#my heart is telling me it’s the second one

[multific]

Of Dog Tags and Love Letters

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon Riley never says “I love you” out loud. Instead, he writes letters, letters you were never meant to find.

Simon wasn’t the kind of man who said “I love you” easily.

He showed it instead.

He showed it in the way he pulled you close at night, in the way his hand always rested on the small of your back in public, in the way he made sure you always walked on the safer inside of the sidewalk.

His love wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was steady, always there.

Still, you wanted to hear it.

Just once.

Just once you wanted to hear him say it.

Simon had been gone on a mission for a few weeks.

You missed him, missed the way the house felt different when he was home.

Tonight, the quiet felt heavier than usual.

That’s what led you to the room, sitting on the bed, fidgeting with his dog tags.

That’s when you found them.

A small metal box, tucked away beneath an old shirt. You were trying to find a shirt which still smelled like him.

Inside the box, there were letters.

Dozens of them, all folded neatly, your name written on each one.

Your stomach flipped as you picked one up, your fingers shaking slightly as you unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was rough and rushed.

But it was undeniably his.

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.

Your breathing stopped, but you kept reading.

I don’t say things the way I should. Never have. But you should know… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the reason I want to come back in one piece. If I don’t... just know that I love you. Always have, always will.

Your chest ached as you grabbed another letter.

It was the same.

So was the next.

You looked at the dates. Every letter is written before a mission.

Every single one, carrying the words he never said to your face.

I love you.

All of them, filled with meaning and care. All of them are written from the heart.

You pressed them to your chest, blinking back tears.

Three days later, he was home.

The second he walked through the door, you didn’t wait. You crashed into him, arms wrapped tight around his middle.

He let out a small grunt of surprise. “What’s all this then?”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

He huffed a quiet laugh, arms circling around you. “Good to see you too, Love.”

You pulled back, searching his tired eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon’s body tensed. “Tell you what?”

You lifted your chin. “About the letters.”

His whole body went still.

“…You found them.” His voice was quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah. And I had to find out from some scraps of paper that you truly love me?”

His jaw flexed like he was bracing for something. “I didn’t think I’d ever—” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not easy for me.”

“I don’t care if it’s easy,” you shot back, stepping closer to him. “Do you think this is easy for me? Waiting? Wondering if you’ll come home?” Your voice cracked. “Wondering if I’ll ever get to tell you—”

You stopped yourself, swallowing hard.

Simon’s eyes softened. “Tell me what?”

You exhaled. “That I love you too, you idiot.”

His breath hitched.

Then, before you could say anything else, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. His touch was warm, and grounding.

“Say it again,” he whispered, begged.

A smile tugged at your lips. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I love you.”

His eyes closed, and he let out a slow breath like he was letting himself believe it. When he spoke again, his voice was deep, barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

And this time, he didn’t need a letter to say it.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][fingering][passionate][ex!fwb][quiet reader][slight breeding kink][light choking][hair pulling][quiet sex][no nudity][nipple play][nipple sucking][promise of pregnancy][low-key right person; wrong time][not proofread because my beta reader's asleep]

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?!"

Dick's voice is low, frustration bleeding into his words and his fingertips dig into his palms, blunt nails leaving crescent indentations in the flesh as he stares down at you.

The worst part is, you look so fucking nonchalant about it too.

Sitting crossed legged on the couch, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in your hands and a plate of cookies resting on the surface of the coffee table. The TV plays one of the older episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and God, the sight of you so relaxed while watching trashy TV makes Dick falter in his anger.

"How do you know he's yours or even mine?"

You speak, your voice soft and gentle, despite the way your eyes burn with annoyance at the fact that Dick's just.... Standing there, in your space, his suit clinging to him like a second skin in the way it always has.

Dick leans forward, his breath fanning across the surface of your face and he gives you the opportunity to see the stormy rage that swirls in brilliant blue irises, darkened by the sense of betrayal at the fact that you've kept his son from him for so long.

"Because he looks like me. He looks fucking just. Like. Me." Dick grits the words out like they're liquid sulphur, burning his throat on the way out.

Before he lets out a breath, dropping onto the seat beside you and he cards a gloved hand through his hair.

"And he told me I look.... Romani. And proceeded to call me a 'gypsy bastard'."

Your apartment looks different from when he was here last.

Warm, pale blue walls, a dark leather sofa and a bigger TV mounted on the wall. Fuzzy blue throw pillows and the bowl of fruity gummies on the coffee table is a fun new addition, just like the drawings that line the walls of the living room, and clutter on top of the fridge.

On each drawing, Dick can make out the scribbled out 'Mommy And Me', usually in a colour that has no match in the palette and he can't deny the heaviness in his heart when he reads that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick speaks softly, hands moving to carefully remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the coffee table and he grabs one of the throw pillows, resting it on his face.

You can practically smell his emotions.

Confused, hurt, betrayed. Frustration's a big one though, and you purse your lips.

"I didn't wanna have the 'is it mine' conversation."

You speak so softly, so sweetly and it reminds Dick of how much motherhood's softened you. It reminds him of the way that you'd have pushed him out the window for showing up unannounced, but instead, you're letting him sit on your couch, and you talk.

Not argue.

You just... Talk.

"I'd know he was mine." Dick murmurs. "We were... Exclusive."

The way Dick says it makes you feel like it was more than just occasional hookups, more than the odd movie date that ended with your ankles touching your ears.

The silence between you is comfortable.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dropping against your aluminium window, pot plants on the terrace watered so gently and the TV continues to play, although at a much softer pace.

Dick lowers the pillow, looking at you with big, almost teary blue eyes. Eyes framed by long, inky lashes, full brows and striking hues that make you feel like your breath is dying in your throat with every passing second.

"He's beautiful."

Dick's voice is soft.

"A little bit of an asshole, but he's beautiful."

Before you can answer, before you can even fathom properly what Dick's saying, you hear the crack of a door and the shuffle of tiny feet as Riot stumbles into the living room, fists balled and rubbing at his eyes.

"Mommy, my eye." He sniffles, continuing to scratch at his eye before you let out a quiet hum, your hands hooking underneath the little boy's armpits before you tug him onto your lap.

And you open his eye, the sclera just a bit red and you hum softly.

"Dickie, can you put on the light, please?"

Dick doesn't question the nickname, because it makes his heart swell in a way that has him internally screeching, even as he reaches for the overhead lamp and switches it on.

And your lips purse as you blow on Riot's eye, watching the way his lashes flutter and his eyelid twitches before a teary droplet plops down his cheek.

And you wipe it away, feeling the distinct strand of cat fur against the pad of your thumb.

"We don't even own a cat." You mumble, before using your index knuckle to wipe the watery eye.

"All better?" You muse softly and Riot nods his head, before glancing at Dick with sleepy eyes, lashes fluttering even as he clambers across your lap, and into Dick's.

And his tiny arms wrap around as much of Dick's midsection as he can, his chubby and rosy cheek pressed against Dick's chest.

And the man's expression crumples.

Brows twitch and eyes begin to sting as one of his long fingered hands move to rest on Riot's back, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas through the glove. And Riot lets out a content sigh.

"Deadbeat gypsy." The words are muffled, but they're audible enough for Dick's lips to part in shock, brows raising before letting out a bark of laughter.

Before he glances at you.

"He's just like you." Dick murmurs, before watching as Riot climbs from his lap, and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

There's a still silence in the air, only filled by the sound of Kim's voice and rain droplets crashing down outside before Dick clears his throat.

"My— uh...— my patrol ended early." He murmurs softly.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

The way you're slot under Dick's bicep, your head against his chest and your legs tossed across his lap makes him feel 4 seconds away from crashing out. Because God, you're so warm and so much softer.

Dick stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his side as you snuggle closer, before ultimately decided to pull the quilt over the both of you.

Your eyes remain glued to the TV, occasionally letting out snorts of laughter as you watch Grown Ups for what you could guess would be the 60th time on your lifetime.

But you can feel Dick's eyes.

Following the curve of your face, watching the way your lashes fan out and watching the way breaths leave your soft, glossy lips. And before Dick can even fathom it, his arm behind you is shifting, hand moving to wrap around your neck, long fingers stretching effortlessly and he brushes his thumb along your pulse, the action causing your head to tilt up and you meet his gaze.

And Dick's lips are pressed against yours, his fingers twitching against your neck before leaving the column of your throat, instead, shifting until you're resting back against the sofa.

You can't refuse. Well shit, you don't want to refuse.

Dick's kissing you like he's dying tomorrow. Lips pressed against yours, his hips nestled between your thighs and his arm moving to support his weight, elbow braced on the armrest above your head, and his other hand cradling your face.

His thumb strokes along the soft skin of your cheek, his hips pushed against yours and his tongue brushing along yours, but his movements stutter when your thighs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck and bringing him down to deepen the kiss.

Dick swears he sees heaven when your fingers card through his hair in that way.

Starting right at the nape of his neck, before dragging those manicured nails, up up up, before they disappear beneath silky raven strands and he sighs into the kiss, before pulling away.

Dilated pupils, and heavy breaths are exchanged between the two of you, and Dick swallows hard.

"Is he a heavy sleeper?" Dick whispers softly, gaze darting towards the bedroom he saw Riot disappear into and you nod your head.

"He is but you're pretty loud." You tease softly and Dick pushes his hips into yours, his bulge prominent beneath his suit and you can feel the way his tip brushes against your clit, even through the layers of fabric between you.

Dick always could find it in record time.

"Fair point." Dick whispers softly, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips, just a bit reddened from the intense kiss and he speaks again.

"But you never were loud."

Two digits bully their way into your cunt, your shorts and panties tugged to the side and Dick's lips are pressed against yours, muffling any sound you could even think of letting escape from your lips.

His tongue is buried in your mouth, thumb rubbing sloppy circles against your throbbing clit and your nails dig into Dick's biceps when he prods at a particularly sensitive spot. Your lashes flutter, and you take a shaky breath when Dick's fingers curl, his glove abandoned on the surface of the coffee table, and Dick pulls away from you, a thin, glossy string of saliva between the two of you before it ultimately breaks.

Landing across your chin and he giggles.

The man fucking giggles, as he uses his free hand to wipe away the mess, before ultimately moving your hair out of your face, staring down at you with pretty, big eyes that look at you so adoringly.

"You're so pretty." Dick murmurs softly, pressing a peck to your lips as he stares at you.

And fuck, you are.

Pretty eyes fanned by long lashes, perfect eyebrows and rosy cheeks, wet and parted lips (both pairs), and a few strands of hair clings to the thin sweat on your forehead and Dick sighs softly.

You're perfectly spread out too.

Hands gripping at him like you're scared he'll disappear, thighs spread messily and your panties and shorts tugged aside. Gummy walls thrum around his digits, pulsing at the intrusion and all he does is he continues to tease your clit, the rough pad of his thumb circling the sensitive and swollen nub as he continues to look at you with those heart eyes.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?" Dick's question is unexpected but he can't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it since he saw you.

Plush, squishy, and so soft.

And he'd do anything to see you pregnant.

To watch you move around in oversized shirts, a belly swollen and heavy breasts that he could tease because they're just so sensitive and pretty.

And God, he can't even imagine the way your perfect, plump pussy would look, nestled between even rounder thighs, clit completely hidden until he uses his thumbs to spread the lips.

Dick swallows.

Hard.

And he doesn't even notice that his fingers begin to move, curling and prodding, nudging at that little fleshy spot that has your toes curling in your mismatched socks and your nails dig into his forearms.

And Dick remembers just what a sight you are when you come.

Brows pinching into the cutest little frown, lips forming a little 'o' and that gasp that leaves you has him leaking in his suit and he's so glad it's dark.

"That's it, princess, come on my fingers." Dick coos softly. "Use my fingers to make your pretty pussy feel good."

Your eyes roll back, you hide your face in your shoulder and your body freezes, the only movement being the rhythmic spasm of your cunt around his fingers.

His stupidly long, incessant fingers that keep dragging out your orgasm even as you nod your head, a silent answer to his prior question.

And Dick gleams, dimples in his cheeks and brilliant blue eyes lighting up in a way that can only be described as cosmic.

Blue eyes flecked with silvery stars and the gleam of the moon, dilated pupils and pretty lashes and Dick nods.

"Okay." He breathes out. "We're gonna go to the museum, okay? He's a little artist so I think he'd like looking at the paintings?"

You nod meekly, chest still heaving even when you watch as Dick licks his fingers, cleaning them up like he's just licking syrup from his fingers. His long tongue swivels around his digits before he carefully tugs up the fabric of your T-shirt, exposing your torso to the cold air.

Perfect tits, dotted with pebbled nipples and Dick swallows.

He never thought he'd be someone to have a kid out of wedlock but fuck, is he happy to be your baby daddy.

"Come on, princess." Dick hums sweetly. "Let me worship those pretty fucking tits before I leave."

Dick leans down, breath fanning across your chest before his tongue drags along one of your sensitive nipples, and he watches the way your face screws up, biting your bottom lip to stifle any sounds.

And you look at Dick from beneath your lashes, bleary eyes and rosy lips and he groans low.

A rumble in his chest that has your needy pussy pushing out a trickle of slick.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get you pregnant again." His lips latch onto the sensitive nub, his free hand moving to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Fuck that, I'll get you pregnant anyway."

