#pregnant reader!

[loveanddeepdick]

ᯓ★ babydaddy!toji would never admit that he got jealous when you were around guys your age. he’d never get insecure, no, but he felt a deep pang of jealously in his chest. like he prayed that he had been born later so he could be more similar to you. your relationship with him was complicated. you were dating on and off but finally just settled as friends with benefits (who took care of a ridiculously cute baby together).

your parents often asked you why you dated a guy who was less than a decade away from being your father. your friends did the same too, not seeing the appeal in being with a “broke old man”. you never understood why toji just scoffed and looked away. it was out of character since he’d usually just cuss people out.

babydaddy!toji who let his jealousy show a little too much when you ran into an old high school friend of yours while you were out shopping. toji had to piss and you were waiting outside when he came up to you. shit, you didn’t even recognize him at first and the conversation was merely small talk but when toji came out, he had his arm around your waist, his hands coming down a little too low.

“this is your uh.. boyfriend, yeah?”, you friend asked, his eyes immediately going to the hand on your waist. most people just assumed you were single again.

“you could say that..”, you sheepishly replied, trying to swat toji’s hand away.

“tsk why’re you acting like i didn’t just dick you down and you didn’t carry my baby, ma? course you’re mine”, toji scoffed, looking away.

your eyes dart from your friend’s to his and it finally clicked. he was jealous. with a small smile, you excused yourself and tugged on the hem of toji’s shirt, signaling him to walk out to his car. the walk there was filled with short protests from him and silence from you. of course, he didn’t mean it, he loved this kind of attention from you. as you got to his car you rummaged through his pants pocket to grab his keys—not being shy to graze his dick—and unlocked the car.

babydaddy!toji who’d never admit he was jealous, even when you two were making out in the middle of a mall parking lot with your hand on his crotch.

“admit it, you still—ah, you still love me and you were jealous”

“course i fuckin love you—fuck yeah,keep your hand there—we’re long over, ma. didn’t you say we were just friends with benefits?”

“you’re avoiding the question, toji”

he had his hands all over you at this point, tugging at your shirt but you pulled away and furrowed your eyebrows.

“admit that you were jealous, old perv”

“fuck—fine. i was jealous. i hate seeing you with men younger than me. makes me feel old. happy now, doll?”, he leaned in again, grabbing your face as you kissed back with a smirk.

“yeah, i’m elated”, you grinned, trailing your hand up to play with his dark happy trail and dipping it in his sweatpants.

“don’t be a fuckin brat, ma. m’gonna give you a second snotty little shit if you keep this up”, toji growled, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone

“yeah?“, you smirked, tangling your fingers in his hair as you guided him down, “keep that promise and maybe we’ll get married”

babydaddy!toji who was definitely going to take you in the backseat for hours. fuck driving home.

babydaddy!toji who nearly died at the spot from the news of you being pregnant not with just one baby, but twins. you ended the year with a ring and a freshly painted nursery.

[stargirlrchive]

simon’s work wife

one — two — three — four

people start calling u simon’s work wife and he takes it literally. starts referring to you as the ‘missus’, your cheeks warming as his heavy hand rest on your hips to pull you into him.

he’s snarling at one of the recruits that stared at you a little too long for his liking, caging you in against his big ass frame. that same recruit later coming to you a stuttering mess, apologizing because he didn’t know you were married.

you aren’t, but you’re too shocked to comment on it.

and when you confront simon he just shrugs his shoulders lazily, staring at you with darkened eyes as he mumbles, “ya’ didn’t deny it.”

it ends with you moving in, you aren’t sure how it started—or if you were even in an actual relationship but everywhere and anywhere you go he’s calling you his wife.

[noonecareslol]

𒀯𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

Anaxiphilia: love for or attraction to unsuitable mates; an act of falling in love with the wrong person

Hwang In-Ho x Fem! Reader

wc! 7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you move away from your childhood best friend (and first love), the last place you expected to see him was stuck with you as a “player”.

TW: Violence (duh its squid game), cursing, smut 18+ pnv, unsafe sex, probably pregnant lol

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ ��� ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Classical music filled your ears as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. It played throughout the room as you woke slowly and attempted to make sense of your surroundings. But, as you looked at the number placed on your tracksuit you remembered where you were.

Or at least why you were there.

You were never uncomfortable growing up. You were actually quite wealthy. Your father owned a very successful company, your mother invested money intuitively, and life seemed to improve daily. That was until you were 17 and news broke that your father’s company was a front. A money laundering business that cleaned his filthy money from years and years of fraud. When they died, they left you a monumental amount of debt. And when a suspiciously attractive guy handed you a little brown card, you couldn’t help but call the number on the back.

You knew the games were too good to be true. And you realized you were right after the first one. It took you 30 minutes to wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.

Now you were standing next to a girl with the number “222” written on her tracksuit, watching as an older lady and her son begged the guards to let them go. You fiddled with your hands, flinching at the rawness after scrubbing them relentlessly. Your attention was grabbed when another person stepped through the crowd.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Your eyes trained on him as he spoke angrily, “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.”

Your heart stopped. You could go home and be safe. But you would still be drowning in debt. You bit your lip, remembering about the share of money you would receive. Would you have enough to cover it?

As if the guards could read your mind, a large piggy bank lowered from the ceiling, “The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” Every eye watched as the piggy bank began to fill, “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

Another man shoves past the crowd, “And how much is that?”

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Exasperated sighs and annoyed words broke out amongst the crowd. But your eyes stayed trained on the man who first spoke, “456” written on his chest.

The pink guard spoke loudly, “The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The crowd stayed silent, “The total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won.”

The crowd erupted again, full of enthusiastic words and motivated cheers. The girl next to you placed her hands over her stomach, almost cradling it closer to her body.

If you went home now, you wouldn’t even have enough to cover a third of your debt. But if you stay and continue the games, you could die.

The doors opened and two guards wheeled out a metal podium with two buttons, a red X and a blue O. “Now, let’s begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.”

“Player 456.”

The same man from before stepped forward without hesitation. As he walked to the podium his stride was filled with wrath and as he slammed his palm against the X, his eye contact didn’t break with the guard.

The voting continued, each person stepping forward to decide whether to live or die. Each time either button was pressed you silently celebrated, still not sure if you should stay or go.

“Player number two.”

Your face fell as your eyes centered on the podium. And with each slow step you took, you became more sure of your decision. And as you reached the podium, you had made up your mind entirely.

A high beep rang through the room as your face reflected the blue button. You decided to continue. Flinching at the sound of defeated sighs from behind, you took the patch embroidered with an O and joined the other voters.

“Player number one.”

You hadn’t cared to look at the man when he was standing next to you earlier. But now that he was about to break a tie, your eyes were locked on him. You didn’t catch his face but you studied his figure. He had a tall frame and dark brown hair that seemed to be styled perfectly. He walked with a thick sense of confidence and you hadn’t failed to notice how his tracksuit clung to his biceps.

You watched intensely as he lifted his hand and hovered between the two buttons. The room held suspension and your eyes were locked on his hand. He hesitated for a few more moments before pressing his hand down. Blue light illuminated his face and the surrounding crowd cheered as he walked from the podium.

He had selected to stay. To play another game where you, or him, could die. You voted for that too. So why aren’t you happy about winning?

Because he’s turned around now and you’ve seen his face. And you would recognize that face anywhere.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I don't understand, you’re moving?” He grasped the sides of your face, afraid to let go.

You looked at the boy in front of you who’ve you known your whole life. You went to private schools together, fancy parties together, and you shared your first time together. And now you’re leaving.

You placed your hands over his, “I don’t understand either In-ho. I want to stay, I don’t want to leave you.” Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as In-ho placed his forehead gently against yours.

You ignored your mother’s frantic yells for you to come and pack your things. You didn’t want to leave him. You loved him, and you knew if you left now you wouldn’t just be leaving your house. You’d be leaving your life behind. Your father would be arrested and your mother would have to work while taking care of you herself. You would move from Gangnam to Daegu. And you would have to start a new life. You just didn’t understand why In-ho couldn’t be a part of it.

That was the last time you saw him.

Well, until now.

You kept your distance, watching him talk to player 456. You recognize him from before as the man who’s already played.

You observed intensely, not bothering with your food. You watched how he exchanged words with 456. How his hair moved slightly as he used his hands to talk. You didn’t understand why he was here. The last you heard about him, he was married and his wife was expecting.

What could’ve gone so wrong for him to be here?

The girl next to you shuffled in her seat, setting her empty dosirak-tong on the ground. You knew she was pregnant just from how she walked uncomfortably with her hands supporting her back.

“Here, take mine. I don’t like dosirak.” It was a lie, dosirak is one of your favorite meals. But she was eating for two, and you didn’t have an appetite.

She looked up at you before gently taking the metal box from your hands, “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and you smiled in return.

Your eyes searched for In-ho again to find him walking towards a fight you hadn't noticed had broken out. His frame was large and towered over the boys as he approached them, “Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime There are elders present, mind your manners. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?” In-ho’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head at the boy, “Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

You knew where this was heading, In-ho always knew how to fight. You smirked as he grabbed the boy, turning him around and twisting his arm behind him.

Forcing him to the ground with a thud as he whined, “Wait! I’m sorry! Please, let me go!”

He let go of his arm and stood up straight, adjusting his tracksuit. As he looked around the room while walking back toward player 456, his eyes suddenly met with yours. And he froze as he scanned your face. He was so caught up in Gi-huns plan that he had failed to realize you had entered the game. The girl he fell in love with. Who he shared his first kiss with, who he has thought about every day for 20 years since you were 17.

Your heart ached as old feelings rushed over you, watching as his eyes softened slightly before player 390 dragged him over.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You were too busy trying to figure out why he was here. Plus, you caught word of the next game being Dalgona. Which worried you because you had always sucked at cutting out the tiny shape, always giving in and eating the cookie whole.

You spent the night staring tiredly at the piggy bank, the soft yellow light casting across your face. What you didn't know is that 50 feet away, In-ho watched you. His mind also trying to understand why you were here. He stared at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, remembering when he would trail kisses on your pretty little face.

When he met your eyes earlier, he froze. Not because he didn't expect to see you, which he didn't, he froze because his heart did. He marveled at your beauty, and you took his breath away. Just like the first time he saw you all those years ago.

And now as he lays in his bed, his pillow propped up on the opposite end so he can see you, he can't help but address the elephant in the room. You know his name. You know his identity. You could ruin everything, his plan that he had focused solely on for the past three years.

As the lights turned on and classical music rang out from the speakers, his eyes stayed on you and only you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of six in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."

Sand kicked behind you as you walked into the room. The speakers repeated the instructions as you whispered to the girl next to you, "Is Dalgona played in teams?" She shook her head and her hand caressed her belly. You've grown somewhat protective over the girl, whose name you learned is Kim Jun-hee.

You take her hand as you look to find a team and your eyes try to pick out In-ho from the crowd. You think you spot the back of his head and start to pull Jun-hee towards him when she makes a be-line to a group. Your protests go ignored as she reaches them. Your eyes still search for In-ho as she inquires about joining their group.

"Of course, you can join." The voice snaps you from your search as you meet familiar piercing brown eyes with your own. Your breath hitches in your throat as he doesn't break eye contact.

"Time for team selection is up." The PA system breaks your stare, but In-ho holds his. You look around the room, scanning over the tall blue walls and the rainbows painted on the floor, "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames: Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Kendama. Number five, Spinning Top. Number six, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide on players for each minigame."

Your team divides the games between you. You get stuck with Kendama, a game that is played by tossing a ball into the air and attempting to catch it on a wooden stick point. You're fairly confident in yourself. You and In-ho grew up playing games like these.

You sit with your group as each team competes. You sat at the end next to Jun-Hee, checking on her every once and a while. You flinched every time a gunshot rang out, anxiety bubbling with every elimination.

In-ho could not stop looking at you. It was as if you had a magnetic pull, and he couldn't look away. You were a piece of art, crafted with the hands of God himself. And he was jealous of God's hands, wishing it had been his very own that created such beauty. Every time you looked his way, he looked elsewhere.

"Final two teams, please get ready." You help Jun-hee stand up, 390 stepping in place next to her. Standing on the other side of 388 as you all line up at the start. You lower your gaze as In-ho steps in line next to you. He's always been intimidating, especially with his large frame towering over yours.

390 chuckles, "It's weird to be the only ones who don't get an audience, isn't it?" His attempt to lighten the mood works a little, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I think it will help us focus more!" You rub 388's shoulder in comfort while he repeats the motions of throwing and catching the Gonggi.

The guard finishes locking In-ho's and 456's shackles before you feel an arm snake around yours. In-ho's bicep compresses your own as your face heats up. You glance up daringly meeting In-hos sharp gaze. You should say something. Anything. Ask him why he's here, or where his wife is. But before you can speak, 456 starts the chant and steps forward.

"Hana dul! Hana dul! Hana dul!" You chant as you approach the first game. Jun-hee slams the red ddakji down, successfully flipping the blue one on the first try.

As you chant and walk to the next game, 388 breaks the pace and steps forward quickly. Without hesitation In-ho's hand moves from your arm to your waist, effortlessly steadying you "Hey! Keep the pace!"

388 steps back into pace as we reach the next game, "Back when I used to pitch, I never threw very fast, but the ball always went where I wanted." 390 steps one foot back before aiming and throwing the stone precisely, hitting the target on the first try!

You all cheer before continuing forward, quickly approaching three minutes. As you sit on the ground you feel In-ho steadying you again, allowing you to lean slightly against him to give 388 more room to play his game.

"Okay, just take your time. You got this." I reassure 388 as he grabs the gonggi. With a quick hand, he tosses one in the air before collecting them one at a time. Then two at a time, Then three and one. Then all. He flips them on the back of his hand before catching them effortlessly.

Your cheers were quick as you stood up and rushed towards the fourth game. The guard hands you the Kendama and you can feel In-ho's gaze on you intensely. You held the Kendama out in front of you, tossing the ball up, quickly moving your hand to catch it. You close your eyes as you feel the ball land on the spike.

"Yes! You did it Y/N!" In-ho grabs your shoulders and shakes you, you shake his back as he beams a smile at you. And for a second, you forget about the timer and you're both 17 again, in love.

He wraps his arm around your waist again as you move to his game. He takes the spinning top in his hand and begins to wrap the rope around it, confidence radiating from him. We have this in the bag! -oh.

The rope fell off.

You feel his body tighten as stress began to build. He wraps the rope around once more before tossing it, praying that the top spins. It falls to its side and In-ho curses under his breath. You remember him using his left hand when growing up to play this game. You wondered why he was using his right, but you didn't ask him. You could tell he was getting annoyed at himself.

"It's okay! Just try again!" You let go of In-ho's arm to give him more room. He flings the spinning top with too much power and it flings backwards.

In-ho freezes, too embarrassed to move. The man next to him, 456, grabs his shoulder firmly, "It's okay, we'll get it. All right, backwards. Ready, set."

In-ho holds my waist tightly as we walk backwards in step, "It'd be boring to win everything fast." The group nods in agreement at 390's words, " 'Cause if you're ever gonna grow, you need to fail first, right?"

In-ho picks up the spinning top and we trek back to the line. He wraps the rope around successfully, "Okay now take it slow, wait- no don't rush it!"

In-ho interrupted 388's instructions by quickly, and messily, throwing the top. It falls to the side and you feel In-ho throw his head back and laugh. You quickly remove your hand from his waist, knowing what's about to happen.

"You piece of fucking shit! You ruin everything! You're worthless!" In-ho drops the piece of rope in his hand as he hits his head against his hands. "You're so pathetic!"

The group stands shocked as he hits himself angrily, stomping in the dried blood below him. You bend down and pick up the rope, glancing at the clock.

50 seconds.

"Hey!" You slam the rope against his chest and pull his face to look at you, "No one's blaming any of this on you! Now, take a deep breath, okay?"

In-ho nodded slowly, the feeling of your touch burning on his face as he placed his right hand over his chest, something he would do when you were younger. As the group shuffles to pick up the top, you place one of your hands over his and slow his breathing, "You can do this In-ho. Use your left hand like you did when we were kids. And if I die because of this I will kill you myself."

In-ho gave a small smile at your sarcasm as he wraps the rope around the axel, then the top. He places it in his left hand and looks at you quickly before throwing the top.

It spins.

You erupt in cheers as In-ho succeeds! He gives a quick hug to you, that you wished had lasted longer, and your group moves to 456's turn. In-ho's gaze darkened as he focused on 456, and you failed to notice it, still flustered from the quick hug.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" You all counted as 456 bounced the jegi on his foot, watching him and the clock as it counts down. For a split moment it seemed that he wouldn't be able to get the last hit in, but suddenly In-ho swoops in and reaches with his foot. "Five!"

