#have some casual bombshells dropped on you

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part X

Chapter summary: Vengeance looks good on you.

tags: robogore, gore, violence, body horror, death, cannibalism/siphonism

word count: 6588

previous chapter is here, start is here, next is here.

fic below cut!

That was the last time she’d trust an Autobot. That was what Puncture told herself as she walked along the seabed, prize clenched in her right claw, servos of her left twitching in anticipation. Behind her, folded up like a cube puzzle, were the remains of the Autobot she’d dispatched.

For such a large opponent he’d been a shockingly easy fight. He was almost as big as she was, and after listening to him announce himself, she’d felt quite eager about engaging. An Autobot who came equipped with war weapons and wanted to fight honorably would have to be something worth investing her time in, she’d thought. 

She’d been right, in a way. He’d definitely been partially worth it. Their clash hadn’t bored her to tears like the others she’d slain. She’d ambushed him, gotten the first hit, and displaced his staff with a brutal swipe. He’d fired straight into her chest, but her armor had held, and what might have been a fatal shot once had only left a particularly irksome gouge instead. From there she’d tackled him over the bridge, using the body of the Seeker to knock him off his balance, and shoved him below the water. 

That had been a mistake–the staff had electrified the water. They’d both spasmed as the current ran through them, causing her to seize and him to squirm. 

It had been an uproar of foam and splashing. She’d seen him trembling on spasming knees.At the sound of his T-Cog activating she’d snarled.

Oh Pit no. You don’t escape me that easily. 

She’d lunged, wrapping her claws around the tail of his alt mode as he’d launched out of the spaceship window. Her weight had thrown him off balance, sent him immediately spiraling downwards. They’d crashed into the trees together, uprooting the cages and creating a rain of dead organics. 

She’d landed on her back and struggled to flip over for a moment, immediately chastising herself for her weakness. In The Pit the seconds she’d taken would have been enough to kill her. To be a proper gladiator, proud, strong, and undefeated, she couldn’t risk leaving herself vulnerable for even a second. 

But with her luck, the Autobot hadn’t taken advantage of that. He’d crashed nearby and staggered on one knee, gritting his dentae and threatening to keel over. Still, as she’d bared her claws and approached, he’d glared and pointed his blaster again, a panel on his shoulder opening to reveal missile launchers. 

Impressive, she’d thought. Something that could actually hurt her. But even as he’d prepared to launch them, it was apparent to her that he was in pain. She could take advantage of that. 

“You don’t win this,” she’d said, circling around him like a shark. Beneath her mask, venom broiled. “Surrender, Autobot, and I’ll make your death quick.” 

“I can’t,” he said back, keeping his blaster trained on her. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Monsters like you don’t belong on this planet.” 

“Is that so.” And her mask had vertically split, releasing a wave of venom as she buzzed out a roar. 

It had hit his eyes. He’d screamed and staggered back, blaster firing rapidly as he tried to wipe the stuff off. That had been her opening. 

And from there she’d pinned him beneath the water, dug her claws into his helm, and prepared to claim her trophy. 

That was when she’d paused. The Autobot below her was a cargo plane, and a large one at that. He was big enough to carry her and the Seeker. Under almost every other circumstance Puncture would have killed him and moved on with her day, but the circumstances she’d found herself in were special. 

Namely, she was alone, out of touch, and grounded on a planet she knew nothing of. And here, out of the ether, Primus had delivered her a mode of transportation that only put up a little bit of a fight. If she killed him, she’d have to manually transform and fly him, and she knew nothing of piloting. 

So instead of claiming her helm trophy, Puncture had decided she would take the entire Autobot. All it had taken was piercing her claws straight into his brain and demanding access to his navigation systems. And don’t even think about calling for help, or flying to an Autobot base. 

She’d pinched his brain between her claws, just for effect. 

On the way out she’d cast a final look at the ship that had imprisoned her for so long and flipped it off. Something had been moving in there, but it wasn’t her problem. A flightless Seeker had no place in the Decepticon cause. This was just natural selection at its finest.

It had all been going so well until he’d decided to crash himself into the ocean. The navigation systems she’d hacked told her the island they were heading to was important. Surely it had to have something she could use, like Energon, or a working space bridge. Before she could confirm what that was, though, the Autobot had offed himself, so for all she knew he’d marked this place falsely and she was walking into a dead zone. 

She supposed that was what she got for trusting an Autobot. Self-sacrificing fools, the lot of them. 

At least she’d made it out with a trophy. His helm leaked pink Energon into the blue ocean water around her, leaving a trail behind her as she marched for the island they’d been flying to. There were no guarantees this place was worth anything, unfortunately, but she’d take dry land as opposed to the vast ocean. 

An orange glare was cast over the surface of the ocean water as she approached it. Before her helm even breached, she could guess as to why. Breaking the surface of the water, her suspicions were promptly confirmed: the island before her was a pyro of flame and stone. 

It was a small thing, only a few miles at max. Beginning with a beach surrounded by jagged boulders, the land quickly turned into a sheer rock face, upon the top of which grew dozens of green organics. They were all blackened crisps, shedding their ash to the pale beach below and turning it gray with soot. 

And upon that beach there was an Autobot. As Puncture breached the water fully, trophy clutched in her right claw, her systems performed a quick scan over the femme awaiting her. She was a standard issue female Autobot, gray and black in color (whether that was from soot or not she could only guess). In one hand she held a military rifle, the kind designed to fire heavy bolts that would pierce through any armor class. 

Good. An actual weapon that would sting. Pain was the best teacher, after all, and once she’d ripped it from the Autobot’s corpse, she could make use of it herself. 

There was only one off thing about the Autobot: she had no Autobrand displayed anywhere on her body. Odd.

The Autobot suddenly trained her rifle and Puncture paused in her step. Ocean waves licked at her cadulens. As the wind picked up, it brought a hot and dry gust with it, dotting the water around her with soot. 

“Hell–”

“Gimme yer name,” the Autobot said, her voice low and dangerous. Her servo was tight around the rifle’s trigger, barrel pointed for Puncture’s helm. “I wanna know who took my best friend from me.”

Puncture scoffed, raising the helm in her claws. “Your best friend? This honorable fool was a bot you considered an equal?” She laughed. “Well don’t just stand there!” 

And with a flick of her wrist she sent his helm flying through the air to embed itself on the beach. 

“Fetch.”

The Autobot’s optics widened with rage, rifle shaking in her hands. But she didn’t fire. Not yet. 

“Tell. Me. Your. Name.” She growled. “Or I’ll rip it from the fried remains of your brain.”

“Hm! Puncture. I am Puncture of The Pit.” She leaned forward for emphasis, spreading her claws. “I am of the highest standing in my home and have sent far stronger than you to the Afterspark, Autobot. Not only were they bigger…” she took a step, “and more equipped…” and another, “and fitted with powers to bail them out of what fights they couldn’t handle, they were paid to fight to the death, and had eliminated every bot they had come across. Until. They. Met. Me.” 

The Autobot fired. A streak of laserbolt sheared one of her antennae off. Her systems immediately screamed a damage report and were promptly suppressed. Puncture’s optics glowed slightly as the Autobot reloaded, aiming again before she could gain any ground. 

“You stay right there,” she threatened. “Be a shame to blast your helm off ‘fore I’m done fryin’ it.”

She huffed, narrowing her optics. “Oh really? You think you can do it, Autobot? You think you’ll be any different from your allies? From your friend?” 

“You don’t know me.”

“And you don’t know me.”

She kept her distance, circling around the Autobot, clearing the water and making it onto sand. A rush on such uneven terrain would give her several new injuries, and with the gouge the cargo plane had given her, a well-aimed blast could be fatal. Yet all she needed to do was to grab this Autobot once and it would be over. She calculated the risk of a charge  as the wind picked up again, bringing a few flames between them. 

The Autobot kept her rifle trained the entire time, never losing focus. She noted that there was something about her hands that seemed off–unlike average Cybertronians, her servos had pads on the end of them. Wires ran their length and down her arm, vanishing into the crook of her elbow. 

It would probably be beneficial not to let her make physical contact, then. Years of facing unknown opponents in the arena had told her that before a charge, one must never underestimate their opponent. Years of killing Autobots in the field like they were turbofoxes had dulled that instinct a bit, but observing the fearlessness of this particular one was giving her pause. No one who couldn’t back it up stood so fearlessly against their foe. 

Her optics were slightly unfocused. She was crunching numbers while watching Puncture, yet her aim never wavered and her grip remained steady. This was no fresh recruit. 

Oh, this would be fun. They were both dancing around one another, waiting for an opening, a weakness. If she charged, she risked injury without any form of aid, possibly ending in death. If the Autobot charged, if she fired and missed, if she didn’t hit the fatal wound, she risked death. 

The prospect was so exciting to her she almost began to buzz.

Her pede kicked against the helm of the Autobot she’d killed, and Puncture stopped in her circling. Casting a quick glance downwards, she had an idea. 

“Tell me, Autobot!” she declared, gesturing with a claw. “What was his name? You were so eager for mine. Was he even worth a designation? Or did he die a nobody?”

“You ain’t worth his name.” Her tone remained even. “I know what you’re doin’. Tryin’ to rile me up. Tryin’ to get an openin’. You ain’t gettin’ that, gladiator.” 

“Not fool enough for emotions, Autobot?” She smirked. “Good. I hate an opponent who kills themselves with their mistakes. Failing to take advantage of openings, failing to punish faults, failing to make that vital first move, and most importantly of all, failing…” 

Her claw hooked the edge of the Autobot helm and, in a single motion, she launched it at the Autobot. 

“TO FIGHT DIRTY!” 

And she charged. 

The Autobot dodged to the side, discharging her rifle as Puncture swiped where she had just stood. The bolt singed into the left of her chassis, smoke curling as she opened her mask and spat forth a wave of venom. Swift as a turbofox the Autobot raised her rifle to the oncoming wave and moved back, blocking the majority of droplets with its sacrifice. The metal began to melt as she flipped a switch on the side and threw it straight for Puncture’s helm. 