Taglist:

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@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

[fairqves]

୨୧ DON’T FORGET TO KISS ME

───── IN WHICH you prank the members and dodge their attempts at kissing you!

(🐰) ⟡ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 — 𝒽yung line! enha & 𝑓! reader .. fluff, established relationship ♡ ◞ wc 0.2K each 𓂅 warnings : not proofread, skinship, kissing.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

LEE HEESEUNG

IN THE BEGINNING, heeseung simply thought you dodging his kisses was truly a pure coincidence.

the first time you turned away, he barely notices—the second time, he pauses for a second, but he shakes it off.

but by the third time? his eyes glow in realization, and a mischievous, knowing smirk creeps onto his face.

“oh? so that’s how you wanna play?”

you may love teasing him—but the one thing you didn’t take into consideration was that heeseung holds the title of being the biggest tease ever, so there’s no way he’s letting you get away with this.

the next time you try to dodge, he suddenly grabs your waist and spins you around so fast you barely process it before his lips crash against yours, breathless and dizzying. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶 ♡

“you thought you could escape my kisses?” he whispers against your lips with a grin, his voice smug as he kisses you again and again, deeper each time.

after that, heeseung literally makes it his mission to kiss you at the most unexpected times—ambushing you when you’re reaching for something, cornering you against the counter, sneaking up behind you and placing pecks along your jaw before you can escape.

“you started this babe,” he teases, pressing another smooch to your cheek, “so now you have to deal with the consequences.”

and those consequences? neverending kisses.

PARK JONGSEONG

THE FIRST TIME you dodge jay’s kiss, he barely reacts.

the second time, he tilts his head with confusion flickering in his eyes. and the third time, he freezes.

“…did you just—” he blinks, looking genuinely taken aback.

when you dodge him again, jay just stares at you as if you just broke his heart. his eyebrows furrow, his lips part slightly, and his entire face radiates hurt puppy energy.

“why are you running from me?” his voice is soft and whiny, almost pouty. you’re trying so hard not to laugh, but the moment you see his lips form into a pout, you nearly break.

he sighs dramatically, falling back onto the couch as if the weight of your rejection is too much to bear.

“oh, i see how it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms stubbornly. “i cook for you, i take care of you, and this is how you treat me?”

you’re about to tell him it’s just a joke, but before you can, he suddenly pulls you down onto his lap, wrapping his arms tight around your waist so you can’t escape.

his chin rests on your shoulder as he lets out another exaggerated sigh. “you owe me now,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your neck. “i expect at least ten kisses as payment.”

and when you finally do give in and kiss him? he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling into you like a content cat.

“…make it twenty.”

SIM JAEYUN

AT FIRST WHEN you dodge jake’s kiss, he literally pauses mid-way, blinking in confusion.

the second time, he lets out a small laugh in disbelief, as if he can’t fathom what’s happening.

the third time you dodge, his jaw drops.

“babe,” he whines, eyes wide with betrayal. “what did i do?!”

you try to act as if you have no idea what he’s talking about, but the moment he starts following you around the house like a sad puppy, you almost break.

every time you move, he moves. every time you sit, he sits closer.

after your fourth dodge, jake dramatically collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out.

“this is it,” he groans. “just say you wanna break up.”

but when you giggle and dodge him again, something in him snaps. suddenly, he scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing.

“that’s it,” he announces, spinning you around as you shriek. “i tried to be nice.”

you’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe, and before you know it, he’s got you pinned to the couch, his face hovering inches over yours.

“you really thought you could get away with this, huh?” he teases, breathless from chasing you. then, before you can react, he peppers kisses everywhere—your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, every spot he missed earlier.

by the time he finally lets you go, you’re dizzy from all the affection.

“that’s what you get,” he says, grinning like a kid who just won a prize. “next time, just kiss me and save yourself the trouble.”

PARK SUNGHOON

THE VERY FIRST ATTEMPT, sunghoon doesn’t react. when you dodged, he simply raised an eyebrow. the second time, his lips twitch.

but by the third time? his entire expression goes blank.

“oh.” his voice is completely neutral, but you can tell he’s analyzing every past interaction, trying to figure out where he went wrong.

you expect him to fight for your affection like the videos you’ve seen of other couples, but instead…he just shrugs.

“okay then.”

and then he stops trying.

no more sneaky kisses. no more casual pecks. no more attempts to close the distance. instead, he just leans back and watches you with unreadable eyes.

at first, you’re fine. it was just a joke, after all. but after a while, the lack of affection gets to you. you’re used to sunghoon pulling you in by the waist, used to the intimacy between the two of you.

so when he sits on the other side of the couch, scrolling through his phone as if he doesn’t care, you start to panic.

“hoon…” you inch closer. he doesn’t react.

you poke his cheek. no reaction. finally, you swallow your pride and kiss his jaw softly. he immediately turns, raising an eyebrow. “oh? i thought you didn’t want kisses.”

you groan, hiding your face in his shoulder. “it was just a joke!”

he smirks. “oh, i know.” and then he decides to be a menace—he gets revenge. he ignores you for the rest of the day, dodging your kisses instead.

when you finally pin him down, desperate for his affection, he just grins. “guess you learned your lesson, huh?”

and of course—he kisses you senseless after that.

© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. i’m almost at 2000 followers idk what’s going on anymore. wdym 2000 people enjoy my works… i need to process this help 😦

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @chaeneu @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun

[heeaara]

FOR YOU, i WOULD ✴︎⠀ ( 정원의 남자친구 ) 𓈒𓈒 ╰—hand in hand, you & me. today, tomorrow, forever.

𝒥 ｡｡ bf ━ yang jungwon + 𝑓.reader ⟡ wc650, cw 𓂃 relationship, skinship, petnames, headcanons ? overall fluff ♡ .

ARA's NOTE : second post on blr, lets goo. took a little layout inspo from my one & only IT GiRL @flwrstqr. dani ilysm TT. also, this fic is mainly dedicated to my one & only jungwon girl @vmpivory. hope y'all enjoy reading it TT.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always give you forehead kisses for every chance he gets. Forehead kisses is his way of showing pure affection and adoration towards you, His forehead kisses gave you a feeling of protectiveness. Because, let's be honest, a forehead kiss isn't just a kiss, its a promise. And, you knew yang jungwon wasn't the one who broke promises, he keeps them like an oath.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who gives you butterflies even with the smallest gestures. He never fails to make you flustered with his cutest smiles, and not to mention, his compliments always had your heartbeat at the fastest speeds. He knew the kind of impact he had on you and he utterly loved it, he loved how your cheeks would turn red even at the slightest and smallest accolade. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would absolutely turn into a baby for your attention. He loved being pampered by you, and it wasn't like you hated it. You loved it when he would turn into a little fluff ball and being all sulky, craving your attention. You loved the way he would use his boba eyes to manipulate you, not that you hated it, you wanted to actually hide him inside your pocket, that's how cute and irresistible he was. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always boop your nose whenever he wants to annoy you because he loved seeing his girlfriend being all pouty. You secretly loved it when he did that, it was something, actually ━ a kind of a gesture of pure love and tease. It was the kind of motion only you two understood only. It was his way of telling you that he treasured you and his unbounded love for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who wouldn't even go a day without cuddling with you. To be accurate, you were like his teddy bear without whom he couldn't sleep a night. Cuddles with you were his favorite thing. Having the both of you tangled with each other, having to have you in his arms was like a beautiful dream from which he would never want to wake up from. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who loves surprising you with planning and taking you to small, cute dates. Like going on a spontaneous hike, trying new foods, or exploring new places together. As well as, he would take you to small ice cream dates considering how much you loved and were obsessed with ice cream. He loves spending time with you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would totally destroy the whole damn world if something happens or something bothers his girl. He indeed was the cutest and with the kindest heart but when it came to his loved ones, he would actually turn into a monster to protect them. He had a protective nature and you always felt safe with him.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would give you the best acts of services. From holding your bag or carrying your heels to letting him do the dishes or cook the meal for the night. One of his actions that showed how he loved and cared for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would send you small, cute texts throughout the day to check up on you. You loved it when he did that. Whenever you both are away from each other, his texts are the only thing that keeps you motivated and you loved the way it would lighten up your mood or distract you from the biggest of stresses. You knew, he was always there for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would love you for who you are, always, and forever.

TAGLiST : @haerinheartss @flufflights @vmpivory @manaah02 @sugarikiz ( imk if u want me to add you to my taglist ).

[greengoblinswifey]

Safe Haven—Hwang In-ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— The violence of the games leave you pondering—you don’t want to die a virgin and you ask the one man who you trust and who’s always saved you for help. Based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his early 50s) mentions of death, mentions of virginity, virgin!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, fluff, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

The first time you met Young-il, he saved your life.

The second time, he did it again.

By the third time, you stopped questioning it.

The games were a nightmare, a twisted sequence of death where survival felt more like a borrowed moment than a right. But through it all, Young-il had been there, his sharp eyes catching danger before you even saw it, whether it be saving you from other players or having your back in each game. You didn’t know why he did it, but you trusted him. In a place where trust was a gamble, you took the risk.

Tonight, the two of you sat in the corner of the dormitory, backs against the cold metal bunks. Most of the other players had settled into uneasy sleep, but you couldn’t, not with the weight of potential death pressing down upon you.

“You should get some rest,” Young-il murmured beside you.

You shook your head, fingers twisting in the hem of your thin uniform. “I can’t.”

Silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You glanced at him, taking in the way the dim lighting flattered his chiseled face. He was older than you, more composed, like he had seen enough of the world to understand it in ways you never could.

And yet, he was still here. Still surviving. Still saving you.

“Young-il,” you said as you took a breath.

He turned his head slightly, watching you. You swallowed hard, fingers tightening. “I don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I’m scared, what if I die? What if I die without experiencing anything. I want you to take my virginity,” you said, out of breath.

Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe, or something softer. But his face remained unreadable, his body still. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease.

Instead, he simply asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That was the truth. You didn’t know him outside of the game, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that if this was your last chance to experience something human, something real, you wanted it to be with him. He made you feel safe and cared for.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said after he studied you for a long moment.

No hesitation, just understanding, exactly what you needed in the moment.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw, his touch soft, as if waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t pull away, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to do this because you’re scared,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. “I want to.”

From your lips, he kissed his way down, trailing soft touches along your jaw, your throat, the slope of your shoulder. Every kiss felt delicate, like he was memorizing you in pieces. His hands remained careful, never pushing, always waiting for your silent permission.

When he reached the hem of your uniform, he paused, meeting your gaze again. “I want you to tell me if anything feels wrong. If you want to stop.”

“I will,” you nodded, your breath shaky.

Slowly, he peeled away the thin fabric, revealing your naked body to the cool air. But there was no hunger in his gaze, no rush. Just admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your waist, his touch sending warmth through your pussy. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it, making sure you felt how much this meant—not just to you, but to him too.

His hands skimmed over every inch of you, his lips following, never leaving a space untouched. And when he moved lower, when he pressed one last kiss to your stomach, his voice was a quiet promise against your skin.

“I’ll take care of you, angel.”

He grabbed under your thighs, making your legs sit on his shoulders before he delved into the exquisite cuisine before him that was your wet pussy. “You taste amazing,” he murmured, slipping a finger inside your tight hole.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair as his efforts sped up and your cheeks heated as you heard the faint sound of your pussy wet and squelching. You prayed none of the other players could hear.

“T-that feels so good,” you moaned, softly.

Young-il moaned into your pussy as his tongue flicked your clit, the vibrations making you squirm under his touch. He ferociously sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue before slipping in another finger making you feel full and writhe in the feeling of your g spot being constantly toyed with. You clenched tightly around his fingers, slapping a hand over your mouth to contain your moans.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, staring up at you.

You complied with his request, your hands grasping his dark hair he had as he held you down and continued eating your pussy through your high. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mind became foggy and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

After you caught your breath, he kissed you from your pussy, to your stomach, up your chest, sucking on your breasts then your cheeks, your lips then to your forehead, muttering praises in between. “So beautiful, angel. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He pulled his bottoms down slowly, his hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen and you bit your lip seeing the large package he carried.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped, softly, staring at how hard, long and thick he was. If his fingers could barely fit, how would that? It looked like he would tear you apart.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be intimidated,” his deep voice said, “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He pumped his cock a few times, spreading the pre cum on his glistening head before hovering above you, his eyes on yours as he used it to rub all over your entrance. You moaned his name softly as he teased you, your body shuddering as he began slapping the tip on your clit.

“I’m about to start, it might be a bit uncomfortable at first. If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop,” he muttered, quietly.

You nodded slowly and took his time inside you, eyes locked with yours, watching every reaction, every flicker of feeling that crossed your face. “You’re perfect, made just for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. His kisses trailed along your neck and shoulders each one drawing soft, involuntary moans from you.

As he went inside you, inch by inch, your nails dug into his back, his big cock stretching you by the second. You couldn’t even speak, feeling the wind knocked out of you as he was half way in, pushing past the barrier inside your pussy.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asked, ceasing movement inside you.

You nodded frantically, jaw agape.