You all cheer as you practically run to the end, crossing right as the timer hit zero. The heavy shackles get removed and you are immediately engulfed in a bear hug from In-ho. His arms wrap around the small of your back as he pulls you closer to his frame, if possible. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you stay frozen. Not from the near- death- experience you just had, but because you realized you had forgotten what his hugs had felt like. You threw your arms around him in return, deepening the hug you have longed for every day for 20 years.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You sat closely next to In-ho as the group chatted and complemented each others moves from the game. You were looking forward to catching up with In-ho, but you were too engrossed in 388's retelling of 390's stone toss, "And, sir, you were incredible at Flying Stone!" He proudly stood up and pretended to throw a stone, "You just lined it up and... Boom! First try!"

You giggled as 390 proudly shaked his head, and In-ho turned to look at you. God, that laugh. He had forgotten what it sounded like, and he frowned when you stopped, "I was thinking, what if we go around and say what our real names are? I'll go first, my name is Kang Dae-ho. Dae as in 'huge' and ho as in 'tiger'!"

390 laughed as Dae-ho gave himself tiger fangs with his fingers, "Now that's a cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. It means 'righteous' and 'double.' So, I should be living twice as righteously."

"My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't think I know what it stands for." Jun-hee smiles as she pushes a stray hair from her face.

"Jun means 'talented' and hee means 'star'. You are a talented star Jun-hee!" You ruffle her hair as she beams at you, "My name is Y/N. L/N, Y/N."

You can feel In-ho's stare as he watches your lips move, "My name is Young-il. You know, like 'yeong il.' 'Zero one' in Korean." You whipped your head towards him. Was there a reason he was hiding his name? Did he not trust anyone? He gave you a reassuring look, you'd just ask him later.

"My full name is Seong Gi-Hun." You looked away from In-ho's gaze as you watched 456 introduce himself.

"Seong Gi-hun. Like our un-'Seong' hero?" Everyone laughed but you. You were still pondering about In-ho. There were so many unanswered questions running through your mind. In-ho must have noticed your distant look, because he gave your hand a squeeze. A promise that he'll explain everything.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After another failed vote to go home (you had voted to leave this time), Gi-hun warned about the possibility of an ambush. It plagued your mind with worry as you laid on your mattress. Another night of no sleep adding to the eyebags growing under your pretty E/C eyes.

Gi-hun stood from his watch as In-ho took over, and headed to bed. Now was your chance to fully reconnect with In-ho, "Can I sit here?"

In-ho turned to you, "Cant sleep?" He asked as he scooted over a tad, making room for you. He didn't make a whole lot of room though, which you didn't mind.

Your thighs touched as you sat next to him, "No, never could when my mind is running like this." You dusted off your pants as you placed your legs out in front of you, fingers avoiding the blood that plagued your bottoms.

"You shouldn't be anxious about the game tomorrow." He watched your face intently, trying to read you. You were always so easy to read.

You stifle a small laugh, "Oh i'm not anxious, 'Young-il'. " You tilted your head towards him as you dragged out his "name", smirking as he nodded defeatedly.

"Ohhh, okay." He leaned in close, making your heart flutter, "I just don't want anyone to know my name yet. In a game like this there's a lot of... betrayal."

Your spine shivered as his words tickled your ear, "Oh, I guess I didn't think about that..." You turned to look at him but failed to realize how close he was.

Your lips were now inches apart, barely. You could feel his breath fan across your lips and his eyes remained focused on yours, "It can be our little secret? Hmm?" You found yourself nodding before you could even process what he said.

You didn't move, instead, you tested the waters. You leaned in closer, tilting your head slightly, "Last I heard you were married?"

He shook his head no, not caring to explain as he quickly licked his lips, his eyes now focusing on your own. Your breath caught as your heart beat at an unearthly rate, he was so close. If either of you moved your head even a centimeter, his lips would be on yours.

But you weren't able to find out. The small metal door slammed as Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and Ae-sim walked in, and you pulled back quickly. "I should try and sleep."

In-ho nodded as you walked away, his eyes trailed the curve of your ass and he adjusted his pants slightly before going back to his watch.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily. The game you will be playing today is Mingle." The beady-eyed horses caught your attention first. The black, soulless, painted eyes boring into your own as you followed behind In-ho. "I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated."

You stopped in front of the red platform, In-ho stopped next to you, "The real crucial thing for us to do is to stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other. And we'll all get out of here in once piece." He looked down at you, a need to protect you suddenly clear, "Deal?"

You looked up at him, "Deal." And he took your hand as you both stepped on the platform.

"With that, let the game begin!" The woman over the PA system was replaced with a nursery song, "Round And Round". The platform jolted before starting its spin, and you grasp onto In-ho for support as he steadies you.

"Ten."

The lights were replaced with flashing red as In-ho pulled you close. Gi-hun grabbed a group of 3 people as you searched for an open door, "Room 44!" You pointed to the light green door before dragging In-ho and Dae-ho with you. Hyun- ju grabbed a stray woman while running through the green door, barely making it.

In-ho placed his hands on the sides of your arms firmly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath.

He took one hand and cupped your face, "Just stick with me. You'll be okay." You nod as the door unlocks and he grabs your hand, leading you back to the platform.

You spin for another few agonizing seconds with your hand still firmly grasped in In-ho's. "Five."

Your face fell, there were six of you. Who was going to leave? In-ho quickly pushes you into Jung-bae's grasp, "Watch her, i'll go! Hurry!" In-ho takes one more glance towards you as he runs through the crowd.

Jung-bae drags you with the others as you call for In-ho, "Young- il! Young-il!" The door locks behind you and you break from Jung-bae's hold.

"Im sure hes okay. He's smart Y/N." You press your face to the door, peering out of the small window, searching for his tall frame. You know he's smart, but you were so scared of losing him again you couldn't even register the other players getting shot in front of your door.

It unlocks and you push it open, rushing out and onto the platform. You whip your head around as you scanned for In-ho. When you lock eyes with his brown ones you make a beeline towards him, pushing past other players as you jump into his arms, "What ever happened to, "Stick with me"?"

His hand wrapped protectively behind your neck, cradling you in his arms, "I know, im sorry. But i'm okay." He pulled your head away to look at him, a small smile resting on his face.

The platform began to spin as you and In-ho stood next to Jun-hee, "Attention, players. The final round will now begin." The God forsaken nursery rhyme plays again, and this time, your eyes were glued to In-ho.

"What do you think the number will be?" Jun-hee asked curiously while clinging onto Dae-ho.

"It will be two." In-ho looked towards her.

"Wait, why?"

He squeezes your hand, "We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for."

The platform comes to a halt. "Two." The lights flash again and In-ho pulls you on instinct, running to a yellow door.

In-ho was going to keep you safe, at any cost.

You look back towards the group for a split second when your body meets the ground, you look up in slow motion as the man who pushed you runs to the door. You took a staggered breath before grabbing onto his ankle, slamming him to the ground and buying you enough time to run in behind In-ho and close the door.

Relief washed over you only momentarily as your eyes met with a third person in the room. In-ho steps in front of you, "Out."

"But, we were here first. Why don't you put her out and I stay?" In-ho tilts his head at his last remark before wrapping his biceps around the man's head.

The door behind you shook as the other man tries to push it open, you are quick to press your body weight against it to hold it close, "In-ho, what do we do?" Your voice was frantic as the countdown continued.

In-ho's arms tighten around the mans neck as he pulls and pushes at his grasp, but In-hos eyes never faltered. Not once. They stayed piercing yours, full of determination.

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." The cracking sound of the mans neck made you flinch, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a thud.

I did say in-ho would keep you safe. At any cost.

"One."

The door locked behind you as you pressed your back against it, In-ho's stare stuck on you as he stepped over the man's body and towards you. He pushed your body against the door, his hand finding the flesh of your waist as his other hand pulled your neck into a desperate kiss. You became putty under his touch as he dug his fingers into your skin, he craved your touch as much as you did. And it was taking every muscle in his body not to take you and fuck you right now.

Your hands traveled from his chest and up to his neck, pulling him closer. A small whine escaped your pretty lips as he slid his hand up and under your shirt, the same hands he just used to kill for you.

For you.

You felt the door unlock with a click behind you. And In-ho pulled away reluctantly as your head fell back against the door, "I need you Y/N." He brushed his thumb over your red and swollen lips before taking your hand, and leading you out of the door.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Attention, all players. Lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please disperse, and prepare to return to your beds for the night."

You sat next to Jung-bae who was excitedly talking about the next vote with Dae-ho as you watched In-ho move your mattress next to his. You hadn't dared to tell a soul about what happened in the yellow room, the kiss or the dead guy.

And you weren't going to tell anyone.

You should be concerned, right? Concerned over how easy it was for him to snap a guys neck without breaking eye contact? He was emotionless, cold, really attractive. You had witnessed many fights between him and other men while growing up, especially when it came to fighting over you.

But he never once killed for you. Until now, at least. Were you wrong to think it was really hot?

"Once the lights go out, the ones who wanna stay are gonna come for us." Gi-huns voice broke you from your thoughts, "Killing us would mean they win the next vote. It would also increase the prize money."

In-ho sat down next to you, his hand immediately finding your back, "We have to attack first then, it's our only chance. Those guys assume we're just waiting it out till the next vote. When the lights go down, we should hit them first since they won't expect it." He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, watching is you nod in agreement.

Gi-hun shook his head and leaned in closer to the group, "No, we can't. We'd be playing right into their hands if we did."

"Who is 'they'?" You tilted your head as you asked, failing to notice In-ho's gaze darken.

"The ones who built this whole place. The ones who created the games and who watch us play." The group listens closely, "If we're gonna try and fight anyone, we should be going after them instead."

"Sure, but where are they?"

Gi-hun looks up, "They're up there. At the top of the staircases. They keep everything here running from up in their central control room." He looks back at the group, "There's a man in a black mask who's the head of the operation. If we can get to him, we finally can end this."

In-ho sighs in disagreement, "It's too risky. Even if we manage to get a few guns they'll outnumber us when we try to get out." You feel his hand slide from your back and wrap around your waist.

"What are you suggesting? That we fight the other group through the whole entire night, and hope that we all make it? Is that it, Young-il? Do you really think that's a good plan?" Gi-huns voice is a little raised and you feel In-ho's grip on you tighten.

"Do we... stand a chance?"

"If we can manage an ambush, yes. Those bastards up there, they'll never expect our side to attack. They'll be focused on other things. This is it." You nodded with Dae-ho, ready to fight, "This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again."

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. We can't afford to get caught by the other side. And we know they'll be out for blood." Gi-hun whispers as he slides under his bed.

You and In-ho follow suit, laying on your stomachs as you peer out from under your bed. You feel the contrast between your shaky breaths and his own steady breathing, and you can't comprehend how he could be so calm.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

"I have a plan." In-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound of a woman yelling.

You look at him, "But, what about Gi-hun's plan?"

You didn't miss the small smirk that played on his lips, "Just stay by my side." Without a word In-ho swiftly moves from out of his bed, pulling you with him.

"Wait! What are you-" His hand came to your mouth as you both hugged the wall while discreetly moving towards the small metal door.

In-ho removed his hand to place a short knock. The small window opened, a guard peering through the flap. Without a single question, the door opened, and In-ho was quick to push you through.

You watched as the guard swiftly opened the bathroom door allowing you and In-ho to enter. You turned to the door as it shut behind you before looking at In-ho, "How did that guard just let you through? I don't understand, we have to go back In-ho."

"Or we can stay. We're safe here- you're safe here." He stood on the opposite wall in front of you, watching as you rested your hand on the doorknob.

He knew you were thinking about going back. But he also knew you weren't going to. He had you wrapped around his finger, just like all those years ago. And you knew it too.

You dropped your hand from the doorknob, biting your lip as you feel him slowly stalk towards you. Need courses through your veins as his hand comes from behind and wraps around your neck, his other hand pulls your waist against him. His lips find your neck and you've melted instantly.

His bulge presses harshly against your ass as he sucks and bites your neck with unhuman desire. This wasn't like when you were younger, when you were flustered and shy. No. You were hungry with want and your eyes were filled with lust.

He whips you around, lips on your own now as he moves you backwards to the counter. Your knees go weak and he lifts you with ease, as if you weighed nothing, and places you on the counter. Your fingers dug into his back, desperate for more. Hungry for him.

In-ho bites your lip roughly, and you give him what he wants, opening your lips wider and letting his tongue fuck your mouth. You were intoxicated, In-ho was the man you thought of each night as you fucked yourself, screaming his name into oblivion. And now here he was, hiking your shirt over your head.

"Y/N." Your name slipped from In-ho's mouth swiftly as he lifts your shirt over your head before his lips find your exposed skin. A small whine escapes your lips as his hot mouth gives your cold skin goosebumps.

It was like that small little noise ignited something animalistic within him, a grunt fell off his tongue as he bit your skin. He loved the way you squirmed as he dipped his tongue into your collarbone, his eyes looking up at you.

Sweat slicked your forehead as your head throws back, your bra falling from your tits, landing on the floor. How did he take it off? His hand didnt even-

oh.

Oh.

You looked at the bra, the back was still clasped.But the straps, the straps were ripped. He had ripped your bra off of you with hunger. But, you couldn't focus on the bra anymore as a moan escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as In-ho rolls your nipple under his tongue.

He trailed sloppy kisses up to your mouth before stepping back, observing you. He pulls his shirt of with ease, "Take off your pants." It was demanding, and you obeyed. Your fingers trembled as you slipped off your bottoms and panties.

In-ho presses his tongue against his cheek, cocking his head as he takes you in piece by piece. You were sprawled out on the counter, your back resting against the mirror and your chest heaved, "What. What are you looking at In-ho."

"I'm thinking about all the bruises your pretty body is going to have after I fuck you."

He sinks to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he delves his tongue into your folds. You gasp, your legs involuntarily locking around his head. His tongue laps as he looks up at you. His nose perfectly brushes your clit, and he knows it as you rock your hips, "Oh, f-fuck. In-ho please."

He smirks against you as you sputter his name. He feels himself growing harder each time you whimper under his mouth. He drinks you up, your taste slicking on his face as you his tongue finds your clit.

One of your hands remove from the edge of the counter and find its way to his hair, "In-ho please," You pull his hair up to make him look at you, "If you stop now, I-I will kill you."

A small chuckle vibrates through your core as his lips latch your clit, rolling it under his tongue. Your legs pull him closer, if possible, and you feel your climax building. You arch your hips, rolling against his mouth as the need to cum grows louder. In-ho roughly laps on your swollen clit, desperate for your release.

And suddenly the earth stops spinning as you dissolve into pleasure, letting yourself unravel under him. Your body jerks as shockwaves move throughout your body, and you let his name roll of your tongue.

"Scoot down." You do as you're told and wiggle your ass until its slightly off the counter. In-ho watches as you still attempt to steady your breathing, smirking as he dips the waist of his pants down.

Your eyes widen as he places one of his hands on the side of your body, letting him tower over you. Your eyes trailed to his other hand that was busy lining his dick up with your core, but his eyes are on you. Waiting to watch your reaction as you take his cock.

He sinks into you, your breath catching and your eyes closing as he doesn't ease you into it, stretching you out. A grunt escapes his mouth at your reaction, you were so beautiful like this.

In-ho leans back and takes a hold of both of your ankles, holding them above you as he sets the pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the counter with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.

In-ho quickens the pace with each thrust, pounding into you like a toy. Animalistic grunts escape his mouth, "Y/N, you're so good for me. I've missed this so -fuck- so much."

You whine at his words, desperate attempts to buck your hips failed. He had you pinned down under you, controlling everything. He can feel the way you grip him, lustful tension building in the air, "Atta girl."

Oh fuck, he feels so good. He fits perfectly in you, just like all those years ago. The passion was still there, and god, he made you know it. You're drunk with desire, clenching around him as the pace picks up. His thrusts are sharp, deep, and you can tell he's close.

Your hands find his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes met yours as his cock hit every. right. spot. His eyes softened, a contrast to his pornoraphic thrusts. In the middle of everything, all the death around you, you rekindled a love you never thought you would experience again.

Your eyes stay locked as the grip on your ankles tightened, In-ho's head dropping slightly as he came, time slowing as waves of electricity engulfed him. Warmth flooded over your body as he pulsed inside of you, gently laying your legs back down before leaning forward.

He pulled you close to him, his hands cupping your face and his thumb gently lifting your chin, "I love you Y/N." A smile displayed on his lips as he kissed you softly.

You bit back a sob, "In-ho... I never stopped loving you. You've been my person, even when you weren't mine."

He kissed you again, this time with promise. A promise of making it out of the games, a promise of love, a promise of hope.

In-ho never thought much of a future. He always saw himself living for the games. He expected to die as the front man, he didn't have anything to lose. But now he does. He has a future now, and it's you. He is not living for the games anymore. He is living for you.

Would you still love him when you find out the truth?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: Hey pookies!! Tysm for all the love recently it's definitely motivated for me to come out of retirement. Pls lmk who I should write for next! I'm in a squid game mood so maybe Gi-hun?

