t say anything anyway.

“are you? happy?” he asks. he realizes he’s kind of fearful, too. maybe she’ll just be worried throughout the pregnancy. maybe they will face complications.

“yes,” she breathes. “i just need to shock to wear off first.”

sure enough, the doctor confirms it. she tells them that multiple pregnancies are riskier, but that they’ll monitor her closely.

as she gets heavier, she gets more irritable and demanding. rafe hates himself for it, but he gets frustrated at times, especially when he’s had a long day and comes home to their penthouse condo to see her on the couch, looking like she’s annoyed he’s home.

he never says anything when he’s irritated. but she can read him like a book.

“why are you mad at me?” she snaps, following him into the bedroom one night after he gets home from the gym.

“i didn’t say a word,” rafe mumbles.

“i can see it on your face,” he says. “what, is it because i don’t have dinner waiting? the smell of anything cooking makes me hurl, you know.”

“i know,” he says, throwing his gym clothes in the hamper. “i’m not mad.”

“can’t you look at me?”

rafe sighs and turns to look at her, her belly round and protruding under her shirt.

“you’re not even happy to be home,” she says, her hands on her hips.

“i am,” he says. “i’m just tired.”

“and i’m not? i have not one, but two things draining me of everything in me every second of every day. i don’t get any breaks. i can’t sleep.”

“i know,” he breathes. “i’m sorry. did you eat?”

“you think i’m stupid enough to be skipping meals? i’m nourishing them,” she says, touching her stomach. “don’t worry about that.”

“i meant…” rafe scratches the back of his neck. he refuses to lose his temper on her when she’s in this state; especially because she’s suffering for both of them. “for you. did you eat?”

“yes,” she says, her hard expression faltering a bit.

“can i get you anything? you have any cravings?”

“not right now,” she replies.

he nods and turns to finish emptying his gym bag.

“i’m making a protein shake soon. you want one, too?” he asks, his back to her.

she sighs, tears welling up in her eyes, and steps forward, putting her arms around him, her stomach pushing against his lower back.

“i’m sorry i’m such a bitch,” she mumbles, sniffling.

“don’t say that. you’re not a bitch,” he says. he’s used to her mood swings by now, but she usually just goes from indifferent to angry and back. she hasn’t cried in a while.

“i can see myself being crazy but i can’t stop,” she admits. “and i’m nervous about tomorrow. i hope they’re doing okay. i still haven’t felt them move.”

her twenty-week ultrasound is tomorrow. they’ll be finding out the twins’ genders.

rafe turns and plants a slow, gentle kiss on her forehead. he exhales slowly as she shudders with her cries.

“they’re doing great,” he says. “all the appointments and check-ups have been good. and whatever they end up being, we’ll love them.”

“you’re right.” she sighs and tilts her chin to kiss him. she hates that she can’t remember the last time they kissed. she feels like all she’s been doing lately is whining and puking.

“how are you?” she asks.

“good.”

“how are you really?”

“i can’t complain.” he puts a hand on her belly. “i’m not the one with two things draining me every second of every day.”

“you’re allowed to be tired, too,” she says. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s all good, baby,” he says. “let’s watch something and pass out on the couch.”

“deal.”

the next day, they learn that she’s carrying a boy and a girl. rafe can’t believe how lucky he is.

when he falls asleep next to his girlfriend that night, curled up behind her, his hand on her belly, he feels a light, almost imperceptible movement on his palm.

“oh, my god,” she whispers into the dark. “did you feel that?”

“was that…?”

“it was,” she says, choking up. “one of them saying hi.”

rafe shuffles closer and kisses her neck a hundred times, gently rubbing her tummy. he still can’t get the way they looked on the ultrasound screen out of his head. he can’t fully comprehend that this is really happening, that this is his life, playing professionally and expecting babies with the only girl he’s ever loved.

he can take her mood swings. he can take her any way. as long as she’s with him.

a few days later, she suggests rafe go on a trip with his friends since it’s the off season. he asks her why and she tells him “so you get a break from me.”

rafe chuckles and kisses her before he tells her, “i don’t need a break from my best friend. what’d i tell you? you won’t do any of this alone.”

by the third trimester, she’s heavy and uncomfortable, but she’s not throwing up anymore. her mood swings are more manageable. at this point, she’s scared for the delivery, fully aware that babies can always come early, especially twins, but she’s excited to finally meet them.

and every chance he gets, rafe kisses her forehead, then gives two kisses to her stomach, telling his son and his daughter that he loves them.

she’s amazed at this side of him. she already knew beneath his aggressive, temperamental exterior was a fiercely protective man with a big heart. but the way he’s been treating her, even when she’s been so difficult and unreasonable, is astonishing.

and she can’t wait to see him as a father. she realizes now that she has no doubt that he’ll always make their children feel loved.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded again.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

[fanaticsnail]

Would you bless us with Info about what fics your are working on at the moment, or what we can expect next from you? 👀✨

Lots of Love !

Hi Anon!!

Now that my asks are working again, I have a fair few kissing booth fics I need to get through! I hope I'll be able to complete a few of them soon.

In my drafts currently, I have some of my half to gift swapping for Rosinante x f!reader, Beckman x m!reader, Ace x f!reader, Buggy x f!reader, Law x f!reader, Aokiji x f!reader (NSFW), and a Smoker x f!reader (NSFW) that I am prioritising. Their recipients have all written and created little presents for me, and I can't wait to give them their gifts from me in return.

I also have a few paragraphs written for 'Hey Doc' and half of a fic for Heartbeats part 2 (Law x f!reader pregnancy) that I'd love to share. Then there's the 'dreaming of you' for ASL that I just can't seem to match up to the right vibe. It's been driving me crazy. There's also some older requests that I have been having a go at, considering I'm in my 'kid-pirate era' currently: Hanahaki for a Kid x gn!reader x Killer.

The fic I have written the most of is for Rosinante, but it reads more like a fairytale than anything else. Lots of fantasy themes in it, and I'd love to have more time to do it justice.

In my personal life, I have been booked as a session musician for an event this weekend, and have been prioritising my time to get my set list sorted and memorised so I can have fun with it. Country dance event, the other band members are so much fun: drummer, pianist and bassist all know each other and are just like 3 goofy uncles.

I think that's it so far. I would also like to say thank you for baring with me while I make some OC content and drawings. I do this as an exercise when my words aren't working and I need to focus on something else to keep the creativity flowing. Tobiuo has been fun to play with and I would love to tell her story one day.

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sequinsmile-x]

Hide Beside Me

Emily shares her oldest secret with Aaron. A few years later, that secret resurfaces.

Part 2/3 (Part 1 can be found here)

-x-

Hi besties <3

Thanks so much for all the love on part 1 - really blown away by it. As always, I got carried away and because of all the detail I wanted to add to this fic to do it justice, this is now a 3 parter instead of a 2 parter!!

Part 3 will be up later in the week.

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy, teen pregnancy, abortion, adoption, forced adoption

Words: 3.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She’d never truly let herself imagine it. 

Over the years, there had been fleeting moments when it would happen, when her subconscious would torment her with a brief flash of hope that one day she’d be reunited with the daughter she’d never been allowed to know. She’d always shake it off, try and rid herself of the thought that felt nothing but impossible, sure that even if she got the chance to know her oldest child she wouldn’t want to know her in return. The last thing Emily ever wanted was to cause her any pain, to do anything other than love her in the few minutes she’d been allowed a lifetime ago. 

She’d never pictured this. Had never thought she’d be the one who was sought out, and she’d certainly never pictured herself standing on the porch of her home, her infant son on her hip and her other two children inside getting ready for school as Sophia stood a few feet away from her. 

Rebecca. Her name was Rebecca. 

Emily can’t speak, rendered speechless for the first time in a long time. She feels like she’s underwater, her grip on Issac the only thing she’s aware of other than her heartbeat pounding in her head, the rhythm of it echoing around her skull, getting faster with each breath as nausea rolls in her gut. She sucks in a breath, desperate to say something, anything, so she doesn’t just continue to stare at the woman standing opposite her. 

At her daughter.

She opens her mouth, but she’s cut off by the door opening behind her and a tiny hand tugging on the leg of her pants. 

“I ready Mama.” 

She looks down at Rose, and she sees Rebecca do the same, her shoulders getting visibly tighter as she watches the interaction between the two of them. Emily smiles at the toddler, grateful that she’s too young to see the tension in it and she tugs gently at one of her braids, “Go find Jack, okay?” She says, ignoring the slight shake to her voice, “Make sure he’s ready for me?” 

Rose looks back and forth between Emily and Rebecca and tilts her head, her endless curiosity almost getting the better of her, her favourite word - why - on the tip of her tongue before Emily distracts her with another tug of her braid. Rose nods and turns back into the house, “Okay, Mama.” 

The moment Emily and Rebecca are alone again with Issac, the baby happy and content as he always was in his mother’s arms, the other woman clears her throat, drawing Emily’s attention to her. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, choking on the words as she shakes her head at herself, her hands tightly clasped in front of her, beads of blood visible on her cuticles from where she’d torn at them with her teeth, “I shouldn’t have come.”

When she turns her back, Emily’s brain finally kicks into gear, the shock she’d been overwhelmed by disappearing in an instant as she realises she might lose the chance she’d been waiting for more than half her life. 