She raised her claw to block the projectile right as it exploded. A flash of pink was all she saw as the blast knocked her back, smashing her against the rock face. Her systems buzzed with damage reports as her vision momentarily glitched. 

And the Autobot was on her in a millisecond, punching her clean in the face. Blunt pain exploded in her faceplate, worsened when her helm smacked against the stone again. It struck her again, again, again, aga–

She didn’t need her vision to grab the fist about to hit her again, crushing it with ease between her claws. Through the sounds of twisting metal she heard the Autobot hiss. Her other claw was at her waist in a second, deadly tips poking against wires with only the slightest press. 

“Was that all?” She taunted, turning to face the Autobot again. Her vision was slightly blurred, but she could make out the rage in her optics. “You wasted your opening to punch me in the face, instead of going for the spark?”

The Autobot roared, free arm punching clean through her visor. The pads on her servos tapped onto her inner working all at once and an electrical current ran through her. Puncture’s vision suddenly failed, her systems forcibly redirected into her memory banks. 

And she was no longer on the beach. She stood in a dark alley, the buildings around her forming walls so great she could not see their ends. Before her the path stretched into endless darkness. Behind her was the clamor of death itself.

The walls all closed in at once. Puncture grunted and slammed her claws against them, holding them off with brute force alone. The clamoring behind her grew louder and the path before her began to fall away. 

She risked a look back. 

Rapidly approaching was a creature made of wires and sharp points. Burning flames formed its spark and poured over its broken chassis. Its faceplate had been torn up, exposing its skeletal understructure. Tentacles formed from spines burst from its back, each tipped with claws sharp enough to tear steel. And as she met its yellow eyes, she felt the spark in her chest skip a beat. 

The walls closed in even tighter. Her arms creaked with strain, pain shooting through her body. The ground beneath her feet was threatening to crumble at any moment. 

If she gave up, she’d be crushed. If she held on, she’d either fall or be eaten. Perhaps both at once. That thing was gaining distance fast. Its claws scraped the metal eagerly. And yet despite it all…

She wasn’t afraid. Her systems were screaming for her to be. But she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. It was the first thing they took. Fighters who were afraid would run. Fighters who were afraid would hesitate. Fighters who were afraid made poor entertainment. If you felt fear, you didn’t make it in The Pit. 

She remembered the day it was taken from her as clearly as she remembered coming online. The overlord had gripped her by her chin and told her to hold still. She’d watched his fingers open and turn into drills. And with no anesthesia, he’d drilled straight into her brain. 

The scraping that had echoed through her mind would never leave her. As it rang through her head, the entire world melted away. Suddenly she was standing on the metallic surface of a brain, and over her hovered the largest drill she’d ever seen. It spun, shrieking with anticipation as it approached her. 

Her pedes were frozen. Looking down she saw hundreds of holes from which Energon poured. Floating within the pools like flecks of soot were parts, familiar parts painted with the colors of bots she’d once known. 

Brilliant silver wings, brilliant silver claws. Delicate glassy eyes and a chain woven from the finest tungsten available. Massive hands, massive enough to crush a bots chassis between them. An eyepatch that hid the scar given for insubordination. Two life chords split around a large helm that connected to a brain delicately held between dentae. And in the midst of it all…

Her own head, empty and devoid of substance. Not the ugly Insecticon one attached to her shoulders. No, it was her. The real her, with her two curved horns and trifecta of spikes. There were her two red eyes, glassy and always broken from fighting. There were her dermas and her dented cheek and the uneven curve on the left of her helm that resulted from Sparks trying and failing to give her a new style. 

The drill was just above her head. Not her real one. The one she inhabited now, by no choice of her own. She looked at her claws and found they were melting. Her entire body was melting. 

The body that she had been given, that she never wanted, that entrapped her like a cocoon, was melting away.

And in the face of death, she laughed. 

The drill collided with her helm and splattered the world with its droplets. Yet still her laugh echoed through the space with its gurgle. As her body fell away, taking her mind with it, she laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 

There was nothing else she could do. 

—--

Even as the shocks ran up her arms and the pain began to fry her wires from the inside out, Channel continued to torture her prisoner. It was her last resort and by Primus would she make it count. If it killed them both, she didn’t care. If it ruined her forever, she didn’t care. Puncture would pay for killing Uptick. It would pay for taking the last thread of her joy away. She’d take its name and erase it from history and die with the knowledge that while Uptick would live on in someone’s memory, Puncture was gone forever. 

But damn, was it a fighter. Anyone else would have died from spark failure following incredible stressing of the mind–she would know. It wasn’t the first time she’d killed someone by doing this. 

That was what had locked her onto Cybertron. She could kill anyone, small, large, weak, strong, impossibly defensive, impossibly offensive. One touch, and their death was guaranteed. 

One touch, and she could take away pain. One touch, and she could take away fear. One touch, and she could make her patients as happy as their forging day. And this war had turned her into a machine whose greatest power was killing. 

Damn them all. Damn them for ruining her. Damn them for ruining Uptick. Damn them for sending Rotors to his death for information that would prove useless in the grand scheme of things. Damn them for leaving her entire regiment to die on that field, to die on a foreign planet, and taking the Ark to hide away for four million years. Damn Optimus Prime for dying so foolishly playing hero. And damn the Matrix for picking someone so incompetent and apathetic he couldn’t even be bothered to visit Earth after being endowed. 

This entire war was so pointless. What were they fighting against? The future of their own species? Whether they drove other planets to extinction under the guise of defending them from Decepticons, burying their organics beneath gunfire and rushing pedes, or conquered them in the name of cyberforming, they were still eliminating entire worlds in the name of Cybertron. Earth was just another rock that would be fought upon, crushed into dirt, and abandoned when neither side could find use for it anymore. 

She’d seen it happen with hundreds of other planets. She’d seen how pointless the fighting had become. Energon was always in short supply. No Matrix endowments would fix that. And whether it was made peacefully or violently, it would drain the resources of other planets during its creation.

If they did not crush a planet beneath their bodies they would drain it for its fuel. One way or another, everything her kind touched died. 

Perhaps she was just the personification of that. And here, on the planet where the war was supposedly decided, she was dying in her final attempt to end the fighting. 

Oh, how ironic it all was. 

Her systems blared warnings. The claw around her waist gripped tighter, breaking wires and bending plating. Her body was so hot the wind now had a chill to it. But no matter what, she would kill this Decepticon. 

For Globetrotter. 

A shriek suddenly sounded through the air. It was a sound so familiar to her, one that always sent a bolt of fear down her spine. It was a sound that portended a barrage of laser fire. It was a sound that promised a chase on foot after her alt mode was disabled. It came in threes, and was often accompanied by laughter. 

It was the roar of a Seeker’s engine. And it was rapidly growing louder. 

What was it that Uptick had said? He couldn’t take them. He couldn’t take either of them. 

The one beneath her was only one of them. 

Fear ran down her spine as charged lightning. She looked over her shoulder, optics scanning the sky in terror. And there, piercing through the air like a needle, was the green and pink shape of the Seeker. 

Her focus broke. Channel tore her servos from Puncture’s helm and squirmed desperately in its grip. Her danger sensor was shrieking so loud it almost drowned out the roar of the engines, system flaring with hundreds of warnings. Red covered her vision, blaring over and over as the Seeker drew closer. 

The Rainmaker. Acid Storm. The remembrance of acidic droplets melting her plating helped her tear her broken arm off, leaving behind a mess of sparking wires. One blockade gone, one to go. But she could not tear off her hips so easily. 

And even if she could, she would not make it far. He was here. 

Acid Storm banked up as he shot over the beach, backflipping to transform back. He did it without the deadly grace of his kind, landing heavily on two damaged pedes. His wings were inverted, just as she’d seen in Starburst’s memories, and his front completely stained with Energon. But unlike in Starburst’s memories, the gray of death had crept into his servos, his side was torn open and bleeding out its own T-Cog, and his face was gone. 

All she could see of it were two glowing white optics. 

“Get. Off. Of. Him.” He threatened. Channel raised an arm in surrender. It wasn’t enough. “Only I get to kill him.”

“Look, I ain’t know what you two got goin’ on, but I–”

“SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” Acid Storm staggered forward, clawing at his arm, pulling off what looked like a spine. With each step he moved mysterious gears on it, unfolding the decoration into a familiar shape. 

A sniper rifle. It was the ugliest one she’d ever seen, but if there was one thing she knew about unnatural looking weapons, it was that they were often more dangerous than the proper ones.

Channel gritted her teeth and strained against the claws keeping her in place. Her body shrieked from the damage the movement inflicted. 

Acid Storm seemed to find amusement in that. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a giggle in his voice. “Are you scared of me? But I’m just a little Seeker, aren’t I? A little nobody?”

“I ain’t–” 

“SHUT THE FRAG UP!” The rifle was complete now, and pointed straight at her helm. His arms were shaking, but despite it all he was smiling. At least, she thought he was. It was difficult to tell with the lack of a faceplate. “You don’t talk unless I say you do. Got that, Autobot scum?”

When she gave no answer he went on. “You really think you’ve won this planet, don’t you? You really think we’re all dead? You run around on the land like you own the place. And all the while you pretend, saying these organics are your friends.” His laugh sounded pained. “And what do I do? Where am I forced to hide? Beneath the ocean, for cycles. While you play with these WORTHLESS organics.” 

He suddenly gagged, spitting out a stream of thin, water diluted Energon. 

“ALL BECAUSE I’M A SEEKER! You…you left me! You LEFT ME! THEY ALL LEFT ME!” 

He was screaming now. 

“They think I’m so worthless! They all think I’m weak! Autobot, Decepticon! Ally, enemy! Well I’LL show you who’s weak! I’ll show you ALL!” 

He moved his hand from the trigger on his rifle and dug his servos into his chassis, pulling at the broken cockpit as if attempting to rip it open. 

“Do you want to know something, Autobot? How old do you think I am? Speak.”

Channel arched an optical ridge. “A Seeker, huh? Anywhere from four million t–”

“WRONG!” He fired. 

