Bombshell reader and Spencer finding out she’s pregnant
fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for pregnancy / reader wants to be pregnant
“This is such a peculiar feeling.”
Spencer’s ready for you physically before his mind has caught up, his hand reaching out for you despite his eyes steadfast on the book he has held to his knee. Legs crossed, relaxing in the supple leather of one of his armchairs, Spencer almost forgot you were here. “What?” he asks.
“What did I say, or what’s peculiar?”
“What’s peculiar?” he asks, letting the book fall down the side of his thigh.
You shuffle closer to his legs, looking down at your clasped hands. “I feel really weird. For a few days. A bit sick, I think.”
He’s not expecting you to say that; it’s been such a quiet evening, and you haven’t mentioned being ill once yet, despite having slept here and spent the day here in your soft pyjamas. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
Because the thing is, Spencer loves you more than he’s ever loved anybody. It’s immediately unnerving for him to hear you aren’t well, because he doesn't want you to have a single shred of strife in your life, not even a papercut. He pulls you closer and closer, looking up into your face, begging to know what’s wrong and unashamed or caring so much. “You’re worrying me,” he prods when you don’t answer.
“Sorry, I’m just…” You lean forward gently. Spencer takes your weight to his side, his cheek to your chest. You face down, wrapping an arm behind his shoulder. “Just have a funny feeling,” you whisper.
“What kind of feeling?” he asks. Spencer could tell you a hundred different facts on funny feelings, gut feelings, and intuition, but that’s not strictly helpful right now. Then again, he knows he’s loved, and so he says the most burning one aloud before he forgets, “Intuition is based on the collating of facts by your brain to predict future events. It’s usually unconscious.”
You touch his hair mindlessly. “Is it usually right?”
“I think that’s up to opinion. Why, angel?” he asks, letting his voice slip into a deeper, settled rasp. He hopes it says what he’s trying to prove to you every single day, that he will take care of you for as long as you’ll let him. “What are you thinking is wrong?”
“I don’t know if it’s wrong…”
He’s so confused. “You can tell me anything,” he assures you, pulling at your hands. There’s room in the armchair for you so long as you’re okay with putting your legs over his, and you are, curling up next to him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
“I know, Spencer. Just let me think about it for a minute.”
“Okay.” He takes your hand once again. For a few minutes he waits in the quiet, rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, trying hard not to look at you lest you feel pressured to talk.
“Okay,” you say quietly, “I have a few things in that bag I brought over for emergencies, you know? In the bathroom. And I have a pregnancy test in there, so I’m going to take it. How do you… how would you feel about that?”
“I’d feel whatever you needed me to,” he says instinctively, the word pregnancy on a flashing look in his mind’s eye. “You think you might be pregnant?”
“Before I take it, before, is that a bad thing if I am?”
He’s shocked to see you acting this way, so far from your regularly scheduled programming. Spencer always assumed that if you ever did become pregnant, he’d learn about it like everybody else. You’d tell him with a big smile or a proud kiss and go about your day. You know what you're worth, and to be pregnant is your decision, your body.
“Of course not,” he says, frowning.
“Are you sure?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because it’s something that would affect both of us?”
“No, of course, of course, angel, I just mean, why would it ever be a bad thing?” He puts his hand on your neck. “Unless you think it is.”
“This isn’t something I get to just decide by myself, this decision. I can’t make it alone,” you say.
“Yes you can.” He cups your neck. “But I’d love to make it with you.”
You smile. He can tell you’re going to share your thoughts with him before you do, your eyes clearing with worry for now, and instead shining with your usual, breath-stealing light. “I hope I am,” you say.
He hadn’t known he’d feel this way until right this second. “I hope you are too.”
Your giggle sounds ever so slightly teary and hug him. You kiss his neck, and then you spring out of his lap to drag him with you to the bathroom. It’s a straightforward process but the waiting is agony, you and him sitting on the counter by the sink basin, hands squeezing at each other's fingers with the test baking on his thigh.
“This is crazy,” you murmur. “We were having a normal day.”
“Normal to amazing would be good,” he says.
“What are we gonna do?”