@tsarinaaaz @flowersbloom8787 @vixtyhu @dottoremybbg @fnl9zer @cdej6 @galadoesart @watasinekoru @icantcryicantstopcrying @seasaltrasp @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @gurjxxpp11

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami who pushes all his weight on you when he fucks. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his face, and his warm skin slapping against yours creating immense pleasure between the two of you. Kissing you sloppily because he doesn’t care, all he needs right now is to feel the love of his life. Bare bodies pressed together, as his cock works diligently into you. Enthralled by your beauty and the faces of pleasure you make, he continues staring at you, madly in love. The peak of lust arriving soon, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses into the sensitive area. He finishes inside making sure not to waste a single drop as he has one goal: to see you round with his child. 

Just a thought....

[specsthesecond]

Imagine how hard it must be getting out of bed in the morning with your massive orc husband passed tf out on top of you.

Snoring in your ear, arms slung over you to pull your back into his chest, his leg over yours too. You're not going anywhere lmao.

Feeling all his dead weight on you makes you realise how gentle he is with you when he's awake.

You have to shuffle around quite a bit before stirring him, even then he only digs his tusks into the crook of your neck and mumbles some sleepy gibberish.

Asking him to let you get up will get you nothing but a grumble as he brings the sheets up over your shoulders and traps you in a cozy prison.

The only possibilities for escape are:

1. Telling him you have to pee, in which he'll begrudgingly let you go. He follows you to the bathroom door, blanket around his shoulders, waiting for you to do your business. He'll then snatch you up the second you open the door and carry you back to bed so you can make up for lost cuddle time.

2. Waking him up with a morning fuck. Just grind back on him and he'll hum lowly, kissing up your neck, his cock waking up as he grinds back on you. Emptying his balls in your hole seems to be the best way to get him up and going for the day. Afterwards, you'll be fucked out in bed while he walks around the bedroom, all awake and cheery while getting dressed, making the bed, asking you what you want for breakfast and what the plans are for the day.

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[bunny-jpeg]

simon riley knew the years were catching up to him. he could feel the dull throb in his knee. his back started to hurt when he sat in the wrong position for too long. he even would a grey hair the other day. he honestly wondered if his boys were still working, or were the years of drinking, smoking and combat the thing that killed them all. he wanted to put that to the test. and you were his little test subject. it was hard for you to deny your commander, especially when he shoved you into the cramped areas that only became more cramped with his large body in them, and his cock drilled into your poor achy cunt. he'd often comment about how your sweet cunt drooled for him, coated his cock in slickness and practically begged to be filled, to be bred.

he'd often shove his fingers into your mouth as he fucked you from behind. his gruff voice in your ears, telling you to shut up mixed with promises of a stuffed cunt. up against shelves, over desks, in the back of military vehicles. on your knees, on your back. anyway he could have you, he was going to take the chance. if you have one more period, he's going to tie you down the bed and use you until that poor pussy of yours is drowned in his cum. you don't get it, you're too young and stupid to be worried about your biological clock. you think your breeding days are forever, but simon's wants to make sure every second counts as he has you bent in half with a milky ring around the base of his cock.

that soft little stomach of yours is gonna get nice and filled with his brats. little rileys running around, their grabby hands all over mama. you'd be off base and some place where the little ones can run around. and while they're down for their nap, simon's gonna make sure his woman gets some loving. as he spit in your mouth before he bruised your hips as he had you shoved over the edge of his bed. his hand in your hair as he made you whimper. maybe he was a sick man, but he had to make sure you got pregnant before he threw out his hip or knee. he could twist you into positions that allowed him to be more comfortable, you were young and flexible. you could handle being almost upside down while simon lapped at your cum soaked pussy, pulling a fifth orgasm out of you that night alone. his cum thoroughly stained your bed sheets and the lips of your pussy. your hole tender and coated in the creamy film of simon's cum. a promise of things to come.

it only took less than a year before you were feeling the aches of pregnancy replace the aches of sex. now he kept a broad hand over your swollen middle. you were gonna be a mama soon. and simon had the privilege of being the father. even with you on your back and your ankles over his shoulders, his cock drilling into you, you looked more beautiful than ever. a good woman always looked better on her back.

a/n: "what's a bunny's favourite music genre? hip-hop!"

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[onceinablueberrymoon]

intentionally by chance | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: a month after seeing the salesman on his way to the airport, gi-hun returns to that subway station every day, hoping to find the salesman and confront him. this is where you come in. setting: takes place after the events of season 1, but before gi-hun hires the loan shark group to search for the salesman warnings: deception; pregnant!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 1.3k notes: salesman fluff! ♡ this guy’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks now, so i had to write about him. my first fic in years! i like to think that S1 salesman is more chill than in S2. please enjoy! part 2 here! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Excuse me… Can you please help me?”

The red-haired man, who was perusing the endless options of cup ramyeon, turned in your direction, but remained planted a few feet away from you. 

“Me?” He pointed at himself.

You nodded, adjusting the items you were holding in your arms. “Can you grab me that cup of ramyeon from the shelf? I’d get it, but my hands are full…” 

The man walked over and retrieved your cup of ramyeon. As he handed it to you, he noticed your pronounced bump under your sweater and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Miss, you’re in no condition to be carrying so much. Please, let me help you bring it to the checkout.”

With your approval, he unloaded the rest of your snacks into his arms. The two of you walked to the register, where you insisted on paying for his own cup of ramyeon. You suggested eating the ramyeon at one of the tables outside the subway station’s convenience store, but he insisted on sitting on a bench on the subway platform. 

“Is there a particular reason you wanted to eat here? It’s not the most ideal dining spot…” You slurped your noodles happily. The man ate slowly, popping his head up every so often and eyeing his surroundings carefully. 

“I’m… looking for something. Nothing you should worry yourself with,” he continued to eat his food while you gave him a skeptical look.

“Perhaps I could help? Well, as long as I don’t have to move very much,” you chuckled, patting your stomach. He gave you a soft smile before changing the topic. 

“Shouldn’t your husband be buying you food instead of you coming to get it yourself?” He gestured to your bag of snacks, and you giggled.

“My husband buys me all the food I want, but sometimes I just want to get out of the house! It’s no fun being cooped up all day,” you sighed. The man nodded in understanding. 

“It’s also nice to talk to other people, like you,” you smiled at him. He returned your smile, but then his eyebrows shot up when a sharp smack echoed throughout the platform. 

The man jumped up, his cup ramyeon forgotten on the bench. You turned to see where the noise had come from, only to find a group of students huddled around another student who had dropped their textbooks on the ground. From what you could hear, it seemed like they were holding them for a friend but couldn’t handle the weight.

The red-haired man froze for a few seconds, then sat back down, heaving a big sigh. 

“Are you alright, sir? There’s nothing to worry about – it was just some books that fell.” You tried to comfort the man in some way, but he brushed the incident off. 

“I’m fine. It just… reminded me of something,” he tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t convince you. “Don’t worry about me. Please eat,” he gestured to your unfinished ramyeon, “you need strength for your baby.”

The rest of your time together was pleasant, but you were still not convinced that the man’s reaction was nothing. You both finished your noodles, disposing the packaging and your utensils before parting ways. 

Once you returned home, you put the remaining snacks away and settled on the sofa. There were still a few hours before your husband was due home. You got yourself comfortable, curled up under a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.

“Rough day?”

You cracked open your eyes. All you could see was a blurry grey shape, but you already knew who it was. 

Blinking your eyes a few times, your husband’s handsome face came into focus, with his usually crisp grey suit looking a bit creased. His usual smirk graced his face as he looked down at you on the sofa.

“I should be asking you that. What happened to your suit?” You sat up and he sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“One prospective player became violent when he lost at ddakji for the 20th time in a row. Of course, I was able to subdue him, but it took more effort than usual,” your husband tried to press down a crease on his sleeve, but to no avail. He rested a hand on your rounded belly, gently rubbing circles with his fingers.

“How was today? I trust you succeeded in your mission?” 

You scoffed, “He was exactly where you said he’d be. I was able to have a conversation with him. We even ate ramyeon together for lunch!” 

Your husband turned to face you, an eyebrow raised. “You ate ramyeon together?” He gave a small pout, “I thought I was the only one you ate ramyeon with.”

Immediately, your face flustered as you explained yourself, “Hey, you know that I would never cheat!” Then, you scoffed, “We ate cup ramyeon, alright? Not whatever fantasy you’re imagining in that head of yours.” He laughed, pecking you on the cheek.

“Oh, but I have some exciting news,” you said with a sparkle in your eyes. “He’s still looking for you. And he’s basically gone mad trying to find you.” This caught your husband’s attention.

“While we were eating, there was a loud noise. Turned out that a kid dropped their books. But Gi-hun didn’t know that. He shot up so fast I swear I thought he was possessed!” 

Your husband seemed to take in your findings carefully, continuing his circles on your bump as if they helped him focus. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he specifically wanted us to sit on the subway platform, so I think it’s safe to say he’s searching for you.” Your husband had previously informed you that he had spotted a player he had already recruited at the Incheon Airport subway station, albeit with flaming red hair. After talking with the Frontman, he confirmed that Seong Gi-hun was indeed the winner of the 33rd edition of the Games. 

Once you shared the rest of your intel with your husband, you let out a big sigh. 

“Should I meet with Gi-hun again? It’d be useful to know his location and I could maybe gather more info,” you looked at your husband who had since sat up, but he didn’t take his hand off your bump. 

He pondered your question for a moment. “While I would benefit from knowing his whereabouts, I’m more afraid of something happening to you,” his voice sounded strained. “I wouldn’t be there to protect you and our child.” 

You leaned onto his shoulder, resting a hand on top of his on your belly. “We’ll be fine. If anything, Gi-hun was also concerned for me because of the baby,” you winked. “Maybe they’re the key to earning his trust.” 

Your husband’s lips tightened into a straight line. While he wasn’t happy that you would spend time with someone who clearly despised him, you were right — your pregnancy would lower Gi-hun’s defenses. You knew how much your husband’s schedule was impacted by Gi-hun’s constant presence on the AREX subway line. It would greatly help your husband if you could keep Gi-hun at one station while he recruited prospective players for the Games. 

Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stood up, attempting once again to smooth out the crease on his sleeve. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to the Frontman to see if we can get you any additional protection. I still don’t like the idea of you being around Gi-hun alone. If he learns of our relationship, I imagine he will use you as ransom,” he clicks his tongue, “We can’t have that now, can we?” 

You shook your head and stood up next to your husband. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For now, continue researching prospective players. I’m almost done with your last batch,” he flashed his signature smirk, which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

“On it. Rumour has it that Tapgol Park has an abundance of people down on their luck…”

[mossangelll]

So hear me out….pregnant reader with Sevika’s kid. Sevika doting on reader. Bring home a weird craving reader has been having and talking to the baby telling them how excited she is to finally meet them.

I need fluff, I need pregnancy, I need it to be hers naturally.

Thank yooooooooou!

this is so cute i loved writing it! i just know sevika would be a great parent ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

sevika x pregnant reader headcanons

cw: pregnancy, slight innuendos, mentions of violence, veryyyy slight angst at the start

sevika never saw herself being a parent; not because she doesn’t like kids, it’s the complete opposite - she adores them

she felt it was selfish to want to bring a child into a fucked up world like zaun, full of hardship and uncertain futures

but then one night you tearfully turn to sevika in bed and her mind immediately goes into overdrive, are you hurt? is someone threatening you?

“sevika…i’m pregnant.”

you’re both sent into a still silence, unable to see each other but somehow feeling each other’s shock that much more

you’re worried that she’s upset or even mad at you, you know how she feels about having kids, until she’s gripping onto you with all her might, body shuddering from the force of her tears

sevika spoons you to sleep but she can’t fall asleep since her mind is racing about what this means for the future

she is overjoyed to say the least, albeit worried

from that moment on she dotes on you even more than she ever did, saying she needs to “look after my two favourite people.”

she rarely enjoyed pda but now you’re pregnant with her child, she can’t keep her hands off you - she needs to let everyone know that she’s completely smitten with you and the baby

sevika is constantly rubbing her hands on your baby bump wherever you go - just the sight of you and the baby calms her down

however she’ll only talk to the baby when you’re at home all safe and sound because this is when she admits her innermost fears

you stroke her soft hair as she whispers to the bump about how she’s scared she won’t be able to protect you both; after all, sevika works for the biggest crime lord in zaun and a child only provides more ammunition for enemies to utilise

sevika is also concerned about not being a good enough parent to the child but when you look at her building a crib from scratch, concentration furrowing her dark brows, with buckets of paint surrounding her from all the swatches you requested, you know that her worries couldn’t be further from the truth

every morning and every night, without fail, she kisses your forehead and baby bump as she rambles to you both about how excited she is for the completion of your little family

she dotes on you so much!

if you have a weird craving like pickle juice with sparkling water she’s forcing chuck to drop all his orders and make yours stat

if you’re craving some obscure dish that really shouldn’t exist sevika isn’t even going to question it

she’s in the kitchen whipping it up for you as you’re sat on the counter, humming as she prepares your meal

she does that thing where she puts the plate just in your reach but yanks it back again, laughing at how petulant you get

“what, you’re not gonna kiss the chef first?”

she gives it to you eventually, she could never make you wait for too long, and watches on with a goofy little smile and your lipstick marks all over her face as you contentedly eat the downright atrocious meal she made with love

sevika is always with you; call her overprotective or clingy she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to risk anybody hurting you or the baby

you basically get scary dog privileges everywhere you go

if your pregnancy hormones say the annoying store clerk that spoke to you in a condescending tone needs to die then sevika is on it right away

ok not really, she talks you down from your moments of bloodlust but she will deal with anyone that is rude to you

“you think i’m gonna let you get away with being an asshole to my dove, huh?”

lowkey shocked (and equal parts turned on) at how cranky your raging hormones make you 😭

sevika is incredibly attracted to you and your changing body even though you get insecure that she won’t like you anymore because of it

she takes her precious time every day just kissing the new stretch marks that appear and massaging your swollen ankles

you spend your date nights talking about baby names and you two even draw what you think the baby will look like

her drawing mainly consists of your features

your drawing mainly consists of her features

you two are so down bad for each other it’s sickening

silco has to force sevika to take more time off; she’s loyal and deserves to have more downtime with you as you prepare for your baby

he understands what it’s like to have a kid, how stressful it can be so he wants his dearest friend to enjoy the moment as much as possible

speaking of silco, he helps sevika host a surprise baby shower at the last drop and an insane amount of people turn up

you cry when you realise how loved and respected you are in the community

everyone is having the time of their lives playing games like blind diaper changing, who knows mum/dad the best, guess the baby, etc.

no gender reveal though she’s traditional in that regard and wants to wait until the baby’s born to find out

jinx is also very excited about the new arrival in the family

yes, she considers you and sevika to be part of her family and it’s very cute

she gets to be an auntie!

jinx spends all her free time making all sorts of toys out of softer materials because she’s considerate (also sevika warned her not to use scrap metal, or implement sharp edges, or even add teeny tiny smoke bombs - jinx scrapped all of her designs and had to start from scratch), for your baby with her signature graffiti of course

her and sevika probably work together to make some of the furniture for the baby’s room

sevika is very proud when people ask to feel bump

“yeah, this is our kid.” smug grin plastered onto her face and a strong arm wrapped around your midsection

you can’t help but roll your eyes when she does this because at this point who doesn’t know it’s your kid - she spends all day talking about it 😭

all in all sevika is honestly the best mother and wife you could ask for <3

masterlist

[urmum-lovesme]

The Gas Station

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pregnant!Reader

summary: Y/n is in her final trimester of her pregnancy and Rafe is eager to make sure the birth of his first baby goes smoothly, but thanks to Y/n's stubbornness they find themselves stuck in a pretty sticky situation with the last two people they expected.

a/n: So I watched "We Live In Time" yesterday and I loved the movie so much that I wanted to rewrite the childbirth scene from it cause it was my favourite! Rafe is so 'grumpy to everyone else but soft for her' core in this. Ps: I’ve never given birth so this might not be too accurate, don’t kill me

warnings: Spoilers for the 'we live in time' childbirth scene, mentions of contractions, labour, childbirth (pretty visual ig?), mentions of a zoot but no smoking, mentions of alcohol but no drinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The living room of the Chateau was warm and filled with the low hum of conversation. Sarah was sprawled on the floor, while Kiara leaned back against the couch, discussing the possibilities of the new Cameron baby being a boy or girl. Pope sat at the kitchen table, half-focused on whatever book he had cracked open, pen scribbling against the paper trying to figure out the probability the mathematical way, and Cleo lounged near the window, lazily watching the wind shift the trees outside as they all spoke to one another

Y/n was sitting on the couch opposite Sarah and Kiara, half-listening, half-focused on the cookie in her hand as her other one rubbed over her large, rounded belly. Sarah grinned as she caught Y/n eyeing the cookie. 

“What, are my cookies that good?”

Y/n opened her mouth to answer but suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand instinctively flew to her lower stomach, the cookie forgotten on the side of the couch.