The laser bolt that missed her by several feet hit the stone and exploded with so much force that shards buried themselves in the sand on the other side of the beach. Her audials momentarily broke. The Seeker trembled as if his spark was threatening to burst. 

“I’m only one million. Such a small number, right?” He leaned forward, tilting his head as he made eye contact. “Do you know how many I’ve killed, in that time?”

She didn’t answer, afraid that this time, he wouldn’t miss. But beyond that, her optics detected movement at the edge of the cliff. A hand with five long needles was running along the stone, tracking Acid Storm’s movements perfectly.

“Tell me, Autobot. Do you know about the Haumerian Massacre?”

The Haumerian Massacre. She knew it well. Following the disappearance of the Ark, the Autobots had split into several groups and retreated to four separate planets near Cybertron. The Haumerian Massacre was the name coined for the disappearance of one of those groups. 

But there was a problem. 

“That…that was 3.5 million years ago.” 

Despite his lack of a face, the Seeker smiled. 

“Do you believe in the Afterspark, Autobot?”

“I–”

“Don’t. Because trust me when I say this: I’ve been. There is life after death. But it isn’t what you think.” He clawed even more at his cockpit. She caught a glimpse of something that looked mechanical where his spark chamber should have been. “Do you want to know what it’s like?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer. Puncture stirred beneath her, claws flexing against her already damaged waist. Channel screamed in pain. The Seeker hissed, training his rifle on Puncture’s helm instead. 

And from the ridge above them, the thing in the pyre leaped. 

It all happened at once. The blazing, half melted thing landed on Acid Storm, taking him to the floor as its tentacles pierced into his plating. He screamed with an agony so rich she disabled her audials, which kept her from hearing everyone else’s as his side suddenly lit up. Bolts of white energy shot out from him and connected with them all. 

It was a pain so great her systems momentarily offlined. She shrieked with all she had left in her, her T-cog seizing and her functions grinding to a halt. An endless stream of warnings told her about the glitches running rampant through her system. Overheat was inevitable. Her body broke, and after all these years, finally rejected her. 

As if decapitated by an invisible scythe, Channel’s head fell clean off her body, landing on the sand besides Puncture’s massive form. 

Then it unfolded itself into a tiny, black robot, whose Autobot insignia was on her back. She looked around in terror at the writhing mass before her and the massive monster trembling behind her. And with the desperation that drives parents to eat their young, she bolted into the ocean, leaving behind the titans who’d so cruelly decided her fate. 

—----

She’d practically torn her T-Cog out, but she didn’t care. Invert grabbed the tentacle spasming above her and rose to her feet, planting her pedes as she swung with the force of her whole body. The thing slammed into the rock face behind her. Bending to grab her rifle with one hand, she twisted her T-Cog even more. Energy was flowing from her into it, and each streak made it contort even more. 

Her legs no longer felt ready to collapse. Her arms no longer felt numb. The rage pumping through her must have deafened the side effects. Or perhaps death was so close to her now, its effects no longer hindered her. Whatever the case, Invert didn’t care. Her ability was working to her benefit, and she would not pass up this opportunity. 

“Feel my pain. Feel my pain,” she spat. “I’ll take you down with me, and we’ll both die horrible deaths, and I’ll come back in that tub of sentio metallico while your body smelts into someone’s next part, isn’t that nice? Won’t that be so nice?”

She purged more watery energon as she approached the thing. By consuming what had seeped into the swamp and sucking from every drying wire in the dead Autobots, she’d acquired enough fuel to fly. It had been filthy and humiliating, even more than being awoken by the shocks from that Autobot’s weapon while he struggled with Puncture. She’d been unable to speak, unable to ask for help or congratulate her ally. 

And then said ally had left her, like her previous allies had, like Shockwave had, like her trine had, like the Autobots had. That was all any of them ever did. She was just a thing to be thrown away and abandoned. 

And she’d had enough. 

The monster was all wires and twisted plating. It sparkchamber was exposed as it rolled on its back, arching from the energy pouring into it. Removing her hand from her T-Cog, she trained her rifle on its vital organ.

Which was when it truly hit her: she wasn’t in pain. 

The last time she’d used her ability, it had completely incapacitated her. The pain had been almost unbearable. And when it was done, her frame had felt cold. 

That was how it had always been. In the million years she’d had her ability, it had never once left her unscathed.

She looked to her servos and saw they were completely gray. So were her forearms. It was spreading, and soon she’d have to abandon this frame as well. But despite the death literally crawling over her, she wasn’t in pain. 

What development was this? 

Despite the fact that her T-Cog was practically hanging out of her side, she felt it shift of its own will. Looking to her wings, she saw they’d moved to a proper upright position.

In the million years he’d spent studying her, Shockwave hadn’t once managed to fix her wings. And yet here, on this beach, after using the ability he blamed on her inversion, they’d miraculously fixed themselves. 

It was a shock so great her rage melted, and her fingers suddenly felt much weaker on the trigger than they had a moment ago. She stared down at the still creature in the sand, the thing that had somehow caused this miracle. 

As far as monsters went, it was a poor excuse. Skeletal in nature, its warped and jagged plating covered onto only the essentials. Its abdomen had been replaced with what looked like clear glass, displaying an empty chamber full of glowing liquid. On its head were the remnants of a blue helm, now cut into a three-fold crest, the middle of which held a large cracked jewel. From its shoulders and back sprouted six tentacles which resembled spines. Four were tipped with deadly claws, but two bore purple hands.

Its optics opened. They were yellow and surprisingly alive. As they fell on her they widened with fear. The creature suddenly animated and scrambled back, two of its tentacles wrapping around itself. 

“Who are you!? Where am I?! What–” It raised a hand defensively, then stared at the appendage in horror. “What…what…happened to me?!”

She furrowed her optical ridges. “You attacked me, and I shocked you. Who are you? No, what are you? Why aren’t you inanimate on the floor?”

“I-I don’t know! What’s going on!?” 

The Insecticon groaned. Invert turned cold eyes on him. 

“You.” 

His one optic was onlining, indicated by the red glow behind his broken visor. There was a hole in his head where the Autobot had punched clean into it. He turned his head slightly, focusing on Invert. 

“See…ker…” he said weakly. “You’re…alive…”

“Of course I am,” she snapped. “Did you really thing–”

“Your…ability…sucks.” He laughed weakly. “Frag…you.”

Invert growled. “Frag you too, glitch. Oh, and before I kill you? I saved your life. No matter how strong you think you are, a Seeker is the one who saved your aft.” She spat a pink blob on his side. “Deal with it.”

 “Wait,” the creature cut in, “who are you? Both of you! Why are you aiming a rifle at him?! No one needs to die, we can–”

The ocean suddenly exploded. Invert jerked back, looking to the source as a massive cargo plane burst forth from the waves, soaring into the sky. The Autobot insignia was emblazoned on its side. 

They all watched as the plane shot over the island and disappeared, the roar of its engines slowly fading away beyond the crackling of organics. Even the fire was dying down now, having consumed what it could of the island and leveling out into a fine layer of ash. 

She frowned, turning her attention back to the Insecticon, then the creature. If an Autobot had just escaped the island, they’d be back with more. She had limited time to escape the island and return to Victory. This time, however, it wouldn’t be to wait. 

No, frag that. They’d left her behind on Earth. To the Decepticon cause she was nothing but a worthless, weak Seeker. There was only one ‘Con who saw any worth in her, even if it was the worst kind, and he was lightyears away, still waiting on Cybertron. 

Cybertron, where ‘Cons like her ruled and Energon was at least available in rations beyond a single cube. Frag Earth. The Autobots could have this planet. 

She huffed and approached the Insecticon, keeping her rifle trained on his head. 

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I think it’ll be fine to leave you here. The Autobots can always use a few more prisoners.” 

She could feel his glare. Invert didn’t care. He could rot in an Autobot cell for the rest of his days. It was a far worse fate than death, and he would know it. Death was a mercy. There was no fate crueler than its denial. 

“But first, you’re going to pay your due.” 

Her Energon levels were less than half, and she’d need more to return to Victory. There were several singes on his plating that, if she hit them hard enough, they’d leak. One looked like it could be fatal if she struck it hard enough. His face was bleeding from the hole in it. She could take her pick of wounds…

If only they weren’t too kind for someone like him.

Turning the dial on her rifle down, she aimed at his shoulder and fired. The bolt pierced clean through him and several feet into the stone. The arm fell away and Energon poured from its source. 

Invert didn’t even need to kneel to bring her intake to the source. She could feel the hate radiating from him and taste it in the bitterness of his processed fuel. Good. That was what the strongest Decepticons were made of. 

Only when she’d drank her fill did she back off and give him an impish smile. 

“You might wanna get that looked at, if you ever find someone stupid enough to care about you.” 

Then she turned back to the creature, the strange thing that had stabilized her, given her proper wings, and taken away her pain. Of course she had to take it with her. Something about it filled a piece in her that was missing, or perhaps took away the excess she suffered from. More study, as Shockwave would say, was needed. She couldn’t let this blessing escape her, even if it had tried to kill her. 

It backed away from her as she approached, trying to give it a friendly smile. Was something wrong with her face? It looked so scared. 

“Why are you backing off? I’m trying to help you,” she said. “Cmon, get up. I’m going to get us off this island. There’s a way better place for us eight hours from here.”

“I...uh…I don’t really…trust…you…” It said, tentacles wavering uncertainly. She rolled her eyes. 

“Okay, let’s get names out of the way then. I’m Invert. Who are you?”

“Um…Luster.” He looked at the brand on her wings. “You’re a Decepticon.”

“Yes, I am. It’s the winning team. And what are you? A monster in the middle of nowhere?”

He looked at his hands, tentacles sagging. 

“Look, allegiance doesn’t matter right now. Do you want to rot on this island with no Energon and no friends, or do you want to come with me and have a chance at getting off this awful rock?”

“Off this awful rock?”

“Off this planet! We’re going back to Cybertron. Frag Earth, this place is awful. The Autobots can keep it. Have you ever met an Autobot? They’re a bunch of sappy idiots. And if they want to play with these gross organics all day, they can have it!”