“Well, I’ll have to make some more money.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he says with a laugh. “Do you know how expensive children are?”
“How did your mom afford you and your three PhDs?”
“I got most of that stuff for free,” he says, “on account of being smart for my age.”
You laugh softly. “That’s one way to say it.”
Spencer leans down to kiss your shoulder. “We’ll have to move in together. Like, forever.”
“Oh no.” You prop your head on his. “I basically live here anyways. All the time.”
We’ll have to get married, Spencer thinks, but that’s not necessarily true, and then thinks it should probably be a surprise, before he says, “And I’ll have to ask you to marry me.”
“Not just because I’m–”
“No, not just because you’re pregnant,” he says, though neither of you know yet if that’s true. “Never.”
“That would be admirable.”
He doesn’t know about that, but he knows one thing. “I love you. Really. More than anything.”
“Don’t worry, Spencer. I love you too.”
“Would that be something you wanted?” he asks quietly.
“I’ll say yes whenever you want to ask me,” you say, equally as quiet. “I would’ve said yes five years ago.” You weren’t together five years ago, and he believes it anyways.
Spencer kisses up your cheek and pulls you into his side with a last press of his lips to your temple. The test on his thigh hasn’t changed. It’s a digital one, so you’ll know for sure just as soon as it’s ready. He feels like he can’t breathe right, waiting, waiting, wishing.
“I’m with you no matter what,” he says under his breath.
“I know.” You turn your lips into his cheek, breath fanning his skin. “You know pregnancy makes a woman more beautiful, right?”
“I don’t see how that could possibly happen to you, but I’m excited nonetheless.”
You laugh and smile into his cheek, kissing the slight hollow of it tenderly.
On your thigh, the test blinks to Pregnant.
You don’t notice, too busy kissing him still, your smile hard to ignore as you mumble, “If I’m pregnant, and we’re gonna do all those things you said before, I promise I’ll make you happy, Spence. I’m gonna be good to you. We’re going to be so, so happy, we’re gonna have a house with a garden and a hundred types of flowers, and we’ll keep bees at the end of it, and we’ll have two libraries for all your books, three if you want it, and–”
“I’ll make you happy,” he echoes, “I promise. I’m gonna take care of everything.”
“–the nursery…” You stop kissing him, hearing what it is he hasn’t managed to say in the wavering tone of his voice. You look down as he passes you the test.
“No matter what you want,” he swears.
Your happy tears are plentiful and not what he’s expecting. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry with your legs hanging off of the counter, the test digging into his shoulder, drawing a line over his skin as you check it to be sure and prompt another round of tears. They aren’t loud tears. Your sniffles are half giggle.
“We never do things in the right order,” you say, blissfully happy.
“I don’t think there’s a wrong one.” His turn now to press kisses to your tacky cheek.
“We used to hold hands under the round table.” You shudder with tears.
Lovelorn and unsure, not even dating, your fingers sewn together under the conference table as someone spoke you through the case of the day. His heart in his throat, and your thumb rubbing circles so slowly into his skin his wrist would ache for hours afterwards remembering. You and Spencer have always done things in your own order, and he’d never say wrong.
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Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1
It all makes sense.
When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.
Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”
A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking.
Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.
It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.
“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."
Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.
“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”
The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.
He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”
Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.”
Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”
“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”
There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away.
Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.
“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again.
This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.
Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.
“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”
Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”
Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.
“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”
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cw. you ask lucifer to unbutton your dress but why has he also unclipped your bra? + afab!reader + awkward situations turned suggestive my beloved <33 !
you set your work bag down, turning your back to face lucifer.
“help me out of this please.”
lucifer’s head almost snaps right off his neck at your words. “h-huh?”
you sigh, looking back at him briefly. “this new dress you bought for me has an alarming amount of buttons—it’s still cute though so i had to wear it.” you point at your situation behind you, giving him a small pout. “help, please.”
lucifer clears his throat, waddling his way over to you. “o-of course!” that comes out a little lower than he would have liked—he hopes you haven’t noticed the burning red that’s grown on his cheeks because of your request.