“Wait,” she says, stepping forward, her heart in her throat, a lump she can’t swallow past as Rebecca turns to look at her, dark eyes meeting dark eyes, “Please don’t go. I’m sorry…I…I just wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

A smile flashes across Rebecca’s face and she crosses her arms over her chest, physically holding herself together, “What, you weren’t expecting your long lost kid to show up randomly on a Thursday morning?” 

It makes Emily laugh, the kind of bluntness that Aaron would always say was all her if Jack or Rose were ever guilty of it, “Something like that,” she says, reaching into her pocket, grateful that she had some of her business cards to hand as she pulls one out and hands it to Rebecca, her chest tight as their fingers skip across each other. The first touch between mother and daughter in 30 years. Both of them had been children last time, and neither of them had any say in the separation that had driven them to this awkward conversation on the porch of Emily’s family home, “Please take this, and call me? Or at least text me so I have your number. It’s my personal line. I need to get the kids to school…” she drifts off, cursing herself for mentioning the children when Rebecca’s smile gets tighter, “We deserve more time to talk about everything than 5 minutes.” 

Rebecca nods and looks at the card in her hand before she slips it into her jeans, “Okay, I’ll call you. I promise,” she looks lost for a moment, unsure if she should step forward for a hug or not, but she stops herself, her hands once again in a tight grasp in front of her, “I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Okay,” Emily says, “Speak to you soon, Rebecca.” she swallows thickly, her daughter’s actual name heavy and foreign on her tongue. 

Rebecca flashes a smile and nods, “Speak soon, Emily.”

She stands frozen in place as she watches Rebecca leave, unaware that she’s tightened her hold on Issac until he cries out, his eyebrows furrowed as she looks down at him, “Oh I’m sorry baby,” she says, kissing his forehead, letting her eye’s drift shut as she breathes him in, the sweet smell of his shampoo calming her down, “Mommy is so sorry.” 

Her brief moment of peace with her son is gone as soon as she realises it’s the same thing she’d said to Sophia - Rebecca -  the first, and only time, she’d held her. An apology whispered against her skin along with the name that had never gone any further than the two of them until she told Aaron about her. 

“Mom,” Jack says, calling from inside the house, “We’re going to be late.” 

She blows out a slow breath and wipes stray tears from her cheeks, stamping another kiss against Issac’s forehead before she walks into the house, “Coming, honey.” 

She somehow manages to get Jack to school on time and Rose is only marginally late for daycare. She’s about to drop off Issac too, but when he grips onto her shirt, his clinginess with her something that had been established since he was born. Tiny and screaming and only calm when he was in her arms or against her chest.  Every time she brought him to daycare on the days she worked he’d do this. He’d grasp the neckline of her shirt and cry, and she’d have to hand him over, assured by the workers that he always calmed down shortly after she left. It was something she was used to, something her heart had learned to take, but today it can’t. She can’t. It feels like his small hand is wrapped around her heart, his tiny sharp nails puncturing it as she finds herself unable to hand her baby over.

As soon as they are back in her car she calls her boss, and says she can’t come in today. A white lie about Issac having a cold that makes her feel guilty is accepted without comment. Her next call is to Aaron. She wants to talk to him, needs to talk to him, and she feels tears pressing at the back of her eyes the moment he answers. 

“Hi,” he says, his voice light and soft like it always was with her, and she can picture his smile, “Everything okay?” 

She sucks in a breath, her grip on the steering wheel tight, “Can you come home?” 

It’s a simple question, but one she’d never asked of him before, and it makes him panic. She can hear it in the intake of his breath, in the way she can hear his chair scrape on the floor, “Emily, are you okay? Are the kids okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re fine,” she says, swallowing thickly, “I promise. I…” she drifts off, unsure how to say it, the words stuck in her throat.

“Sweetheart, I’m coming home okay,” he assures her, fulfilling her request without having to think twice, “But I need to know that you’re okay.” 

She chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “She found me. She…she showed up at the house this morning.”

“Who did?”

She wipes tears from her cheeks and clears her throat, “Sophia.” 

There’s a gasp on the other end of the line followed by a brief moment of silence, “I’ll meet you at home as soon as I can, okay?” He asks, and she nods even though he can’t see her, “Want me to stay on the line with you until I get there?” 

She lets out a shaky laugh, “No, it’s okay,” she says, “I just…need to see you.” 

“I’m leaving the office now,” he replies, and she can hear the elevator, “I’ll use the blue lights and everything,” he jokes, desperate to do what he can for her until he makes it to her side. 

She presses her lips together to control a smile, unsure if it is inappropriate or not, her emotions in turmoil as she shifts between them all in quick succession, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, “Em…she found you.” 

“Yeah,” she says, her chest aching at the awe in his voice, the way he loved her and her story a comfort she’d never get enough of, “She found me.”

___

He finds her in the living room with Issac fast asleep in her arms, his cheek pressed against her chest, a small patch of drool visible on her blouse that Aaron knew cost more than most people made in a month. She’s staring straight ahead, her eyes wide but seeing nothing as her hand drifts idly up and down their infant son’s back, a movement that is more for her than the fast asleep Issac. 

“Sweetheart?” Aaron asks, careful to make sure he’s quiet, not wanting to wake up the baby or startle Emily. She turns to look at him, the brief look of confusion on her face enough to let him know she hadn’t heard his car pull up on the driveway, or the front door open. He looks at Issac, “Is he okay?” 

She nods, taking a moment to kiss her son’s dark hair, “He’s okay. I couldn’t bring myself to hand him over at daycare,” she says, her smile sad as she rests her cheek on top of the baby’s head, “Rose ran into her classroom like she always does. Happy to be there and excited to spend the day with her friends. But Zac…he…” 

“Held onto you and cried like he always does,” he finishes for her, and she nods again, swallowing thickly, tears pressing at the back of her eyes now he was here, now she no longer had to hold herself up all alone.

“I couldn’t let go of him,” she says, tightening her hold on Issac as if someone would take him, phantoms of her past who had once taken her baby from her breathing down her neck, the scent of the lady from the adoption agency’s perfume something she’d never been able to forget, “I just couldn’t.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he assures her, still standing a few paces away from the couch, unsure how to approach this, how to look after her on the day the daughter she’d been forced to give up three decades ago had reappeared. “What can I do?” 

She looks up at him, her chin trembling as she asks for the support she had lived without for most of her life, “A hug would be a good place to start.” 

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He’s on the couch with his arms around her in seconds, gathering her and Issac carefully against him. She’s crying the moment she’s safe in his embrace, her neck twisting at a slightly awkward angle so she doesn’t disturb Issac as she presses her face into Aaron’s neck. Desperate to fill her lungs with the scent of him, to replace the sickly sweet perfume she can smell even though she knows it’s not real with his woodsy cologne. 

“I’ve got you, Em,” he says, his hand hooked around the back of her head as he holds her in place, scratching at her scalp with his blunt nails, “I’m right here.” 

She cries for herself. For the 45 year old she was now who had spent decades wondering what her child looked like, mourning every birthday and graduation and Christmas she’d missed. For the 15-year-old who was forced into a situation she didn’t want twice - first keeping the pregnancy, and then having no choice but to give her baby up after she’d had 9 months to fall in love with her, every kick and elbow to the ribs a moment no one could take from her. 

She cries for Sophia. Rebecca. And she hopes she’s had a good life, that any conversations they have leave her assured the right decision had been made for her little girl even if it hadn’t been the right decision for her. 

Eventually, she calms down, her tears coming to a stop, Aaron’s embrace and his gently, soothing scratching of her scalp still going until she pulls back to look at him, her eyes still shining. Bright red and swollen with the make-up she’d put on that morning smudged around them. 

“I didn’t recognise her,” she says, her words painful and stuck in her chest as she hiccups around them. 

He tucks her hair behind her ear and wipes her tears from her cheeks, “What do you mean, baby?” 

She sniffs and shakes her head at herself, “When I answered the door, I didn’t recognise her at first. I asked who she was…my own kid. I didn’t recognise my own kid.”

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Hadn’t been able to get past the fact she hadn’t known who Rebecca was at first. It hurt. Made her doubt herself and her skills as a mother, every fantasy she had ever allowed herself that they’d know each other immediately torn to pieces in a moment. 

“Emily,” he says, wiping another tear from her cheek, “The last time you saw her she was minutes old. She’s, what, 30 now?” 

“30 years, 4 months and 3 weeks old,” Emily confirms, the date her daughter had been born one of the only bits of information she’d ever had about her so she’d held onto it tightly. 

“Exactly,” he says, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, “It’s not surprising it took you a minute,” he assures her, “And it certainly doesn’t make you a bad mother.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “Sometimes I swear you actually can read my mind.” 

He smiles, “No, I just happen to know my wife really well,” he says, kissing her forehead again before he pulls back to look at her, “What’s her name?” 

It reminds her of the very first conversation they’d had about Sophia. When she’d been terrified of telling him her oldest secret but he’d done what he always had - loved her unconditionally. His understanding of her so deep, as natural to him as breathing, that sometimes she wondered if he knew her better than he knew herself. 

“Rebecca,” she says, smiling as she says her name outloud, an answer to a question she’d had for so long, “Her name is Rebecca,” she looks down at Issac and kisses the top of his head, her smile soft and sad, “She’s beautiful.” 