“I…yes, they…they can have it,” he echoed, shakily moving to his feet. They were too thin to support his weight and almost immediately gave out. Instead, the tentacles on his lower back came to his rescue, bracing against the ground to let him walk. 

He was like a newly forged sparkling. She found it charming. “Alright then, Luster, ever flown in a jet?”

“Uh…no.” 

“Well, you’re about to learn!” She ordered herself to transform, letting the natural feeling that had always felt so unnatural wash over her like a gentle wave. No longer was it a tide of confusion, balance problems, and navigation issues. Her body felt normal, natural, and proper, even though it wasn’t hers. 

She cheerfully popped her broken cockpit, sending its last few glass shards flying. “Now get in!”

Luster cringed at the sight, even more so when a glass shard hit him. He was hesitant, looking around at the island, at the Insecticon, at the sky, as if he expected rescue to come at any given moment. Only when she fired up her engines in warning did he finally move, carrying himself to her cockpit, looking in warily, and finally clambering in. 

He was so light she could forget he was there. Good, it meant she’d have an easy flight.

“Alright, hold on, my seat belts don’t work and if you fall out I can’t guarantee I’ll catch you in time!”

“Wait, wha–”

Her cockpit closed and her engines powered up, and with the ease befitting a proper Seeker, not a half-formed failure who couldn’t even take off without help, Invert shot into the air. 

The charred island and its sole occupant were left behind. 

[pucksandpower]

A Royal Surprise

Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader

Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England … oops?

One of Red Bull Racing’s PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. It’s a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslie’s eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.

“The balance felt off in turn three during the sim,” Max says, leaning back in his chair. “We might need to adjust the downforce.”

Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.

But then, Max casually adds, “Oh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriend’s coming to watch the race.”

Leslie’s pen stills. There’s something in Max’s tone that makes her look up sharply.

“Girlfriend?” Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a few months now. We’ve been keeping it quiet.”

Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. “Anyone we know?” She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.

Max’s grin widens. “You could say that. It’s Y/N.”

The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...”

“The Princess of Wales, yeah,” Max confirms, as if he’s just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.

Leslie’s notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence that’s fallen over the room.

“Max,” Christian says slowly, “are you telling us that you’re dating the future Queen of England?”

Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone who’s just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. “That’s right.”

Leslie’s mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I need to make some calls,” she says weakly.

But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. “Wait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?”

“About six months,” Max replies. “We met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.”

Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. “Six months,” she mutters. “You’ve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and we’re just finding out now?”

Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “We wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.”

Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. “Max,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...”

“It’s all been taken care of,” Max assures her. “The palace has been very discreet.”

Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. “The palace. Of course. Because now we’re dealing with actual palaces.”

Christian clears his throat. “Right. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think we’re going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?”

Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.

As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. “Leslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Leslie takes a deep breath. “Max, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?”

Max chuckles. “Sorry about that. If it helps, you’re handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.”

“Oh God,” Leslie groans. “I’m going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, aren’t I?”

“They’re actually pretty cool,” Max says. “A bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.”

Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?”

For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated “chance” meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.

“And you’re sure about this?” Leslie asks finally. “Dating her ... it’s not exactly going to be easy for you.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know. But she’s worth it. We’re worth it.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It can’t be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.

“Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“No more bombshells, okay? My heart can’t take it.”

Max grins. “Well, actually ...”

Leslie’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? What is it now?”

“Her father ... he’s a big F1 fan. He’s been hinting that he’d like to attend a race.”

The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Max’s concerned voice saying, “Leslie? Leslie, are you okay?”

When Leslie comes to, she’s lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Christian says, relief evident in his voice. “You gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.”

Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. “Please tell me I dreamed all of that,” she mutters.

Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, it’s all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?”

Leslie waves him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Just ... processing.” She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. “Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.”

Christian nods. “Good idea. What are you thinking?”

Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. “We need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... ‘Red Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.’”

Max frowns. “Isn’t that a bit ... formal?”

Leslie sighs. “Max, you’re dating the future Queen of England. Everything’s going to be a bit formal from now on.”

“She hates that, you know,” Max says softly. “All the formality. It’s why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.”

Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Max’s voice. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

Max nods. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When I’m with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. She’s just ... her.”

Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. “That’s all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.”

Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.”

“Hey,” Max says, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.”

As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie can’t help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Max’s face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger — and more romantic — than fiction.

“Oh, and Leslie?” Max adds as they’re wrapping up. “About the King wanting to attend a race ...”

Leslie holds up a hand. “One crisis at a time, Max. Let’s get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?”

Max grins. “Fair enough. But just so you know, he’s particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be ‘jolly good fun’ to present the trophies.”

Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. “Max, I swear, if you’re joking ...”

“Would I joke about something like this?” Max asks innocently.

Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. “I’m going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.”

Christian chuckles. “I think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. It’s going to be an interesting ride.”

As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind that’s about to engulf them all, she can’t help but smile slightly. It’s going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.

After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale?

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him.

“I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled.

“This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized.

“I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.

“Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug.

“Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look.

“Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[shybluebirdninja]

Clawsome Dad

Summary: When Logan mistakenly thinks you’re pregnant (you're not), he gets way too excited about baby names and starts building a baby-proof bunker in the backyard.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Wife!Human-reader

Note                : fluff

It all started with Logan catching you looking at a baby onesie at the store—once. You didn’t even touch the thing, just smiled at it for like, two seconds before moving on to the checkout. But that was enough for Logan. His superhuman reflexes missed nothing. You hadn’t even gotten through the door before he had this weird look on his face—half intense, half like he was about to tear through the drywall with his claws.

“Babe?” he asked, voice low, as if he were interrogating a witness. “Is there somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You blinked at him, setting down the groceries. “Uh… no?”

Logan stepped closer, sniffing the air around you. You rolled your eyes. This man and his feral senses. “You’re sure? Nothin’... different?” he pressed, like he was waiting for you to drop some major bombshell.

“I’m sure, Logan. What’s with the third degree? Did I do something?” you asked, confused.

Then it hit you. His eyes flickered to your stomach, and you nearly choked.

Oh hell no.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you held up your hand, waving off the insanity that was clearly brewing in his head. “I am not pregnant.”

Logan frowned, not entirely convinced. “But you were lookin’ at that baby crap in the store—”

“I looked at a onesie for two seconds, Logan! It was cute, that’s all! Doesn’t mean I’m knockin’ out kids tomorrow!” you laughed, but the man didn’t seem amused.

“No baby?” he repeated, brows knitting together like he wasn’t entirely sure you knew how your own body worked.

“NO baby, Logan. Geez,” you reiterated, shaking your head, but the damage was already done.

Over the next couple of days, things got weird. He started acting real strange—asking you about baby names out of nowhere while you were brushing your teeth.

“Thoughts on ‘James Jr.’?” he muttered casually, mid-toothbrush stroke.

You spat out toothpaste, staring at him through the mirror. “James Jr.? Are you serious?”

Logan shrugged. “Seems practical. What, you don’t like it?”

“I—Logan, we are not naming a non-existent kid right now. Where’s this comin’ from?” You were barely containing your laughter. The man could take down an entire squad of bad guys without breaking a sweat, but the idea of potential parenthood had him spiraling into this dad mode that was both terrifying and hilarious.

The worst of it came when you caught him in the backyard, shirtless, sweat dripping, hammering away at something… with adamantium claws fully out. It was definitely not a normal Saturday activity, even for Logan.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, hands on your hips as you watched him drive metal sheets into the ground like a crazed man.

“Buildin’ a bunker,” he replied gruffly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“A what?”

“A baby-proof bunker. Ain’t no kid of mine growin’ up in a death trap house,” Logan muttered, slamming another panel into place. “This world’s dangerous, and that’s just the neighbors.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You—what? Baby-proof… Logan, we don’t even have a baby.”

Logan stopped hammering for a second, looking at you like you were the one missing something here. “But we might, right? Gotta be prepared.”

You slapped your forehead, trying not to lose it. “Prepared for what? An apocalypse where the baby needs a bunker to survive? Babe, seriously, there’s no baby. You don’t need to go full Rambo on the backyard.”

“I’m always prepared,” he grumbled, but there was a glint of uncertainty in his eyes. You could tell he wasn’t ready to back down, though. Logan was never the type to half-ass anything—especially not something he deemed necessary.

By now, the neighbors had definitely noticed. Old Mrs. Jenkins from next door was peeking over the fence with a terrified expression. She whispered something about Logan being a “madman,” which wasn’t entirely untrue in this case.

You sighed, walking up to him and grabbing the hammer from his hand. “Alright, Mr. Clawhammer, we’re done here. Come inside before you scare the rest of the neighborhood.”

Logan hesitated, claws still out. “But—”

“No buts, babe. Unless you’re ready to explain to Mrs. Jenkins why you’re preparing for baby Armageddon, you’re gonna stop now,” you said firmly, dragging him toward the house. “I swear, the last thing we need is for someone to call the cops on your baby-proofing bunker. We’re not even pregnant!”

He let out a gruff noise, retracting his claws with a reluctant snikt. “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked, still looking unconvinced as you pushed him through the door.

You smacked his arm lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. But if I ever do get pregnant, I’m not raising a kid in a damn underground fortress like we’re in some post-apocalyptic wasteland, got it?”

Logan smirked, the edge of his grumpy attitude softening. “Fine, no bunker. But I ain’t changin’ my mind on James Jr.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back with a cocky grin.

[bunny-1111]

Did I stutter? Theo Nott x fem!reader

Description: With the Christmas ball approaching, you can’t stop daydreaming about Theo. But when Pansy reveals that he’s been quietly chasing off your suitors, you’re left questioning his true feelings. When confronted, Theo’s possessiveness comes to light—but will he finally ask you to the ball?

Genre: Angst, slow burn, romance Warnings: Slight possessiveness, mild language

Word count: 1.9k

Part 2, here

Unedited and unread

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

The Christmas ball was a yearly sensation.

When the autumn leaves were long covered by the deep snow of winter, was when you knew it was not far off.