He reached between your bodies, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he began thrusting slowly. He hissed in pleasure as your tight pussy gripped his dick, each time he went in and the back out, he was soaked in your juices.

“So wet for me. Absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

He gave you time to adjust, to feel every moment as his hold on you tightened and when you whispered, barely louder than a breath, asking him to “go deeper”, his control wavered, and a new depth of intensity overtook him. His grip on you tightened as his strokes deepened, and his eyes darkened with a desire that matched your own.

You bit your lip, containing your moans as you felt him practically in your guts and he was only half way in. Soft praises slipped from him in between breaths, the words laced with emotion as he murmured, “You feel incredible, I don’t want this to end.” You didn’t want it to end either. Each whispered word made you feel seen, safe, protected, and deeply wanted, it was exactly why you chose him.

He stared into your eyes as he hovered above you, his voice a soothing murmur against your neck as he urged, “Cum for me angel, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” As your orgasm hit you like a truck, you felt the wave of warmth and release, the feeling having you in the clouds as though you were high on ecstasy, his name slipping from your lips in soft, whispers. Your entire body convulsed and his strokes slowed as he whispered gentle praises, his touch filled with tenderness.

As he watched you come down from cloud nine, his gaze softened. “You took me so well, angel. I’m so proud of you.” Even though he could see the tiredness in your eyes, the spark in his hadn’t dimmed. With a gentle shift, he turned you onto your stomach, drawing your ass up to him. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, as he moved again, pulling you back on his cock, each slow thrust reassuring you that he wasn’t done cherishing you yet.

Holding you close, he thrusted slowly at first, ensuring you felt every throb of his cock and every gentle movement of his cock dragging along your walls.

“You’re perfect, my beautiful girl,” he murmured. When you let out a soft gasp, he grinned, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “You look so sexy with your ass in the air,” he said, his voice low. “Completely mine.”

You felt him lean closer, his lips beside your ear as he whispered, “I need you to cum on my cock again.” His hand drifted to your waist, holding you steady as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you said, overstimulation taking precedence.

He tilted chin to the side so you could look back at him, “You can do it, angel. Be a good girl for me.” His words were all the encouragement you needed, and as you gave in, squirting on his cock, his own quiet moans echoed with yours.

You clenched tightly around his cock lodged inside your pussy and it triggered his own intense orgasm. He bit down gently on your shoulder, thrusting slowly as ropes of his hot load filled you to the brim. “That’s it, take my cum. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, Young-il,” you moaned softly, your body shaking from the intensity of it all.

Your heartbeat, once wild and frantic, had settled into something calmer. You lay there, still catching your breath, and Young-il hadn’t moved, not away from you, at least as he emptied his cum inside you.

Slowly, he pulled out, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your body, reminding you that you were safe with him. You winced slightly at the sudden emptiness, and his eyes flickered with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “It was perfect.”

His expression softened, relief washing over his face. He reached for his shirt, and used it to clean you up carefully.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee, then your hip, then your abdomen. “Took me so perfectly. You’re beautiful.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, watching him as he continued to worship you in the quietest, sweetest ways.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed another kiss to your collarbone.

He stilled at that, lifting his head so you could see the way his gaze softened. “No need to thank me,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re mine.” A pause, filled with nothing but warmth. “And you deserve to be cherished.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could respond, he pulled you into him, wrapping you in his arms, tucking you against his. His lips pressed against your temple, then your forehead, then your nose. Sweet, lingering kisses.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what.”

You sighed, melting into him, feeling safer than you had in weeks. His fingers traced along your spine in slow, soothing patterns, his presence lulling you into something close to peace.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips before resting his chin atop your head. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with his arms around you, holding you like you were something precious, something worth protecting, you believed him.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Only I Get to Lift You

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Mild jealousy, light angst, fluff, playful possessiveness

Summary: With TikTok supposedly on the verge of being banned, you’re determined to convince Paige to do the Jacked and Kind trend as a farewell. Paige refuses, saying she won’t even post her drafts, unlike the rest of your teammates. So, you ask someone else...

“C’mon, Paige, please?” I whined, leaning my full weight against her as we sat on the couch in her dorm.

Paige groaned, not even looking up from her phone. “Nope.”

I pouted. “It’s a farewell to TikTok. You have to do it with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to do anything.”

“Paige—”

“No.”

I let out a dramatic sigh, flopping against her. “Everyone else has done it! Ice, Azzi, Sarah, Jana—”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t need to do it,” she cut in. “I don’t even post like that, Y/N. I have like… a hundred drafts, most are ads that having been set to drop yet.”

I gasped. “And you’re not gonna post the non ad drafts?!”

“Nope.”

I sat up, scandalized. “You’re the worst.”

She smirked. “And yet, you’re still in love with me.”

I grumbled under my breath before pushing off the couch. “Fine. If you won’t do it, I’ll just ask Jana.”

Paige quirked a brow. “Jana?”

“Yup,” I said, grabbing my phone. “She’s tall, she’s strong, and unlike some people, she actually likes to have fun.”

Paige snorted. “Go ahead then. Have fun.”

Oh, I would.

Convincing Jana had been way easier.

“You wanna do a TikTok trend with me?” she repeated after I explained.

I nodded. “Yeah, you just lift me on your shoulders for the ‘Jacked and Kind’ thing.”

She smiled. “Okay, sure.”

Easy.

Sarah started the music, and I grinned at the camera as we recorded.

Jana crouched, letting me carefully climb onto her shoulders. She stood with ease, my legs dangling as I gripped her head for balance.

Everything was going great—until I saw Paige standing across the gym, her arms crossed, staring hard.

I could tell exactly what was happening in that pretty little head of hers.

Something clicked.

Something possessive.

And suddenly, the video was no longer cute to her—it was personal.

The second I hopped off Jana’s shoulders, Paige was right there.

“Redo it.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

She gestured at my phone. “The TikTok. Redo it. With me.”

I stared at her for a second, then smirked. “Ohhh, now you wanna do it?”

Paige clenched her jaw. “Only I get to lift my girl on my shoulders. No one else.”

Azzi, Ice, and Sarah cackled in the background.

Jana, bless her heart, just looked amused. “I mean, I don’t mind—”

“No, you’re good,” Paige said quickly. “We’re doing it again.”

I bit back a laugh. “Oh, so when Jana does it, it’s a problem?”

“Yes,” Paige said without hesitation.

Sarah whistled. “Damn, she’s pressed.”

Paige ignored her, just crouching down. “C’mon, up you go. Alright, run it back,” she said.

I rolled my eyes, but agreed to letting etting Sarah re-start the sound. We waited for the sound to start playing.

Once the sound started playing Paige stood, her grip on my waist firm, like she needed to prove something.

I smiled as the song restarted, she lifted me up with ease. With me now resting on her shoulder, Paige smirked up at me, squeezing my calves. “Now it’s cute.”

I laughed, shaking my head. This girl was ridiculous.

But, honestly? I loved her for it.

The second I posted the TikTok, I knew it was over for Paige.

The comments were rolling in within seconds:

@paige4mvp: “FINALLY she did the trend, took her long enough ”

@wnbabuckets: “Paige, just go ahead and clean out those drafts while you’re at it.”

@uconnfancam: “Bueckers, drop the drafts, we BEG.”

I scrolled through the flood of replies, laughing to myself as I sat on the couch. Paige, who was sprawled across my lap, raised an eyebrow at my amusement. “What’s so funny?”

I turned my phone toward her, showing the endless comments demanding that she post the TikToks she had sitting in her drafts.

Paige groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Ma, I told you they were gonna start on me the second you posted it.”

I smirked, playing with the ends of her hair. “Well, maybe if you actually posted anything instead of letting your drafts collect dust, they wouldn’t be on your ass like this.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t even have that many—”

“Paige, you have like 105, and I'm pretty sure 50% of em are yet to be released ads and sponsors.”

She sat up, giving me a look. “How do you even know that?”

I gave her an innocent smile. “I may or may not have taken a little peek while you were editing our video.”

Paige groaned again, flopping dramatically against me. “You’re the worst.”

I laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And yet, you still love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled. “Whatever, you say baby.”

A few hours later kk had convinced me to do a TikTok Live with her

“Alright, y’all, what’s up?”

I grinned at the screen as KK adjusted the phone, setting up the TikTok Live. The chat was already moving at lightning speed, comments rolling in about the Jacked and Kind TikTok.

@paigeismybabymama: “Y/N, YOU SNAPPED WITH THAT POST ”

@kkfanclub: “KK AND Y/N?? ELITE LIVEEEEEE”

@paigeslockscreen: “Where���s Bueckers?? She still hiding from the comments??”

I laughed as KK read that one out loud. “Nah, she and Jana are building something new once again. Probably about to break our damn apartment, from the way they are yelling at each other.”

The camera shifted slightly, showing Paige and Jana sitting on the floor, surrounded by wooden planks and an instruction manual that Jana is reading out loud only for paige to tell her to slow down or she's not making any sense.

KK snickered, before adding fuel to the fire. “Hey, P boogers! The chat said you need to come out of hiding and post your drafts.”

Paige didn’t even look up. “Tell them to mind their business.”

I smirked, leaning toward the phone. “Y’all heard her—keep commenting about it.”

More comments flooded in instantly.

@nukebueckers:“POST THE DRAFTS, PAIGE. STOP PLAYIN.”

@wnbawatchparty: “NAH, WE AIN’T LETTING THIS GO.”

Paige sighed dramatically, setting down the drill and turning toward me. “Y/N, baby, you’re supposed to have my back.”

I gave her an innocent shrug. “I am. I just think you should give the people what they want. Cause its also what I want”

She squinted at me, then at the phone. Then, with a mischievous grin, she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

The chat immediately went wild.

@paigebiceps:“NAH WAIT WHY IS SHE BUILT LIKE THAT”

@fypuconn:“PAIGE IN THE SPORTS BRA AND GREEN PJS HELLO????”

@wnbabuckets: “IS SHE ABOUT TO DO A TIKTOK ON LIVE???”

I raised an eyebrow as Paige walked over to me, now standing directly behind the couch. She leaned down, resting her chin on my shoulder. “You wanna put on show for TikTok, baby?”

I smirked before turning to look at her. “You trying to redeem yourself?”

She grinned, kissing my cheek. “Something like that.”

The chat was moving way too fast now.

@paigefanclub: “SHE CALLED HER BABY AGAIN BYEEEE”

@jukebueckers: “NOT HER BEING ALL FLIRTY ON LIVE—”

@y/nnation: “SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD THIS”

KK, who had been watching with amusement, shook her head. “Nah, this is actually crazy. Go ahead, do the trend again, since Paige wanna prove something.”

Jana, who was still trying to assemble the furniture, looked up and smirked. “Oh, this I gotta see.”

“Alright, P baby. You ready?” I say as I stood up going to stand in the middle of the floor.

She smirked. “Always, ma.”

Paige stretched again, showing off just enough muscle to make the chat go feral. Then, with zero hesitation, she reached down and grabbed my waist.

I let out a small yelp as she lifted me effortlessly, settling me onto her shoulders like it was nothing.

The chat? Absolutely losing its mind.

@paigeisstrong: “I KNEW SHE WAS STRONG BUT DAMN”

@y/nluver:“THE WAY SHE JUST PICKED HER UP LIKE THAT—”

@uconnfans:“OH SHE OWNS YOU FR”

I laughed, holding onto Paige’s head for balance.

The two of us did the trend flawlessly, Paige flexing way more than necessary, making sure to show off just how effortlessly she could hold me up.

As soon as we both finished, she had a menacing idea to toss me back down onto the couch. Letting out a yelp, as I landed on the couch I sat up only for Paige to put me in her lap. Her hands lingering on my waist as she pulled me close. “That good enough for y’all?” she teased the camera.

The chat was a mess.

@fypnation: “PAIGE JUST BE LIFTING READER LIKE A FEATHER, HUH?”

@wnbastans:“THE WAY SHE HOLDS HER???? THIS AINT EVEN FAIR”

@paigebucketsss: “YEAH OKAY, THEY’RE IN LOVE. WE GET IT.”

I grinned, leaning into Paige. “See? Was that so bad?”

She hummed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Not if I get to do it with you.”

KK gagged in the background. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Y’all got the people going insane.”

Jana, still struggling with the furniture, snorted. “At least someone’s getting something done today. Paige please come finish helping me.”

Paige just smirked, wrapping her arms around my waist. “So, what I’m hearing is… I should post at least one?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Paige, just post your damn drafts already, and go help Jan.”

She sighed, pretending to think. “Ehh… maybe I’ll just keep making y’all wait, and fine give me the drill,”

The chat lost it again.

And I just shook my head, knowing damn well she was never gonna let this joke die, or post them damn tiktoks.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[munsonsmixtapes]

This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks

What I would GIVE!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming

Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?

Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.

But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.

You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.

So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.

There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.

"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.

"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?

You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.

Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.

"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.

His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.

You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.

“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”

You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?

“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”

“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes,” you nod.

You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.

Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.

“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”

He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.

Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.

He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.

Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.

You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.

Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.

“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”

“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.

Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.

“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.

Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.

His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.

“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.

“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.

“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.

“Can’t go any faster than this.”

“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.

He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.

“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.

He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.

As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.

Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.