Rafe, who had been leaning against the doorway, taking the time to admire the girl in her last couple of days of pregnancy, immediately straightened. His relaxed expression vanished. She had been persistent that she wanted to come and visit Sarah and the Pogue’s at the chateau, and as much as he protested, knowing the due date of their baby was any day now, she managed to sway him with those pleading eyes of hers and small pout, which he couldn’t seem to say no to.

“What’s wrong?” 

His voice softened, but there was a thread of tension running through it as he crossed the room in two quick steps. Y/n didn’t answer right away. She squeezed her eyes shut, shifting to the edge of the sofa and placing both hands on her belly. She took in a slow, shaky breath.

“I… think I’m having contractions.”

The room fell into a sudden, heavy silence as they all looked at eachother. 

Sarah blinked. “Wait, what? Like, actual contractions?”

Cleo sat up straighter, eyeing her. “No way sweet thing, maybe you just ate too many of them damn cookies huh?”

“Okay, that’s it. We’re leaving. Right now.” 

Rafe’s face paled and he was already patting his pockets for the car keys, panic creeping into his voice as he grabbed the girl’s shoes from next to the door. Pope closed his book slowly, brows furrowed. 

“Hold on, how far apart are they? That matters, right?”

Kiara leaned forward, calm but attentive. “Yeah, how bad was that one? Like, on a scale of one to ‘get in the car’?”

Y/n exhaled slowly, leaning her head back. “It wasn’t that bad. Just… caught me off guard. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You just said you’re having contractions!”

Sarah gawked her eyes wide with disbelief. She had been buzzing with excitement ever since she found out she was going to be an aunt. The girl had been planning baby showers and picking out names for months, practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation that her brother was going to be a father, and that he’d changed so much since the couple had found out about their little angel. And now, that Y/n was in labour, and she couldn’t help but feel a mixture of concern and sheer excitement.

“She said ‘think,’” Cleo corrected, smirking. “Key word, Sarah. Could just be gas, ya know?”

Y/n let out a weak laugh. “Thanks for that, Cleo.”

Rafe didn’t laugh. He crouched in front of her, eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress, “Y/n, we should go. The hospital’s all the way in Figure 8, and we’re in the Cut, that’s not a quick drive.”

Y/n shook her head, breathing steadily, she’d noticed how he’d been on edge for the past few weeks, his nerves fraying with every little thing. Rafe cared about her more than he ever thought possible- she was everything to him. The thought of losing her or their baby terrified him to his core, he couldn’t bear the thought of not being there for her, of not protecting the two most important people in his life.

 “Rafey, that was the first contraction, my waters not even broken yet. We have time.”

“No, we don’t,” he snapped, then caught himself and softened his tone, letting out a sigh, “I just… I don’t want to risk it, okay?”

Kiara, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression surprised to see the once frat boy asshole so attentive, leaned over to Sarah. 

“Is he always this dramatic?”

“Oh yeah, it's become a talent.”

Pope stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Look, if they’re still spaced out, you probably have hours. First babies take their time. But we should keep track.” As he looked around the kitchen drawers for something, cutlery clanged in them as he opened and shut the wooden furniture, finally fishing out an old plastic stopwatch.

Rafe shot him a glare, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly betting on that.”

Y/n reached for Rafe’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Lets just sit here for a bit more please. If they get worse, we’ll go.”

Rafe stared at her for a long moment, then let out a frustrated breath. “Fine. But if anything changes, we’re out of here. No arguments.”

“No arguments.”

She responded as she smiled in agreement, leaning forward slightly to give the boy a quick peck on the lips. Reluctantly, Rafe sat beside her, shuffling so she rested against his side, his hand protectively resting on her belly, a place it had gotten used to resting on in the past few months. Sarah cleared her throat. 

“So… does this mean more cookies, or…?”

Y/n laughed out nodding her head with wide eyes and Cleo snorted at the girl's reaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room had grown quieter, but the tension clung to the air as Rafe stood by the window, pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. His free hand raked over his short hair as he listened to the calm, too-casual voice on the other end of the line.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t come in yet?” Rafe snapped, disbelief lacing his voice.

“She’s in labour!”

The nurse on the other end responded evenly, used to anxious fathers. “Sir, unless her contractions are between three to five minutes apart, there’s no point in coming now. First-time labours can take hours, sometimes longer. You’ll be more comfortable at home.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Do you know who I am?” his tone dropped, sharp and cold, “My family practically owns half this island, and you’re telling me to just sit around and wait?”

From the couch, Sarah groaned audibly and rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God.” 

She pushed off the armrest and stormed over, snatching the phone from Rafe’s hand before he could say another word and pressed it to her ear,

“Hi, sorry about him,” Sarah said sweetly into the phone, giving Rafe a sharp glare. “We’ll keep an eye on things and call if anything changes. Thanks for your help.”

She hung up and tossed the phone onto the table.

“Are you serious right now?” she snapped. “Pulling the Cameron card on a nurse? What was that supposed to do- magically speed up labor?”

Rafe’s eyes flashed angrily as he looked down to his younger sister, his finger jabbing into his chest as he spoke, “I’m trying to make sure she’s safe, Sarah! We’re stuck in this shithole cause you've,” his raised his finger pointing it to his temple, “put some voodoo spell on her so she doesn't want to leave and no one seems to care!”

Cleo looked over from where she was sitting, flipping her pocket knife, her eyebrows raised, clearly impressed by his sudden bizarre speculation. Sarah crossed her arms. 

“Yelling at the hospital won’t fix that. You need to calm down before you stress her out even more.”

Rafe opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of the back door creaking open cut him off. Kiara stepped in, shaking off the light drizzle from outside, a bright blue yoga ball awkwardly tucked under her arm.

“Found it!” she grinned, holding it out like a trophy.

Y/n’s face lit up despite the discomfort. “Oh, thank God.”

Kiara rolled it over to her, and Y/n carefully shifted forward, accepting it gratefully.

“I heard these help,” Kiara said with a small smile.

Y/n slowly eased herself onto the ball, her hands holding onto Kiara’s outstretched ones in support before she sat down on the plastic sphere starting to gently bounce. A relieved sigh slipped from her lips.

“Oh wow… yeah, this is way better.”

Sarah smirked. “Look, see? This is called helping, Rafe.”

Cleo, still lounging by the window, spoke up. “Yeah man, maybe if you threaten the ball next it’ll really speed things up.”

Pope cracked a small smile from his spot at the table at the girl’s words. Rafe, still tense, exhaled sharply and dropped into a chair by the kitchen table, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes drifted to Y/n, watching her breathe easier with each bounce. As he watched her, he realised he seemed to be more stressed than she was, but was he in the wrong for that? He only wanted to make sure the mother of his child could have the most comfort possible. Without a word, he pushed up from his chair and slowly crossed the room. He crouched down in front of her, eyes locked on her face, his hands resting lightly on her knees.

“Baby… are you sure you want to stay here?” 

His voice was softer now, the edge gone, replaced by something fragile. Y/n blinked down at him, her breathing steady. She lifted one hand from her belly and gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing along his skin which was still smooth from when he shaved before they left their home.

“Rafey, please relax, yeah?” she murmured, her other hand drifting to rest protectively over her bump. “We’re okay.”

The weight in his chest loosened just a little at the sound of her voice, but it didn’t disappear.

Rafe leaned in just a bit closer. “Okay, but when you start feeling off you tell me, yeah?”

Y/n gave him a playful eye roll, but her smile was soft. She leaned forward, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips once more, she knew he was on edge, but she just wanted peace for the last few hours it was going to be just the two of them.

“Yes, I promise.”

Rafe’s shoulders finally dropped as he let out a quiet breath, grounding himself in her touch. Behind them, Kiara exchanged a look with Sarah and smirked. 

“Well, that’s gross.”

Sarah laughed under her breath at her best friend's comments, shaking her head, but there was a warmth in her smile as she watched them. As much as she teased, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness for her brother. It was clear that Y/n had done something to him- something that had changed him for the better, something that made him softer, more present. Sarah could see it in the way he looked at her, how much he cared. It warmed her heart to know her brother had found someone who truly made him happy.

Rafe didn’t hear the girls giggling as his focus was completely on Y/n, “Alright,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along her knee before standing. 

“Just… don’t scare me like that again.”

Y/n smiled, leaning back and resuming her gentle bounce on the yoga ball hands circling her bump again.

“No promises.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours had passed the sky outside the windows now dark, the streetlamps having switched on which caused an orange glow around the island, but time seemed to stretch as the intensity of Y/n’s contractions grew. The living room was dim, the rain outside tapping softly on the windows, the air thick with anticipation.

Y/n was on her knees, her body leaning against the couch for support. Her face clearly reflected her discomfort, lips pressed together in effort as she rocked back and forth slowly, trying to breathe through the latest wave of pain. Rafe kneeled beside her, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other resting on her arm. His voice was low, soothing, a steady presence as he spoke to her.

“Is it passing?”

Y/n groaned softly, her breath hitching before she let out a quiet whine, barely audible. 

“Yeah… it’s passing.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he kept his hand on her back, massaging in slow circles, his eyes never leaving her face. He looked up to Pope, who was standing near the window, timing her contractions with the stopwatch hanging loosely around his neck.

Pope glanced at the timer, then back at Rafe. “Okay, that’s about ten minutes apart now, but getting closer.”

Rafe’s gaze shifted back to Y/n, his concern deepening. He rubbed her back a little harder, as if that would somehow ease her discomfort, “Sweet girl,” he murmured gently, leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear. 

“I think we should get going now, hmm? The hospital’s still a bit of a drive.”

Y/n, in a small haze of pain, didn’t answer immediately. She just rested her head against her arms on the couch, humming out in agreement. Her nod was slow, but definite.

“Mmhm… yeah, let’s go,” she whispered, her voice small and weary.

Rafe exhaled, relief flooding through him but mixing with the urgency that had been building in his chest. He helped her slowly rise, supporting her as she stood, her legs somewhat unsteady beneath her.

“Alright, that's it”

As Rafe helped Y/n slowly stand, Sarah came rushing down the stairs, her face flushed from the hurry. Cleo was right behind her, holding a bag in one hand and a frantic expression on her face.

“Rafe!” Sarah called out, her voice breathless. “We got the bag Y/n left last time.”

She handed it over to Rafe, but before he could take it, Cleo swiped it from her hands with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“Let the man take her to the car,” Cleo said, “I got this.”

Cleo gave Rafe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning to Y/n. “You’re good, girl. Just focus on not giving birth in here, aight?”

Y/n let out a soft chuckle, despite the tension in the air. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she repeated, her voice calm and steady. Rafe shot Cleo a grateful look, still holding Y/n’s arm as she stood by herself, steady on her feet.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, before turning back to Y/n. “Okay, baby, let’s get you to the car. You sure you’re alright to walk?”

Y/n gave him a sideways glance, rolling her eyes a little. “I’m fine, Rafe, really.”

But before they could make it to the door, Kiara popped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of concern and determination. “Wait, wait, don’t leave without me I want to say goodbye!”

Sarah quickly followed behind, carrying a jacket for Y/n, while Pope grabbed his keys, shaking his head in amusement. The group swarmed around Y/n, helping her navigate the small space. It was a chaotic rush of arms and voices as everyone tried to keep the situation under control- except for Y/n, who was walking at a steady pace, looking far calmer than anyone else in the room. It was amusing, watching everyone fuss over her, she couldn't wait till the baby was here and they’d have all their aunts and uncles fussing at their every cry.

“I swear, I’m fine,” she said again, giving Rafe a teasing smile as she walked on her own. “I’ve got this.”

Rafe’s eyes were glued to her, his brow furrowed in concern, but a small smile tugged at his lips as he followed her toward the door.

“Alright, if you say so,” he muttered, his voice low but full of warmth.

The car was already parked outside, the engine running, the group had gathered around the car, each of them offering their well-wishes as Y/n leaned against the car door, not wanting to get in till Rafe came out. He’d gone back in to the bathroom and Sarah had scolded him for being an ‘unprofessional dad-to-be’ which he told her to ‘fuck off’. Sarah called out, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Good luck, Y/n! Let us know when Baby Cameron gets here!” 

“You got this,” Kiara added, offering a smile. “Call us if you need anything- I mean we can’t give birth but you know….”

Cleo, arms crossed and leaning against the car, smirked. “Don’t be taking forever, yeah? I wanna meet the little Poguette!”

“Poguette? We don’t know the gender yet” Pope asked as he turned to the girl eyebrows drawn down into a small confused frown

“Don’t worry- auntie Cleo’s got a feeling” She responded with a wide smile as she winked to Y/n causing her to giggle.

“I think you mean Kookette not Poguette” 

Rafe spoke up as he appeared back from the house helping the girl into her seat. Y/n, sitting in the car, gave them all a tired but genuine smile, her face a little flushed from the effort. “I’ll do my best. Don’t worry, you’ll all get your chance to meet Baby Cameron soon.”

Rafe was about to close the door when she paused.

“Wait!”

The group froze, and all eyes snapped toward her, panic flashing in their faces for a brief second.

“Is everything okay? Are you—?” Sarah started, her tone suddenly worried.

Y/n looked up at her friends, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Biting her bottom lip gently before she spoke out, 

“Are there any of those cookies left?”

The entire group stared at her for a beat, then burst into laughter, the tension breaking in an instant. Kiara snorted. “Nope, you ate them all, girl, not a crumb left.”

Y/n’s face dropped in exaggerated disappointment. “Aw, man… they were so good.”

Rafe, who had just started to walk around the front of the car, stopped and turned back to her with a grin. “Come on, baby. You’ll get your cookies in the hospital. I promise.”

“Guess that’ll have to do.”

Y/n sighed softly, leaning back into her seat with a deep breath. Kiara leaned in the window, shaking her head but grinning. “You’re gonna eat cookies while in labor…?”

“Hey, it’s what I want.”

Rafe sighed, shaking his head at the girl, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile that crept onto his face as he finally closed the door. He muttered, half to himself, as he walked around to the driver’s side. “We’re getting you to the hospital, cookies or not.”

The group waved them off, still laughing and calling out their goodbyes, as Rafe got in the car. Y/n smiled at the familiar faces outside the window before the car pulled away, heading toward the hospital.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive from the Cut to Figure 8 was a blur. Rafe’s focus was entirely on the road, but his eyes kept flicking over to Y/n, every so often. She was gripping the handle on the roof of the car, her knuckles white as the pain of her contractions began to intensify. Rafe’s hand rested on her thigh, his fingers gently squeezing as he glanced at her.

“How we doing baby?” 

He asked softly, though he could already see the tightness in her jaw, the way she was trying to breathe through the pain. Y/n groaned lowly, her grip on the car handle tightening as her breath hitched. 

“Mmm, not great…” 

She muttered, her voice strained. Her back arched slightly as another wave of pain hit, and her hand shifted to rest protectively on her belly. Rafe’s heart ached for her, but he kept his voice steady, trying to keep her calm.

“Breathe, baby. Yeah? Just like we practiced in the classes.” 

His voice was gentle, encouraging, though it wasn’t lost on him how much harder it was for her now. Y/n nodded slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her whole body rocked with the rhythm, but it didn’t stop the groans slipping out of her.

“That’s it, baby. Good—”

“Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Her voice was sharp despite the pain, and Rafe froze for a moment, blinking in surprise at her words but he couldn't help but accept them with a nod. She was the one in labour not him. Y/n’s hand pressed harder against her bump as she groaned, her head resting back against the seat, her body arching slightly in response to the contraction.

She wasn’t having it.

Rafe couldn’t help but smile slightly at her attitude, but it was tender as he spoke, “Okay, okay,” he muttered, his hand still gently on her thigh. “I’m sorry.”

He kept his eyes on the road driving carefully, now that he had precious cargo in his car, but they would flicker occasionally to Y/n in the passenger’s seat. Always watching, always waiting, as they pushed forward toward the hospital. The pain was coming in waves now, each one crashing over her with more intensity than the last. Y/n’s body was tense, and her breathing was shallow, but she still managed to mutter through the strain, 

“Sorry… just hurts…”

Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the road, but Y/n could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles went white around the wheel.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, baby,” Rafe said softly, his voice tight.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his for a split second. He looked anxious, his focus split between her and the road ahead. The tightness in his posture didn’t escape her, and she could see how much he was trying to hold it together. With a small, reassuring smile, Y/n placed her hand over his, which was still resting on her thigh. The touch was gentle but firm, 

“Ready to meet Baby Cameron?” 

She mumbled, her voice soft but sincere, trying to ease some of the stress in the car. Rafe’s breath hitched at the mention of their baby, and he glanced down at their hands, a small smile crossing his face. He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing gently across her skin.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m so lucky that you’re the mother of my child Y/n… I love you.”

She squeezed his hand back, her eyes softening as she leaned back against the seat. Her breath was steadier now, a calmness settling in her chest as she gave him a small, exhausted smile.

“I love you, too, Rafey,” she whispered back.