“thanks luci.” you smile gratefully, standing still while he works on the buttons. you feel his warm presence behind you before gradually feeling the cool air of the room against your skin.
then you hear a clip.
you freeze. then lucifer lets out an embarrassed gasp. your bra hangs loosely against your chest and your back is on full, naked display.
“oh shit—fuck—! i’m sorry honey, i don’t know what i’m doing i thought-” lucifer trails off, staring at his hands with shame, throwing his face into them. his body burns in humiliation.
your shoulders shake, holding onto your knees for support as your heat shoots straight up to your cheeks. “l-luci-” you slap your hand to your mouth in hopes that it would contain your laughter but your infectious giggles continue to slip past your fingers.
lucifer is so utterly embarrassed. maybe, just maybe he had a little wet dream about you the other night and that it might’ve gotten to him when the tips of his fingers made contact with the buttons of your dress. he wants to crawl into a hole and just lay there until he decomposes (he wouldn’t but you get it). he can’t believe he just let himself do that! oh you probably think he’s so weird now…
standing right up to your full height, you raise your arms to embrace the poor blond, patting the crown of his head and caressing his back. “i-its okay dearest—pft—i swear-”
lucifer finds solace in your shoulder blade, cheeks practically hotter than hell itself. “i can still hear you laughing… it’s not funny…” he sulks and you can hear the pout he wears on his lips without even looking at him.
“aww…” you coo, taking his face in your palms to place a kiss on his forehead. he looks up at you with glassy eyes, hands wrapping around your wrists as he leans into your touch. a smile grows on his face as your fond stare travels across his adorable features. “so will you do the honours or will i have to take this dress off myself?”
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happy meals - l.n
Warnings: None
Pairing: Lando Norris x fen!reader
Faceclaim: nOnE
SMAU
@maxiemclaren i told u I find myself funny
y/n
liked by y/nfans, carmenmundt, Lando orris and 256,027 others…
captions: anyone who gets me happy meals is automatically my lover ❤️
user1: y/n pls I’ll buy the entire McDonald’s for you 🙏
-> user2: no, I’ll do it first!
user3: I hear you girl 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
user4: excuse my presence, but Lando in the likes?
-> user5: oooooo he’s plotting
landonorris: coca-cola is a sponsor of McLaren therefore you are advertising me
-> y/n: what in the Nando’s 👹👹
-> user6: they’re both menaces @/user4 I see it…
-> landonorris: stock market gonna break coz of u
❤️ by y/n
landonorris
liked by y/n, georgerussell63, martingarrix and 216,273 others…
caption: I’m the reason for the stock marker spike actually 😼
user7: THEYRE DEFO FOR Y/N
-> user8: omg I see it I’m actually freaking right now 🏃
georgerussell63: simp 🫵🫵
-> landonorris: we’ll observed, russell 🤝
y/n: with chicken nuggets? 🥹
-> landonorris: all 11 of them 😁
-> y/n: gosh I’m in love
user9: Y/N SAYING SHES IN LOVE AIUENRMRKEIJSJE MY WIFE
y/n
liked by landonorris, f1, martingarrix and 216,273 others…
caption: maccie maccie maccie love love love L L L ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
user10: WHOS ‘L L L’
-> user11: girl keep up! She’s like flirting w Lando online lmao
-> user12: he’s more into her than she’s into him haha
maxverstappen1: ur gonna get lando off his diet
-> y/n: his problem ❤️❤️❤️
-> landonorris: ur my problem
-> y/n: good 👍
landonorris
liked by y/n, y/nnews, mclaren and 329,262 others…
caption: how tf does she look so pretty…ordering maccies?
georgerussel63: took a while
-> landonorris: glad to call her mine
-> carmenmundt: she’s acc mine ☝️
-> y/n: @/landonorris yeah sorry…I’m taken
-> landonorris: 💔💔
maxverstappen1: I puked ❤️❤️
-> y/n: me when u steal someone else’s kids
-> maxverstappen1: DIFFERENT STORY
kimi.antonelli: so cute xx
-> y/n: thank u my dear son ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
-> landonorris: what?!
-> y/n: Kimi is our son
-> landonorris: I seem to have stumbled past that important detail
-> kimi.antonelli: mama y papa 💘💘💘💘
comments have been limited to close friends only.
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