[elryuse]

Press Record

Julie X Male Reader

Tags : Record Sex, Naughty, Romance, Obsession, Cowgirl, Sweaty

Words : 2,813 Words

This Fic Is Dedicated to My Friend @Pizza_anon. Thanks once again For the Commission My Friend. I hope You Guys enjoyed it.

The first time Julie glanced my way, I felt it like a jolt of electricity. Her green eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto mine across the crowded dining hall. For a split second, her infectious smile flickered, replaced by something darker, more predatory. I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. That was my first mistake.

“You’re new, right?” she said, sliding into the seat across from me like she owned it. Her voice was low, teasing, and carried an edge that made my stomach twist. “I’m Julie. You’ve probably heard of me.”

I had. Everyone had. Julie wasn’t just a name; she was a reputation. The girl you didn’t cross, the girl who could turn your life into a minefield with a single smirk. But up close, she was magnetic—her messy dark hair, the way she leaned forward like she was about to share a secret, the faint scent of cherry lip gloss that made my pulse quicken.

“Yeah,” I managed, my voice steady despite the knot in my chest. “I’ve heard.”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Good. Then you know not to waste my time.”

She stayed for exactly three minutes, just long enough to leave me flustered and confused, before disappearing back into the crowd. But that was just the beginning. Julie had a way of inserting herself into my life, like a storm I didn’t see coming. She’d show up at parties, corner me in hallways, and text me at random hours with messages that ranged from ”You’re cute when you’re nervous” to ”Don’t make me come find you.”

And then there was the night at her friend’s party. The night she pulled me into a bedroom, locked the door, and whispered, “Let’s film it,” like it was the most natural thing in the world. My heart raced, my hands trembled, and I should’ve said no. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because when Julie looked at me like that, with those piercing eyes and that devilish smile, I wasn’t just a target—I was something she wanted. And that was all it took.

Now, we’re alone in my dorm room, the air thick with tension. My roommate’s out for the evening, and Julie’s perched on the edge of my bed, her legs crossed, toe tapping idly against the floor. She’s wearing a leather jacket that’s too big for her, making her look smaller, more vulnerable. But I know better. Julie’s always in control.

“Let me film you,” she says, her voice low and steady, devoid of the teasing tone she usually uses. This isn’t a joke anymore. It’s a demand.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Julie…”

“Don’t ‘Julie’ me,” she interrupts, leaning forward so her face is inches from mine. Her breath is warm against my skin, and I can smell the faint hint of coffee on her lips. “You know you want to. You always do.”

“It’s not just about what I want,” I try, but she cuts me off with a sharp laugh.

“Bullshit. It’s always about what you want. You just won’t admit it.” Her hand finds my thigh, her fingers digging in just enough to make me wince. “You like it when I push you. You like it when I take control. Don’t act like you don’t.”

I want to argue, to tell her she’s wrong, but the words catch in my throat. Because she’s not wrong. Not even close. There’s something about Julie—the way she challenges me, the way she makes me feel alive in a way no one else ever has—that I can’t resist. It’s dangerous, intoxicating, and I know it’s going to end badly. But right now, I don’t care.

“Fine,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “But just this once.”

Her smirk returns, and she pulls her phone from her pocket, setting it up on the dresser with the camera angled perfectly. “That’s what you said last time,” she teases, sliding her jacket off and tossing it to the floor. “And the time before that.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I watch as she climbs onto the bed, straddling my lap with practiced ease. Her hands find my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she leans in close, her lips brushing against my ear. “Let’s see how loud I can make you,” she whispers, her breath hot against my skin.

And then she’s kissing me, hard and demanding, her tongue sliding against mine as her hips grind against me. I lose myself in the sensation, my hands gripping her waist as she takes control, her movements confident and relentless. I can feel the heat building between us, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it’s almost unbearable.

“Julie,” I groan, my hands sliding up her back, pulling her closer. She responds with a low hum, her nails dragging down my chest as she breaks the kiss, her eyes locking onto mine.

“Say it,” she demands, her voice rough with desire. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” I breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. “I want you.”

Her smile is wicked, triumphant, and she leans in to kiss me again, her hands tangling in my hair as she moves against me. The sound of our breathing fills the room, mingling with the soft creak of the bedsprings as she takes what she wants, leaving me helpless to resist.

And then she pulls back, her eyes glittering with mischief as she glances at the camera. “Let’s give them something to talk about,” she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Before I can respond, she’s moving again, her hips grinding against mine in a way that makes my breath catch.

“Julie,” I gasp, my hands tightening on her hips as I feel myself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I’m on the edge. She doesn’t slow down, doesn’t give me a moment to catch my breath, and I know she’s not going to stop until she gets what she wants.

“That’s it,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry as she leans in close, her lips brushing against mine. “Let me see you come undone.”

I don’t last much longer after that. The tension snaps, and I’m lost in the sensation, my hands gripping her hips as I spill inside her. She doesn’t stop, her movements slowing but not stopping as she rides out the aftershocks, her eyes locked on mine.

“Good boy,” she whispers, her voice soft and satisfied as she leans in to kiss me. But before I can respond, she’s pulling away, reaching for the camera and turning it off. “Now,” she says, her smirk returning, “let’s see who’s brave enough to ask what happened tonight.”

I watch as she slips her jacket back on, her movements casual and unhurried, like we didn’t just… like this wasn’t… I shake my head, trying to clear the fog in my mind, but Julie’s already at the door, her hand on the knob.

“Same time next week?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder with a smile that’s equal parts sweet and dangerous.

I don’t answer. I don’t need to. Because we both know I’ll be here just waiting for her. And she’d love that more than anything…. “You’re not that hard to figure out,” she smirks, turning the door open and walking out with not a care in the world.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me alone in the silence of the dorm room. My heart was still racing, my mind a chaotic swirl of desire, guilt, and something dangerously close to obsession. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know how to feel. All I knew was that Julie had left her mark on me—again—and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to scrub it away.

The next week passed in a blur. I tried to focus on classes, on friends, on anything other than the promise of her return. But it was no use. Everywhere I looked, I saw her—her smirk, her eyes, her lips. She haunted me, even when she wasn’t there. And then, just like she said, she came.

It was late. The dorm room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall, when the door flew open without warning. Julie stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, her eyes red and puffy. She looked wild, unpredictable, and more dangerous than ever. I froze, unsure of what to say, but before I could even think to ask what was wrong, she was on me.

“He fucking cheated on me,” she spat, her voice shaking with anger as she slammed the door shut behind her. “That piece of shit had the nerve to lie to my face, and I believed him. I actually fucking believed him.” Her hands were trembling, her chest heaving with every breath. She looked broken, but also furious—like a wounded animal ready to lash out.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening before she was in my face, her hands gripping the front of my shirt. “Do you know how that feels?” she demanded, her voice rising. “To give someone everything and have them throw it back in your face like it’s nothing?”

“Julie—” I started, but she cut me off.

“No. Don’t talk. Don’t say a fucking word.” Her eyes burned into mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to hit me. Instead, she kissed me. Hard. Her lips crashed against mine, desperate and angry and raw. I could taste the salt of her tears, the bitter tang of her rage. She wasn’t asking for comfort. She was taking what she needed.

Her hands were everywhere—pulling at my clothes, clawing at my skin. I didn’t resist. I didn’t want to. There was something electric about her in that moment, something that made me forget everything except the feel of her body against mine. She pushed me back onto the bed, climbing on top of me with a ferocity that took my breath away.

“You’re going to make me forget him,” she said, her voice low and trembling. “You’re going to make me forget everything.”

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. She was a storm, and I was caught in her chaos. Her hands tugged at the waistband of my pants, and within seconds, they were on the floor. She didn’t bother with finesse or foreplay. She was too angry, too desperate. She straddled me, her thighs pressing against my hips, and I could feel how wet she was through the thin fabric of her skirt.

“Julie—” I started again, but she didn’t let me finish.

“Shut up,” she growled, her hands gripping my shoulders so tightly it hurt. “You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to think. You’re just going to take it.”

And then she was on me, sliding down onto me with a gasp that sounded more like a cry of pain than pleasure. She didn’t stop, didn’t pause, didn’t give either of us time to adjust. She just moved, her hips grinding against mine in a rhythm that was as punishing as it was intoxicating. She was fucking me, but it didn’t feel like sex. It felt like revenge.

Her nails dug into my chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was crying again, but I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or pain or something else entirely. Her body tightened around me, and I could feel every shudder, every tremor, every flicker of emotion that she was trying to drown out.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re fucking mine.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t even think. I just let her take what she needed, gave her what I could. Her body was slick with sweat, her skin hot against mine. The air in the room was thick, heavy, charged with raw, unspoken emotion. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against my ear, and I could feel her breath, warm and shaky.

“I hate him,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I hate him so much.”

And then she was coming, her body tightening around me in a way that made my vision blur. I followed her over the edge, unable to hold back any longer. She collapsed on top of me, her breathing ragged, her forehead pressed against my chest. For a moment, neither of us moved. I wasn’t sure if it was over, or if this was just another pause in the storm.

She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine, and for the first time since she’d walked in, she looked vulnerable. “Don’t ever lie to me,” she said, her voice soft but deadly serious. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me.”

I nodded, unsure of what else to do. She stared at me for a moment longer, her eyes searching mine, and then she leaned in and kissed me. It was softer this time, slower, but there was still an edge to it—a reminder that she was in control, that she always would be.

“Good boy,” she whispered against my lips, and then she was pulling away, her body slipping off mine. She reached for her skirt, pulling it back on with quick, practiced movements. She didn’t look at me as she dressed, her face a mask of determination.

“Julie—” I started, but she cut me off with a sharp look.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice cold. “Just don’t.”

And then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving me alone in the silence once again. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my body still humming with the memory of her. I didn’t know what had just happened, or what it meant. All I knew was that Julie had blown through my life like a hurricane, leaving destruction in her wake, and I was already craving the next storm.

The first time she left, I thought it was over.

The second time, I knew better.

Julie had always been like this-hot, cold, here, gone. She never stuck around long enough to let things settle, never gave me a chance to ask what any of this meant. Maybe that's why I let it happen. Because I knew if I tried to hold onto her, she'd slip right through my fingers.

But she kept coming back.

The first time was a week after that night. My phone lit up at 2 a.m. with a single message.

Unlock your door.

And like an idiot, I did.

She didn't say a word when she slipped inside.

Just pulled me into her, fingers curling in my hair, mouth already on mine like she'd been starving for it. She never let me ask questions, never let me talk about what we were doing. She took what she wanted, and I let her.

It became a pattern.

Julie would vanish for days, sometimes weeks, and just when I started to think maybe I was finally free of her, she'd find her way back. A text. A knock on my door. A hand on my wrist when she caught me in the hallway between classes, her grip just tight enough to let me know she still had a hold on me.

And every time, I let her in.

Every time, I let her ruin me a little more.

But something was different now.

The first time she left, I thought she was running from me. Now, I wasn't so sure.

She started lingering after.

Not much-just a few minutes longer, just long enough to catch her watching me when she thought I wasn't looking. Just long enough to notice the way she hesitated before pulling her clothes back on, like she wanted to say something but didn't know how.

Just long enough for me to start wondering if maybe, just maybe, she was getting addicted, too.

Then one night, everything changed.

I wasn't expecting her. It had been two weeks since I'd last seen her, and I was finally starting to believe she was done with me for good. And then, out of nowhere, she was at my door, pounding so hard it made the walls shake.

When I opened it, she pushed past me without a word, her hair a mess, her hands trembling.

"Julie-"

"Shut up," she muttered, her voice unsteady. "Just -just let me stay."

And for the first time, she didn't touch me.

She didn't rip my clothes off, didn't press her lips to my skin. She just climbed into my bed, curled into herself, and closed her eyes.

And I knew, then and there, that I wasn't the only one craving the next storm.

She was, too.

And maybe-just maybe-this time, she was afraid of it.

[bunnyunderthebed]

i knew the sword was a good purchase, it made your visage all the more effective. snuggled in the bed by candlelight, trembling from cold and smoke, i waited for you to return.

the distant clink-clank of various knightly bits of armor and regalia keeping time of your laps around the hall. i knew exactly how long it took you to round the floor, down to the very step. patrols never changed in this tower, mostly because i never changed you out. yes, the court was given their excuses; the prince had found trust in this knight, there was little sense in wasting such a valuable resource.

like clockwork, thrice an hour, your footsteps crossed the door to my chambers. it was an exhilarating sensation, to lie there and imagine you by just the shadow of your boots across the gap. to feel my heart pounding in my chest, waiting patiently for you—desperately for you—to decide the floor empty enough to violate an oath.

finally, i heard the lock cycle back, and my breath caught in my throat as the wooden veil opened just far enough for your form to slip past. every night you did this, and every night i was speechless. hiding my face with a down blanket, i stared at your face, illuminated by the flickering of a lavender candle. that fire i saw so many years ago was still there, burning just as bright as i remembered every morning. your dominant hand, that tool you'd come to rest on my neck every night with such bravery, gripped the pommel of your sword with determination.

you find me indecent, ser.