“Of course she is,” Aaron says immediately, his eyes shining when she looks up at him, “She came from you.” 

She laughs and shakes her head at him, “How do you always do that?” 

“Do what?” He asks, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her, to provide the comfort he’d always give away for free. 

“Make me laugh on the hard days.” 

He leans in to kiss her, catching the corner of her lips and then her nose, “Because I love you,” he answers, “How did you leave things with her?” 

“I gave her my card. I told her to call me, she’s already sent me a text so I have her number,” she laughs disbelievingly, wondering how her world had changed so much in the space of a couple of hours, “I have Sophia’s number, Aaron,” she shakes her head at herself, “Rebecca,” she corrects, “That’s going to take some getting used to.” 

“It’s okay if she’s still Sophia in here,” he says, his finger gentle as he presses against her chest, hovering over the patch of drool from Issac’s open mouth just above her heart, “She has been for a long time.” 

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “When I…when I meet up with her, can you come with me?” She asks, “I know it might be complicated because of work if you get a case, and I understand if you can’t-”

“Sweetheart,” he says, cutting her off, smiling softly at her, “There is nothing that would stop me being there for you, okay? You and the kids are the most important thing to me. No matter what.” 

She rests her head on his shoulder and sinks into his side, “I can’t believe this is happening,” she murmurs, “It feels like a dream.” 

He wraps his arm around her shoulders to keep her in place against him and kisses her temple, “It’s happening, Em,” he says, tears making his vision blurry because of how happy he is for her, “It’s really happening.” ___

She was exhausted, but happy. 

Labour had been worse than she’d remembered. The pain something that time and Mother Nature had erased from her memory. 

Her labour with Rose was the opposite of her labour with Sophia. Last time, she’d been alone the entire time, no one with her but medical staff who drifted in and out of the room for hours. Aaron had stayed by her side for every single second of her labour with Rose, providing both the physical and emotional support she needed, anticipating her needs before she even knew what they were. She’d encouraged him to go home with Jack, her smile soft as she told him that she and Rose would be okay, that he was exhausted and needed to sleep in their bed and not the tiny bed the nurses had rolled in for him. 

He’d left reluctantly, kissing both her and Rose’s foreheads before he went home, a promise that he’d be back in the morning pressed against her skin. 

“Okay, sweet girl,” she says, wincing as she pushes herself off the hospital bed and walks slowly the very short distance to the bassinet, “Let’s see if we can get this feeding thing down…” She fades off when she sees the bassinet is empty, the blanket Rose had been swaddled in left behind. She sucks in a breath, looking around the room in a panic, “Rose?” It’s ridiculous and she knows it, knows that her 4-hour-old couldn’t respond, but she says it anyway, the discomfort she’d been in before gone in an instant as she tears around the room, looking for her little girl, “Rose?”

She stops in place when she smells something familiar, a sickly sweet perfume that has always turned her stomach. A smell that meant loss and pain and she gasps, her hand over her mouth as she cries out again.

“Rose.” 

___

She gasps as she wakes up, Aaron’s arm slipping from her waist as she sits up, her hand pressed against her chest as she tries to even out her breathing, desperate to shake off the remnants of an old nightmare she hadn’t had in a while but that had haunted her most nights when Rose and Issac were both newborns. 

She’s on her feet before she can think about it, grabbing Aaron’s robe from the back of the door on her way past and slipping it on, the smell of him still clinging to the soft flannel material. She sneaks down the hallway towards Rose’s bedroom, careful to make sure she’s quiet as she walks past the nursery so she doesn’t wake up Issac. She’s gentle as she pushes open Rose’s door, which had already been slightly ajar anyway in case she wanted to seek out her parents in the night, and Emily blows out a slow breath when she sees her little girl fast asleep in her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her favourite toy - a stuffed orca whale Jessica had bought her from the aquarium - her sweet face lit up by the nightlight in the corner of the room. 

Emily closes her eyes and tries to even out her breathing, her hand against her chest as she does so. She hears the door to the master bedroom open and she turns to look, her lips pressed together in a tight smile when she looks at her husband, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he says, walking over to her, his arms immediately wrapping around her from behind, tugging her close, his lips pressed against her covered shoulder, “Did you have the nightmare?” 

She hums and nods, turning her head to kiss his cheek, “I did.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I should have expected it,” she says, looking back at Rose, checking on her one more time before she lets the door close again, stopping it before it clicks into place, “I don’t know why I didn’t,” she links her arm through his as they walk back to their bedroom, “I am happy she reached out,” she says, “I really am, but…” 

“Em,” he says, stopping her, his hands at her elbows, “I know you are. I know you’re happy, but you’re allowed to have mixed feelings about it. It’s a lot to deal with.” 

She nods and chuckles dryly, “It is,” she shakes her head, “What if she doesn’t like me?” She asks, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought that felt childish, like she was still the teenager who had been in this situation in the first place. 

“It’s impossible not to like you,” he replies, his hands slipping to her hips, “Everyone loves you the moment they meet you.” 

She raises her eyebrow at him, “You didn’t.” 

He shakes his head at her, “Sweetheart-”

“You can deny it all you want, baby,” she says, patting his cheek before she shrugs off his robe and climbs into bed, “But we both know you didn’t like me.” 

“I was just taken aback by your beauty,” he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes at him as he joins her in bed, pulling her against his side, “I was projecting because I felt guilty about finding a woman who wasn’t my wife attractive.” 

She hums, resting her head on his shoulder and hooking her leg over his hips, “I’ll believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.” 

He smiles and kisses the top of her head, “Everything will okay, Em.” 

She nods, wanting more than anything to believe him, that this would somehow turn out to be everything she’d never allowed herself to believe it could be, “Yeah,” she says, snuggling in closer, “Everything will be okay.” 

[forever-rogue]

happy new year lovely!! thank you for blessing us with wonderful content <33

i saw that youre taking request and id love to ask for maybe a flashback fic with javi and dulzura when she's at the height of her pregnancy. javi dealing with cravings, mood swings, and h0rniness and all that lol oki tyyy

AN | Oooh, I’ve missed these two!  Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language, 

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were going to kill Javier. If not that, you were at least never letting him touch you again. 

It was the height of summer, and you were hot, miserable, and very pregnant. There were moments when you wanted to cry about it, moments when you really just wanted to throw yourself in the shower and stand under the cold water, and moments where every little thing annoyed you. 

There were only a few months left…you could manage that. And then you’d never have to do it again. Good on Javier for actually going through with getting a vasectomy. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Javi woke up, it was still the middle of the night. He reached across the best for you but found your side of the bed empty. He sighed lightly, having wanted to pull your warm, soft body into his. Ever the diligent husband, he slipped out of the bed in search of you. He completed a trek through the upstairs, checking in on the four kids before making his way downstairs. If you weren’t up there, you had to be somewhere down there, and if he knew anything about you by now, he had a feeling you’d be in the kitchen.

“Dulzura?” he called out softly when he saw the faint light in the dining room. He walked in and did his best to stifle his laugh; it wasn’t at you per se, but the sight was a little funny. You were sitting at the table, reading a book while you munched on some mac n cheese - the cheap Kraft kind is what you insisted upon these days - doused in sriracha and a side of pickles. Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked up at him and sniffled, “baby, what’s wrong?”

“Javi,” you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand before holding up your book, “he just told her that he’d been waiting for her and he’d always wait for her because she’s his soulmate. They’re so in love and now they get a second chance!”

So in love just like we are, he wanted to say. Instead he came over and crouched at your side, gently taking the book out of your hands before touching your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You huffed slightly, but leaned into his touch, “you’re up late, honey.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted quietly, on the verge of tears again, “and your kid was hungry. So I came down to make a snack and then I remembered I’d left my book down here so I started reading and then just…eating and reading.”

“Eating and reading,” he echoed as you nodded sweetly, “aye, what am I going to do with you, huh?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you pouted and Javi couldn’t help but laugh before he leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Bump makes it hard to sleep comfortably and I’m always hungry.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and truthfully, if he could have taken the burden of being pregnant away from you, he would have in a heartbeat, “it’s not for much longer though.”

You mulled over his words for a few moments before a new wave of emotion washed over you and big, fat crocodile tears welled up and ran down your cheeks, “I-I don’t want to be pregnant anymore-”

“It’ll be over soon - forever.”

“I don’t want that either,” you choked on a sob as you reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “I’m not ready for another baby. I want to stay pregnant.”

“Honey,” he chuckled fondly, reaching to put his arms around you and holding you as tightly as possible. You hugged onto your husband as best as you could despite your bump and held onto him as tightly as possible, “it’s okay - it will be okay. We’re gonna figure it all out together, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded in agreement, “you’re right. You’re always right. You’re so smart. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he gently rubbed your back in soothing circles as he let you get it all out, tears wetting the cotton of his shirt, “it’s okay, just get it all out. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you pulled back to look at him, to study your sweet, sweet husband and his handsome face. You tenderly cradled his face in your hands, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” he teased softly, “but I’ll allow it. C’mon, let me take you to bed and help you get comfortable.”

“Can I bring the pickles?”

“Of course.”

“Will you read to me?”

“Whatever you desire, Dulzura.”

“Do you still love me?”