As you sat in the great hall across from your friends in a daydream, imagining Theo all dressed up in a three-piece suit, your mind slipped into mush as you dreamed about his hand placed delicately on your waist, moving you through the steps of a waltz.

"Hello, earth calling. Are you even listening to me?!" Pansy clicked her fingers to pull you attention back into focus

"Sorry, you were saying?" you rush, flustered by your own thoughts.

"Yeah, I was asking if you want to go to Hogsmeade this afternoon?" she continued.

"Oh sure" you agree, you eyes now glued to your plate, trying to pull your mind away from him

"we'll join you, yeah" Draco casually adds

"No!" Pansy quickly exclaims

"what, why not?" replies Draco his voice high and whiney

"Because, girls day, only, we're gonna try find some dresses for the Christmas ball" inisted Pans

"we are?" you question

"we are." she states

"Oh Merlin, I hate this ball bullshit" Enzo adds, throwing his fork down

"Couldn't agree more, Enz" says Theo softly

"Yeah, Theo it must be so annoying having every girl in every house ask you to the dance, gosh you boys are insufferable" ranted Pansy

Oh, that's right, the unpleasant reminder that you and Theodore have no romantic relations and you can't do anything about the girls who swoon over him, Merlin. Why do they all have to be so desperate for him? Why can't they just leave him for you? Why can't something happen between you two why can't h-

"Come on let's go get ready for Hogs" She interrupts your self-destructive thoughts, now dragging you along back to the dorms.

As you shiver into your scarf, the cold air bites at your lips, the snow filled streets of Hogsmeade bring a sense of quickness in turns of just how soon the ball is.

"I expect someone should ask you to the dance soon" Pansy says linking her arms in your as you walk together, shopping bags in your free arms.

"Thanks, Pans, you too," you smile

You're met with unusual silence from her, so you give her a small shove, a gentle nudge, saying, spit it out.

"Well, Draco's asked me to go... I've said yes" she carefully says

"Pans! When, why didn't you tell me? This again, I thought you said you and Dray were really done this time?" You ramble, eyes wide with passionate protection for her

"I know, but like his gonna let someone else take me, I wouldn't want him to go with anyone else take me either, it's just like you and-" she starts

"Don't finish that sentence alright, you and Draco dated, Theo and I nothing" you huff

"Oh yeah, then why is he going around threatening any guy who even considers asking you." her tone

Pansy’s words hit you like a bludger to the chest, forcing the air out of your lungs. You almost stumble your steps, but she keeps her arm linked with yours, pulling you along as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you, cracking at the end.

Pansy raises a brow, glancing at you like she’s holding the world’s best secret, and you’re not in on it. “Oh, don’t play dumb. It’s been happening for months.”

Months?

Theo, your Theo, going around and threatening people from asking you to the ball? That doesn’t make sense. He barely looked at you when you weren't all together, always composed, acting as though your presence didn’t make his eyes soften as you wished they would.

But then again, you have noticed that boys, nice boys, that is, had stopped approaching you after a while. You chalked it up to bad luck. You and your friends did have a certain unapproachability. The rumors swirled about Theodore Nott being unattainable, uninterested in any romance, but he never gave any indication that he’d be willing to defend you, much less ward off potential suitors.

“yeah right, that can’t be true.” Your denial comes out weaker than you intend, the words sitting heavy on your tongue.

Pansy giggles like the school girl she is. “Sweetheart, believe what you want, but I know a possessive bloke when I see one. Trust me, Draco’s the same way, just less… subtle.” She waves her hand dismissively, but her eyes hold a knowing glimmer, irritating you. Like she has insight into your life that you aren’t aware of yourself.

You shake your head, trying to process everything. “But why wouldn’t he just—”

“Ask you himself?” Pansy finishes for you, her voice lilting, almost teasing. “Oh, come on, you know Theo. He’s about as emotionally available as a cursed lock. He probably doesn’t even realise what he’s doing half the time.”

“But pans, months?”

Pansy shrugs a nonchalant gesture that tells you she’s probably been keeping this from you for a while. “Look, I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d figure it out, and honestly, it’s kind of fun watching him sulk whenever someone gets too close. Merlin, the way he glares could melt the snow.”

You let out a breath, the cold air burning your lungs as you try to wrap your mind around it. Theodore Nott, the Theo who lives in your mind, your friend of years, the same Theo you desperately want to yourself, had been quietly chasing off any competition? It feels surreal, like a dream you’d conjured in the midst of one of your daydreams in the Great Hall.

But if that’s true… then why hasn’t he made a move? Why hasn’t he said anything to you?

As if reading your thoughts, Pansy squeezes your arm. “Don’t overthink it. Boys are complicated, especially our boys alright, even when they think they’re being clear. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment, or maybe he’s just an idiot.”

You laugh, a short, breathy sound that fogs up the air around you. “Yeah, idiot sounds about right.”

Hogsmeade is bustling with students, all of them chattering about the upcoming ball, dresses, dates, and everything in between. You glance at shop windows, your eyes trailing over elegant gowns and shimmering accessories, but your mind is miles away, stuck on a certain brown-haired Slytherin boy who, apparently, has been harboring some very mixed signals.

By the time you make it back to the castle, your hands are full of bags, and your head is full of unanswered questions. Pansy is still chattering away, something about her dress and how Draco better match her, but you can barely focus.

You keep replaying her words over and over again. Theo’s threatening people? Why wouldn’t he just ask me? The thought sends your heart into a frenzy, and no matter how much you try to convince yourself, it’s nothing, that maybe Pansy is exaggerating; you know deep down that she’s probably right.

It isn’t until the next morning at breakfast that you catch sight of Theo, sitting at the Slytherin table with his usual quiet confidence. His hair is slightly tousled, like he couldn’t be bothered to comb it properly, and his tie is crooked, but it doesn’t matter—he still looks effortlessly good, as always.

Your heart does a little flip as you watch him, your mind racing with everything Pansy told you. Should you say something? Ask him if it’s true? Or would that be too forward? Maybe you should just wait it out, see if he says anything first…

But before you can make a decision, Theo glances up and locks eyes with you. It’s a brief moment, but it’s enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but there’s something in his gaze that makes your stomach twist.

You quickly look away, focusing on your plate, but your thoughts are a mess. Could he see it all on your face? Are you accidentally showing what you didn't have the courage to say?

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and by the time evening rolls around, you’re no closer to figuring out what to do. Pansy, of course, is no help—she just keeps teasing you about it, making cryptic comments about how Theo’s going to “make his move” eventually.

You’re not so sure.

It’s not until later, when you’re heading back to the common room after a long day of classes, that you run into Theo. Literally.

You’re not paying attention, too caught up in your own thoughts, and you bump right into him as you turn the corner.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t—” you start to apologize, but the words die in your throat when you look up and realize it’s him.

Theo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual calm, unreadable expression in place. But there’s something different about him tonight, something that makes your heart race.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine, as his hand lays on your shoulder, steading your place in front of him

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your voice still, but it’s a losing battle.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and tension.

Before you can make a decision, Theo breaks the silence. “You’re going to the ball, right?”

The question catches you off guard, and you nod before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, I am.”

His eyes darken slightly, and he takes a step closer. “With anyone?”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. Is this it? Is he finally going to ask you?

“No,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo’s gaze stays locked on yours for a long moment, and then, finally, he says, “Good. Keep it that way.”

And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.

You stand frozen in place, his words echoing in your mind. Good. Keep it that way. It’s a simple sentence, but the way Theo said it, with that intensity in his eyes, sends your heart into a tailspin.

What did he mean by that? Was it a warning? A request? Or something else entirely?

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s no use. Theo’s always been hard to read, but this feels different—like there’s something just beneath the surface that you can’t quite grasp.

"No Theo wait!" you call out before he gets too far

His body swiftly turns around waiting for you, typical Teddy, of course he makes you run after him.

When you finally reach him all you can manage is "I don't understand."

"what's not to understand, darling," he says softly almost sympathetic

"Have you stopped guys from asking me, personally?" you say so quickly you didn't even have time to realise what you had just asked

"Yes. I have" he replies immediately

"wh-what?" you mutter out

"Did I fucking stutter? Anyone asks you and you tell me" his tone stern and meaningful, inching closer and closer to you, "alright"

"alright" you agree in a small voice

"Good girl" he smiles as he tilts his head, before walking off.

well, what the fuck now.

Author Note: I've been feeling so unsure about my writing lately, I've been struggling to produce good work. I have been so flat out at work that by the time I get home, I'm writing at like 2am, so it just turns out shit... and I get too tired to finish it properly like this one, but I just wanted to get something out. Ugh, I'm sorry. anyway hope you try to enjoy this one, I will get back to my confident writing soon, I hope lol love youuuuuuu, B.

Part 2, here

[the-raindeer-king]

(A/N: prt 3 of Mama Riley! One use of pronouns but it's nothing too gendered. Ignore any spelling error. I wrote part of this half asleep.)

Silence stretches out between you and Mama Riley. She's dropped an absolute bombshell of information so casually, as if it was like talking about the weather. And she's so confident in her statement, leaving no room for argument.

You're not entirely sure how to respond. But you manage to squeak out, “Is that so?” which is such a bad response. You can't help but cringe at yourself.

It makes Mama Riley laugh though. She really does like you. You're a firecracker, in her opinion, and she thinks you'd be good for Simon. But she promises that if you don't want to date him, that's okay. You two were friends before Simon caught feelings, and she won't let anything change that. She tells you to at least consider it.

You spend the next week considering it. Looking back over your interactions with Simon, knowing how he feels, it feels almost obvious. He's tense around you because he likes you. He keeps bringing you gifts and remembering your favorite drink because he likes you.

But where do your own feelings lie? You hated him in the beginning, and gradually warmed up to the mountain of a man. But do you have feelings for him? The thought process makes your head spin, and there's a weird feeling in your chest. The question is no closer to being answered.

Not until he returns from deployment. He's got a new scar on his ear, and there's a limp in his walk. Caught a knife in the side, just barely missed anything important, he informs you and his mum. And your heart clenches at the thought.