"His Highness finds me ignoble."

a shiver up my spine, your admission no less powerful than it was the first time. i trembled as your voice ingnited my senses.

the darkness looms, ser, and i fear what i cannot see.

you didn't need to be told a second time, stepping towards the bed while beginning to undo your cuirass with one hand. my eyes fixated on the other as it rested firmly on your weapon, secretly wishing to feel every minute of your training on the edge of that blade. you set the metal plate down on the bed as you crawled over from the foot towards me.

"His Highness might come to fear what he can see as well..."

in short order you were looming over me, your shadow pressing me firmly into the bed as you straddled me. you leaned in, voice growling and heavy with desire, speaking to me like a prisoner of war.

"Crown Prince or not, your little stunts around the keep are done. I will not have you thinking you can torment me with your little temptations."

i smiled mischievously, bratty streak shining proud.

one word to the king and your knighthood—

the rough rustle of leather and metal plates echoed in the room as you pinned my throat to the mattress. fast like lightning, and just as violent.

"You will say nothing to your father, and if you do, I'll tell him how I made his precious only son into my whimpering whore."

my entire body was on fire, feeling the rumble of your voice fill my chest with a debaucherous urge to melt in your grip. your face was fractions of an inch from mine now, my vision overwhelmed by the sight of your hunger. you breathed out. i breathed in.

"That's what I thought."

moving your hand up to my jaw, you pulled my head slowly to the left, moving to start feasting. my hands, in exercise of an old habit reached toward your body, brushing your hips lightly and probing for somewhere to rest. not a moment later, my body was paralyzed by the sound of your sword whispering a threat as it slid against its scabbard.

"Ah-ah-ah. No touching. You earn that."

Royalty kink has again been brought to my attention and I cannot stop thinking about how hot it would be to be a prince who, behind closed doors, melts for his personal guard. Having a big, scary guard who takes you apart so nicely, teases you for melting so easily for someone who's below you in status

[shanastoryteller]

hey so, I tend to leave a short comment just saying I reread a fic when I do... and I was wondering about your personal opinion for those with multiple rereads.

because like, if I reread a fic and tell you about that, that (probably) feels nice, but if I end up rereading something 5 times (sometime in the future) those short comments might start to feel annoying?

I'm not very good at commenting, so it would be the same (or very similar) very short comment just mentioning the reread...

I'm possibly overthinking this, but I'd like to know if in the case of me rereading something multiple times like that you'd prefer to get those comments or if I should keep that to myself after the first/second reread 😅

there's no non-rude comment that I ever find annoying

I'm so pleased you like my writing! I am giggling and kicking my feet when I get comments! One of the first things I do in the morning is open my inbox and read whatever new comments I've gotten. A few times people have been like "this fic is old idk if you're still reading comments for it" and I absolutely am. I read every single AO3 comment I get

Sometimes people leave hearts at the end of each chapter and I think it's so cute and fun to track their progress. People leave "reread kudos!" and smiley faces and key smashes

I am a greedy greedy author. Obviously I love love big long in depth comments - I have a lot of them saved to reread later because they spark so much joy - but every comment is someone liking my fic enough to tell me about it and I love that

I don't want people to ever feel pressured to leave comments. I love them. I am gobbling them up. But if you read my story and it sparked joy within you then the end, that's why I posted it and I'm so happy about it regardless if you tell me or not

But if I get a "fifth reread. shit still hits" all I'm doing is going 🥰🥰 FIFTH reread!! ❤️ Shit still hits!! 💃😘

[onceinablueberrymoon]

i spy | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: after their “chance” meeting a couple months prior, pregnant!reader befriended gi-hun, and the two began meeting up occasionally for lunch, much to the salesman’s dismay. but now that reader’s gained gi-hun’s trust, it’s the perfect opportunity to gain some intel. setting: a few months after season 1; please read part 1 and part 2 first for added context! word count: 1.7k warnings: pregnant!reader; deception (poor gi-hun); no use of y/n; second person POV notes: i love domestic salesman so much (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) he will remain alive in my heart lol. there’s at least three parts left to this series, culminating in season 2 events. the next one should be coming soon, so stay tuned! this part is a big one, with lots of fluff, as always. please enjoy! borders by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics-archive!

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your bedroom. You cracked open your eyes. It was morning. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw your husband, still asleep. His expression was peaceful. ‘Good,’ you thought, ‘he needs it.’ He rarely got a good night’s sleep as he was regularly plagued by nightmares of his traumatic past. 

You sat up slowly, resting one hand on your back and the other on your large stomach. With the baby due in a few short weeks, you tried not to overexert yourself. Not that your husband would let you, anyway.

You picked up your phone from the nightstand and noted the time: 10:00 a.m. It’d been a long time since you slept in this late.

Most of your unread messages were spam, but one text caught your eye.

Message from Seong Gi-hun: Would you like to meet for lunch? I’ll be passing by your area today. 

You’d been rather proud of your connection with Gi-hun. Ever since you first met him at the Incheon Airport subway station, you’ve maintained a casual friendship. While he had never spoken a word about the Games, he often told you stories about his daughter and his friends. You suspected he was quite lonely and isolated, and he had yet to use much of his winnings. Even so, you had somehow become his friendly confidante. 

You put your phone to sleep and closed your eyes, leaning your head back on the bed’s headboard.

Your husband and you had agreed that you would need to start asking Gi-hun for information about the Games soon. Although you knew where Gi-hun was most of the time, you didn’t know what he was planning on doing if he found your husband. He seemed determined to interfere with the Games, but you weren’t sure how he would go about doing that. 

The goal was to learn more from Gi-hun, and you would begin executing your plan today.

You felt a shifting movement from beside you, and you looked down to see your husband cuddling into your side. When he couldn’t put his arm around your large bump, he wrapped it around your thigh. 

“Comfortable?” you chuckled. He nodded sleepily, pressing closer to you. You ran a hand through his fluffy, mussed-up hair. He lifted his head to softly kiss your belly. Your heart swelled – you loved him so much.

“While I would love to stay in bed and cuddle, I have to get ready. Gi-hun offered to meet me for lunch.” You gently unraveled yourself from your husband’s hold. This seemed to have woken him up more.

“I’ll send some guards to keep an eye on you.” He sat up, reaching over to his nightstand to make a call using the landline phone that was reserved for work.

You groaned, “I’ll be fine. Gi-hun wouldn’t dare touch me, not while I’m pregnant. And besides, I have a cover story. I’ll say I saw you playing ddakji with someone on the subway, but keep the details vague. Easy peasy.”

Your husband didn’t look convinced. 

“I’ll tell them not to wear their uniforms. They’ll be undercover.”

You let out a big sigh. You weren’t winning this one.

“Fine. But I’m not bailing them out if they get caught.”

“So I saw something odd the other day…” You said nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich. Gi-hun seemed intrigued as he dug into his own sandwich.

“These two men were playing ddakji in the middle of the subway station.” Gi-hun froze, mid-bite. You continued, “Can you believe it? I thought ddakji was just some kid’s game, not something played by grown men.”

You ignored his bewildered expression. “And to make it even weirder, one man slapped the other after he lost!” Gi-hun looked at you with a thousand-yard stare. You cheered in your mind – you knew you had gotten to him.

“Gi-hun-ssi?” You questioned, blinking your eyes innocently. 

“...What station?” He whispered.

“I’m… I’m not sure. Maybe Yaksu? My mind’s been all over the place late-” 

Gi-hun cut you off. “Was he dressed as a businessman? Did you see where he went afterwards?”

You nodded, “He was in a grey suit. My train came while they were still playing.” You paused. This was the moment of truth. “What’s going on? Do you know him?”

Gi-hun took a deep breath. “You may not believe me, but that salesman… He works for an organization that kills people by forcing them to play children’s games for money.”

You snorted. “Children’s games? Like what, hide and seek?”

His expression hardened. “Exactly. But it isn’t just games. People died. I was there.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I won.” 

He proceeded to tell you everything. About the pink guards, the types of games he played, the frontman in charge… Nothing you didn’t already know, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“And that man you saw, the salesman… He recruits players by playing ddakji. If you win, he gives you 100,000 won and a card to join the games.”

You did your best to look skeptical. Really, it wasn’t hard since most people would think he was out of his mind by this point. 

But you gave him hope.

“I believe you, Gi-hun-ssi.” You turned to face him. His intense gaze softened. “If I see that man slapping people again, I’ll let you know.” 

Technically, you weren’t lying, since your husband didn’t slap you at home (unless you asked, of course). You had both agreed that slapping people’s faces was strictly a work thing.

Gi-hun’s hand lurched forward to grab yours, but his grip loosened out of fear of hurting you. 

“Promise me,” his voice shook, “promise me that you won’t approach him. Who knows what he’ll do… Especially in your condition.” Both your gazes wandered down to your swollen belly. 

“I would never endanger my baby.” You placed a protective hand over your stomach.

Gi-hun gave you a tight-lipped smile. “I recently called my former loaner and he’s agreed to assemble a team to search for the salesman.” He let his head drop into his hands. “We have to find this man before the next games start.”

“This loaner of yours… How do they plan on finding the salesman?” You asked cautiously.

Gi-hun lifted his head. “They plan on searching the subway stations from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. The salesman will surely be out recruiting people during that period.” He turned to you again. “I didn’t mean to bring you into all of this. If you see that salesman again though,” he looked at you, his eyes pleading, “call me immediately. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

Again, you nodded, this time with more conviction.

The rest of your time together was silent for the most part, an uneasiness lingering in the air. All that mattered, though, was that you had fully gained Gi-hun’s trust. But how much longer would you be able to keep it?

Returning home from your lunch appointment, you open the front door to see your husband lounging on the sofa, his feet propped up on the low coffee table. Upon noticing your arrival, he closed the book he was reading and put it aside. 

“I’ve got some key information!” You sang, waving your arm to greet your husband. He smiled, standing up to meet you at the doorway. 

“What did my detective learn today?” He took your hand and led you to sit on the sofa. He helped you put your legs up, then sat near your feet and began massaging them. 

“Lots. For one, Gi-hun calls you ‘the salesman’. Funny, isn’t it? You’re not selling anything, but with your devilishly good looks, I’d buy anything from you.” He chuckled at your comment. 

“He also said that he hired his former loan shark.” You let out a giggle. “His loan shark! The guy that Gi-hun signed his physical rights away to! I couldn’t believe my ears.” You continued, “Anyway, the loan shark and his team will be searching the subway stations for you.” You grimaced. “It’ll interfere with your schedule. They start at 10 a.m. and go until 10 p.m.” 

Your husband let out a heavy sigh and pinched his nose. “So, the entire day.” 

You nodded. “I can find more prospects aboveground. Parks, markets… There must be some in the suburbs too.” 

He seemed lost in thought as he continued rubbing the soles of your feet.

“Another thing… Gi-hun told me to promise I’d call him if I saw you again.” Your husband looked at you and quirked an eyebrow. You took your phone out of your bag on the coffee table. “Since I found you, should I let him know..?” You teased, your phone dangling loosely from your hand. 

“Oh?” Your husband smirked. “If you did,” he moved his hands up your legs to massage your thighs, “What would you say?”

You shuddered when he massaged a particular spot on your thigh. 

“I’d say… ‘Wow, that salesman is incredibly handsome.’” Your husband chuckled. You laughed, “Then, to really rile him up, I might say, ‘Maybe I will play a game with him after all.’” You cocked your head, a mischievous smile on your face. “Or do you think that’d give him a heart attack?”

Your husband laughed. He moved his hands back down to massage your ankles.

The conversation flowed between the two of you for over an hour, when your husband finally tired of massaging your aching body. He escorted you to your bedroom, where you immediately demanded that you resume your cuddling session from earlier that morning.

As you snuggled into him, you sighed. “I’m going to miss this.”

He nodded, one hand drawing circles on your belly. Just then, you both felt the baby kick. Nothing out of the ordinary, but a kick nevertheless.

“Well, maybe I won’t miss that.” 

Your husband’s repetitive circles were making you sleepy. But before you fell asleep, you heard him murmur, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

As much as you also wanted everything to stay the same, you knew things were about to change. In your career, in your family, in your friendships… The next chapter of your life would soon begin, and boy, were you in for a ride.

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

A/N: I was asked for more, so I am attempting. I’ve never written anything like this. I just love the idea of dad bod Logan…or muscular, fit body of Logan’s with a tummy or a decent gut. It’d be cute. Don’t judge me.

One evening when the guys returned from a merc job, Logan goes to the bedroom to get a change of clothes while still in his suit. He can wear an outfit under it rather comfortably but this time, he noticed his suit was tight in the middle. He went into the bathroom and looked at his profile where he got his confirmation that he had a tummy. He began to strip out of his suit and kept checking himself out in the mirror, not liking what he finds. Once he pulls off his tank top, he sees that it isn’t really a gut, just pudge. Just a layer of fat on his otherwise muscular form from eating three meals a day. He wonders if he should go back to alcohol and one meal a day. He shook his head since he feels better, feels healthier, and can tell what he is doing is good for him. He has more energy and much better alertness but he doesn’t like the pooch at all. He decides to go back to one meal a day while keeping the alcohol down and just making sure to drink water instead. He can do this.

What Logan doesn’t expect when he makes this decision is how Wade acts.