—

The car crawled forward for a few agonizing seconds before the engine came to a halt once more. Rafe slammed his hand against the horn in frustration, the sharp sound echoing through the stillness of the traffic. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, his jaw clenched tight.

“Fuck.” 

He muttered under his breath, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of why the cars ahead weren’t moving. Y/n, breath coming in heavy bursts now, groaned quietly beside him, trying to steady herself as another wave of pain rolled through her. 

“Rafe…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he spoke out to her, his voice tight with frustration. “No one’s fucking moving.”

She turned her head slowly, her hand resting on her belly as she let out another shaky breath. She could feel the tension radiating off him, could see the way his shoulders were hunched in that familiar way he got when he was stressed.

“Rafe, please… just relax,” 

She said softly, though she was struggling to keep her own calm with each passing minute. It was no use because he could barely sit still anymore. Without another word, he threw the door open, slamming it behind him, and stepped out into the stagnant heat of the afternoon. Y/n’s eyes followed him through the windshield as he walked down the line of cars, frustration written in his tense shoulders. The bridge conjoining The Cut to Figure 8 stretched ahead, a long line of unmoving vehicles in both directions, but it seemed like nothing was happening. No one was getting anywhere.

Rafe walked halfway down the bridge, his eyes scanning the cars as he tried to figure out what was going on. He stopped beside a car with a window rolled down, the driver staring out at the traffic in the same defeated way everyone else was. Rafe stepped closer, his voice terse as he addressed the guy. 

“What’s going on up there?”

The guy glanced at him, his face creased with annoyance. “Accident upfront and tree fell in the back. Gonna be stuck here for a while, man.”

Rafe let out a low curse, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck.”

He stood there for a second, staring at the endless line of cars, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. They were stuck. Stuck in the one place they couldn’t afford to be, halfway in the middle of nowhere. Taking a deep breath, Rafe turned around and started walking back toward the car. The frustration was palpable in every step, but it didn’t touch his determination. Rafe opened the door to the car, his eyes already scanning the area as he made his way back toward Y/n. But the moment his gaze landed on the seat next to him, his heart skipped a beat.

She wasn’t there.

His mind raced as he blinked, looking around the car in confusion. He slammed the door shut, his breath quickening as he jogged over to the other side of the vehicle, checking the backseat and the floor. Where the hell could she have gone? His pulse started to race- this wasn’t happening.

“Y/n?” he called out, his voice frantic.

He spun around, looking down the bridge, feeling the panic rise in his chest. She couldn’t have just disappeared, she’s literally a nine month pregnant woman, she wasn’t easy to lose. His eyes locked on a figure at the end of the bridge, and his heart dropped into his stomach. 

There she was.

Y/n was standing at the far side of the bridge, her body leaning slightly against the wall, one hand resting gently on her bump. She looked serene in a way, her posture relaxed even in the midst of the chaos, but Rafe could see the slight tremor in her shoulders, the way she was swaying lightly from side to side. The air around him seemed to still as he watched her, his thoughts spiraling, but then he broke into a jog, moving toward her with urgency.

“Y/n!” 

He called out again, his voice rough. She didn’t seem to hear him at first, or maybe she was just focused on the feeling of her own body, her eyes unfocused as she rubbed her belly in slow, soothing circles, looking down at her hand. Rafe’s steps quickened, and when he reached her side, he gently cupped her arm, his fingers warm against her skin.

“You can’t just run off like that! Are you crazy?” 

His voice was sharp, but underneath it, the worry was clear. He wanted to scold her for being out of the car, but the relief flooding him kept him from doing anything but reaching for her. Y/n raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his scolding, as she gently rubbed her belly. 

“I just wanted some air, Rafey,” she replied with a calmness that made Rafe’s frustration falter for a second.

“Jesus, woman,” he muttered, shaking his head. His shoulders dropped in exasperation as he sighed. “I—I don’t know what I’d do- what if I lost you huh?”

She smiled at his concern, “I'm nine months pregnant and in labour, I doubt I would’ve gotten very far Rafe.” A soft, reassuring smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, that helped calm some of the nerves still buzzing in his chest.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the car,” 

He said, his voice softer now, his hand gently brushing the hair away from her face as he guided her back, but as they started walking back toward the car, Y/n’s eyes drifted behind him, catching something in the distance. Rafe looked over his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Y/n’s gaze lingered on the gas station behind them, her fingers lightly playing with his as she spoke. 

“Really want some cookies right now…” 

She said, her voice full of that playful lilt. Rafe blinked, taking a moment to process what she was saying before he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Are you serious right now?”

Y/n looked at him with a sweet, innocent expression. “Mmhmm.”

Rafe stared at her for a long moment, torn between disbelief and the need to smile. He glanced at the car, then at the standstill traffic behind him, a long sigh leaving his lips as the realization set in.

“Please?” 

Y/n added, her voice soft but pleading, her hand still holding his with that familiar touch which guided his palm to rest it against her baby bump which made it hard for him to say no. Rafe’s lips curled into a reluctant smile. 

“C’mon then,” he sighed, shaking his head in mock defeat. “Let’s just be quick, aight?”

And just like that, they veered off toward the gas station, Y/n’s determination to get her cookies almost making Rafe forget about the fact she was in labour, if it wasn’t for her groan every couple of minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door of the gas station swung open, the little golden bell above it ringing as soon as they stepped inside, Y/n’s breathing hitched. Rafe was right behind her, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, ready to support her. Yet the moment the door closed behind them, Y/n groaned loudly, the contraction hitting her with full force. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, and her hand instinctively went to her belly. A few people in the gas station glanced over, some in surprise, others in concern, but Rafe barely noticed them as he leaned closer to her, his voice low and calm.

“Let’s grab your cookies and go, baby,” he murmured, his breath brushing against her ear.

Y/n barely registered his words, still trying to push through the pain, her face scrunching in discomfort as she stepped forwards towards the sweet treat aisle. She let out another soft, pained groan as she leaned against the shelf, her hand gripping the cool metal for support.

She scanned the shelves in front of her, her eyes landing on a pack of cookies, double chocolate-chip. They weren’t Sarah’s but she guessed they would have to do. She grabbed one, then another right next to it, her body rocking slightly as she breathed heavily through the contraction.

Rafe stood behind her, watching in a mix of concern and frustration, trying to hold everything together while his brain screamed that they needed to hurry. He sighed quietly, trying to hold his patience as he watched whilst she picked up random things off the shelves- gatorade, crisps… a microwavable hot-dog for one? He furrowed his eyebrows at the girl as she shoved them all into his arms, groaning in distress, was she planning on having a picnic in the hospital?

“Is that good now?” 

Rafe asked quietly, glancing at her with a raised brow as he balanced the pile of items in his arms. Y/n didn’t even look up at him. She was bent over slightly, both hands gripping onto the handles of the fridge, her body still rocking gently as the contraction slowly passed. She nodded, the sound of her breath steadying now. 

“Mmhmm,” 

She mumbled, barely able to focus on anything other than the sharp ache she was still feeling.

“Jesus,” 

Rafe muttered under his breath, his frustration mixing with disbelief at the bizarre situation, as he moved toward the counter to pay. He tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes flicking from Y/n to the Rolex on his wrist. The seconds were ticking by, and every minute felt like an eternity. He glanced over his shoulder at the long queue in front of him, a subtle frown on his face. He hated waiting, but he hated even more that they were stuck in this gas station in the first place. Y/n was still by the fridge, her back slightly arched as she leaned against it, trying to breathe through the pain of another contraction. Her groan echoed loudly through the small shop, and Rafe felt his stomach tighten.

“Oh my Gooooooooddddd-”

The people in line ahead of him turned around at the sound, their eyes narrowing as they glanced in the direction Y/n was. Rafe clenched his jaw, his grip on the products in his arms tightening as he fought to keep his composure. Another loud groan broke through the silence, and Rafe’s patience snapped. He shot a look at the guy in front of him who seemed somewhat disturbed by the sound, his teeth gritting as he tried to stay calm but his irritation bubbled over, and he shot at him quickly, his voice sharp.

“She’s pregnant, okay?” 

He snapped, his gaze hardening. The man blinked, taken aback by the harshness in Rafe’s voice. The rest of the people in line seemed to take a step back, all of them suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation. Rafe was breathing heavily now, his mind racing as the seconds dragged on, but he couldn’t look away from Y/n. She was still by the fridge, still gripped by the pain of the contractions, but somehow, there was a calmness in her, even in the middle of everything, and she was now once again rocking softly back and forth. He exhaled, trying to push down the anger and frustration bubbling up inside.

The man in front of Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his face showing quick understanding. Without another word, he grabbed his items from the counter and muttered a hurried, “Sorry,” as he quickly walked past Rafe, giving him space. Rafe, barely noticing the man’s retreat, threw the items he was holding down onto the counter with a frustrated sigh. His eyes immediately darted back to Y/n, his head swiveling as he tried to spot her over the shelves. The moment he looked away from the counter, though, a voice interrupted his frantic search.

“Rafe?”

Rafe froze. He knew that voice. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, but of course, he did anyway. There, standing a few feet away, was John B. He groaned inwardly. How much worse could this get? He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Pogue.” The name slipped from his lips, a reflexive reaction to the guy who always seemed to be around just when Rafe didn’t need him. John B gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly trying to keep the peace, but Rafe could see the faint annoyance in his eyes.

“You need a bag?” 

John B asked, trying to be helpful, but Rafe wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

“Uh, yeah,” 

Rafe replied absently, barely glancing at John B as he spoke. His focus was entirely on trying to spot Y/n. His hands clenched the card in his hand as he tried to spot her around the shelves, his eyes scanning every inch of the small store. He didn’t even wait for John B to reply as his feet moved instinctively, carrying him away from the counter. He walked quickly down the aisles, his breath shallow as he called out her name, his voice strained with the urgency and stress building inside him.

“Y/n?”

His eyes darted from side to side, but there was no sign of her. He rounded the corner to another aisle, his heart starting to race as panic set in. He called out again, his voice louder this time. 

“Y/n?!”

But there was still no response. Rafe felt the irritation crawling up his spine, seriously? Not again.

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, his words laced with frustration as he threw a glance back at the counter. He felt like the whole world was working against him right now. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to John B, ready to ask if he’d seen Y/n, but then something caught his attention. The door near the counter, with a small blue sign W/C, was just slightly cracked open- it was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He shot a quick glance at John B, his jaw tightening. 

“Put my stuff to the side,” 

Rafe said, his tone clipped, he once again didn’t wait for an answer, already moving toward the bathroom door. The women’s, men’s, and disabled toilets were all closed, but Rafe stepped closer to the disabled bathroom, he placed his ear against the door, trying to hear anything over the noise in the gas station.

It was then he heard it- a soft groan, followed by heavy breathing.

A slight whine escaped the other side of the door, and his pulse raced. Without thinking, he knocked gently against it, his voice low but full of urgency. 

“Baby?”

A faint voice from within answered, weak but clear.

“Yeah?”

Rafe let out a relieved breath, his forehead resting briefly against the door, relief slowly hitting him. For a moment, he just stood there, collecting himself before he pulled back, his hand still gripping the handle of the door but it didn’t move. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he needed to stay calm- for her- well maybe for himself too.

“Are you okay?” 

He asked, his voice soft but still edged with concern.There was a pause before her voice came through, strained but almost casual. 

“Um…yeah?”

“What do you mean, um?”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at her response. Another groan came from the other side of the door, followed by a sigh. 

“Well, I… uh, I thought I needed to use the toilet, but now that I’m in here… I think I need to push.”

“NO!”

Rafe’s eyes widened, and before he could even think, he blurted out the word. His hands raked over his hair, the panic setting in as his mind raced. 

“Baby, no- no, don’t push, okay? Please. I need you to open the door.”

He could hear her groaning again, and the sound made his chest tighten, “Y/n, I need you to open the door, okay? So we can go to the hospital. Are you listening to me, baby?” 

His voice cracked with desperation as he waited for her response. Rafe took a step back from the door, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. His mind was spinning in panic, but he was doing his best to keep it together. Another groan came from the other side of the door, louder this time, and Rafe’s chest tightened.

“Rafe, I can’t… I can’t open the door,” her voice cracked, strained. “I need to push.”

His breath hitched, and he placed a hand against the door, his grip tightening. “Okay, okay. It’s okay.” His voice was soft but desperate.

 “I’m gonna come in, yeah?”

There was a brief silence before her voice came through again, strained but barely audible. 

“Yeah.”

The word was cut off by another loud groan, and the sound sent a jolt of panic through Rafe’s veins. Rafe’s patience snapped. Without a second thought, he barreled back to the counter, his voice urgent as he slammed his palm onto the surface.

“I need the key to the toilets Y/n is stuck in the disabled one.” 

His words came out in a rush, and John B didn’t hesitate. His brows furrowed in concern, and he quickly reached under the counter, pulling out multiple sets of keys before he found the right one. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it.” 

He gripped them in his hand as he looked at Rafe, he’s never seen the brunette so worried. “Sorry,” John B muttered to the guy on the other side of the counter as he quickly stood up, walking around the register. Rafe was ready to go straight back to Y/n when suddenly, John B called out.

“JJ!”

Rafe froze for a split second. Not him too. He shook his head in disbelief. What had he done to deserve this? He knew he had been a dick to so many people, for so many years, but was this really the punishment he deserved. JJ, the last person Rafe wanted to deal with, sauntered up to the counter with his signature blonde hair and cocky grin, with a zoot tucked behind his ear. 

“Sup?” he asked, sounding entirely too carefree for the situation.

“Need you to take over the counter for a bit,” 

John B said, his voice tight with urgency. JJ nodded lazily, unconcerned, “Mkay, my man,” he said, easily slipping into the role. John B turned back to Rafe, and the Cameron boy grabbed his arm.

 “Let’s go.”

They both moved toward the corridor with all the bathrooms, John B crouched in front of the disabled toilet door, the key in his hand as he started to unlock it. Rafe stood by him, his muscles tense, feeling like he could finally somewhat breathe again now that they were this close. They were about to get Y/n out, and finally going to leave this godforsaken place.

“Don’t worry, man,” John B said, trying to reassure him as he worked the key into the lock. “We’re gonna get her out of there.”

But then, there was a loud snapping sound. Both of them froze.

Rafe’s stomach dropped. 

“What? What is it?” 

His voice was sharp, fear creeping in. John B hesitated, his face a mixture of guilt and disbelief. “Well… um… the key broke.”

Rafe blinked in stunned silence. “What? Speak up!”

John B looked back at him, the words tumbling out quickly. “The key broke.”

Rafe’s frustration hit a boiling point, his voice cracking with anger as he slammed his hand against the wall angrily. 

“What the fuck do you mean, you broke the key?!”

“I’m sorry! It was an accident, alright?” John B’s hands shot up in defense.

Rafe’s eyes went wide. “How the hell do you fuck up opening a door? Are you fucking serious right now!?”

Before John B could answer, they both heard a loud voice from the other side of the room. “Heyyy, what’s going on here? What’s all the yelling for?” Rafe’s head snapped toward the voice. He could feel his blood boil. Of course. It was JJ. Of course it was. John B rolled his eyes. 

“Y/n’s stuck in the toilet, and I broke the key-”

Then, a loud, strained groan from the other side of the door cut him off. Y/n’s voice echoed out, desperate and pained. 

“Fuuuucckkkk,”

Rafe slammed his hand against the door, his voice softer but filled with worry. “Baby, you okay?” There was a brief pause before she answered. 

“Yeah, just… fuuuuuuck…”

“Jesus,” Rafe muttered, running his hands through his hair, trying to keep it together. John B glanced at him. 

“What was that?”

Rafe’s breath quickened, his anxiety rising again as he looked down to the door handle of the door, the snapped metal now lodging into the keyhole. 

“She’s in labor.”

JJ blinked, processing that. “What  the  fuck?”

“And now she’s fucking stuck in there… because of you!” Rafe growled, his eyes narrowing in fury. “I swear to god-”

But before Rafe could say anything more, JJ was already moving. He pushed past both of them, walking straight up to the door. Rafe stared at him, scoffing in disbelief. JJ turned to face the door, knuckles knocking against the wood in a rhythmic pattern. He called out, looking toward the door,

“Hey sunshine,” 

“JJ?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” JJ answered as he pulled his cap off and readjusted his hair, putting it back on backwards. “I need you to take a step away from the door.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Rafe’s confusion was evident, his brow furrowed. JJ didn’t respond. He kicked the door hard, and the force of it echoed in the space, making Rafe’s heart skip a beat as he realised what the boy was trying to do.

“Wait!”

He called out as he rushed forward, his voice frantic as he called out to Y/n.

“Y/n, I need you to step back from the door, yeah?”

“I just told her that.” 

JJ spoke back to the boy, hands out in the air in confusion at his actions. Rafe rolled his eye’s as he spoke back so Y/n couldn’t hear, 

“She’s a stubborn pregnant woman, obviously she’s not going to listen to you.” 

JJ gave him a look before shrugging his shoulders, “touché.” From the other side, her breath was labored, each inhale shaky. “Ughh… okay,” she responded weakly, and there was a faint sound of movement behind the door.