Before you can really think about it, you're scolding him for being so casual about being injured. He's got people who care about him, he can't be so flippant about these things. He has a reason to come home, so he needs to act like it. If not for his own sake, then for you and his mom.

Despite the fact that you're chewing him out, there's this tender look on his face, affection in his eyes. He quietly huffs out a ‘yes ma'am/sir’, and the warmth in his eyes is reflected by the warmth growing on your cheeks.

There's a pause, something heavy in the air. Simon opens his mouth, ready to say something, but the moment is broken when Mama Riley comes bustling into the living room, dinner plates in hand. Her eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. But she doesn't comment on anything, just passes out dinner and settles down on the loveseat.

Over the next few weeks, you and Simon have a lot of tense moments, ready to finally admit your feelings to each other. But each time is ruined by some interruption. Mama Riley interrupts, your phone rings. Once, the kids down the hall came running past, shrieking about the upcoming snowfall.

Poor Simon is trying not to totally lose it. This is the closest he's gotten to admitting his feelings, to have you finally, and every time something interrupts you. He doesn't want to mess this up. It needs to be perfect because, in his head, that's what you deserve, that's how he's going to win you over. Unbeknownst to Simon, he's already won your heart. He just needs to ask you out.

Once again, it's Mama Riley to the rescue. You three have a tradition: the days leading up to Simon's next deployment, you all spend the night at Mama Riley's flat together. Now, Simon's on leave for the next few weeks, but she can't bear to watch the two of you struggle like this.

So she invites you both over, insisting that it'll be nice to have you both over for something fun instead of sad. And then she conveniently remembers that she's got a book club tonight, and she leaves, telling you two to get comfy, watch a movie. She'll be back.

Now's a better time than never, especially since Mama Riley's practically given you the chance. She's gone all of two seconds, before you whip your attention onto Simon, blurting out, “Your mom told me you're in love with me. Is that true?”

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 3

The paddock was no longer just a workplace—it was a battlefield of emotions. Yn’s calm demeanor and kindhearted nature had captured the hearts of every man on the grid, single or taken. She had no idea about the storm of feelings she left in her wake, but the tension between the drivers was palpable.

And with the bombshell news that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari, the frenzy only escalated.

Lewis

Lewis waited for Yn outside the hospitality area, leaning casually against the wall. When she appeared, juggling her tablet and several papers, he stepped forward, his warm smile catching her attention.

“Yn,” he said smoothly, “do you have a minute?”

“For you? Always,” she replied with a smile.

He guided her to a quieter corner, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. “Listen, I’ve got something important to talk about. You’ve heard the news, right?”

She nodded. “You’re going to Ferrari. Congratulations, Lewis. They’re lucky to have you.”

“They’d be even luckier if you came with me,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Yn blinked, stunned. “Me? At Ferrari?”

He smiled, placing both hands gently on her waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against her sides. “You’re the best at what you do. And I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I had you on my team.”

“Lewis, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Think about it.” His hands squeezed her waist tighter before letting go.

Before she could reply, he stepped back, his gaze intense. “No pressure,” he added, though his expression suggested otherwise.

Yn’s heart raced as she watched him walk away, his confidence leaving her breathless.

Lando

Lando couldn’t get through a single day without seeing Yn. Her presence had become a necessity, a fix he craved. But as her job kept her moving constantly, he needed to ensure they “coincidentally” crossed paths.

That’s where the AirTags came in.

Yn had no idea that nearly every item she owned—a handbag, a water bottle, even her laptop case—had a discreet tracker hidden inside, courtesy of Lando.

“Yn!” Lando exclaimed, rounding a corner with perfect timing as she exited a meeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

She laughed. “Hi, Lando. What a surprise.”

“It’s fate,” he said, grinning.

He casually walked with her, keeping the conversation light, but his heart raced as he basked in her attention.

At night, Lando’s obsession took on a different form. In his bedroom, one wall was entirely dedicated to her. Photos of Yn smiling, laughing, working—captured both candidly and from afar—covered every inch.

One evening, his trainer stopped by unexpectedly.

“Lando,” he began, trailing off when he noticed the wall. “Mate, what the hell is this?”

Lando turned, unfazed. “Art,” he replied simply, his eyes fixed on one particular photo of Yn.

Franco

Franco had a different tactic: he showered Yn with affection and introduced her to the richness of his culture. He found her during lunch and waved her over to his table, where he’d set up a spread of traditional Argentine dishes.

“What’s all this?” Yn asked, her eyes lighting up.

“This,” Franco said with a charming smile, “is a little piece of Argentina. Sit, sit.”

She sat, and Franco immediately began serving her, explaining each dish with pride. “This is empanada criolla, and this—ah, careful, it’s spicy—is chimichurri. You have to try it with this.”

He picked up a small piece of empanada and held it to her lips. “Here, taste.”

Yn hesitated but opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her.

“How is it?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

“Delicious,” she admitted, smiling.

Franco leaned closer, his lips kissing the corner of her lips. “You had some sauce here,” he murmured before kissing her again on the cheek, lingering there for a moment.

Yn’s cheeks turned pink. “Franco…”

“I’ll make you fall in love with Argentina,” he promised, his voice low. “And maybe… me too.”

Fernando

Fernando prided himself on being Yn’s rock. While the other drivers acted like lovesick teenagers, he was her guiding figure, the one she turned to for advice.

One evening, Yn found him in his motorhome, reviewing strategy notes.

“Fernando, do you have a minute?” she asked, poking her head in.

“For you? Always,” he replied, motioning for her to sit.

She explained her dilemma about a work decision, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Fernando listened intently, his hand resting on her knee to ground her.

“Yn,” he said softly, “you’re overthinking. Trust your instincts. They’ve never failed you.”

She nodded, her tension easing under his steady gaze.

As she stood to leave, Fernando reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re too good for this chaos,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Those boys don’t deserve you.”

Yn laughed lightly. “You’re too protective.”

“Someone has to be,” he replied, his hand lingering on her shoulder as he guided her out.

---

The paddock had become a minefield of stolen glances, jealous stares, and escalating tensions. Each driver had his own way of vying for Yn’s attention, but none could truly claim her heart—not yet, anyway.

Yn, blissfully unaware of the storm she had created, continued her work with a smile, unknowingly leaving a trail of broken hearts and unspoken confessions in her wake.

The question wasn’t if she’d notice—it was when. And when she did, the paddock would never be the same.

Part 1. Part 2

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (11)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: after a lil bit of a break, chem ov has returned! More of the drama, the yearning, and the tension is served here, for your pleasure <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Following the reader's unfortunate accident, tensions run high between the two men vying for her heart. The cast get together to celebrate Ewan's birthday, and things go exactly as you would expect. And then some.

Ewan has never been the most active in the cast group chat. It does amuse him some, especially when Tom and Rhys get into those selfie battles of theirs, when all throughout the day, the chat would be flooded with deliberately posed pictures of the two pulling the most ridiculous faces in increasingly absurd locations.

It's a place for playful jabs, catching up, sharing updates. Light banter all around.

Which is why Ewan's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the latest message came. He had been on location in LA, running through the script for his film when he received the notification. He’d ignored it at first, never one to reply promptly anyway. But a flicker of instinct – or maybe he felt it, felt you – made him check. 

Phia informed the group that you had an accident.

“... and it was during stunt training, but she’s fine and is in the hospital now…”

Everyone was encouraged to visit if they could or send their well wishes. 

Ewan’s mind reeled. Fine? What the hell does that mean? Fine could be a scratch or it could be… Fuck.

He read the message over and over until they blurred together. He knew he was willing the words to change like some idiot. You had to be okay. Nothing bad could happen to you.

Phia had just casually dropped the bombshell. She might as well have said, “Hey, how is everyone, good? Oh, by the way, she almost died but it’s cool.”

Ewan knew none of it was Phia’s fault, but that didn’t stop him from feeling an overwhelming irritation. What did ‘fine’ even mean? If he threw his phone across the room like he wanted, would that be fine?

He felt nauseous with worry as he dialled whoever he could – anyone who might give him more than just that damn word. Time went by torturously slowly, the only thing repeating in his head was the image of you – broken, unconscious, or worse – until Phia finally confirmed that it wasn’t life-threatening. 

He had to calm down, according to her. You are being taken care of, and are set to make a swift recovery.

But even then, it wasn’t enough.

Because it was you.

“Love… you’re awake.”

Sitting beside your hospital bed, Ewan gets a good look at you – finally awake but still too fragile for his liking. He hadn’t slept properly, and he feels like a whole mess. 

You blink slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Ewan?”

He feels like breathing again after being underwater for far too long. He can’t help the awkward smile that tugs at his lips. “Hey, darling. You look like you just fought a dragon.”

You start to laugh, but it quickly turns into a wince, and you relax back into the pillow. “Oh, jeez, don’t make me laugh. My head hurts.”

He quickly reaches for the glass of water on your bedside table and offers it to you. “Sorry, my bad. I’ll be my usual, stoic, boring self then.”

“You’re never boring, Mitchell.” You roll your eyes, before taking a sip.

He can’t help but watch you closely, as if you might vanish if he looks away. “Phia told the whole cast about your accident in the group chat. Did you know that?” he said, trying to keep things light.

“Oh great,” you mumble. “Did Rhys send one of his motivational selfies?”

“Well,” Ewan smiles. “He did. Said something about you ‘getting back in the saddle’ while he posed with a horse. It was inspirational, honestly.”

Ewan hadn’t felt anything when he saw that, consumed with thoughts of you, but now he feels free to let amusement wash over him. Now that he’s with you.

You roll your eyes again, softly smiling. “Of course he did. Well, I appreciate it.”

You are okay, which means Ewan is okay.

He knows just how in love he is with you. Even though you’d broken things off for his sake, even though the boundaries had blurred. Then friends with benefits. No strings. Except those strings had tightened around both of you, slowly suffocating the pretense until it collapsed. And now here you both were – again. With the issue of his PR looming like a goddamn stormcloud, and there is no running from it. 

He clears his throat. “You scared the hell out of me, you know?”