Three days later after Logan has returned to eating one meal a day, Wade immediately notices the change and doesn’t like it. By the second day, he decides to eat out at places he knows Logan likes but the man refuses saying he isn’t hungry. Wade knows he is lying. The man eats like him due to maintaining his healing factor.

At day three, Wade decides to pull out the stops, he wakes early to go to that bakery Logan loves their pastry to get him a dozen with half of it solely for Logan. The man glares at Wade over his black coffee and again claims he isn’t hungry.

Now, it is the morning of day four and Logan is having his black coffee and reading the newspaper.

“So, grandpa, how’s the crossword going?” Wade asks.

Logan sips his coffee and grunts. He sets the cup down and turns the page.

“Got the funnies? I’d love to see what that stupid orange cat is doing to Jon today. “ Wade sips his khaki color coffee full of sugar and creamer.

“No, this doesn’t have funnies,” Logan explains.

“Damn. I was hoping to see what that Valiant knight was up to too. Any sudoku?” Wade pokes again.

Logan quietly rumbles as he flips through the pages and removes the pages the sudoku is on before nearly slamming it down in front of Wade. “Is there anything else you need, princess, before I go back to quietly reading the paper?”

“Actually, yes,” confirms Wade.

Logan sets the paper down and gives Wade his undivided attention.

“Why aren’t you eat? You barely have one meal a day. What changed, peanut?” Wade’s eyes are lidded and he’s frowning. Logan can smell his genuine concern. Not wanting to admit the worry, as superficial as it may sound, he shrugs. “Just haven’t been hungry for some reason.”

“I smell bullshit, Wolvie, and you know it,” argues Wade. “I don’t understand why you’d limit yourself when you’re looking great.” Logan snorts at that but Wade continues, “You seem to have more energy, are seemingly happier, and haven’t even wanted to drink more than a few beers daily. I mean, you’ve been going on jobs with me which is always a blast when you come. What could be so important that you cut back on food of all things?”

Logan mumbles an answer that Wade doesn’t hear.

“I’m sorry, honey badger, could you say that for the whole class to hear?” Wade pushes.

“My suit’s tight,” Logan barely whispers as his ears pinken.

“Your suit’s tight?” Wade’s eyes incredulously asks. Logan refuses to make eye contact and stares at the table.

“Yeah, ok?! I need to lose some weight,” Logan rumbles angrily.

Wade leans back and relaxes his body, trying to seem as non-threatening to the upset beastly of the man who has his heart. “I do sew, Logan. Why don’t you let me help you out with this?”

Logan snorts and shakes his head. “Even I know letting clothes out, let alone this suit, is challenging without matching…everything,” he acknowledges. Wade is surprised Logan understands the complexities of sewing.

“True, but I know how to get matching material and where ,” Wade grins, haughtily.

Tag: @asgardiansofthegalaxyvol3

Logan moving in with Wade and gaining weight because not only is he eating three square meals a day, but he also picked up baking because both Al and Wade have a sweet tooth, and of course the sweets are there, he’s going to eat them too. But now he’s getting kind of chubby. Which isn’t a problem really. He looks healthier than he has in decades. Except…

Wade stopped flirting with him. Straight up just stopped. And yeah Logan’s been ignoring it right along because he knows Wade isn’t actually serious about it, but it was still kind of nice to be wanted. Especially since he came from a reality where he was literally the most hated man alive. And of course now he has actual feelings for Wade, he wants the option to be there.

So he decides to not only start going to the gym but also to stop eating. And of course Wade notices and has to sit him down and ask what’s up, he’s been super healthy lately why is he changing that

And Logan can’t admit why he’s doing it so he deflects. “So going to the gym isn’t healthy?”

“You practically live there now. You’re a certified gym rat. You’re overworked and underfed. THAT isn’t healthy.”

And they go back and forth until Logan finally admits it’s because he gained weight and doesn’t feel attractive anymore. “Hell, you don’t even flirt with me anymore and I’ve seen you hit on inanimate objects before.”

And Wade stares at him for like 10 full seconds before he busts out laughing, like genuinely knee slapping chuckle fest because, “You think I stopped flirting with you because I’m shallow??? You honestly think I look like a burn victims even uglier ball sack and I’m being picky with how someone else looks?”

Logan tries to shrug it off with a “Everyone has preferences.”

“Trust me, Peanut, it isn’t that.”

“So then what is it?”

And now it’s Wade’s turn to be defensive until he realizes their conversation is just going in circles and Logan won’t stop destroying his body until he comes clean. So he has to stare at the wall as he tells Logan that it isn’t that he’s not attracted to Logan’s body anymore, it’s that he’s hyper attracted to it now, that he looks so healthy, so well fed, so inadvertently loved, and that it’s a reminder of all the domesticity of their situation that he’s actually fallen in love and can’t trust himself to casually flirt with Logan anymore because he’s genuinely afraid he’s going to do something and ruin their friendship now.

And they make out sloppy style and confess their love to each other of course

[imsofreakingtired]

ok since the people are asking for a sequel to this fic... i must deliver 🫡

crawling back to you

content warning(s): angst - buT THERES A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR

"crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when you've had a few? 'cause i always do maybe i'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new."

~~~

Sevika catches you halfway back to the apartment. You are bathed in the neon light of the sign of the Last Drop several steps ahead, making you feel like a hologram. That might have been all you were to Sevika. A hologram. Something pleasant to look at, not tempting enough to touch.

“Baby,” she says, “let me explain.” 

She’s not even out of breath. Your world is falling apart and she probably just decided to walk leisurely after you, as if you barely mattered more than just another one of her girls. 

You avoid her gaze. “I thought you were busy tonight.” 

“I am,” she snaps. “This is ridiculous.” 

You’re silent.

“Did you actually think I was going to Babette's every night? You think I’d lie to you that way?” 

“I don't know,” you hiss. “Would you?” 

You know people are overhearing the two of you, but your anger bubbles over like a boiling vat of undiluted Shimmer. Sevika glares down at you, and you feel a twist in your heart. This is the end of everything. Even though she’s the one at fault, she’s the one with the records in Babette’s and not you, you feel like you’re the one pulling all the wrong strings. 

Your question hurts her more than she would ever let on. Of all the people who’d accuse her of lying, she never thought the dagger would be driven home by you. She wants to tell you she’s sorry, that she doesn’t know why she went into the arms of a stranger rather than risk being vulnerable to you. She wants to tell you all she was trying to do was protect you from her. She wants to ask: if she showed you the cracks in her skin where she’d broken and put herself together again, would you still stay?

But she can’t, because now there’s a wall of ice between you and you are already turning away. This time, she doesn’t follow. 

When she comes home late that night, the apartment is empty. 

~~~

You have found a small, run-down inn where the rats skitter beneath the floorboards and the water doesn’t run half the time, and you’ve sworn every single person you know to secrecy regarding your whereabouts. Every day that goes by feels heavier without Sevika. 

You smoke Shimmer vaporizers to escape the lonely silence of the room, you find work in a scrap metal shop and spend every waking minute of the day trying not to miss her. Trying not to fall into that endless pit of remorse. Go back, go back, get the fuck back and apologize. She was a mess when you met her. You know she can’t live without you. You’re terrified she might do something dangerous and reckless to herself, that she might hurt herself or worse. You find yourself wondering at night if she had eaten dinner or if she had just gone to sleep after a smoke and a shot of whiskey. You have nightmares of seeing her dead at your feet. 

One night it rains like Zaun has never seen before. It’s like the sky has opened up like a wailing mouth, or a gaping wound. Torrents of rainwater rush between buildings and submerge basements. It’s a night no one in their right mind would ever bother going out in. 

So of course that’s the night you hear the banging on your door. 

You open it, a broken bottle in hand, ready for a threat. You think it could be the manager, a sneaking thief who stealthily raises the price of the rooms with each passing week. 

Instead you see Sevika. 

Her prosthetic arm is detached and she isn’t wearing her cloak. Her hair is plastered wetly against her face. Her clothes are drenched. 

Your first thought: is she out of her mind?

Your second: oh my gods. She’s lost her mind.

“How did you know I was here?” You demand loudly. “Are you trying to catch your death?” 

The second part of the sentence comes out as instinct, and you’re embarrassed but it’s too late. Her brows were knit together like thunderclouds, but her expression softens slightly when she hears the concern in your voice. She had been preparing herself for anything. She was convinced you had already found someone new, and were living with them. Now there’s hope. You might still care about her. 

“Get the fuck in here,” you snap, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the room as if she’s a misbehaving child. You yank the moth-eaten sheets off the bed and throw them around her shoulders. “Are you drunk? Why aren’t you saying anything?” 

Fear pierces through your irritation. Has something happened? Is she sick? Is she running from something?

Sevika looks down at you, watching wordlessly as you try to rub the water off her skin. When you let go of her, she lets the sheets fall to the floor. 

You throw your hands up helplessly. “What are you doing here? Who told you I was here?” 

“You think I needed a gingerbread trail to find you?” 

You fall quiet, cursing yourself inwardly. Sevika probably knew where you were since the day you left. 

You know why she’s here. You can see it in her eyes, where all her unspoken emotions betray her. But she can’t translate them into words. She can’t say the words you need to hear. 

You sit down on the bed with a heavy sigh. The room is silent but for the sound of dripping water. Finally you speak. 

“Babette says you only went there once.” You look at her. “Why?” 

She looks down. “I was drunk.” 

“You gonna use that excuse every time from now on?”

“No,” she says sharply. “I thought—I thought I didn’t have you anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She shakes her head, frustrated. “I don’t know. I don’t know, I just—I—” 

She comes forward suddenly, and you instinctively draw back, thinking she might hit something. There’s a desperate look in her face that you’ve never seen before. But she doesn’t raise her hand. She kneels on the floor in front of you. 

“Sevika, what—?”

“Take me back,” she pleads, her voice rough. “I swear it’ll never happen again, so—take me back.” 

You try to stay angry. You try to push her away. But when you look in her dark grey eyes and see the tears standing on the lashes, you find you can’t do either. You feel the heat of her body against your knees, and as you slowly remove the string tying her hair and run your fingers through the wet strands you realize with a pang just how badly you missed her. 

Sevika gives a sigh and lays her head down in your lap. 

“You’re not entirely forgiven yet,” you tell her. 

“I know,” she says, her voice muffled. 

It’s as close as she’ll ever come to saying she’s sorry. You think it’s not a bad start. 

~~~

note: your honor she is just a sad wet puppy in the rain and has done nothing wrong in her life ever 😭🙏

~~~

taglist~

@notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @ 00valentina-writes00  @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @lez-zuha @mascdom @tiyawnyana  

[mameillieureennemie]

crawling back, slightly ashamed, slightly desperate... if u could spare any sort of vi taking care of u after work... i know I was just very freaky and rough, but gentle.. gentle 😭🙏🙏🙏 ON MY KNEES PLEEEASE I BEG (no rush, duh, but I jus... have back pain and need some vi idc how HEHAHA)

babes, i feel you so hard on this because my back also hurts, and i hate this time of the month for real. but i gotchu, honey, and here are my thoughts. 😩

vi adores looking after you when you come home. she's always counting down the minutes from when you send her the message that you're heading home. once she receives that message, vi instantly on the move to make your homecoming as perfect as possible.

the thing is—you two have been dating for a while now. a few years of a romance that never stops being whirlwind, even when it simmers into that comforting flame old lovers carry. with years under the belt, some might think that the effort doesn't need to need to continue. that it shouldn't be a pressure to uphold because you know each other, what more is left to discover? what more is left to impress?

vi would rather eat her own fist than allow that to happen. she'd rather kick herself than allow herself to slip up in any way when it comes to you. because you are the very air she breathes, the very reason for her existence, and nothing can ever make her feel differently. so she'll treasure you like the gem you are, ensure you're well-cared for and attended to with the utmost respect.

sometimes, she believes that is why she's here—to cater to you.

so regardless of the years, vi still treats your homecoming with the grandeur it deserves. she's already started dinner an hour ago, has laid your lounge wear (pajama shorts and always one of her shirts) on the bed, and has gotten a bath running five minutes before you're at the door.

when she hears the keys jingle in the lock, vi is instantly at the door with open arms.

then the best part comes—seeing your face.

you look exhausted, eyes heavy with tiredness and mouth downturned by a frown. you seem annoyed today, maybe something happened at work. you'll eventually tell her, you always do. but the second you see her, all of that melts away like the winter's chill driven away by the sun's warmth.

your downturned mouth is flipped upside down; you're smiling, soft yet brilliant, and you fall into her arms with a grateful sigh. vi is prepared, forever ready to catch you, and holds you close with solid arms tight around your waist.

"hey, princess," she murmurs, pressing sweet kisses into your head. you react beautifully, leaning up into them like an eager cat depraved of affection. "rough day today?"

you let out a tiny grunt, nuzzling deep into her neck, before you say softly, "yeah, but i'm home with you now. that's all i care about."

vi's heart instantly turns thunderous in her chest, her love for you too overwhelming. she may just squeeze you until you squeak because it's so hard to control herself around you. but she does, barely, and pulls you back a little so she can look at your lovely face.

you're still smiling, so adoringly too, and vi might very well melt into a puddle.