“Have you done that for me, Y/n?” 

Rafe’s voice was strained, as if he was holding onto his patience by a thread. Another soft “yeah” came from her, and he stepped back, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Without saying another word, Rafe squared his shoulders. The frustration of the past few minutes boiled over. He looked at the door one last time and, without hesitation, launched his foot into it with everything he had. The sound of his kick reverberated through the small space, but the door didn’t budge. John B stepped forward, shaking his head in skepticism, but nevertheless he kicked the door next, his hit less forceful than Rafe’s but still forcefull. 

Nothing.

JJ followed suit, throwing his foot at the door, his kick full of impatience. 

Still nothing.

Rafe watched them, frustration building in his chest. “Get out of my way,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Without another word, he ripped his jacket off in a quick motion, tossing it aside as he stepped forward with sheer determination. This time, he didn’t just kick. He slammed his foot into the door again and again, each strike more powerful than the last, the force of his anger and desperation driving him. Finally, with one last powerful kick, the door swung open, the sound echoing loudly in the small hallways to the toilets. 

Rafe rushed in, his breath still heavy from the effort of kicking the door in. His eyes darted across the cramped space until he found Y/n. She was sitting there, slumped against the toilet, arm supporting herself on the sink next to her as she sat leant over, her face flushed with sweat, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Sweet girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, his fingers trembling slightly. 

“Are you okay? C’mon, let’s get you to the hospital, yeah?”

Y/n’s eyes were wide, and her grip tightened around his wrist. “I can’t… I can’t, Rafe,” she gasped, her voice a strained, breathless whimper. 

“I need to push, Rafe… I can’t—” 

The words trailed off as another wave of contraction hit her, causing her body to tense up. Rafe’s heart dropped in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d promised her he’d make sure everything was smooth, that she’d be in a safe, controlled place when the baby came. This definitely wasn’t how he’d envisioned the birth of his first child to happen.

“Okay, it’s okay-” 

He whispered, his hand brushing the small strands of damp hair away from her flushed, sweaty face. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile, even though inside, panic clawed at him. 

“-I’m here now, yeah? C’mon, let’s get you comfortable.”

And as he gently helped her try to shift, he held her gaze, his own filled with worry and tenderness. He wasn’t sure how things would play out from here, but he knew one thing- he was going to make it work. 

The moment John B and JJ stepped through the door coming back from locking up the door of the small gas station shop, they froze. Their eyes locked on Y/n, who was still leaning against the sink, her breathing ragged and uneven, sweat dripping down her face. JJ’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth falling open.

“Oh shit,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. 

“This is like for real- she’s in labor… like it’s legit-”

Rafe didn’t even look at them as he snapped into action, the blonde boys rambles falling on deaf ears. His focus was solely on Y/n, his voice low and strained. 

“Go get some towels, some water- anything.”

They both stared at him motionless as they took in the scene of the Kook who’d tormented them for so many years, gently help the girl down to a sitting position on the floor.

“NOW!” 

He barked out. John B and JJ scrambled out of the bathroom, their feet clattering as they bumped into each other in their rush to get the supplies. They didn’t say anything, just focused on finding whatever they could to help in their panic. Rafe turned back to Y/n, his face softening despite the storm of anxiety in his chest.

 “C’mon, let me help you.”

He murmured, his hands gently gripping her arms as he helped her pull down her sweatpants, hands lovingly rubbing against her calves in an attempt to comfort her. Y/n hummed out slightly, her uneasiness palpable, but as another contraction hit, she winced, her face contorting in pain. Rafe’s brows furrowed with concern, his heart aching for her. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just breathe. We’re gonna get through this, okay?”

And just as she nodded, another wave of pain hit, and Rafe exhaled in frustration, running a hand over his hair. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the rush of panic rising inside him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gas station bathroom looked nothing like it had before. Blankets and towels were scattered across the floor beneath Y/n, cushioning her knees as she rocked back and forth, panting through each wave of pain. Bottles of water and crumpled packaging littered the corners- whatever JJ and John B had managed to grab in their scramble. Y/n’s skin glistened with sweat, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. She reached up with trembling hands, tugging at her top, desperate to get it off. The sticky fabric clung to her skin, and she let out a frustrated groan.  

"Here, baby, let me—" Rafe’s voice cut off as his phone buzzed against his ear, someone's voice being heard from the other side. He was crouched down, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.  

"Yeah, okay, yeah—she's on the floor, towels everywhere. No, the hospital’s blocked off! We're stuck. I've just told you this, are you even listening to me!" 

His voice cracked, running high with panic. John B sat awkwardly near Y/n’s head, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Her hand suddenly shot out, fingers digging painfully into his arm. His breath hitched, tears stinging his eyes. He muttered, voice shaky, 

"Shit- okay, okay, you're okay," 

Y/n barely managed to choke out, "Sorry," between laboured breaths as her nails digged into his skin. John B’s voice squeaked, 

"It's fine! Totally fine!" 

His face twisted in pain, but he didn’t dare pull away. JJ hovered uselessly in the doorway, wide-eyed and wringing his hands feeling a little awkward with the situation at hand. 

“Uh… y’all need anything else? Snacks? Beer? No—okay, cool.”  

Rafe paced in a tight circle before crouching behind Y/n again, gripping the phone. The nurse’s voice was brisk but calm as she spoke into his ear,“Can you see the baby’s head, sir?”  

Rafe swallowed hard, leaning over for a quick glance. His face was drained of all colour.  

“Uh… yeah I can see the head.”  

Y/n’s head snapped up. "What?! What do you mean you can see it?!"  

Rafe’s eyes were wide, panic rising in his throat as the nurse’s voice cut through the phone, steady and firm. “Listen to me carefully. That means she’s ready to push. You need to place your hand firmly against the baby’s head to guide it out slowly. If it comes too fast, there’s a risk of decapitation.”  

Rafe froze. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared at Y/n, blinking rapidly, his mind spiralling. His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, but fear was holding him in place, like a heavy weight on his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. He had no idea what to do, only that he couldn’t screw this up. 

“Hello? Sir? Are you still there? Is everything okay?”  

He cleared his throat, forcing the words out.  

"Yeah—yeah, I’m here."  

Rafe squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a shaky hand down his face, his fingers briefly pressing into his eye’s. He needed to keep it together, but every second felt heavier than the last. He sucked in a breath, grounding himself before snapping his head up.  

“JJ! Get over here and hold this fucking phone!”  

JJ shuffled forward, noticeably hesitant, eyes fixed awkwardly on the wall as he stood beside Rafe, who held the phone out for the boy slightly. However, as the blond boy refused to look down Rafe remained with his hand held out, causing him to look away from Y/n and see the boy still staring straight ahead at the wall. Rafe stared at him, disbelief simmering under his skin. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”  

“Bro?”  

John B glanced over from where he was crouched by Y/n’s head, frowning. JJ muttered under his breath, barely audible. Rafe’s patience snapped. 

“What!?”  

“Listen, your girl is literally naked right there, man! I don’t wanna look- it’s disrespectful!”  

JJ winced, shoulders tensing. Rafe’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. His fists balled at his sides, knuckles white. Every muscle in his body screamed to just hit him, to shake the stupidity right out of him. He could see himself doing it- just one solid punch.  But instead, Rafe forced himself to take a breath, exhaling hard through his nose. He dragged a hand roughly over his face once again, muttering, “Jesus Christ-”  

Y/n let out a sharp, pained groan, her voice cracking.  

“JJ, I don’t care! Just help him- oh SHIIIIIIT!”  

Her scream cut through the room like a knife, yanking everyone’s attention back to reality. JJ’s eyes shot wide. 

“Okay! Okay! If you insist-”  

He didn’t even get the words out before Rafe shoved the phone- now on speaker- hard into his chest. JJ scrambled to steady it, and as his eyes flicked down, his face drained of colour as he looked at Y/n. The very top of the baby’s head was there. 

“Holy shit, Y/n there’s like a fucking baby in your pussy-”  

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JJ!” 

Y/n’s scream was sharp and furious, echoing in the cramped space. JJ jumped, gripping the phone like it might explode.  

“Okay! Sorry! Jesus!” 

His voice cracked as he lifted the phone so they could hear it if the nurse spoke out. Rafe knelt back down behind Y/n, and he swallowed hard, as he felt the slick warmth of Y/n's skin under his palm, pressing his hand gently but firmly against the top of the baby’s head, just like the nurse had told him. His other hand rubbed slow, steady circles along the curve of her trembling back, grounding her as best he could. His heart was thundering in his chest, but he forced his voice to stay calm, soft- for her.

“Okay, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I need you to listen to me, yeah?”

Y/n’s head lolled against her arm, sweat-damp hair clinging to her flushed face as she let out a shaky breath. His voice firmed, but it was still gentle, coaxing. His hand didn’t stop moving on her back. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good. But I really, really need you to push on the next contraction, alright?”

Her glassy eyes flickered to his, searching, scared. He gave her the smallest, crooked smile despite the panic clawing at him. 

“We’re so close, yeah? You’re so strong. Just one big push for me, okay?”

Y/n’s fingers dug into the blankets beneath her, knuckles white. She gave a slight, barely-there nod.

“That’s my girl,” his hand pressed steady against the baby’s head, the other still rubbing soothingly along her back, “Next one, baby. We’re gonna meet our little Cameron. You’ve got this.”

Y/n clenched her jaw, groaning through another push, but Rafe could feel it- nothing was changing. He leaned back slightly, panic creeping into his features, and turned towards the phone in JJ’s grip.

“I—nothing’s happening,” he said quickly, his voice strained, eyes darting from the phone to Y/n’s hunched figure. “What’s going on? Why isn’t the baby moving?”

The nurse’s voice came through, calm but firm. “She’s not pushing hard enough. You need to get the baby out soon, Mr Cameron. The longer the baby stays in the birth canal, the more risk there is of oxygen deprivation.”

Fuck. Rafe’s heart plummeted at the words, and he felt his hand slip slightly against Y/n’s damp skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting to respond, but before he could, a faint sound drew his attention.

“Rafe…”

It was John B, his voice hesitant, almost soft. He was kneeling at Y/n’s side, her trembling fingers curled weakly around his forearm. 

“Rafe, man… I think you need to talk to her…” 

He said quietly, glancing down at the way Y/n’s grip seemed to falter, her breaths shallow and uneven. Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the sight of her pain and exhaustion. God, she wasn’t even on any painkillers, he didn’t want to imagine how she felt right now. His eyes darted between Y/n and the phone before he scrubbed a hand over his buzzed hair, frustration and fear mixing in his expression. John B slowly rose to his feet, giving Y/n’s hand a small squeeze before letting go. He turned to Rafe who had also risen, his face softer than it usually was when the two of them interacted.

“You heard what she said,” Rafe said slowly, voice tight.

John B met his eyes and gave a small, steady nod. “Yeah. I heard.”

Without warning, Rafe’s hand shot out and fisted the front of John B’s shirt, yanking him in close, nose to nose. His grip was iron, knuckles white.

“You hurt my child…” Rafe’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his blue eyes blazing, “…I’ll kill you. Is that clear, John B?”

John B didn’t flinch, didn’t fight back. He just stared at Rafe, steady and calm. Because for the first time, he wasn’t seeing Rafe Cameron the hotheaded psycho- he was seeing a terrified father on the edge.

“Yeah,” John B said quietly, voice even. “Crystal.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked over his face, searching for any sign of weakness, but all he saw was understanding. He slowly uncurled his fingers, shoving John B back slightly. Without another word, they switched places. John B moved towards the phone, kneeling behind Y/n and Rafe dropped to his knees beside her, his hands instantly reaching for hers. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her own holding her hand, while the other gently rubbed along her back in slow, grounding circles.

“Hey, hey, baby, look at me,” 

He murmured, his voice softer now, but the cracks of fear still clung to the edges. Y/n barely lifted her head, her body trembling. 

“Rafe… I can’t,” she whispered, her voice thin and shaky, “I’m so tired-”

Rafe’s chest tightened, his throat burning. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not like this. Not here in this crappy gas station bathroom.

“I know, sweet girl… I know,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this for you.”

Y/n shook her head faintly, her grip on his wrist weakening.

“No, baby, listen to me.”

 Rafe cupped her face, his thumbs brushing the sweat from her cheeks. His own eyes were glassy now, but his voice steadied. “I need you to be strong for me now, yeah? Just a little longer. You can do this. You’re so close.”

She blinked at him, breath shaky, and he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against hers.

“Please, baby. For me. For our baby.”

Y/n swallowed hard, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she gave him the faintest nod.

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as his thumb came out to wipe her cheek free of the salty water.. 

“That’s my girl.”

Y/n let out a guttural groan as she pushed with everything she had on her next contraction, her entire body trembling under the effort. Rafe was right beside her, one hand braced on her back, the other still gently cupping her hand, which she gripped ferociously.

“Oh my God- the head’s out!” 

John B shouted, voice laced with disbelief and panic. He was kneeld awkwardly, eyes wide as he stared down. JJ was next to him, his knees slipping slightly on the layered towels. 

“Holy shit, man, I see it! Okay, okay, you’re so close, Y/n!” His voice was high with adrenaline, but there was something soft in it, too. “Come on, mama, just a little more, you’re about to meet your baby!”

Rafe tightened his grip on Y/n’s shoulder, leaning in close, his breath shaky. “Sweet girl, we’re right there, yeah? One more push. You’ve got this.”

The nurse crackled through the phone still in JJ’s shaky grip, “Support the baby’s head! Careful, slow—don’t let it drop!” JJ scrambled, hands trembling as he carefully cupped the tiny, slick head, his face frozen in panic. “Okay, okay, I got it—I got it! Oh my God, John B, help me!” John B, swallowing his own panic, steadied JJ’s hands, both of them crouched and bracing themselves.

“Y/n, baby, one more. Just one more push,” 

Rafe whispered, voice breaking but full of determination. Y/n let out a ragged sob, gripping Rafe’s arm like a lifeline, her face buried into his neck. She drew in a shaking breath and bore down, crying out as her body strained.

“There we go!” John B’s voice cracked with disbelief. “The shoulders are coming!” JJ’s eyes were wide, hands gently guiding the tiny body. Rafe’s hand slid to her damp cheek, brushing her hair back. 

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

And in the next moment, the baby slipped free into JJ and John B’s waiting hands, their eyes wide with shock and awe. For a moment, the entire room was still. Breathless. Then, the silence shattered. A sharp, piercing wail filled the air—raw, loud, and alive.

The baby was crying.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” the nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with warmth. “That’s exactly what we want to hear, means their airways are clear- congratulations!” the nurse’s voice came through, vibrating with relief.

Y/n’s body sagged with relief, sobs breaking free as she wept, trembling from exhaustion and overwhelming joy. Rafe let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His chest tightened, and his eyes, glossed over, locked on Y/n, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh, sweet girl…” His voice was raw as he leaned in, cupping her tear-streaked face. 

“I’m so proud of you. You hear that?” 

He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, voice breaking. “That’s our baby Y/n, you did that.” He pressed soft, lingering kisses to her forehead, his arms holding her close. Y/n’s breath hitched, tears slipping freely. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“Is it… is it a boy or a girl?”

John B, though still emotional, took the lead as he carefully placed his hands on the baby’s tiny chest, rubbing gently as the nurse instructed to ​​ensure air was circulating properly. His movements instinctual despite the fear and emotions tangled in his chest. 

“It’s a girl.”

A fragile, joyful sob escaped Y/n’s lips, her hand flying to her mouth. The nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, her tone calm and clear. “Alright, now I need you to swaddle the baby tightly, make sure she doesn’t get cold.”

JJ moved quickly, wrapping the baby snugly in the towel, his hands surprisingly gentle despite the chaos unfolding around them. The nurse continued as they worked on the little being amongst the towels. “And how’s mom? Make sure she’s covered up too, don’t want her getting cold either.”

John B, standing up from his kneeling position, grabbed a second blanket and draped it over Y/n, making sure it covered her body as he gently rubbed her back. “Good job, Y/n. You’re amazing.” Never in a million years did he think when he got a job at the gas station he would be helping to deliver his brother in law’s baby. Y/n, leaning heavily against Rafe, gave him a small, exhausted smile.

The nurse’s voice came through again, more reassuring this time. “Now, I need you to pass the baby to mum. Be gentle, don’t pull on the umbilical cord. The ambulance is just two minutes away.”

Rafe, still crouched behind Y/n, gently helped her lean back against his chest . His arms were wrapped securely around her, as he supported her with a steady, comforting presence. He gently adjusted her position, making sure her back was firmly against his chest, and spoke softly, his voice laced with concern, 

“You okay, baby?”

Y/n hummed softly, her breath shallow as she nodded faintly, exhaustion clouding her features. She leaned back further into him, her body still trembling, but her grip on her blanket was firm. Rafe gave her a soft kiss on the side of her head, his hands gently rubbing her arm in soothing circles. JJ gently cradled the newborn, his hands trembling slightly from the weight of the moment. 