Your expression softens as you look at him. “I’m sorry. But I’m okay, really.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unruly dark blonde hair. “I didn’t know what I’d find when I got here. And Phia, bless her, has a knack for delivering life-altering news like she’s talking about what she had for breakfast.”

“She means well.” You smile, shaking your head.

“Yeah, darling, but next time, let’s just skip the part where you end up in a hospital bed, okay?” He reaches for your hand, his voice wavering slightly. He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

“Deal.” You give his hand a playful shake, but your tone is sincere. 

Ewan glances down, his jaw tightening. He wants to ask if things can finally go back to the way they were – to you being his. He’s already yours anyway. 

But instead, he swallows hard and forces a lighthearted tone. “You know, if I had been there to teach you how to ride the Buck, then this never would have happened.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really, Mitchell? I’m pretty sure you almost got thrown off once.”

Ewan scoffs, giving you his best offended look. “Almost doesn’t count, darling. I’ve practically mastered it now. I do ride the biggest and fiercest dragon in the realm, remember?”

“I said don’t make me laugh,” you say, giving him a pointed look. 

He leans forward, his smirk widening. “I’m just saying. I could’ve saved you from all the stale hospital food. I mean – ” There’s a familiar flicker in his expression. With his head tilted downward, he looks at you through his eyelashes. “ – I have seen you ride, and you’ve got skill, but you do need my help.”

Your mouth falls open at his audacity. “Mitchell! When have you been this smug?”

“Only you have seen the full range of my talents,” he teased.

“Oh really?” you counter. “I did hit my head, so maybe I forgot all about them.”

“Recover quick, and I can jog your memory.”

He can feel the pull – he’d always felt it – and the familiar ache creeps back into his chest, stronger than ever. He wants to reach for you and close the gap. But instead, he buries it beneath a smirk.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. I’ll even throw in a few tricks. You know, to keep things interesting.”

“You said it, Mitchell,” you snort softly.

His gaze lingers on you, and the playful banter stalls, replaced by something heavier. And before he can stop himself, he leans close, hovering over you. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, darling,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You don’t respond, but you don’t need to. The way you look at him, the way your eyes soften, says enough. He hesitates for just a moment, his hand brushing gently against yours before he leans in further.

Gently, he presses his lips to your forehead, the touch light and lingering. When he pulls back, his face is close to yours, his gaze searching as if he is waiting for something. An answer. A sign. Anything to tell him where this was going.

There is something in your expression that seems like the same yearning that he has been unable to fight for so long.

“I’ll be here,” he whispers, the heavy significance of the words settling. “Whenever you need me.”

It’s your third morning at the hospital, when Phia, Liv and Tom burst into your room like a gust of fresh air, their loud voices echoing out in the hall.

Phia’s holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers – so big it practically obscures her face – while Liv balances a tray of coffees, her smile bright and warm. Tom walks in last with a massive balloon arrangement, the centre one reading GET WELL SOON in neon colours. 

“Look who’s alive and kicking!” Tom announces, waving the balloons around. “For a while there, we thought Alyna was going to have to be recast!”

Liv elbows him sharply in the ribs, then sets the coffees down on your bedside. “Tom, honestly.”

You can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face. “Yeah, right. As if there could ever be a better Alyna.”

Ewan sits by your bed, arms crossed, watching the group with quiet amusement. But the second Phia notices him, she arches a brow and points at him with a no-nonsense look. “Mitchell. Go home. Shower. Sleep. You look like death cooked over.”

Ewan’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth to protest, but Phia cuts him off with a stern glare. “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

He glances down at you, his expression conflicted, but you give him a small, tired nod. “You probably should. You’ve been here the whole time.”

Ewan hesitates, but then sighs, resigned. “Alright. But I’ll be back soon, darling.”

Phia nods, pleased. “Good. And don’t come back until you’ve slept at least eight hours… darling.”

Ewan shoots her a mock glare, then leans down toward you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “See you in a few hours,” he murmurs softly, his voice just for you.

You nod, watching as he leaves the room, your heart sinking just a little. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Phia turns to you with a smirk. “He’s so whipped.”

Your cheeks flush instantly. “He’s just… worried.”

“Worried?” Tom scoffs, dropping into a chair beside Phia. “Right. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“Please,” Liv chimes in, smiling knowingly. “He’s been practically glued to your side since you woke up.”

You shift uncomfortably, trying to deflect. “Yeah, well, after everything, we’re just… friends.”

Phia arches a brow. “Friends? You guys stopped being just friends since the age of the fucking dinosaurs, doll.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Liv interrupts, sliding you a cup of water from the tray. “Alright, we’ll stop harassing you – for now. Let’s talk birthday plans instead.”

At the mention of birthdays, guilt twists in your stomach. Ewan’s birthday had been in March, just a few weeks ago. You had known, but with the mess of the overall situation, it had slipped by.

“I completely forgot his birthday,” you murmur, the guilt weighing heavy. “I should’ve done something.”

Liv squeezes your hand gently. “You’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m sure he understands.”

Tom leans forward with a grin. “That’s why we’ve got a plan to make up for it. Joint birthday bash.”

Phia nods, her eyes twinkling. “For Ewan, Fabien, and Freddie. We’re thinking a trip to Spain, some villa, maybe a pool party, lots of sunshine. It’ll be a proper holiday for everyone.”

“Wait, what?” You blink, surprised by the sudden reveal of such an elaborate plan.

Liv grins. “Yeah. We’ve already started organising it. It’ll be in mid April, just after you’re up and moving again. A real joint celebration for the three of them.”

Tom gestures grandly. “Fabien’s excited. Lord Freddie’s thrilled to be celebrated, you know how he is. Ewan – well, he doesn’t know yet, cause all he thinks about is you.”

The idea sounds incredible – a break in Spain with the cast, a chance to relax and celebrate together. Especially after your on-set slipup. But the more they talk, the more conflicted you feel. Being in the same place with both Ewan and Matty… would be something indeed. 

Ewan is still to be in a carefully curated PR relationship, all for the sake of his movie. You dislike it, though you understand it, that relentless Hollywood game of optics. But the thought of spending time with him at a secluded villa in Spain – away from cameras, prying eyes, and staged appearances – sends your heart racing. You know Ewan. He’d see it as an opportunity. A chance to be close to you, to slip back into old habits, to erase the distance that the PR relationship has forced between you.

There would be no cameras, no script to follow – just the two of you in the same space, and you already know what that would lead to.

The memory of the masquerade ball is still fresh in your mind. That one night, where the lines had blurred so easily. You’d been wrapped in the heat of his arms, the press of his body against yours, the intoxicating thrill of being with him without anyone knowing.

And then there is Matty. Sweet Matty who is too charming for his own good. You had started seeing him casually, trying to convince yourself you could make it work, and you can’t deny the pull he has on you. How easy it all could be. Being with him feels like standing with the warm embrace of sunshine. 

You love Ewan. You want Matty. Thousands of girls would scramble to be in your position – the one who captured the boys’ affections. You, the one lying there in a hospital gown, with a broken ankle and head gauze.

So glamorous. So desirable. 

Tom’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. “So, Spain. Swimming, sunbathing, a giant villa – what do you think?”

You blink, catching up to the conversation. “I think… I’m in.”

Phia grins widely. “Good. Ewan’ll be thrilled you’re coming.”

Liv smiles. “We thought the party could be a way for everyone to unwind, you included. No pressure.”

No pressure. But you know there is pressure – at least, there is for you. You’ve been avoiding it, dancing around the feelings you can’t admit to yourself, let alone to Ewan. And Matty – kind, supportive Matty, who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in your mess.

“Yeah, no pressure,” you say softly, but the words feel hollow.

Phia stands up suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Alright, enough of this emotional nonsense. Let’s talk logistics – birthday cake! We’re doing three layers, one for each of the boys.”

Tom dryly says, “I offered to get Martha to bake it, but we decided against it because her specialty is burnt-charcoal waffles.”

Phia shoots him a deadpan look. “They were practically concrete. Love her though!”

Liv laughs, shaking her head. “We’ll leave the cake to the professionals, thanks.”

As the conversation shifts to party details and farfetched ideas, your mind drifts. You try to stay focused, but your thoughts keep circling back to the same place – Spain, the party, Ewan and Matty. The idea of being around them for days, in a relaxed holiday setting, feels both exciting and terrifying. 

You know it’s not just a party. It’s a ticking time bomb.

Ewan’s footsteps echo in the sterile hospital hallway, his grip tight on the bouquet he’s brought for you – your favourite flowers, carefully chosen. As per Phia’s orders, he had gone home and slept a good 10 hours, being more exhausted than he must have realised. The day after, going back to you was the only thing that came to mind, and he was out the door in no time.

As he rounds the corner toward your room, his steps falter at the sight of someone else approaching. 

Matt.

His tall frame is impossible to miss. He saunters down the hall from the opposite direction, holding a similar bouquet in one hand and a gift bag in the other. Ewan feels the tension twisting in his stomach as Matt’s eyes meet his across the corridor. 

For a moment, the hallway falls into an eerie silence, the air thick with an unspoken challenge. Neither of them says a word as they approach the door to your room at almost the same time, both armed with flowers, both here for you. 

“Ewan,” Matt greets first, his voice low, almost amused.

Ewan nods, keeping his expression neutral. “Matt.”

Ewan’s eyes flick to the flowers in Matt’s hand, and a bitter taste rises in his throat. Matt isn’t just another visitor, he’s the guy who’s been with you while Ewan is forced to sit on the sidelines. 

“You’re here again,” Matt comments, breaking the silence. “Not that I’m surprised.” 

Ewan raises an eyebrow. “And why wouldn’t I be? She needs support.”

Matt’s eyes narrow slightly, and his smile is tight. “I get that. But I’m here now too. She’s got plenty of support.”

Ewan feels a flicker of annoyance, his grip tightening on the bouquet. “You think that’s all it is? Just showing up with flowers and pretending you know what she needs?”

Matt’s jaw clenches, but he keeps his cool. He knows better than to cause a scene in the middle of a public hallway. “And you think you’re the only one who cares about her? The only one who knows her? She and I – we’ve been spending plenty of time together. I’ve got some idea of what she needs.”