"i've got dinner simmering on the stove," she says, gently taking off your coat. you allow her, going limp as she tenderly manhandles you. "and a nice bath waiting for you, so go jump in and relax."

you nod happily, eyes fluttering half-closed, as you reach for her hand. you entwine your fingers, walking around vi so you can pull her towards the bathroom.

"join me?" you ask sweetly, hopeful, and vi wonders how you'd ever think she'd say no.

"of course, sweetheart."

[megalony]

Matters Of The Heart- Part 2

It's been too long since I posted the first part of this Evan Buckley imagine, but here is finally the second part.

I hope you will all like it, feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan keep their relationship private, but they're happy. But when (Y/n) falls pregnant, she doesn't know what to do; she's suffered miscarriages before and worries this will end up the same way.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So… how'd it go? You never said." Hen slumped herself down on the sofa and folded her left arm over the back of the sofa. She propped her head up on her hand and curled her knees up on the seat while her eyes focused on the girl sitting in front of her.

(Y/n) couldn't lift her gaze from the steaming cup of coffee she was nursing like she was trying to bring it back to life. Her fingers grazed up and down the red speckled cup and she brought her knees closer to her chest before she finally looked up.

Part of (Y/n) hoped they wouldn't have to have this conversation. It was unnaturally easy to know just what subject Hen was talking about without needing any other details.

Hen had become more than a little nervous after finding (Y/n) with the pregnancy test last week. And she was growing more and more worried by the day when she didn't get a call or even a text to say how it had ended up.

"You can talk to me, you know."

She knew. (Y/n) knew she could open up to Hen with just about anything. She could of said she'd murdered someone and Hen would still try to understand and help her through it. That was how close they had gotten while working together and it was something (Y/n) loved about her friend. That she was always so willing to listen attentively and try to help in any way she could.

But (Y/n) didn't want any help right now, even if part of her wondered if she needed it.

A big part of her was saying to lie. False alarm. It was negative. Nothing to worry about. Her mind was screaming at her to tell any one of those lies and brush this under the rug. Push it away and hope that the conversation, and the event itself, would fade into a distant memory.

But telling a lie didn't make it a truth, no matter how hard (Y/n) wished for it to be so. She took a quick look around the loft, making sure no one else was within ear shot before she spoke.

"Positive." The word fell from her lips like a droplet of rain cascading down from the clouds. Quiet, soft, disappearing as soon as it was seen.

She watched Hen move her hand round from cradling the back of her head to run across her mouth and across her cheek. The way Hen pursed her lips and looked down showed she was trying to think. She was trying to come up with an answer, some sort of comforting phrase or some logic that might make this seem less frightening.

"Have you gone to the doctors yet? I'll go with you if you want." Hen knew it was frightening to go to the doctors for just about any reason. Let alone going to talk about a new pregnancy like this when (Y/n) was already so worried and certain that it would end badly.

If she didn't want to go alone- something Hen would not recommend at all- then Hen would gladly go along with her for moral support and help her talk through this and decide what she wanted to do.

"I'm not going, at least not yet." Maybe it was the stubbornness within her heart, but (Y/n) didn't want to.

She didn't want to see a doctor and have this dream confirmed, only to have it crushed in a few weeks. Her mind was made up on the fact that pregnancy was not something her body was capable of doing.

(Y/n) would rather wait a few weeks and see if she miscarried. If by some miracle she didn't, then she would go to the doctor and see if this was going to be possible and get herself checked out. She would rather live in denial than try and bask in this dream because all dreams broke eventually. Everyone had to wake up and this was going to be a harsh awakening when it eventually happened.

"You should get checked out, after last time you might develop complications, we should make sure you're okay at least."

Tears bubbled over in (Y/n)'s eyes but she did her best to push them aside and she took a large gulp of coffee. Relishing in the way it burned the back of her throat and ignited something in her chest and calmed down the panicked butterflies swarming to life.

She knew having an ectopic pregnancy before put her at risk of having other complications. She could have another ectopic pregnancy, although it was rare, it wasn't unheard of. But (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't care because she couldn't let herself believe this was happening. Ignoring this was the only way (Y/n) knew how to cope.

This was something she wanted. This was something she would choose, to have a baby, and to see Evan with a baby made (Y/n)'s heart do a funny sort of leap in her chest like it was agreeing with her.

But if she told him now and then she lost the baby, she would have given Evan unnecessary heartbreak and all for nothing. And if (Y/n) let herself indulge in this fantasy and believe she was going to have a baby, how bad was it going to be when the bubble burst?

"Not yet."

"Then… then can you promise me you'll get an appointment in what, two or three weeks? You need to look after yourself and you know the rules; if you are, you can't be on full duties." Hen lowered her voice towards the end of her words and ducked her head closer to (Y/n)'s as if to make sure only she heard those words.

They had rules at the station for a reason and (Y/n) had to look after herself. She had to make sure she was okay to be at work and that she wasn't struggling or having any complications that could put her at risk.

And if she was pregnant, she had to be on restricted duties to keep her and the baby safe. That wasn't negotiable and Hen didn't want to get to the point where she had to go and talk to Bobby for (Y/n)'s safety or find out (Y/n) was trying to hide this pregnancy from everyone and carry on working. She would put herself at risk and if she got hurt or she collapsed, they would all feel responsible.

Not to mention the fact that (Y/n) wouldn't be liable for sick leave or any compensation and could in fact be reprimanded if she was hurt while pregnant on the job and hadn't disclosed the news at the earliest opportunity.

"Two weeks, I swear."

It didn't feel like enough time. (Y/n) could feel her throat closing up and her head started to swim at the thought of a timer she had now set off in the back of her head.

Two weeks. That was barely any time at all, but it was the limit because (Y/n) knew she had to be two or closer to three months along by now. And fourteen weeks was as far as she had ever gotten before she lost the baby. She had to get checked out before that marker to see if she was in danger and then she would need to be careful.

She would need to wait for the inevitable.

In two weeks, she would make herself an appointment with her doctor and ask Hen to tag along with her so she didn't have to do this on her own.

"Are you going to tell Eddie? I think you should, you need support-"

"It's not Eddie's."

She couldn't help the sharp tone to her voice or the way she cringed as she spoke. Somehow, (Y/n) felt like she was making a scene of herself by admitting that fact, simply because it implied she had been with someone else. It wasn't as if she had ever cheated on Eddie and they had never been in a labelled relationship. It had simply been a fling when they both needed someone, and it ended on good terms.

But (Y/n) didn't like admitting that she had gotten into another relationship and hadn't mentioned it to anyone on the team. That she hadn't mentioned it to Hen, her best friend. It made her feel sleezy, like she had a secret that was too sordid to tell.

(Y/n) put her cup down on the coffee table and let her feet slide down to the floor. "I told you, we're just friends. Besides, that was almost two years ago."

She could see it. She could see in Hen's eyes that she wanted to ask. She wanted to be curious and ask if (Y/n) had met someone special or if she was finally happy with someone. Because for the last few months, she had started to notice a change in (Y/n). She was happier, more confident in herself and her work and she was starting to come out of her shell and go out after work.

There was someone that made (Y/n) happy and that was all that Hen had ever wanted for her.

But before Hen could ask, a familiar alarm blared out above them and both girls groaned and dropped their heads forward.

A new call.

Here we go again.

***

"He's coding, starting compressions." A deep grunt left Evan's lips as he pushed up from his seat in the ambulance until he was bent over the gurney.

His hands interlocked and pressed down against the victim's chest as he began CPR compressions. He tensed his back and pushed his knees into the frame of the gurney to keep steady when the ambulance swerved to the left.

His eyes glanced up to the right to check Chimney had the air bag placed over the victim's nose and mouth to give him oxygen while Evan kept pressing down. CPR never settled well with Evan after he had tried to save someone once and fractured two of her ribs. He could still hear the spine-tingling crunch and the way he felt the bone cave beneath his hands and he hadn't even applied that much pressure.

But he could see that Chimney had his hands full trying to stem the bleeding in the man's neck and give him a saline drip. There was no use Chimney moving round when Evan was sat right at the man's side and available to do the compressions.

This wasn't the direction Evan imagined today's shift going. The daily reports got heavier when they had to give CPR and if the man didn't survive that would mean triple the paperwork. This was the part of the job that always made Evan nervous. He could climb cranes and run into burning buildings and clip to a harness and go down into craters. But having to try and keep someone's heart beating and giving them each breath they needed, that didn't settle right with him. It was too panicking.

Why had he been the one to climb in the back of the ambulance? This should have been Eddie or even (Y/n), both of them were trained medics. Evan wasn't a medic. But they had been giving statements to the police on scene, Hen was driving the ambulance and that meant Evan had to be the one to move the gurney along with Chimney and look after their victim.

It was a relief when the ambulance screeched to a stop and Evan knew he could soon hand this patient over to the professionals. This wasn't part of the job he wanted to be doing, he would rather let the doctors take over.

"Still no pulse," Chimney locked eyes with Evan who paused his compressions to check for a pulse.

With a deep breath, he began pressing down again as Hen opened the back door. They had to keep going, he had only just lost his pulse, they could keep his heart going until the doctors got it working properly or pronounced him dead.

"We need to move him." Evan locked eyes with Hen and dipped his head towards the end of the gurney so she got his point.

He would continue compressions if they would move the gurney and get them into the hospital.

Evan glanced down, never pausing his movements as he stood onto the metal beams beneath the gurney that he prayed would take his weight. The grooves of his boots slotted over the metal and locked him in place while his knees bent and locked in place and he hunched forward to keep his sense of balance.

There was no way Evan could successfully continue compressions if he had to walk and rush beside the stretcher. He needed to be stood in place and the only way to do that was to climb onto the gurney too.

He continued compressions while Chimney and Hen carefully clicked off the brakes and slid the gurney down from the ambulance onto the floor.

Evan couldn't look up from his task, he was far too focused and intent on keeping a steady compression rhythm, but his arms were beginning to grow tired and his back was aching. They were supposed to switch every two minutes because continuous compressions was a hard thing to keep up.

Although he didn't look up, Evan could hear the sound of the fire truck's sirens before they were switched off and the rumbling engine quietened down. Bobby, (Y/n) and Eddie had turned up on scene.

A quiet "Oh Jesus," muttered beneath Eddie's breath and his hands clamped down on his hips when they climbed down from the truck and looked over towards the rest of the team. They were performing CPR. Thing weren't looking good for their victim.

The sight of Evan hunched over the gurney, fingers interlaced, shoulders squared up and back doubled over made (Y/n)'s blood curdle. Evan looked so engrossed in his task, so determined and desperate and she could see his lips were curled into a rabid look that was making his nose crinkle.

He never took it well when they lost people on the job.

(Y/n) bound her arms around her middle as she followed after the gurney, her eyes locked on Evan. She followed along behind Chimney who was pushing the gurney while Hen was at the other end, pulling and steering them in the right direction.

She could feel Eddie and Bobby hovering close behind, the sound of their footsteps bashing on the pavement echoed in (Y/n)'s head that felt like a drum being violently whacked until it was about to split like a coconut.

It took all her effort to stop herself from breaking out into trembles. They had been working all day without a proper break and (Y/n) hadn't managed to stomach any lunch. She knew that once they got back to the station she would have to try and have a protein drink and take a minute to rest and build herself back up before they went on another call.

"Come on, let's go."

The guttural sound of Evan's voice made (Y/n) shudder and she picked up her pace even though she knew he wasn't talking to her, he was telling Chimney and Hen to hurry with the gurney.

Reaching one hand out, Chimney pressed his palm down on Evan's back to try and steady him as they steered through into the paramedic entrance to the emergency room. He knew Evan wasn't about to fall off but the twisting corners was making it harder for him to keep his balance and perform the resuscitation compressions.

As soon as a free nurse saw them, she waved them along and the stretcher was moving again, setting Evan's body back to being tense and stiff as a board to stay composed.

"He coded on the way, no pulse for one minute, punctured artery in the neck."

"Someone needs to take over from me now." Evan continued his compressions but his own chest was heaving and his arms were aching. Not to mention keeping his balance was causing his knees to bruise against the gurney and his thighs were locking up from how tense he had become.

He was grateful when a nurse hurried over to the opposite side of the gurney and on the count of three, Evan pulled back to let her start the compressions instead.

His legs felt like they had turned to liquid and from his ankles up to his thighs he was trembling with pins and needles and excess adrenaline.

His hand tangled in the short curls at the back of his head and he took a few steps away from the stretcher that was already being guided away. While Chimney gave the full spiel to one of the nurses so they had all the information they needed.

"Alright guys, I think that's our part over."

Bobby's voice seemed to go in one ear and out the other for (Y/n). She heard him, but she couldn't register what he was saying. Each word sounded foreign and she could make no sense of them. All she could fathom was how horrid her heartbeat sounded pulsing through her ears and how it was making her chest feel uncomfortable to notice and feel each beat rock through her chest.

Her nose crinkled and her eyes scanned around the corridor they were blocking. Maybe she needed to go back outside and get some fresh air and sit down.

She didn't get chance to try and walk outside. (Y/n)'s legs didn't feel like they were under her control anymore.

When her head lolled forward, her body followed its sense of direction and before she could reach out or stop herself, her body crumpled to the floor like a puppet without its strings. Her chin tucked down into her chest and white static filled her ears when her head collided with the polished laminate floor.