“Well done sunshine.” 

He said softly, his voice full of emotion as he carefully passed the baby to Y/n. With shaky hands, Y/n cradled the baby to her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she looked down at the sweet, tiny face. Tears welled up in her eyes, the overwhelming joy of finally holding her daughter too much to contain. She let out a shaky sob, her heart swelling with emotion. Rafe leaned in close, his voice soft as he spoke, 

“It’s okay, we’ve got her now, yeah?” 

He wrapped his arms around Y/n from behind, his chin resting gently on her shoulder, offering her all the reassurance she needed. Y/n barely heard him though, her attention entirely on the little life in her arms. She watched as he ran a trembling finger over the baby’s cheek, the softness of his daughter's skin pulling at his heartstrings. 

“She looks just like you, Rafey” 

Y/n murmured, her voice full of awe. Rafe let out an emotional laugh, a tear slipping from his eye as he leaned in to kiss Y/n’s forehead, feeling completely overwhelmed by the moment. Y/n turned her head to look at him, and he leaned forward slightly to press his forehead gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet, sacred moment. After a moment of silence, he kissed her softly, his lips lingering for just a second. With glossy eyes, he whispered, 

“Thank you for giving us our sweet girl.”

Y/n smiled, her heart full as she leaned her head against his, both of them looking down at their peaceful, sleeping baby in her arms. Although baby Cameron was born in a gas station on the cut, in the hands of two Pogues who they didn't always get along with, and not in the prestigious private suite of the hospital they had planned to give birth in originally, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 Positive • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- There are three things you know for certain right now:

You're pregnant.

The father currently has his hands all over some blonde at The Wreck.

According to Topper, you're Rafe Cameron's favorite topic during locker room talk.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, unplanned pregnancy, cursing, angst no happy ending, readers a pouge, fuckboy!rafe (?) toppers a dickhead frl, mention of abortions (once)

main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 2.2k

"Fuck." You stare at the positive pregnancy test between your trembling fingers.

"Fuck," you curse again, realizing you're alone in your apartment with this life-changing news.

Of course this would happen.

After months of sneaking around, of heated encounters and promises to keep things casual, one reckless night was all it took. One moment where passion overrode common sense, where neither of you cared about consequences.

A hushed "I want to feel you, all of you," slipped from Rafe's lips as he paused, the condom still on, but his desire for you raw, uninhibited, consuming him. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours, silently asking if you trusted him enough to let go..

How naive you'd been, thinking you could trust Rafe Cameron with something so intimate. The golden boy of the OBX, known for his volatile temper and reckless abandon. The type of man who treats both relationships and speed limits as mere suggestions.

And you'd fallen for those dark cerulean eyes and heated whispers like every other girl before you. Only difference was, you were now staring at the consequences of that trust, watching it turn into two pink lines that would complicate everything.

Your secret hookup.

The trust fund bad boy of the OBX. The same Rafe Cameron who's probably at some country club event right now, charming his way through a crowd of socialites, completely unaware that he's about to become a father.

You can already hear the whispers at the yacht club – the Camerons' golden boy and his latest pouge conquest.

As if sleeping with Rafe Cameron wasn't scandalous enough, now you're carrying the next heir to his family's empire.

"Have you seen Rafe?" you shout at Topper over the pulsing bass of The Wreck's speakers. Your hand instinctively rests on your still-flat stomach – a new nervous habit you've developed since seeing those two pink lines.

Topper takes a swig of his whiskey, looking entirely too amused--and drunk, "Lost track of your boyfriend already?"

"He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah." He smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Just his favorite little Pogue to fuck behind closed doors, right? You know, he tells us everything in the locker room." He leaned closer, whiskey breath hot against your ear. "About how eager you are, how you beg for it. Though I gotta say, for someone from the cut, you've got quite the reputation among the trust fund crowd now."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. Of course Rafe would brag about all the girls he's had to his Kook friends. Of course you were just another story for their country club gossip.

"Go fuck yourself, Topper. Where's Rafe?"

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. We all know you've got a thing for rich boys. Though usually we don't keep Pogues around this long – Rafe must really like something about you." His eyes raked over you suggestively. "Or some things."

The way he says it makes your skin crawl – it's pure Rafe Cameron coming out of Topper's mouth. That same calculated charm, that practiced way of making someone feel simultaneously special and worthless.

You wonder how many hours he spent watching Rafe work his magic at bars, memorizing the exact tone needed to make "sweetheart" sound like an insult. Rich boys and their fucked-up everything.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Hey, I'm just messing with you. No need to get your discount panties in a twist." He gestures toward the bar with his glass.

"Last I saw him, he was chatting up some blonde by the bar." Topper continued, "Though, something tells me you've got more on your mind than just another quick fuck in the coat closet."

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" you snap at him, hands clenching into fists.

Your head whips around, scanning the crowded bar area, but there's no sign of Rafe's familiar frame among the sea of drunk socialites.

"He's not there," you mutter, frustration building in your chest.

"What's wrong? Don't have your Kook King on a leash?" Topper calls after you as you push past him toward the exit. "Better hurry – you know how fast Rafe moves on to the next thing!"

You storm out of The Wreck, the humid night air doing nothing to cool your rising anger.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Here you are, pregnant with his kid, and Rafe Cameron can't even stay in one place long enough to hear the news.

Slumping into your car, you grab your phone, fingers trembling as you pull up his contact. Three rings, voicemail. Again. Four rings, voicemail. Your frustration builds with each failed attempt.

hey, we need to talk

rafe, answer your fucking phone

where are you?

this is important

You watch the messages turn from "delivered" to "read" with no response. Of course he's seeing them. He's probably looking at his phone right now, some blonde draped over his shoulder, both of them laughing at your desperate attempts to reach him.

seriously rafe, this isn't about us. something happened

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You could just text it. Three simple words: I'm pregnant, asshole. But somehow, dropping that bomb over text feels wrong, even for whatever this is between you.

After the tenth unanswered call, you throw your phone onto the passenger seat, fighting back angry tears.

You should have known better than to expect anything different from Rafe Cameron, who treats Pogues like they're as disposable as his designer clothes.

To him, girls from the Cut are just temporary entertainment – something to play with until a more suitable option from his tax bracket comes along.

Your phone buzzes. For a moment, your heart leaps – but it's just another notification that he's read your messages.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you mutter, starting your car with more force than necessary. The engine roars to life, matching your mood.

You consider driving to his place – you know he'll end up there eventually, probably with tonight's blonde in tow. But the thought of waiting outside his house like some desperate ex makes bile rise in your throat.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it's a text:

busy rn. talk tomorrow?

A laugh escapes you, bitter and hollow. Busy. Of course he's busy. He's always busy when it doesn't involve getting into your pants. Your fingers fly across the keyboard before you can stop yourself:

hope she's worth it. btw, might want to start setting aside some trust fund money for child support

You hit send before you can think better of it, immediately regretting it. Your phone explodes with incoming calls – now he wants to talk. But you're already pulling out of the parking lot, vision blurry with unshed tears.

Let him panic for a while. Let him feel a fraction of the anxiety that's been eating at you since you saw those two pink lines.

Besides, if he can't be bothered to give you five minutes when you need him, he can wait until tomorrow to hear how he managed to knock up his favorite Pogue.

You wake up to the sound of coffee brewing – which is impossible because you live alone and definitely didn't set the timer last night. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you freeze in the doorway.

There's Rafe Cameron, looking unfairly good for someone who should be hungover, sitting on your beaten-up futon. His expensive clothes are a stark contrast to your shabby apartment furniture, but somehow he looks like he belongs there.

Between his fingers, he's holding the pregnancy test you'd forgotten to hide in your emotional spiral last night.

"Breaking and entering now?" Your voice comes out shakier than you'd like. "That's low, even for you."

He doesn't look up from the test, but you catch the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "It's not breaking in when I have a key." He finally meets your eyes, holding up the small silver key you'd given him three months ago after that night he'd brought you soup when you were sick. "You know, the one you said was 'just for emergencies'?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. This thing between you had stopped being just hookups somewhere between the late-night conversations and the drawer of his clothes in your dresser. Between him knowing how you take your coffee and you knowing which side of the bed he prefers.

"That's not—" you start, but he cuts you off.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to text it and disappear like you did last night?"

"Oh, like how you disappeared with that blonde? Or should we talk about how you disappear every time after you're done with me, just to go brag to Topper about your latest fuck?"

His face darkens. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Rafe. Your locker room talk is apparently quite entertaining. 'Eager.' 'Begging for it.' Ring any bells?" You wrap your arms around yourself, hating how your voice shakes. "Tell me, do all your Kook friends know how I sound in bed, or is that a special story just for Topper?"

"That's not—"

"Not what? Not what you meant? Not what happened? Because Topper seemed pretty clear about exactly what kind of reputation I have among your trust fund crowd now."

"You really think that's what this is?" He gestures between you. "That I could think of you as just another hookup?"

"Isn't it? I mean, god forbid the Kook King actually care about the Pogue he's fucking—"

"Jesus Christ," he runs his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. "If this was just about sex, would I have a key? Would I know your coffee order or—"

"You can't use that as some kind of proof you care! Having a key doesn't mean shit when you're out there treating me like your dirty little secret!"

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with months of unspoken hurt. When Rafe finally speaks, his voice is low, controlled: "Is it mine?"

The question hits you like a slap. "Are you seriously—"

"Just answer the question." His eyes are intense, searching yours. "Is it mine?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. He already knows the answer – can read it in the way you can't quite meet his eyes, in how your hand unconsciously drifts to your stomach.

That night without protection wasn't your first together, but it was the first time he'd looked at you like you were something more than just a good time.

Like maybe you could be everything. Now that look is back, mixed with something like fear as the reality of what you're not saying sinks in.

"Those tests—" he starts pacing, running his hands through his hair. "They're not always accurate, you know? Maybe you should take another one. Or three. Fuck, how do you even know for sure?" His voice takes on a desperate edge. "There are… options. I know a clinic in Chapel Hill. Discrete. I could make some calls—"

"You know what?" Your voice comes out quiet, defeated. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe this is exactly what I need to finally stop pretending this—" you gesture between you, "—could ever be anything real."

"I'm just saying we need to think about this logically—"

"No," you snap, your voice rising until it bounces off the walls of your tiny apartment. "You're trying to make this disappear, just like everything else that threatens your perfect Figure Eight lifestyle!"

You watch something crack in his expression, that carefully maintained Kook King facade finally showing a glimpse of real emotion. His hand reaches for you, then drops. "Don't—"

"I think you should go." You turn away, unable to look at him anymore. "Use that key one last time to lock up behind you."

You don't need to see his face to know he's struggling with what to say. The perfect Rafe Cameron, for once at a loss for words. It would be funny if it wasn't breaking your heart.

You don't turn around to watch him leave, but you hear the way he hesitates at the door. The silence stretches, filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say. Finally, the door clicks shut, and you're alone again.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, and you let out a bitter laugh. You can do this alone.

You'll move out of the OBX, maybe up to Wilmington where no one knows your name or that you're carrying a Cameron heir. You'll work extra shifts at the restaurant, save every penny.

Your kid won't need trust fund money or a father who treats relationships like they're disposable. Your child won't grow up feeling like some dirty secret.

Somewhere across town, Topper's probably already hearing about how the Pogue girl tried to trap Rafe Cameron with a baby. You can almost hear the yacht club whispers starting. But let them talk – you've survived worse than country club gossip.

(What no one would ever know: how your hands shook as you slid his key under his door later that night, or how he sat in his car outside your apartment for hours, staring at a small velvet box he'd been carrying in his pocket since before you ever said the word "pregnant."

Some love stories aren't meant to have happy endings, and some babies are meant to have just one parent who actually wants them.)

a/n -- thanks for reading, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore @madzig @thatdesigirl17 @drewstarkeysrightarm @seqhyvnz @romantasyreader2024 @luizaelias @rafe-cameronswife @emmavzlsblog @aileenunfiltered @swe3theart-succubus @511rkive @morrrrphin @xcinnamonmalfoyx @obxrafeandjj @rafegf-real @theeternaloptimistt

[xo100]

Hi! Could I ask Lando with pregnant reader. Like maybe her getting dizzy bc of all the paparazzis and fans surrounding. Maybe angsty. Dunno if you'll like the idea, but I honestly love ur work soo much

Our little miracle - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1244

*:･ﾟ A/N: first of all I want to say sorry for not being so active lately! I’ve been busy with school and work, I didn’t had any time to write! Second I want to say thank you so much anon! I hope you like this story too! If not let me known!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The late morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming the bedroom and casting soft golden streaks on the walls. The gentle hum of the city outside was barely audible over the rhythmic sound of Lando’s breathing beside you. His arm was slung lazily over your waist, his warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting blanket.

You blinked sleepily, turning your head to look at him. His face was still soft with sleep, his hair a wild mess of curls that begged to be smoothed down. He looked so peaceful like this, so completely at ease, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Caught you staring,” he mumbled, his voice raspy as his lips curled into a sleepy grin.

“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.

“Sure,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You’ve been staring at me every morning for the past five years. It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Good morning, Lando.”

“Morning,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were warm and bright, like pools of melted chocolate, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you. “Guess what day it is?”

You blinked, still half-asleep. “Uh… Saturday?”

“Baby shopping day,” he announced, his grin widening.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You’re more excited about this than I am.”

“Of course I am!” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “We’re picking out stuff for our baby. This is a big deal.”

It was a big deal. After months of trying—months of hope and heartbreak—you were finally here. Fourteen weeks pregnant, your little miracle growing inside you. It still didn’t feel real sometimes, like you were dreaming and could wake up at any moment.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you said softly, your hand resting on your small but growing bump.

“It’s happening,” Lando said, covering your hand with his. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “And I can’t wait to spoil both of you today.”

---

The car ride into the city was filled with laughter and teasing. Lando, as usual, couldn’t resist cracking jokes, trying to lighten the nerves you hadn’t even realized you were feeling.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “What if we name the baby after a car? Like… Ferrari Norris. Or McLaren Norris. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not. Our child is not going to be named after a car brand.”

“Fine,” he said, pretending to pout. “But if they grow up to be a racer, I’m taking full credit for the inspiration.”

The boutique Lando had chosen was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, its window displays filled with pastel-colored baby clothes and wooden toys. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the soft scent of lavender and the faint sound of a lullaby playing over the speakers.

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the rows of tiny clothes and baby accessories. “This is it,” he said, grabbing your hand. “This is where we find all the cool stuff.”

You spent the next hour wandering the store, debating over cribs and strollers, laughing as Lando tried to convince you that the baby absolutely needed a mini Formula 1 onesie.

“Come on,” he said, holding it up with a grin. “How cute would they look in this?”

“They’d look adorable,” you admitted, “but they’ll probably outgrow it in a month.”

“Worth it,” he said, tossing it into the shopping basket.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Seeing him like this—so excited, so ready to dive headfirst into parenthood—made your heart swell with love.

---

By the time you left the store, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the streets were bustling with activity. Lando carried the shopping bags in one hand, his other arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

You didn’t notice the paparazzi at first.

It started with a few flashes, the sudden brightness making you blink. Then came the voices—shouting questions and calling Lando’s name.

“Lando! Over here!” “How’s the season going?” “Is it true you’re expecting?”

The crowd seemed to grow out of nowhere, fans and photographers swarming around you. The noise was overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks that made your head spin.

“Lando,” you said softly, gripping his arm.

He turned to you immediately, his eyes scanning your face. “Hey, are you okay?”

You tried to nod, but the dizziness was already setting in. The flashes, the shouting, the crush of bodies—it was too much.

“I don’t feel…” Your voice trailed off as your vision blurred.

Lando didn’t hesitate. Dropping the shopping bags, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “Alright, that’s enough!” he snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. “Back off! She’s pregnant. Give her some space!”

The crowd faltered, the realization rippling through them. But Lando didn’t wait for them to comply. He guided you away from the chaos, his body shielding yours as he led you down a quieter side street.

“Breathe, love,” he said softly, stopping to face you. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “In and out. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, focusing on his voice, his touch. The dizziness slowly faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt creeping in. “I ruined our day.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Lando said, his tone gentle but firm. “You and the baby come first. Always.”

You managed a weak smile. “Even over baby sneakers?”

“Even over baby sneakers,” he said, grinning. “But just barely.”

---

Back at home, the chaos of the day felt like a distant memory. Lando had insisted on ordering takeout, claiming that you deserved to be spoiled after the ordeal.

As you sat on the couch, surrounded by the shopping bags you’d managed to bring home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Lando was in the kitchen, humming softly as he poured you a glass of water.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you before sitting down beside you. His hand immediately found its way to your stomach, resting there gently.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m okay,” you said, covering his hand with yours. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he said quietly, his voice filled with wonder.

“Me too,” you whispered, leaning into him.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of the shopping bags.

“You know,” Lando said after a moment, “I meant what I said earlier. You and the baby come first. Always.”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “I know,” you said. “And I love you for it.”