“More than anything in this world,” and with that he pressed a kiss to your lips and took your hand in his, “more than anything.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wouldn’t be a normal evening in the Peña household without some sort of chaos. And usually, it wouldn’t bug you or phase you but right now, being so pregnant and going through a particularly emotional period caused you to almost have a breakdown. Lucia was a bundle of energy bouncing around the house as she pretended to be a popstar. Santi and Thea were playing with Legos, something that still made you nervous so you kept stealing glances at them every few minutes to make sure no one was choking. Javi was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table as he graded some papers. 

Meanwhile you were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner with Diego following underfoot. He must have been going through some sort of phase because he was really clingy with you and wanted to be around you all the time. Javier had offered to help but it was already hard enough with one of your boys next to you, so you’d insisted you had it handled. Once the counters were cleaned off, you leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Mama?” Diego tugged on your leg and gave you a sweet smile. You reached down and ran a hand through his dark curls and gave him a soft smile, “are you okay?”

“Oh honey,” the little look of concern on his face made you want to cry. You hated the idea that he could tell that you weren’t feeling great. You kneeled down as best as you could before pulling him into a hug, “I’m okay, Diego. I’m just tired is all. It’s not anything you or your sisters and brother did. None of you are in trouble or anything. I love you so much, my sweet boy.”

“I love you too,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. He really was the sweetest little thing and you were just so lucky that he was your son, “it’ll be okay, mama.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, “how could it not be when I’ve got all of you? Hey, we need to make brownies for Lucia’s class tomorrow, do you want to help me?”

“Okay,” he nodded happily, his big brown eyes lighting up, “can I lick the spoon?”

“Of course, mijo,” you promised, grabbing the back of the counter and slowly standing back up. You cast a quick look into the living room and found that everything was still as it should be. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips. It wasn’t that you were inherently worried that something was going to happen, but you’d been on edge lately, all part of the wonderful pregnancy experience. 

Diego popped to the other side of the counter and climbed onto one of the stools to watch you closely, ready to be your little assistant. You grabbed a bowl and a few other utensils before turning to the pantry to pull out the things you’d need. Part of you had been tempted to just use a box mix, but you wanted to go full on and make everything from scratch. You’d never thought you’d turn into one of those moms, but here you were.

But as you pushed through all the stuff that was there, you realized that the items you needed weren’t there. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you took a moment to calm yourself down. Everything was fine…in the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal. But right now it seemed like a huge deal.

“Javi?” you heard him hum in response but he didn’t even look up from the paper he was looking over. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed heavily, “Javier. Can you come here, please?”

Almost as if he could sense that something was wrong, he immediately set down his stack of papers before coming over to you. He offered you a tentative smile as a frown settled on your features. Uh oh, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”

“Where are the things to make the brownies?” you asked and confusion clouded his features. That just confirmed your suspicions that he indeed had not purchased anything that you needed, “did you not get the stuff?”

“W-what stuff?” Javier had been through a lot in his life and dealt with some bad, scary men. But that still didn’t compare to how nervous his pregnant wife made him, “baby?”

“Seriously?” you groaned and threw your hands up in exasperation, “I asked you for one thing and you couldn’t manage it?”

“I don’t remember,” he admitted sheepishly, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“I gave you a list,” you sighed heavily, “as you were leaving this morning. I asked you to stop at the store and pick up the stuff when you picked the kids up.” 

“Oh,” yeah…you had done that. And he had managed to let it slip his mind. He even remembered that he’d taken the list and put in the visor of the car so he’d remember. Which he obviously hadn’t done, “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry, Dulzura.”

“I guess at least you remembered to pick up the kids,” your voice was thick with tears and Javier entered into crisis solving mode. He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “they’re more important.”

“We can get the stuff for brownies tomorrow, yeah?”

“No,” you pouted deeply, crocodile tears welling up, “Lucia needs them for class tomorrow in the morning. I planned on making them tonight so they were fresh in the morning.”

“How about I go and everything now?” he offered and you knew that his response was logical but you really didn’t want to admit it, “and then I’ll bake the brownies.”

“It’s not the same! The stores are going to be closed,” you huffed slightly, “it’s already getting late and oh no. The kids - we should be getting them ready for bed. I don’t want them up too late. I’m a horrible mother.”

“Dulzura,” Javier put his hands on your upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. He would do anything to keep you from crying, to keep the tears from falling down, “it’s okay. It’s still before their bedtime and we can start getting them ready. Once they’re asleep, I can make cookies or something…Lucia will have something to bring to class, yeah? And you are anything but a bad mother. You are a wonderful, amazing, mother - the best.”

“Really?” you perked up at his sweet words and he nodded before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love them so much. And you. All of you.”

“I know, and we love you too,” he whispered, “very, very much. How about you sit down and relax and I’ll put the kids to bed?”

“There’s four of them,” you sniffled softly, “that’s a lot of them! How can I just leave you to do everything?”

And you were crying again but you wrapped your arms around Javi, holding onto him tightly. He rubbed your back gently, softly whispering sweet words of reassurance in your ear. He’d been through this with you enough by now to know that it was a whole lot of hormones talking, “it’s not everything. It’s really not a big deal, I promise. Besides, how many times have you done it alone in the past?”

“B-but-”

“But nothing,” he insisted firmly, and your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry. He was just so sweet and wonderful that it made your heart constrict, “I will handle it this time and you will relax. That is an order.”

“Okay,” you nodded and he kissed you softly, “thank you, Javi.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he smiled and oh. He had the loveliest smile, “they’re not just your kids, they’re ours. And you’re currently growing the last one, and you deserve and need to relax.”

Before you could say anything else, a small pair of arms wrapped your legs. You looked down and found Diego looking at both of you, “you’re a good mom.”

“Yeah?” you asked as Javi picked him and settled him on his hip. Diego was getting a little big to be picked up and carried around easily, but Javier would do it for any one of his kids as long as he could and they were willing, “I think you’re a great kid, Diego. I’m so lucky to be your mom.”

“C’mon,” Javi put his free hand on your lower back and started to guide you to the living room, “you can say good night to the kids and then I’ll get them to bed.”

“They’re such good kids,” your voice almost cracked with emotion and Javi nodded softly in response, “all of them. We’re so lucky.”

“Mhmm,” he watched as the rest of your brood came over to hug you, “and all of us are very lucky to have you.”

“I love you,” you whispered to your husband, “thank you for putting up with all my craziness and all of…this.”

“It’s not putting up with you - I love you. That’s what you do for those you love,” you gave him a sweet smile, “and I happen to love you very, very much Dulzura.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You always wanted Javi. In the metaphorical and very literal sense. You’d always enjoyed a very…healthy sex life with him, but being pregnant made you want him even more. And, you know, that was nothing that Javi would ever complain about.

This particular evening found you waiting for Javier to get home and for the first time in a while, you had the house all to yourself. It might have been some planning on your part, but it wasn’t hard to convince Chucho to take the kids for the night. That man loved spending time with his grandkids, and who were you to deny him? 

As soon as you heard the door opening, you almost ran (as much as you could these days) to the door to greet him. His face lit up when he realized you were right there, and he immediately dropped his bag so he could pull you into a hug, “hey baby.”

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his, hungry and searching, “missed you. Been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” he almost growled at the feeling of your lips on his, “missed you too, Dulzura.”

You continued to kiss him, finding it easy to get lost in him. You started to drag him towards the stairs, feeling your need for him increase with every passing moment, “need you, Javi.”

“W-wait,” he groaned, loath to pull apart from you, “the kids.”

“They’re not here,” you grinned coquettishly, “Pop has them for the night. We don’t need to pick them up until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Seriously?” He loved his kids, he really did. But sometimes having four of them made it hard to get a moment alone with you. And knowing that he had the entire evening alone with you caused him to almost lose it. You nodded and he pulled off his jacket, not even bothering to hang it up, instead tossing it on the floor. He almost growled as he kissed you again, letting his lips trail along your jaw and then down your neck. You made a soft sound and Javi groaned,  before pulling back and looking at you, “you’re going to kill me, Dulzura.”

“Can’t have you dying on me until you fuck me at least one more time,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him up the stairs. Not that he needed any encouragement, he was the one that ended up leading you, “eager, are we?”

“It’s been a long minute since we’ve done this,” he reminded you, “and even longer since we’ve been able to go without any kids around.”

“We still have one around technically,” you teased, rubbing your hand over your bump, and he snorted in amusement, “hey - this is your fault so don’t laugh!”

“It takes two,” he taunted with nothing but fondness lacing his voice, “never heard you complaining before, baby. And last time I checked who was the one that was bad at remembering their birth control?”

“Who could have gotten a vasectomy years ago?” he laughed, loving that you were able to give it all right back to him.  

“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” he threw open the bedroom door and immediately ushered you towards the bed, “it was both of us.”

“Yes - but no regrets,” you insisted and nodded in agreement. You sat down and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling very conscious of what you were wearing. You were in an oversized, old ratty sweater, and some unassuming pajama shorts. It wasn’t anything special and it made you grimace for a moment. Javi seemed to catch and put finger under your chin and turned your face up towards his, “hi.”

“Hi,” he repeated tenderly, “what’s on your mind?”

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me,” his eyebrows raised and you stuck your tongue out at him, “we’ve been together over ten years now. I know you a little better than that.”