Her arms flopped around her waist and (Y/n) barely had the energy she needed to scrape her arms along the floor and bind them around her middle. She wanted to curl her knees and bring them up to her stomach, but it was too much effort that she didn't have.

"Shit!"

"(Y/n)? Hey, hey what's going on?"

Evan's nails scratched into the back of his scalp so suddenly that he hissed in pain as he spun on his heels to look behind him. His wide eyes narrowed slightly when he looked at his girlfriend and he could feel his chest stutter and pause as he tried to take in what was happening and why she was suddenly flat out on the floor.

Evan tried. He tried to bottle down the panic and overwhelming sense of urgency that was making him desperate to rush over there and push his colleagues out the way. No one knew about their relationship yet and Evan didn't think this would be the right time to break that news.

They were only keeping things quiet so it didn't cause any speculation or drama at work. And for Eddie's sake. Evan knew Eddie wouldn't be resentful, but it might make things awkward if he learned that his best friend was now in a relationship with someone Eddie used to have a fling with. They didn't want work to become awkward or for their friendships to be strained in any way.

Shallow breaths stuttered past Evan's lips as he skidded against the floor and hurried after Chimney to crowd around (Y/n). Both of them leaned in close but it took all of Evan's willpower not to crouch down and take over. He wasn't a medic and he didn't want them to know how close he really was to (Y/n).

He swallowed harshly when he watched Eddie and Hen crouch down beside (Y/n).

Eddie whipped the pen light from his top pocket and carefully held (Y/n)'s temple, tilting her head back so he could flash the light across her pupils that were constricting and barely able to see a thing.

"She's burning up." Eddie flipped his hand over so the back of his hand was pressed against (Y/n)'s forehead, but he could feel the sweat that was sticking his hand to her skin. She was burning a fever and she looked flushed. Why hadn't she said something? Why hadn't any of them noticed this earlier?

Panic bridled through Hen but she did her best to calm herself down while she pointed one hand behind her. "Chim, medic bag."

Once the bag was in her hand, Hen rummaged through and found a blood pressure cuff which she slid up (Y/n)'s arm while Eddie focused on trying to get (Y/n) to form a coherent word and focus. And Bobby's footsteps could be heard retreating down the hall to find a nurse. (Y/n) would needed to be examined and checked out before they even thought about taking her back to the station.

Even if this was just a funny turn or a sickness bug, she would have to be seen by a doctor and then signed off for the rest of her shift.

"(Y/n), are you still with me? Does anything hurt?" Eddie clipped an oxygen monitor onto her index finger and watched to see what reading he got for her pulse. But his eyes continuously flitted up to (Y/n)'s face, waiting to see if she would or if she even could answer him.

Her eyes were rolling around and trying their best to focus on him but she was half unconscious.

A groan left her lips and her body jerked before she pressed her cheek and temple into the ground. But when her lips parted, her throat tightened and she spewed up a puddle of water. Not surprising since she hadn't managed to eat any lunch today.

"Okay, I think she's gonna be dehydrated." Eddie tried his best to be careful when he nudged (Y/n) back towards the wall so she wasn't near the water she'd just thrown up.

He edged closer to her, relieved when her eyes finally opened and she seemed a bit more coherent and like she was able to see him this time rather than stare right through him as if he were invisible.

"BP's starting to crash. She's either run down or caught an infection, she needs to be admitted." Hen rolled up the blood pressure cuff and folded it back into the medic bag and her hands braced on her thighs as she resisted the urge to sigh.

It wasn't her place to tell anyone on the team that (Y/n) was pregnant and that this could be due to morning sickness. And she certainly didn't want to think about this meaning (Y/n) might just be losing the baby. Hen knew (Y/n) was dead set on the fact that she believed this wasn't going to work out. She didn't think she could have a baby and she seemed to be waiting for the day that it went downhill and this dream faded into a nightmare.

Hen wanted to believe that this was simply (Y/n) being rundown or suffering with a bit of sickness rather than thinking. But in the end it didn't matter what Hen chose to believe or even what (Y/n) was thinking right now. All that mattered was getting a doctor to check her over and find out what was happening.

"Alright guys let's get her on the stretcher and someone will take a look at her." Bobby patted Hen's shoulder and indicated to the stretcher behind him where a nurse was standing by.

There were assessment cubicles free, the nurse would take (Y/n) into one of them and check her over. They couldn't stay here in case other ambulances came back and needed to come through. They were blocking the corridor.

Evan took that as his moment to weave in between Hen and Eddie so he could try and make himself useful. He didn't like standing back and watching, especially when it was (Y/n) who needed help. And Hen seemed to understand because she shuffled back and got to her feet to help guide the stretcher over, letting Evan take her place.

He tried to catch (Y/n)'s eye once Eddie eased her into a sitting position, but she wouldn't look at him. She wouldn't look at any of them, her eyes were trained on her trembling hands that were laid limp against her thighs.

He slid his hands beneath (Y/n)'s thighs, trying not to grip her too tightly while Eddie hooked his hands beneath her arms and on the count of three, they lifted her between them. They eased her onto the stretcher and Evan didn't like the way (Y/n)'s head lolled to the right like she was about to slide back onto the floor.

Evan quickly reached his hand up to hold (Y/n)'s shoulder, gently pushing her back against the stretcher to keep her in place.

The nurse and Eddie began steering the stretcher down the corridor towards the assessment cubicles with the team following along like an entourage. When Evan heard Chimney mutter to Bobby "Do we stay with her?" he turned in their direction and stood outside the cubicle that (Y/n) got wheeled into.

"I can stay." Evan knew it wasn't strictly protocol for everyone to stay, no matter how close they all were and how they all wanted to make sure (Y/n) was alright. The rest of the team would need to go back to the station to finish shift and handover to the next crew. And they were already a person down with (Y/n) now being here.

"Are you sure Buck?"

"My shift is technically finished anyway, I'll stay with her and when I know what's happening I'll call you."

He would be finishing in twenty minutes or so, there was no point everyone staying or someone else staying and Evan going back to the station for a mere twenty minutes. He may as well wait along with (Y/n). Plus, he was her partner. There was no way Evan could go back on shift and just wait around for news. He would finish and come straight back here anyway.

He didn't quite like the look of contemplation on Eddie's face as he stood in the doorway, hands on hips and one knee jutting forward. He looked like he wanted to interrupt, to debate and say that he wanted to stay instead. But when Bobby nodded and patted Evan's shoulder, Eddie seemed to relent.

He couldn't really argue when the rest of them needed to be back on shift and they all couldn't stay here.

A look of contemplation flooded Hen's eyes as she leaned over the bed (Y/n) had been transferred onto. She knew she would have to go now with the rest of the team, but she wanted to double check (Y/n) was okay with that. If she wanted Hen to stay or talk to the doctors for her, then she would.

Her hand slid down to hold (Y/n)'s. "Do you need me to call anyone for you? If you want me to stay-"

(Y/n) shook her head. It was hard to do when the movement made her eyes roll and sent her stomach churning from the unbalance it caused, but she continued to shake her head. She didn't want Hen to try and call anyone for her. The only person she needed was Evan and he was currently stood in the doorway with that determined look that said he wasn't going anywhere.

She just needed Hen to keep quiet for a little bit longer, to not mention the pregnancy to anyone. Especially not Eddie or Evan. Who knew, after today (Y/n) might not have to think about it again.

(Y/n) could barely keep her eyes in focus with the tears that were beginning to roll down her face.

She tried to focus as Hen squeezed her hand before she left the room, trading places with Evan.

Both her arms bound around her middle once again to try and settle her system. She felt a great urge to be sick, but (Y/n) knew there was nothing left in her system. The few drinks of juice she had tried to have earlier had been spewed in the corridor. She was probably running on last reserves and had over-exerted herself today.

Or maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of the dream. Perhaps this was when she lost another pregnancy and reality finally came crashing back down on her like a tidal wave from the ocean. It didn't matter that (Y/n) had been telling herself this was going to happen, it still made her heart break all the same.

Her knees tried to coil up towards her middle but (Y/n) didn't have the energy to keep them tensed up and her heels scraped against the bed as her legs slid back down again.

She tried to tilt her head down when Evan walked into the room and when he sat down on the edge of the bed, (Y/n) didn't dare look up.

Her pulse was throbbing in her ears and her fever felt like it was raging the same heat as a volcano, especially when Evan's hand took one of hers and their fingers interlaced together. His fingers danced across the back of her hand and squeezed every few seconds and (Y/n) could feel his hip nudging her thigh, trying to gain her attention.

When she continued to stare down at their hands rather than look up at him, Evan gently leaned forward and pressed his free hand beneath her chin. His thumb traced along her lower lip and he aimed her head up so she was looking at him. But he still found it hard to catch her eye and get her to focus on him rather than try to look at anything else in the room.

Why was she avoiding him?

"The nurse won't be long… you didn't really eat lunch today, did you? You've probably been doing too much." The concern laced into Evan's voice made (Y/n) shiver and she couldn't keep eye contact with him any longer.

Her chin tilted down, nudging into his touch but a dozen more tears drenched her face. And when her lower lip began to wobble and quiet cries left her lips, Evan tensed up. He hadn't meant to make her cry. He wasn't trying to have a go at her or be rude, he was only trying to calm her down and make her feel better.

He had noticed her barely touch her lunch- not that they'd had a lot of time to sit down and eat with the constant calls they had been going out on today. But he noticed, and he knew she wasn't drinking as much as the rest of them either. Evan suspected she had just been working too hard, pushing herself too much without a break and this was the end result.

"Sweetheart, it's okay-"

"N-no it's not." (Y/n) hiccupped through her words and tilted her head down again so she wouldn't have to look at him and his sorrowful expression.

"What do you mean?"

Was she sick? Well, of course she was sick, but was there something more to it than that? Did (Y/n) have a condition or something seriously wrong with her that she hadn't told Evan or the rest of the team?

Evan didn't like the sound of that. A sceptical look flooded his face as his hand tightened around hers and he brought her hand to rest on his lap while his head inclined to one side once their eyes finally locked again. He didn't like the panic he could see building up in (Y/n)'s eyes. He didn't like the way her lower lip was wobbling and she was starting to sob and shake at the same time.

"Baby…" (Y/n) could barely keep her eyes open when her head started to spin and Evan started to blur before her eyes. Her hand squeezed his before she pulled their entwined hands from his thigh to move his hand against her stomach instead. "Baby."

She repeated the word again and pressed Evan's hand into her stomach until he got the hint. She didn't want to have to say the words out loud. She didn't want to tell Evan at all.

But he wasn't going anywhere and as much as (Y/n) would of preferred to have Hen witness this rather than break Evan's soul with this dilemma, he was here. (Y/n) needed him to stay here with her and she needed him to know because she would have to tell the nurse when she came in.

(Y/n) would have to tell the doctor so they knew to check if this was a miscarriage like (Y/n) suspected. And she couldn't hide this from Evan for long. She should have told him already; she knew that.

Evan let (Y/n) press his hand down on her stomach for a bit longer. He couldn't find the will to move, let alone the power to speak. He didn't know what to do with himself or now to comprehend what she was clearly trying to tell him.

"You're pregnant?"

A look of panic flooded Evan's face when (Y/n) nodded just as the door opened and a nurse walked in.

His blue eyes seemed to ignite and (Y/n) was sure that at any moment he was going to start crying too. Shivers coursed through Evan's body and his free hand moved to drag through his hair, catching the curls between his fingers and pulling until it felt like he was going to tear them from his scalp.

"Ooh (Y/n)!" Her name hissed past Evan's lips as he snapped his eyes closed and dragged his hand from his hair to run down his face.

Why didn't she tell him sooner? Why didn't she tell him when she found out? How long had she known and left Evan in the dark? He could see clearly that she was only telling him now because she didn't know whether her sudden collapse was because she was sick, or because it had something to do with the baby.

(Y/n) shivered when she felt Evan's hand tighten around hers and his nails pierced into the back of her hand as he turned to look at the nurse who was now standing beside the bed.

He could hear her mumbling 'high blood pressure' and 'fever' and 'collapsed' under her breath as she looked through the notes she had been given. The notes which had been written down in haste before the rest of the team had left to head back to the station.

"She's pregnant."

He watched the nurse's eyes widen before she added that to the chart. "I'll need to take some blood samples and send them to pathology."

Evan nodded despite the way (Y/n) turned her head away from the nurse and nuzzled her face into the pillow as she whimpered. She didn't do well with needles and having her bloods done when she felt like this would only make her feel faint. But she knew she didn't have a choice.

She was half expecting Evan to let go of her hand and walk away from her. She thought he might stand in the corner of the room and refuse to talk to her while he tried to wrap his head around this news. He had every right to be upset with her. (Y/n) didn't want to know how he would of reacted if he knew that deep down, she wasn't going to tell him at all if this hadn't of happened.

Her mind started to wander and when she closed her eyes, (Y/n) found that she didn't hold the energy to try and open them again. Maybe going to sleep might make her feel better. Maybe this would all be a bad, distant dream by the time she woke up. If only.

But she managed to hear what Evan whispered in that broken voice that made (Y/n)'s already aching heart pulse and throb.

"Why didn't you tell me?"