“I love you too,” he said, his eyes shining with emotion. “More than anything.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, you realized that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Lando would face them together.

And that was all that mattered.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[henrycangelbaby]

Guys all I can think about rn is how baby daddy shaped Simon Riley is.

This is nsfw ya girl is horny oops

Like you have multiple kids with him but you’re still not together omg

He’s not an absent dad by any means but obviously he’s away a lot and doesn’t always have his priorities straight

He literally cannot resist putting a baby in you whenever he gets the chance but he won’t marry you for some unknown reason

Like you have carried multiple of his massive always overdue children and he still won’t put a ring on it

And like this doesn’t stop him from all but claiming you

For heavens sake you have children together but that’s still not enough for him

Like he will be scaring off any guys that you go on dates with

Every time you drop the kids off to him frustrated he can’t help but ask why hiding a smirk when he hears about the last guy that ghosted you

Don’t even get me started on the ways he goes about scaring off these men

There’s definitely some threats from unknown numbers

He’s also not dating and doesn’t sleep with other women

His dick is revered only for you

He’s actually insatiable for you though

Like every time he sees you caring for one of his kids he all but looses it

You’re not quite sure how you keep ending up in his bed but every time he is promising to get you pregnant again

And I imagine that is the final push that he needs to make you his

Like one day after the kids are fast asleep you rock up at his house wanting to talk

He is taken aback when you look up at him with shiny eyes and admit that he got you pregnant

It’s so over for him

He can’t bear the thought of you having another pregnancy not by his side 24/7

Somehow you’re now living together

The kids love the new changes and are very happy considering their family is now back together

And like he needs you bad

the whole pregnancy he us basically begging you to let him dick you down all day

When he sees you in those stupid little short shorts and tight tank top he’s done

Your rather big belly poking out the bottom of the right fabric

It’s over

Despite not marrying you while you had his first to kids he suddenly has the urge to get down on one knee

He proposes to you the next day apologising over and over for not being there for you enough

Later that night he fucks you promising to keep you pregnant and filled with him for as long as he can

Gonna go take myself to horny jail now 🤪🤪🤪

[luludeluluramblings]

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Three

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry for the delay. My motivation fled for a bit and exhaustion hit me hard right before thanksgiving. I had to buckle down and just finish this.

A/N: I really wanna answer all my ask, there’s some things in there that y’all have sent me that I want to do for an AU of this. There’s just so many ideas I wanna try.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Warnings: Yandere themes, possible non-con (I only say possible, because Reader was drunk when consenting), fem!reader, possible violence towards Jason, my own made up headcanons.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

When you told Stephanie you were going to find out the gender of your little bean, you weren’t exactly surprised she wanted to have a gender reveal party. Though you did talk her out of the party aspect. You loved your friends, but you hadn’t told them about your pregnancy. Mostly because you knew they’d either accidentally spill the beans about said bean to someone they shouldn’t or they’d freak out and pester you about the unknown father.

It’s a shame you can only faintly remember dark hair, loving touches, and the heat from that night. You’d like to at least thank the man for giving you such gift. Even if said gift was making you throw up nearly every morning, constantly tired, and craving the oddest things with heartburn to follow.

Overall, things were going.

That was it. Things where just going. You were still looking for an apartment, but you were getting sidetracked a bit by nurseries. You knew you would love your child regardless of what they are or who they are. But, the little swan lake nursery was precious and the air plane nursery was darling. Both made you cry and change your mind on apartments at least six times. Hormones did not help with house hunting.

But, the day came. You went to your ultrasound and had them put the gender in an envelop to give to Stephanie for her to plan your day. You had to fight yourself from peaking at the paper, but, still, you waited the three extra days until you would find out the big reveal.

Unfortunately, Jason fucking ruined it.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason had been poking around the fridge. It was common for him to dig around the manor for food when he was there. Bruce was rich and groceries were expensive. (If he was looking for some of the princess’s cooking? That was his business.) But, he spotted something that stood out from the usual expensive organic fruits and vegetables and occasional meat.

“Hey, Alfred. Why is there a small cake in the fridge?" He could tell from the packaging it was from some fancy bakery. Probably one on the shiny posh side of Gotham. Which meant it would either taste like overpriced shit or absolutely delectable.

"That would be the young Miss's. I believe Miss Brown purchased it as a surprise." Alfred had replied from where he was currently taking inventory of the pantry. Maintaining a well supplied stock of the after mission snacks to proper management after all. Still, he did eye Jason from where he stood with his note pad. Knowing that Jason had a slight habit of causing trouble.

"Those two have been really close lately." Jason muttered suspiciously, mentally debating on if the cake was worth it or not with Alfred watching him.

"Dick is right. You really are starting to sound like Bruce." Duke and Cassandra had been sitting at the counter. Duke, having just gotten off patrol, had been in the kitchen to refill his water. While Cass had been munching on some snacks that she had hidden from the rest of them.

"Can it, light bulb." Came Jason's snarky voice as he silently popped the lid on the much to fancy cake open and pulled it out of the fridge. Alfred to far across the kitchen to stop him. "You know… This is a pretty big cake…"

"Jason, no." Even Duke knew it was a bad idea. If you had just gotten bold enough to through tubberware at Jason, God only knew what you might do if he ate a gift you'd been given. Plus, Steph would be on everyone’s ass for it. She was stingy with her money and everyone could tell she splurged for that cake.

"I would advise against that, Master Jason. Miss Brown already informed the young Miss of the cake and I believe that they wanted to have the first slices when they got back from their outing." Alfred knew you would happily share the cake, but, while he wanted to defend your sugary gift, he knew that that cake had a secret and for once Alfred couldn't restrain himself from wanting to be the first to discover it.

That drew both Cassandra and Duke's attentions away from the crime that was about to be committed. Both curious. The two of you really had gotten close. Cass only slightly tilted her head in curiosity while Duke had been the one to speak.

"Oh, they went out?"

"For pedicures, I was told. They are due to arrive back here shortly. "

"Well, if you wait, they might- Jason! Seriously?!" Duke had looked back to watch Jason slice into the cake with a spare butter-knife. Thankfully with enough finesse to not completely ruin your cake.

"What? The princess can share her damn cake-" He defends himself, about to grab a fork when he notices Cass looking directly at Alfred. "Why are you looking at Alfred like that?"

When she says nothing, Duke and Jason look at the tearful expression of Alfred's face. "Alfie, what's wrong?"

It takes a moment for them to realize that those aren't tears of anger or sadness as Alfred tries to compose himself. It takes Duke a few seconds longer to look at the slice of cake to connect the dots with a swiftness that would put Tim's title as second greatest detective to shame.

However, the only words that stumble out of his mouth in his shock are, "Jason, that cake is blue."

"Yeah, I know. Which is weird, but it taste great. Steph picked something really fancy for princess’s taste." Jason says finally taking a bite. It was good, Steph picked a good bakery. Not as good as Princess's homemade goods, but good enough.

"NO! Jason, why would a cake be blue?" The realization of what exactly Jason just ruined filled Duke with panic. This was going to be so much worse than the tubberware if he was right. So much worse.

Even Cass was a bit confused about the massive deal with the cake. She was more interested in the joy she was reading off of Alfred since that cake had been cut. She'd never seen the man so giddy, despite the only sign of any change in him was the misty look in his eyes.

"I don't know- Oh, great. The princess has returned." The sound of excited footsteps were heard heading towards the kitchen while Duke looked at Jason with anxiousness. Even Alfred seemed to brace himself.

As soon as you and Stephanie walked in the smiles dropped from your faces.

"Jason…. Tell me you didn't…" Stephanie murmured as she glared as Jason. Inwardly, she was excited. She had guessed correctly and won her own personal bet with herself. But, she comfortingly put a hand on your arm as you stared at the blue cake you didn’t get to cut.

Just from your expression, Duke can tell he might have been right and starts looking at Jason with an expression that screams, ‘Plead for mercy, you idiot.’

Alfred, thankfully, had enough sense to come out of his joy the moment he watches you walk up to the counter and look down at the cake with a despondent expression. His words comforting as he tries to ease the budding tension. “I'm so sorry, young miss. But, on the bright side-"

"Oh, come on, princess. You and Steph weren’t going to be able eat it all. You can afford to share. Besides, you’ve been looking a little pudgy lately anyway. Really need to stop acting like you’re eating for two."

Everyone looks directly at Jason in horror at what he just said. Seeing the spark of rage in your eyes makes Alfred take a step back in caution and Cassandra warns an aghast Duke of what she sees about to go down.

“Duke, duck.”

“Where?” He says in terrified confusion before suddenly your cake is slammed directly into Jason’s face with your hands coated in frosting.

"OH SHIT!”

"MISS!"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Jason stumbles back from the velocity of the cake to his face while he tries to wipe the buttercream from his eyes as you start berating him. Throwing everything in reaching distance at him. The bowl of fruit on the counter, the snacks Cass had been eating, even a pot from the stove.

"You ruined it! You ruined it! Alfred, where's the cast iron? I'm about to knock the dumbass outta him.” You start looking for something heavy, moving to dig through the cabinets with sugary fingers that are shaking with anger.

“About time someone did…” Stephanie mutters while she hides behind the counter to hide from the onslaught.

Before you can complete your search, Jason reveals just how well he preforms under pressure. Realizing a little too late what he might have just right when your hands find the cast iron skillet and your taking a swing at him.

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry!" He barely dodged the hit with the sudden click of the information settling into his brain.

"You about to be sorry! This is the last straw, asshole. You fuckin' ruined it." You go to take another swing at him, nearly slipping in some frosting.

Jason’s eyes go wide before he risk a skillet to the face to catch you.

"You're right! I- Put that down, you're going to hurt yourself." He struggles to pull the pan from your sticky grip, not wanting to hurt you. This isn’t something he imagined having to use all his skills and talents for, but he thanks fuck he has them.

"Don't you tell me what to fuckin' do." You snarl while trying to hit him in the throat with your fist, causing him to almost let you slip.

"Jason!" Duke shouts out, knowing how bad it’ll be if you fall.

Jason tightens his grasp on you to the point your practically immobile, trying to calm you down with apologies and a panicked tone.

"Look, I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

"That doesn't excuse you acting like a dick." You hiss, causing him to go silent as he tries to figure out how to fix this situation.

"You're right. It doesn't. But…" he trails off, leading to an awkward moment of silence

"Dude, you suck at this." Duke says before popping his head over the counter now that the cake and kitchen utensils have ceased to be airborne. Stephanie popping up next to him to give Jason an icy glare of her own while Cass stares at her ruined snacks. Alfred sighing as he runs the bridge of his nose from the similarities between old memories and the current scenario in the kitchen.

"Shut up, twinkle twinkle." He snarls before looking down a very pissed and most likely very pregnant you with a wince. "I… I know I'm a jackass."

"Astute observation, Master Jason." Alfred mutters while he behind to search for some cleaning supplies for the buttercream incident.

"Damn, Alfred's roasting you." Duke quickly shuts up when Jason gives him a lethal glare despite your futile attempts a wiggling out of his grasp. "Shutting up now."

Eventually you stop struggling, heaving in exhaustion and pitifully fighting back tears at your ruined gender reveal.

"I… Shouldn't be acting like a such an asshole. To you, specifically. You don't deserve that and I'm sorry." Jason tries as soon as he sees your lower lip start to wobble. He knows he’s prickly, but this is a new low that he’s not proud of.

"Now, you wanna apologize?" You’re honestly too emotional to deal with this. But, it’s the fact that he’s actually trying to give a meaningful apology when hardly anyone else does that makes you listen. Even if you’re mentally tearing him to shreds with your teary eyes.

"Yes. Now, I want to apologize." He sighs, putting you down. It’s quite a sit. Him not only apologizing, but him also doing it covered in white frosting and blue cake crumbs. "I'm… I'm not going to give you a bunch of excuses. I'm a jerk. But, I'm not heartless. I took this too far."

"You took it too far when you ate my frickin' fried cornbread." Comes your deadpan tone as you cross your arms. The fabric of your hoodie moving slightly to reveal the faintest of baby bumps.

"You're still mad about- You know what, fair enough. Don't eat the pregnant chick's food. Lesson learned." He starts to say exasperatedly before changing course at your stare and realizing he needed to suck it up.

“But, in my defense, it was really good.” He pipes off quickly, as an appeasing compliment.

Judging from the way your eyes further narrow and the reigning silence, he can tell he missed the mark.

Instead he tries to change course.

"Listen, I know this won't make up for it, but… I did see some vintage baby stuff in the attic when I snooped up there once."

"Oh, you found Master Bruce's old thing." Alfred exclaims with slightly raised brows. Coming back with Clorox wipes and all sorts of other supplies for the mess you had made. (He blames Jason, however. Don’t fret, dear one.)

"Wait, pause. Did you say those were Bruce's old baby clothes?"

"Yes, Master Jason.”

“I thought those were little girl’s baby dress. They looked like something a goth Victorian child mixed with a pilgrim would wear."

“I assure you they are Master Bruce’s.”

Everyone suddenly has a collective thought and a mighty need. Cake forgotten momentarily.

"Alfred, are there pictures of him in those clothes?" You ask with barely contained mischief, all anger and sadness gone as delight fills you. Mood swings could be such a blessing and a curse.

“Why, I do believe so.” There was a hint of knowing in Alfred's tone. One that also was finding delight in the idea he knew was passing through everyone's minds.

Immediately, and with renewed vigor, your head whips to Jason.

"Help me find the pictures and get me some Jokerized fries-."

"And, throw in a foot massage." Stephanie adds before you can finish. The suggestion causing Jason's eyes to widen while Duke shudders.

"What?!"

“Eww.”

"I kinda don't want him touching my feet. Too weird." You say. Even if they do ache often your not sure you really want the guy who had made your life hell before touching you so much. Even if he was apologetic.

“Oh, thank god.” He mutters under his breath before Stephanie speaks up again.

"Then let me have one. I bought the cake and I was looking forward to it. I had to fight the temptation not to spoil the surprise."

"I feel like that was a pun." Duke mutters.

"It wasn't."

A lighter tone settles over the kitchen as Alfred starts to clean. You tried to help, feeling embarrassment at having made such a mess. But, everyone else had stepped in to pick up the slack on account for your condition as Duke called it.

"Did you ever figure it out, Cass?" You asked curiously as you sat at the counter. A bit surprised that she hadn't disappeared as soon as the whole things had started. You both had always been cordial with each other. However, you knew she preferred to be alone at times. Hence, your lack of interaction. You had assumed she would have fled by now.

"Thought you had a stomach bug. Not a baby. This is better." Comes her short response. There's a subtle hint of wonder on her face. She's gotten better at sharing her feelings with other's so it's nice to see such an expression.

"Am I the only one terrified of how calm she is after she just threw an entire cake at Jason and was about to cast iron him?" Duke says while he finishes wiping the frosting from the skillet you had wielded earlier. The question causes Alfred to chuckle when you give Duke a narrowed look yourself.

"I remember Miss Martha throwing a chair at Master Thomas when she was pregnant with Master Bruce, so this, I dare say, is quite tame."

That comment makes more than a few eyebrows to raise and Jason to let out a whistle, while also realizing that is could've been worse for him in the long run.

"Why'd she do that?"

"Bruce decided to grace the world with his presence in the middle of the night."

"Ha!"

"I always knew he had been more in the dark."

Snickers could be heard before Alfred continued to explain. It was rare he got to share such stories.

"And, Thomas made the foolish mistake of asking her if she could hold Bruce in until a more reasonable hour."

"Alfred, he was a doctor." Stephanie points out.

"In his defense. Neither had slept for that entire week from the anticipation of Master Bruce’s arrival. But, really should have kept quiet on the matter. We would still have that lovely cherry wood chair if he had."

A round of laughter could be heard. You had laughed so hard that there were tears in your eyes as you giggled your way up to the attic.

Things had been ruined, but things had gotten better. If only they could stay better.

Down in the Batcave, Tim had gotten a message in between a few of the cases he was currently working on.

"Jon and I will stop by tomorrow, my dude." He read while taking a sip of this third energy drink for that afternoon. He only nodded in acknowledgment before going back to his work.

Elsewhere, on the Kent family farm, Conner grinned excitedly at his phone before tucking it away and stretching. He'd be seeing his favorite person tomorrow. Hopefully when they saw him they'd remember the best night of their life. It was definitely his.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: As funny it would be to have Conner just be a sweet goof, I want him to be yandere for this. I struggled to include that last part to show it, but hopefully it works.

A/N: Also, this is the calm before the storm. I kinda wanna try to make it angsty next chapter. And, not gonna lie, it might be brutal. But, I wanna challenge myself so when I make an AU I can do a good job on it.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! I had been planning on a girl for Reader, so I was a bit surprised. Might save that for the AU. Time to name pick, and if y’all want y’all can suggest nurseries. Can’t guarantee we’ll do polls for them, but it’ll still be fun.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist

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[rynbutt]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!