“It’s just….look at me,” you pointed at yourself, and he shrugged in confusion, “I just feel…not very sexy. Not that I have to feel that way, but I feel frumpy. Like a sad and frumpy mom.”

“Oh baby,” he got on his knees in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. You offered him a soft smile; getting all emotions; over this hadn’t been part of your plan, “you could be wearing a potato sack and you would still be the most beautiful thing in the world. You are so gorgeous and you don’t even have to try.”

“But I could-”

“But we could be or do a lot of things,” he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, “but I love you just like this. You’re perfect to me. And I couldn’t care less if you were in old pajamas or lingerie or nothing at all. Nothing could make me love you any less. I could only love you more - and I do every day.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed in between your sniffles and a huge grin grew across his face, “why do you always have to be so wonderful? I love you so much, Javier. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” he grinned and leaned up to kiss you, “I mean it though.”

“I know,” you promised, scooting back on the bed and tugging on his arm to pull him along with you, “now touch me. Need you, Javier.”

“I can do that,” he made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt and tossing to the side. He  got on the bed, his legs around yours as he leaned down to kiss you, caging you in between his arms. You felt like you were going to melt into putty at the feel of his lips all over your body. He tugged on the hem of your sweater, “may I?”

“Yes,” you were already breathless as he gently started to pull the fabric up your body, hands gently skimming over your soft skin. Gooseflesh raised with every little bit of his touch and your tummy felt like it was all butterflies. His touch was reverent and tender as he pulled off your sweater and tossed it to the side to join his shirt. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes widened. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbones. You made a small sound of happiness as he leaned back and studied you. His fingertips ghosted over some of the stretch marks you’d acquired over the years. Sometimes they made you feel self conscious but they were there for a good reason. And he always reminded you of that, “every little part of you.”

“So are you,” you put your hand on top of his where it rested on your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand drifted to the waistband of your shorts and he gave them a playful little tug that caused you to snort in amusement, “take ‘em off. Unless you don’t wanna-”

“Never,” he playfully nipped at your neck, causing you to sigh wistfully at the feeling on your delicate skin, “I’d never say no to you. Dulzura.”

“So don’t start now,” you nudged him with your leg, “please.”

“Say no more,” he hooked his fingers in the side of your shorts and pulled them down in one fluid motion, letting them join the growing pile. He inhaled sharply at the sight of you on the bed, bare and looking up at him with soft eyes, “like a work of art.”

“You’re wearing too much,” you playfully frowned, hooking a friend through his belt loop, “lose the pants.”

He chuckled warmly before making quick work of stripping down. You looked at him with dark eyes and a hungry look that caused him to tilt his head to the side in amusement, “can I help you?”

“I think you can,” you feigned innocence as you gently nudged him to the side before straddling his hips. He made a low sound, a guttural thing as his hands found purchase on your hips, "you look like you've got something to say, handsome. What is it, hmm?"

"Fuck me," he whispered in awe as you grinned like the Cheshire cat, "please."

"I can do that," you leaned down to kiss him softly, "with pleasure. I love you, Javi.”

“I love you more, Dulzura.”

[kkcauseway]

It's happening!

Husband Joel Miller & Wife F!reader.

Summary: Joel has a dream that you're pregnant. You've been trying for a while, is this it? Warnings/content: soft Joel, slight touching on infertility- sensitive subject. Lotta fluff. High emotions. Positive pregnancy test. No outbreak, no use of Y/N. A/N: This really is just short and sweet.🫶🏻

Main masterlist I Pregnancy fics

“You ready f’this?” He questions nervously.

“Nope” you spit out popping the p, “are you?” You chuckle.

“In no way shape or form” he chuckles back “ugh why do these damn things take so long s’torture!"

It started with one, then two and now three dots blink back at you in a way you can only describe as literal torture. As you await the verdict.

“Longest three minutes ever huh? It’s probably gonna be negative again anyways” you sigh.

“S’not baby, this is happenin’ trust me v’got a feelin’.” He hates how deflated it makes you feel every time you turn the test over and see the one line or the word negative. Yet something about it all seems different this time.

“Ugh I hate this!” You moan flipping the test upside down before turning to hug into his chest.

He holds you tight as you listen in tune to his heartbeat, his soft breathing calms you quickly.

It’s the same every month, you’ve been trying for just over a year and each time you pray. The second your period is slightly late you gain hope, you’ve been testing religiously, but it’s always negative. So, when Joel woke up this morning saying he’d dreamt you were pregnant you took it as a sign to take one. You aren’t due on for another few days, so it seemed a waste, but something ignited within you. A small glimmer of hope that maybe just maybe it’s going to happen this time? The circumstances are different.

“We got this baby, no matter what happens” he keeps your body close to his. He’s your safe space, where you feel most at ease, your emotions get on top of you easily, but Joel is the best person to help you return to normality. He keeps you grounded. Keeps you sane.

“I know, and I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know” he kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too” you mumble.

You embrace in silence for a moment before you decide to turn back and check. Joel has his arms firm around your waist, and you can feel his heartbeat coordinated with your own as you huff out a long breath shakily reaching out for the test.

Turning the test over, you let out a staggered breath. You both stare down at the small piece of plastic in front of you in awe. Reading the word over and over and over again.

Positive.

Positive.

ITS POSITIVE!

“Holy fuck” Joel whispers.

“Pos- I- it’s positive! Joel… it’s really positive!”

“Oh. My. God!” He laughs wetly.

You throw the test into the sink and jump into his arms holding each other close as you bask in the excitement that it’s really actually FINALLY happening. Your head in his neck as you weep.

After a minute you pull away to look him in the eye “thank you” you move to kiss his lips. “Thank you so much” you kiss him again before looking into his eyes “OH MY GOD, we’re gonna have a baby!”

“Why are you thankin’ me baby? Was a very very fun joint effort.” He chuckles as he kisses your lips once more cupping your cheeks.

“Because you’re just so amazing and you’ve been so patient with me” he chuckles moving his hands to slot into your back jean pockets as you continue “some people fall pregnant right away it’s took us over a year. I was beginning to feel as though my body just couldn’t. That my body would just fail us again and again” your voice breaks.

“Baby” he leans his forehead against yours as you both take a deep breath “never, ever talk bad about yourself like that. Everythin’ happens for a reason and it’s happenin’ now… it’s meant to be now!”

“Gahhh we’re having a baby!” You can’t help the happy tears that begin streaming down your face.

“Yeah, baby we are!” You both chuckle before Joel pushes your body slightly away to place a large palm against your stomach. He strokes gently as you place a hand atop his.

“Our baby” he whispers.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Pavitr x reader where his wife or gf does end up pregnant? Idk maybe one where they find out they are and how they'd react to it, or one where reader has been pregnant a while and they do some...activities.

Canon Events

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: Anxiety, Miguel's Canon Event™ PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnancy anxiety, baby talk!

Pavitr is obviously aged up in this fic

A/N: I'm going to work through my asks a bit to help take my mind off the grief and stress, so I simply had to make this fluffy. I might make a second part to it where it gets spicy, once I feel better.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Wuh-oh." Lyla said, swiping through the pop-up monitors surrounding her tiny yellow frame.

"What is it, Lyla?" Miguel asked, sipping his coffee. His deep chocolate eyes focused on the AI's persona as she squinted at the data.

"New canon event detected, Migs." She said, typing faster than any human could ever fathom.

"Where." He said, immediately setting his coffee down to furrow his brows at her.

Already he could feel his body tense at the news, after what happened with Miles and his canon event, not to mention Miguel's own...

He couldn't handle another mutiny, not when everything had finally been settled back into place, the web repaired and strengthened.

"Whose universe is it? Which one?"

"It's... Pavitr's." Lyla said, her eyebrows rising considerably behind her heart-shaped glasses.

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great. What horrible situation did fate have in plan for that particular Spider-Man, now? His Aunty Maya dying? One of his friends? You?

He knew Pavitr understood the importance of canon events, but...

"How bad?"

"Actually it's..." Lyla let out a startled chuckle, tipping her head to grin at Miguel with her crooked teeth. "It's... well, okay, depending on your point of view it could be good or bad, but I think Pavitr might consider this a good one--"

"Lyla..." He sighed, tapping his foot.

"Alright, alright big guy, don't get your panties in a twist." She snorted, "Pulling it up now."

Miguel turned his thick frame to peer at the hologram as an image of you materialized behind him.

It looked like you were in some kind of doctor's office. Judging by the pictures on the wall, some sort of women's health center.

He squinted at the posters, every inch of the room, until his eyes finally focused on you, holding papers in your hand, shaking, the gold band on your ring finger catching the lights above and glinting a little too brightly for his eyes.

Miguel slowly began to circle your image as you read the papers. Your face looked cold and clammy, a bead of sweat trickled down your brow.

Cancer? No, no, Lyla said this was good news, for once.

So, what...

His brows shot up, the creases in his tanned skin deepening as he leaned in to peer over your shoulder at the paperwork.

He rapidly scanned each word. Your flu tests came back negative, no allergens to report, no life-threatening diseases...

But the blood results are what intrigued him.

Estrogen levels were elevated...

As were prolactin and progesterone levels.

Miguel had to step back and let his jaw go slack as he looked at you, holding the papers that, printed at the bottom...

Reported a strong, tiny little heartbeat.

You were pregnant. And judging by the levels of hormones in your system, you were halfway through your first trimester.

He watched as your eyes welled up, fat tears burning hot as they broke over the dam of your lashes, dripping down your cheeks. Your doctor handed you some tissues and rubbed your back, smiling sweetly as she calmed you down.

"I know, I know, honey. It's overwhelming... Just breathe." She coos.

You wipe at your eyes and take a few shaky breaths. "I just... I'm sorry, it's hard to control it all. Ugh, I've been wondering why I've been so moody lately, but my period was late!"

"Mhmm... hormones will do that to a mama." She says patiently. "What will you tell your husband?"

"I think--"

Miguel raised his hand to Lyla to stop the hologram. This was something deeply personal, and it didn't sit right in his gut about this, that he found out before Pavitr...

He pulled up his gizmo and pulled up Pavitr's frequency, his fingers moving a little too fast so he had to backtrack a couple of times.

Finally, the voice to the chipper, younger hero came through.

"Hi, boss! Uh... What's up?" He said awkwardly.

"Go home, Pavitr, I'm assigning someone else to your workload." He said, his tone a bit softer than usual.

"I--whuh--huh?" He could hear the bewilderment in the man's voice as he stammered for a reply.

"Just go home, Pavitr. That's an order."

"I... Eh. Uh. O-okay?"

Miguel sighed as he terminated the connection.

He hoped Pavitr was ready for this.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Heee-llo my beautiful wife!" Pavitr called out, dropping his duffel by the door, a bit of a pep in his step as he walked through your apartment to look for you.

Pavitr called your name once or twice, and his brows creased with worry when you didn't respond. Were you out? No... No. Your shoes were by the front door.

He spotted you, sitting at the island in your kitchen, a cup of hot chai in your delicate hands.

You giggled softly as he kissed your shoulder and cheek on excessive pecks and loud "mwah's" before dropping his chin onto your shoulder.

He looked at your social media feed (actually it was some kind of forum that you quickly closed) and chirped, "Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh, just... stuff." You say evasively, squirming in your seat.

"Oh? What kinda stuff?"

"Oh, I..." You say, splaying your hands over an envelope. The logo on the sticker was from your usual doctor's office, and his brows pinched in concern.

"Sweetheart, what's up? You said you had a doctor's appointment today. Is everything okay?"

"W-Well, I... I mean..." You swallow thickly. "It's... I-I mean..."

"Are you okay???" He spun your stool around to hold your shoulders, his big dark eyes wide with concern for you as he scanned your face for any signs of... anything.

"I..." You cast a glance back at the envelope. The words felt like cotton in a dry mouth, choking and unable to utter.

Why were you so nervous about this? You talked about this together, brainstormed the "what-ifs" a million times during late nights, limbs tangled as sweat cooled on your bodies beneath the sheets.

You knew Pavitr would never be... angry about this. With you.

So why was there a nasty pit in the deepest part of your stomach right now?

Pavitr looked at the envelope, and slowly reached out for it, waiting for you to tell him to stop or if you were uncomfortable.

You wrung your fingers together and chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously as you watched him read your papers, mumbling about how everything looked okay.

But...

Then his eyes got to the last page. Your pregnancy test results.

He lifted the paper--almost comically--close to his face.

For agonizing milliseconds that felt like ages, the papers hid his face from view. All you could see was how he trembled, his fists clenching around the paper.

Finally, he lowered them, and those big, beautiful, dark eyes were glistening with tears and his lip was wobbling.

"I'm l--I'm--I'm gonna be a dad?" He blubbered near-incoherently.

"Y.... yes." You peep.

The papers were immediately forgotten as he buried his face into your chest and full-on started to ugly cry, babbling about how much he loved you and how happy he was.

Why on Earth were you ever afraid of how he'd react to the news?

You sniffled and hiccuped, his high emotional rollercoaster hitting you, too.

Immediately, he lifted his snot-covered, tear-stained face to look up at you, and his hands went to your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

"Hey, hey, hey! I love you! I love you so so so so so so so--"

"Pav..." You sniffed.

"Right, right." He muttered lifting his head to look down the hall. The room you two had turned into a room for your sewing projects was across the hall from your room. A little small, compared to yours, but...

"So if we can move stuff around, your machine can come out here, then we can put the crib in there..."

You blink dumbly at him.

"W... wait so you... You're serious? About.... about this?"

Pavitr turns to you with a grin, grabbing a paper napkin from the counter and completely cleaning his face, taking a fresh one and dabbing your tears away.

He kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips.

Pavitr's hands moved low, pressing over your belly ever so gently. His eyes flicked up to yours once again.

"You and this... our little baby, are the most important things in my life." He swears. "I'm never going to back out on either of you."

He kisses you on the lips one more time, pulling away enough to touch your cheek, a grin on his charming, handsome face.

"So! Wanna look at baby stuff online? We can order takeout and chill!"

You didn't know why you were ever worried in the first place.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Omg omg omg I almost missed the ask box being open! First of all though: thank you ever so much for all your hard work.

My question is this: I really like Mpreg fics. And I remember reading one where Derek thought Stiles rejected him and the baby. Only Stiles didn't even know male werewolves could get pregnant. I can find fics with this trope where it's Stiles who is pregnant but not the other way around

I think so!

Naps are nature’s way of reminding you that life is nice by FicLogia

(1/1 I 3,033 I General)

Melissa puts the patient chart away and comes closer to the omega. “It’s normal to change your mind. Especially for someone in your position.” Young, unmated, barely graduated. The omega ob-gyn has seen it one too many times.

Derek shakes his head, runs a hand over the arc of his belly, relishing the feel of it, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “I want this baby. We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Little Dash Of Pink by AsagiStilinski

(1/1 I 4,790 I Teen)

Derek always thought those stories he heard about male pregnancies in his family were just old wives' tales and bad jokes

Suddenly, that's no longer true, and he's not too sure how to tell his husband

ay it out loud, love by pineneedlepants

(4/? I 29,137 I Teen)

When Derek first finds out, it's a rainy thursday that reflects his mood perfectly. He's been oddly dizzy lately, with bouts of nausea that don't make any sense to him, and he's pretty sure he's never slept as much as he is now, not even as a carefree teenager. He thumps his forehead gently against the table top, willing the water he drank not five minutes ago to stay down. He's rubbing his head on the wooden surface when he hears it.

There's a soft thump thu-thump coming from somewhere near him. He lifts his head slowly, as not to make the world spin and tries to concentrate where the soft beat is coming from. Because it couldn't possibly be -

Derek cannot be -

With growing horror, he directs his eyes downwards, to his slightly softened belly. His hands have stilled on his skin, trembling lightly. The soft thump thu-thump comes again, and again, and again, the sound getting louder with each soft flutter, until the pulse matches Derek's own. It's almost mesmerizing, a beautiful cadence that flutters in and out of rhythm of Derek's own heartbeat. --

Or the one where there's a misunderstanding of the century, a little angst, a surprise baby and a deliriously happy ending.

A Legend of a Lonely Boy by bunnymaccool

(1/1 I 42,991 I Explicit)

Peter Hale managed to climb his way back up from death only long enough to do one, terrible, horrible thing. It was enough to accomplish his goal. To leave a legacy. Two months after killing his uncle for the second time, Derek is feeling sick and weak, heavy in his own body. What Deaton is telling him should be impossible... but...

There is a werewolf legend. About unmated alpha who desperately desired to have heirs, so he studied the moon and the stars in such great depth that he discovered a secret. On the night of the full moon, when the stars aligned just so … he could plant his pups into whatever body he desired. Regardless of species, regardless of gender.

The danger is this ... werewolves are not meant to carry pups alone. They need someone to guide them, love them, protect them during this time of vulnerability. A partner. A mate. But Derek Hale has none of these things. He has no one. If he and his pup are going to survive, he may just have to follow the ridiculous suggestion Deaton puts forth. The completely annoying, loud-mouthed, pain in his ass suggestion that makes Derek want to rip someone's throat out. With his teeth.

Through the Dark by WriteByNight

(11/35 I 93,401 I Explicit)

Stiles is down on his luck and out of money, just trying to finish his last year of college. Out of ideas, he goes to donate his sperm and meets Derek Hale, who is looking for a surrogate to carry his and his infertile girlfriend's baby. Stiles is instantly attracted to the alpha werewolf, but pushes his feelings to the side in order to fulfill Derek's dream for children.

Derek and Stiles grow close, but try to deny the feelings growing for one another because as soon as the pregnancy is over Stiles will have to give the baby over to Derek and Braeden, and walk out of their lives. However, the closer he gets to his due date, the harder it is to come to terms that he'll have to let go of the man he's come to love.

[justjams2003]

Between Two Gods: 1-Public Display

This is highly inspired by @oh-for-fic-sake's work which I have been binge reading recently on my second blog. Now, I am a firm believer that the MCU and DCEU should not mix. They don't belong together. But this idea just had me salivating and I'd do anything for good smut. If you'd like a prequel or sequel, I'd be happy to oblige. If there even are still people who read a/b/o fics, other than myself.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x reader x Clark Kent

Summary: While you and your mates are at the knot-friendly beach, you can't help but want to get frisky.

Warnings: threesome, mxm, fxm, mxfxm, p in v, semi-blowjob, a/b/o, knotting, meantions of heats and rutting, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, mixing of universes, talk about pregnancy (but no actual pregnancy), afab reader, no mention of skin colour or weight. If there are any more please do tell.

Word count: 2,7k

You’re not sure how exactly you ended up in this situation. You’re the most envied woman on the planet. Gossip blogs, and news articles were all over you. The first mate of two in thousands of years. And not any two either, mated to the two strongest alphas on the planet, and beyond. Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, prince of the nine realms. And Superman, the God amongst men.

Not everyone knew about Superman, everyone did know about Clark Kent. Mated to one of the most famous journalists and the God of Thunder? All to this young twenty-year-old girl. It was a shock to be sure and you can’t help but drink up every moment of it.

Even now, as you relax on the omega/alpha beach you can’t help but love every second of it. Thor, as usual, has gone off to make friends. His beautiful long blonde sand colour hair sways in the win as he jumps to slam the volleyball back up in the air. His stomach muscles strain and you can’t help but feel yourself get hot and heavy.

“You enjoying the view?” Clark asks with a smirk pulling you closer to his side. “I’m sure he can smell you from all the way over there.” You smirk, leaning into to him. “And you’re telling me you aren’t enjoying his preening too?” The man of steel chuckles.

“How can I not? I’ve got the prettiest omega in the world stuck to my side with another alpha who loves fucking her with me.” You smirk, pushing one of his legs between your own and grinding his knee against your slit, begging for some sort of friction. “Speaking of fucking...”

You can hear him groan and roll his eyes. You can’t help but smirk at his reaction and pull yourself closer to him. Slotting your nose against his neck, scenting his smile and Thor’s own mark on the man of steel. Licking and nipping at that very same sensitive spot. You can tell Clark is struggling with his own mind, his hand gripping tighter to your ass.

“Omega, you’re testing me...” he mutters, trying to keep his composure and tune out your mewling noises. Or the fact that these already small swim shorts get even smaller. Tighter and tighter every time that you lick and suck on those sensitive nerves of his.

“It's a knot-friendly beach, no one here would care. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’d even enjoy the show.” You whisper into his ear, making small circles on his chest and then trailing lower. “Yes, everyone else on the planet too. I’m not exactly keen on having my cock plastered on the daily planet.”

You groan out, then see Thor very well heard how frustrated you are and you’re sure smell it too. “Fine, I’ll ask Thor then.” You huff, going to stand and give him the best puppy eyes you could. You know very well he’d do it in a heartbeat. Public knotting isn’t just normal on Asgard but smiled upon. Even done to boost morale.

You remember how strange he found it. When you and Clark met him for the first time, seeking him out after the attack on New York, you had gone into immediate heat. Sending both the boy into a rut. Thor insisted on taking you there and then, but with much, much self-control from Kal, you three managed to make it back to you and Clark’s farmhouse.

Kal grabs you by your wrist, he knows if your go to Thor he’ll make a big spectacle of it. Everyone will be involved and invited to watch. If he does it perhaps it can happen more quietly. He grabs you by the back of your neck, he himself sitting more upright. He pulls you in close and whispers in your ear.

“You want to be fucked?” He asks, knowing the answer, he can smell the answer from you. You smirked, biting your lip and giving a curt nod. He also smirks and lays back down on his beach chair. He tilts his head to his growing cock and nods. You gasp out with a wide smile, “You mean it?” He smiles and nods again.

“This is a knot-friendly beach. Nothing done here should be new or even considered publish-worthy.” He shrugs, more so reasoning with himself than with you. He loves seeing his little omega so excited. You reach down his shorts and allow his massive cock to spring free from its imprisonment.

You can already see his bright blue irises turning an intoxicating black-blue colour. Like that in which the creepiest sea creatures drift in the fast ocean. A colour you and Thor both like to call sex-blue. Thor also had his very own variation of sex-blue.

The pre-cum leaks from his throbbing, red and sensitive tip. Like a kitten, you lap it up with your cute pink tongue. From the very top down to the base of his hairy abdomen. He watches your every move. Like a starving child, you lick every inch of him, wetting him with your own spit.

Then you move his legs in between your knees. You pull on the green bows tying your bikini bottom together. Clark's eyes consume every inch of you, watching the small cloth fall and reveal your mound. “See? I told you and Thor there is a good reason for me to wear these.” You giggle, rubbing your slit against his base.

“So, this was planned all along?” He grunts out, grabbing you by the hips and lining your body up with his. You can’t even reply before he spears you, filling you up from the inside. All that you can let out is a yelp and then a loud moan. He too throws his head back with a groan.

“I can’t ever get over how tight you are, perfectly moulded, huh?” He allows you to get comfortable. And then lifts you back up and down on his huge cock. You throw your head back, it was always such a new feeling to you. One you crave far more often than you cared to admit.

Thor’s senses were going crazy. He can smell the arousal from you and from Clark. He loves it and if he could bathe in the smell he would. In fact at home, he even tried to. Every chance he has, he gathers both of you in the nest you made and fucks the both of you silly. Then after he tries to soak up as much of the scent as he can.

And now he’s sure every other person here can smell it, but none are covered in it like he is. None can join anytime they want as he can. He just loves it. But Thor is smart, maybe not smart like Tony or Bruce. Yet he knows the game his other Alpha is getting at. He also knows what his Omega is getting at.

You want everyone to know and Clark rather keep you both all to himself. But that’s what the older Alpha is there for, to satisfy both of your needs. “My, my, my, what do we have here?” His voice is deep and low and your walls seem to clench tight at his deep dominant voice.

Thor notices instantly, he knows he has that effect on you both. Clark pulls you deeper into him. He barely even notices the other Alpha there, his own instincts flooding him with lust and nothing else. Privacy seems to be at the very back of his mind right now.

“Everyone can smell you two, all wet and sticky. Being fucked silly.” You let out a loud moan at his words and the God can’t help but chuckle. Then he attaches his lips to yours. Dominating your tongue and swallowing your moans. “You like that, huh? Do you like everyone watching you? Such a slut.”

He grabs you by your neck and whispers in your ear. His other hand cupping your tit through the neon green bikini. He twists and he pulls on your covered nipple. Lapping up your mouth. He loves the thrill of knowing that his words only make you bounce faster on Clark’s cock.

“You hear that, my pretty boy, she likes everyone seeing you fuck her silly. Fucking her so good.” Thor bends down low, whispering in Kal’s ear. Sticking his nose into his neck and pulling the scent from his mark. To everyone out there in Metropolis, Superman is the man.

He’s the one who gives orders and doesn’t take shit from the government. He’s the one in charge, saving lives and calling the shots. He’s the one strong enough to carry the weight on his shoulders. But at home, he plays an entirely different role. At home, he’s Thor’s pretty boy.

Clark comes home to an Omega, ready to be coddled and scented all over. To let his frustrations out. Someone who will gladly listen to him and sit when he asks and spreads when he asks. And then his own Alpha comes home. Coddles the both of them and tells him what a good job he did, taking care of their Omega.

Someone to praise and someone to praise him. The perfect dynamic, for you too. Easily filled and by the time your next heat comes around, you’ll be off the pills and pupped up before you know it. At least that is what both the boys are hoping for, they work hard every day to convince you of it... You’ve been a bit hesitant so far.

Though right now that’s far from where Clark’s focussed. Right now all he can think about is Thor buttering him up real good. “Look at that, she’s pulling you in with that delicious pussy of her’s” He forces his eyes open, forcing him to look, knowing it’ll bring him to the edge.

That it does, the man takes you by the hips and flips you over on your back. Fast enough that you only notice that he’s deeper inside you. Thor can help himself, he can’t help but reach down and rub your sensitive clit. Red and pulsing, begging for attention.

That’s enough to bring you over the edge, your legs shake and your walls clench around him. Clark can’t help but watch you pour out around him. Clenching and pulling all at the same time. This too pushes him further, he latches his lips onto yours.

The man of steel can feel himself growing bigger and bigger. He can feel himself forming around you. Pushing himself deeper, until he can feel himself right up close to your cervix. He is finally thrown overboard when Thor grabs him by the neck and gives him a sloppy deep kiss.

You can feel his hot seed pour into you. Like the first hot water to hit your back at the start of a shower. Overcoming and overbearing. Nothing else is there but the two Alphas. One deep inside you, pumping his hot seed into you and the other one throat deep into that same Alpha.

That is until the high begins to fall and you notice the crowd that had formed. Whispers going around, “Look at how big he is!” “How does that even fit?” “If I were her I’d be ripped open.” Clark can’t help but peacock at their shock. Pushing further into you as his hot cum fills you.

His knot is still big, even after the high has worn off. He’s not even sweaty or out of breath! You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to keep up with them. As your chest is heaving, your legs feel numb and shaky. You feel so full and pressed and pulled.

“It seems we’ve got a crowd.” You try to giggle but you’re still chasing after your breath. “Yes, even after I tried so hard to avoid it.” He groans, pushing out his last few pumps of cum before his knot finally calms down. Until he can finally pull out of you, drinking up the way that cum just pours out of you.

“Is this you avoiding a crowd?” You can’t help but chuckle at him. His hands are quick to swat at your ass. “Hey, little miss, this was your idea. Don’t get snippy with me.” He commands, pulling his soft dick back into his swim shorts.

Finally, Thor stands back up but your eyes grow wide. His shorts also have a massive tent, not to mention soaking wet with what you can smell as pre-cum. The God of Thunder knows good and well that Clark would like to get out of this without anyone knowing it's him.

This omega of theirs is bring out a much wilder side to him. Thor gives Clark another sloppy, wet kiss. “Go on, get us some drinks. Anyone asks or takes any photos you bring them to me, got it?” He nods, his cheeks red and flushed, from pride, embarrassment and excitement all bundled into one. "I’ll take care of them.”

And with that Clark gave you a kiss and was jumping to follow his orders. Thor stands in front of you, covering you with his body. His colossal cock is hard to miss. Seeming needy and ready for only one thing. His stature is huge, standing more than 5cm taller than their Superman.

The God of Thunder and the prince of the nine realms bares his teeth and growls at the people gawking. The same way he would when addressing his people. When commanding his military force, when charging into battle. It’s an Alpha command, one not even Kal-El can dismiss. Simple and clear. Leave and forget who you saw.

Not a single one disobeyed. They all drag their feet and most of the Alphas hang their head low. Each and every one of them baring their neck. He turns back to you, he sees you soaking all over again. “You like that, little omega? Does my little princess like me having to command all these people, all these Alphas, to stop gawking?”

He pulls you closer by your feet. Scenting his and Clark’s mark on your neck. Licking and sucking all the spots he knows so well. “To stop staring at this beautiful pussy. At what’s mine?” You bare your neck, knowing you’re going to get one hell of a punishment for manipulating Clark like that.

“Why don’t I throw you over my shoulder? Parade you around town, since you want everyone to look.” You gasp, he wouldn’t! He chuckles at your reaction. “I don’t think my pretty boy would like that very much and he’s not the one being punished here.” You bite your lip, he knows that you know what you did.

Just then Clark returns with the drinks. Thor smiles at him, tying the strings of your bikini back up again and picking you up. He places you down on your feet, “Go, clean yourself off while the Alpha’s talk, yeah?” He gives you a light smack on your bottom. You know defying will only worsen your situation. You jump and scurry off.

Thor smirks and pulls Clark into his lap. Grabbing the drink and taking a long sip. Superman can feel his Alpha’s dick on his back. Huge and heavy. He can feel him scenting his mark and growing even bigger. “So mean of that little one, huh? Using you like this...”

He trails off, pulling Clark just a bit closer and grinding into his ass. “I might just do the same. Just look at what you do to me...” Kal can’t help but moan and lean into Thor at the thought. His chuckle is dark and ruthless. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can feel it.”

Thor’s hands wander, groping Clark's wet and semi-hard cock. “It’s okay pretty boy, we won’t do that, not yet anyways. Considering that that little one needs a punishment. You can choose after all.” They both can help but grin at the thought, watching as your soaking body walks across the sand.

[drarryruinedme7]

hello, im actually really nervous because i am just starting to get involved with the drarry fandom. im trying to write a fic but it's my very first one. it has an accidental blood bind AND harry as a healer. in other fics it's usually draco as the healer so i thought it would be fun to switch it up. i just wanted to tell someone because i'm so excited!!! they make me so happy.

Hello nonnie! Good for you! I'm glad , always glad, to see someone new in the fandom, we need novelty, we need to not let our marvelous Drarry fandom die !

I love Healer Harry and you're right, there's never enough. But in the meantime, you gave me the idea to rec some of my faves (that might inspire you, who knows!) Good luck with it and make sure to let me know when it's posted, I'd love to read it :)

Nothing but a Heartbeat by maraudersaffair (E; 1.5k; 2018)

Summary: After Draco is attacked by a werewolf, Harry attempts to help him. Too bad Draco wants to eat him whole.

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune by secretsalex (E; 3.1k; 2017; mpreg)

Summary: if Astoria refuses to carry their child, Draco will—which is how he finds himself alone, pregnant, and a patient of Healer Potter’s.

Show Me My Options by unadulteredstorycollector (T; 5.6k; 2018)

Summary: Harry is currently training to be a Healer, which is going great! Except then suddenly the lecturer mentions male pregnancy and Harry is very, very confused. And unfortunately there's only one person who can explain it to him.

Constellations on your skin by @orange-peony (E; 56.4k; 2022)

Summary: “I’m going to get my scars removed,” Draco announces on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.

“Who are you seeing?” Blaise asks.

“The best Healer out there,” Draco replies with a little shrug. “Harry Potter.”

Fire Meet Gasoline by @lettersbyelise (E; 62.6k; 2022)

Summary: When Draco’s anger management issues land him in St Mungo’s, he thinks his Quidditch career is over. But Harry, A&E Healer and notorious workaholic, is faced with a similar predicament. To save their jobs, the two of them decide to fake a relationship. All they have to do is convince their friends and employers… and not fall in love in the process. Simple, right?

[chaosnojutsu]

good morning!! I see your backstory ask post and I would love to hear more about the bridgerton AU or extraordinary love!! Whatever you want to say about them. they are faves of mine!! ❤️ thank youuuuuuu

You get both as I try to decide if I can swing something for Shikatema month and prep for Nejiten month! Perfect timing, I actually just re-read these two last night looking for inspiration!

ask about the backstory for one of my fics!

send shivers down my spines: I wrote all the Nejiten story and separately wrote all of Lady Whistledown as one cohesive letter, and then decided where I wanted to place each of her gossipy interjections. That was neat to explore as a writing device because I had room to expand upon the world and add a little more flavor (like detailing Naruhina’s relationship and my obligatory background Shikatema mention) without feeling like I had to do it all from Tenten’s POV, which would have detracted from the core of this story: Tenten being horny for Neji.

Another fun part of writing this was casting what role each character would play! Coding Neji as Simon was easy — deciding to split Daphne between Tenten and Hinata then seemed natural; the premise of having sex in the library comes from Daphne and Simon, but it felt disingenuous to her character for Tenten to be the diamond of the season. My personal favorite analog is Tsunade and Queen Charlotte, which also felt like a duh decision given their roles in society, but I liked the nod to Tenten wanting to impress Tsunade.

I solemnly swear to never refer to Tenten’s junk as “nethers” again lmao. I usually can’t stand that one, but it felt appropriate for the piece. And I can’t talk about this fic without bringing up the dom Neji agenda! Who’s going to tell the head of the house he can’t give head anywhere he wants in his house?? Definitely not Tenten, and apparently not any of their house staff. I’ve spent some time considering what a dom Neji might look like since your initial comment on the fic, so he might make a stronger appearance in another work — yay and thanks for putting the bug in my ear!

extraordinary love: “Temari knows damn well why a stupid social construct like her nonexistent virginity matters. Back in the day of arranged marriages, the whole thing was more of a business deal. The wannabe groom would have to pay more to his bride’s family in exchange for her hand in marriage if she was pure. Virgin brides from influential families were high dollar items. Temari’s family is influential enough. But now that the matter of virginity is off the table… this barter is looking more like the Sand seeking retribution against the Leaf than tit for tat. If her marriage is blessed, they’ll probably stipulate Shikamaru move to Suna instead of the opposite, which is not what Temari and Shikamaru decided on. In the most drastic worst case scenario, like Kankuro said, their engagement (or the knowledge that said engagement has been consummated on a number of occasions) might be seen as an act of war. They’ll stick Shikamaru’s stupid, handsome face in a bingo book with shoot to kill orders.”

This premise is the heartbeat of the story. What does it look like when your personal values don’t align with those of everyone else around you? How do we respond when well-intended people stick their nose in our business and give an opinion we never asked for? Combined with fan theories/headcanons that Shikadai was a pre-wedding pregnancy — and that’s an interesting concept to me, especially considering what that might have looked like for Temari and Shikamaru if they were still long distance or abruptly decided not to be (and the parallel to Mirai and Kurenai and Asuma, of course, which I didn’t hit in this story because Temari wasn’t actually pregnant) — everything fell into place.

Making the call to write from Temari’s POV was exciting but scary because she’s so Particular, you know? But this story needed to come from her because of what it is, and it’s about Temari’s agency: she gets to decide who she marries, and whose baby she has, and she gets to decide when those things happen. And then I got to actually write her being in love (which I’m eager to try again), and I love the energy of Temari being like “Look how impressive my fiancé is! I made a good choice! I’m trying really hard to make you approve of him!” and Shikamaru being like “Yeah, what she said!” Because Shikamaru understands that as far as Suna’s customs and culture go, he doesn’t have a dog in that race, he IS Temari’s underdog in the race.

I’m honestly proud of this fic because I know I just made it sound really serious in terms of themes etc., but it ultimately is a comedy, and anyone who has ever done comedy can speak to how difficult of a skill it is to learn and hone. One of the things that makes comedy work well is that the characters have to take everything seriously and respond sincerely, now matter how ridiculous or grandiose their circumstances or responses may be. Temari even says from the beginning of this story that she knows she has the Kazekage on her side, but she panics a little because of her circumstances and takes matters into her own hands, and she doesn’t relinquish that control until shenanigans have ensued and Gaara finally reminds his sister that his support of her was never in question. (I’m not sure how I feel about my iterations of Gaara and Kankuro individually or overall, but I do like their scenes with Temari as siblings and their consistency.)

Side note: the reception of this story gave me the confidence to write chapter 15 of Reliance the way it panned out!

(also, I’m late, what’s new, lesbian nejiten is coming i promise)