The possessiveness in Matt’s tone is unmistakable, and it sets Ewan on edge. He steps closer, his eyes locked on Matt’s. “You’ve only been dating her for a few weeks, mate. But we’ve been through things that you couldn’t even begin to understand.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your history. But let’s be real – if you were so good for her, why’d she end things with you? Why’s she with me now?”

Ewan feels a sharp pang at the reminder, but he doesn’t back down. “If you think things are over between me and her, then you’re mistaken. It will never be over. Maybe you’re a convenience. Someone for the moment.”

Matt takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “A convenience? Right. I don’t see you making any moves to change the situation. You’ve been content to sit back and watch while I’ve been with her. Maybe you’re the one who’s convenient, yeah?”

Ewan’s jaw tightens, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows Matt’s right, in a way – he’s been stuck, unable to break free from the PR relationship that’s kept him and you apart. But that doesn’t make what Matt’s saying any easier to swallow.

“The way I see it, you’re just a distraction,” Ewan says, his voice sharp, laced with bitterness, “a way for her to forget what she really wants.”

Matt’s eyes flash with anger now, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And what she really wants is you, is that it? Tell me, Ewan, if you’re so sure she’s still in love with you, why hasn’t she said anything? Why hasn’t she kicked me to the curb and come running back?”

The words hit harder than Ewan expects, and for a moment, he falters. He knows you still love him – he can see it in the way you look at him, the way you can never quite let go. But Matt’s right. You haven’t made a choice. And now here they are, two men standing in a hallway, both fighting for something that feels just out of reach.

Ewan steps even closer. “You think just because you’re in the picture now, I’m going to step aside and let you have her? Not a fucking chance, mate.”

Matt takes a deep breath in an attempt to collect himself. It’s clear to him that Ewan isn’t going to loosen up easily. Especially not when he’s being provoked. “I’m not asking you to step aside. But unless she tells me otherwise, I’ll keep showing up. So maybe you should get used to that.”

Ewan looks away, his voice lowering. “We… both… care about her. I’m not denying that. But don’t fool yourself. She hasn’t made her choice yet.”

“Maybe she hasn’t.” Matt holds his gaze. “But I’m here, and I’m willing to wait. Are you?”

The hallway feels suffocating, the weight of their words heavy in the air. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ewan speaks again, his voice softer but no less intense.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Matt nods once. “Neither am I.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, the unspoken agreement settling between them. It’s a temporary truce, but they both know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Finally, they turn toward your room, the door looming in front of them like a gateway to another battle. Ewan’s heart pounds as he pushes the door open, stepping inside, with Matt close behind.

You’re awake, sitting up slightly in bed, looking both surprised and nervous as you see the two of them enter together.

“Well, this is… unexpected,” you say, your voice tinged with humour as your eyes dart between the two men.

“Hey,” Matt says with an easy smile, walking over to place his flowers on the table by your bed. “Thought I’d stop by, check in on you.”

Ewan follows suit, setting his bouquet down next to Matt’s, though his gaze stays fixed on you. “And I came back, as promised.”

“Funny that you show up at the same time.” You glance between them, your brow raising. 

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly plan it.”

Ewan forces a smile, trying to keep things light. “Just making sure you’re not causing any more trouble, darling.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I’m definitely the troublemaker here.”

Ewan sinks into the chair by your bed while Matt leans against the windowsill, arms crossed. For a brief moment, it almost feels normal. Almost.

“Phia mentioned Spain,” Matt says after a beat, his voice casual, but there’s an edge to his tone. “The birthday trip.”

You nod eagerly. “The joint birthday for the lads.” Your eyes flicker to Ewan. “I feel terrible for missing your birthday last month.”

Ewan shakes his head, his expression softening. “You had a lot going on. Don’t worry about it.”

The casual mention of his birthday tugs at your heartstrings. You hadn’t forgotten exactly, but things had been so complicated. Now, though, guilt gnaws at you.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say sincerely, looking at Ewan, and the way his eyes hold yours makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, the villa should be fun,” Matt chimes in, but there’s something sharp in his tone. “But we have to be sure you’re in tip top shape first, love.”

“I’ll be the one in the bikini and a leg cast,” you joke. 

The conversation drifts into lighter topics – memories of on-set pranks, silly cast antics – but there’s an underlying tension, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. It’s almost like watching a film in slow motion, each moment dragging longer than it should, with none of you willing to say what you’re really thinking.

After a while, Ewan checks his phone, his brows knitting together. He glances at you, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. “Darling, I need to head out. I’ve got a meeting with my manager to sort out the filming schedule.”

You nod in understanding. “You did leave LA pretty quickly. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

Ewan’s gaze softens. “It’s not trouble,” he says quietly. “Not when it’s for you.”

As he walks to the door, he pauses and looks back at you, his expression unreadable. He hesitates, then takes a few steps back toward the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. The gesture is tender, and it leaves a warmth in its wake that lingers long after he’s gone.

“Rest up, darling,” he murmurs before turning to leave.

You’re left with Matt, the silence between you more comfortable and less tense than it was with Ewan. He moves from his spot by the window and sits down in the chair Ewan just vacated. He offers you a gentle smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “He cares about you a lot, you know,” he says.

“I know,” you reply softly.

Matt smirks, his cheekiness resurfacing. “Almost as much as I do.”

The atmosphere eases after that, Matt joking about the cast’s upcoming trip to Spain, trying to make you laugh. After a while, your body begins to give in to exhaustion, your eyes growing heavy. He notices and encourages you to rest, and you doze off before long, the soft hum of his voice lulling you to sleep. 

But just as you slip into that hazy space between wakefulness and dreaming, you hear Matt’s voice again, quieter now, like he’s talking to himself. Or maybe to you, thinking you’re already asleep.

“I know you still love him,” he says softly, the words almost painful to hear. “I can see it every time you look at him. It’s obvious.”

Your heart tightens in your chest, but you keep your breathing steady, pretending to stay asleep.

“I don’t blame you,” Matt continues, his voice rough with emotion. “He’s good for you, isn’t he? You’ve got history. I knew what I was getting into when we started this… whatever this is. But I can’t help it. I see myself falling in love with you, and it terrifies me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your eyes burn behind your closed lids. You want to say something, anything, but you don’t. You lie there, frozen, letting Matty’s confession hang in the air between you.

“You don’t have to choose me,” Matt whispers, almost as if he’s resigned to his fate. “But I… I certainly wouldn’t mind it if you do, love.” He laughs bitterly at the end, then turns serious once more. “We could… we could be happy.”

His voice cracks slightly, and it takes everything in you not to react. You hadn’t realised just how much this meant to him, how deeply he felt. He always seemed so easygoing, so casual, and now you see that there was more beneath the surface. So much more.

You lie still, pretending to sleep, as Matt gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be here, if you want me,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. 

You chose yourself, selfish as it might have been, and you would make the same decision again if given the chance. You needed to do that; you owed it to yourself. You also sought companionship and a shot at happiness with him. But that hadn’t been final. 

No matter who it will be in the end, someone’s heart is going to break. 

Your ankle is forgotten, your concussion a trifling thing.

Because the weight of that choice is a much heavier burden to bear.

The villa in Spain is like something out of a dream, nestled in the rolling hills of Mallorca. Its white stone walls gleam against the deep blue backdrop of the Mediterranean, the ocean stretching endlessly in the distance. The courtyard is lined with blooming florals and tall cypress trees. It’s the kind of place that makes you forget about the rest of the world, even if just for a moment, and let go of everything that’s complicated and heavy.

But not for Ewan, who sits alert under the shade of a large patio umbrella by the pool, clad in only his navy blue swim trunks. His sunglasses are perched on his nose, as he pretends to read a script – his attention is elsewhere. 

They track you, where you’re surrounded by the girls, all of them fussing over you like a flock of mother hens. Your fracture boot is propped up on the sun chair, crutches leaning nearby. 

Ewan smiles to himself when you laugh at something Liv says, your face lighting up completely. He's relieved that you’re able to relax after everything. But underneath that relief is something else – something that coils even tighter every time he glances at Matt nearby.

Matt’s never far, either. Ewan notices it. Of course, he notices. How could he not? The way Matt hovers just on the edge of the group, never too close to seem overbearing but always there. It’s the same thing Ewan’s doing, and it’s infuriating because he knows exactly what it means. 

Ewan watches as a shirtless Matt hands you a cold drink, his hand brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. You look up, smile gratefully at him, and Ewan feels the sharp sting of it, like a jab to the ribs. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to look away, his grip tightening on the already tattered script in his hands.

“Mitchell, my boy,” Freddie says, plopping down in the chair beside him. “You’ve clearly got a thousand-yard stare going on underneath those shades. You alright?”

Ewan shrugs, trying to play it off. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

Freddie is unconvinced, but he doesn’t push. “It’s our celebration in paradise, mate. You should think about getting a drink in you. Pretend to have fun before Tom ropes us all into some ridiculous pool game.”

Ewan huffs a laugh, grateful for the distraction, but it’s short-lived. His eyes drift back to you, watching as Phia ties a sun hat around your head, joking about protecting ‘the merchandise,’ while Liv adjusts the chair to make sure you’re comfortable. You’re surrounded by care, by laughter, and yet… Ewan can’t shake the need to be near you. To be the one making sure you’re alright.

He hates the way Matt looks at you, like he’s got some claim, like he knows what’s best for you. He doesn’t know you. Not like Ewan does. He hasn’t been through the heartbreak, the sleepless nights, the mess of trying to hold it together when everything was falling apart. He hasn’t watched you fight through everything, hasn’t seen the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

Matt is there, sure, but Ewan has been there.

He wants to go over, tell the girls to give you some space, be the one to take care of you himself. But he doesn’t. Not with Matt there, standing just close enough to remind him that you’re not his to take care of. Not anymore. 

“Careful, mate,” Fabien materialises from the side, a drink in hand. “You keep looking at her like that, and it’s gonna get messy.”

“It’s already messy,” Ewan replies, clicking his tongue. He shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the script in front of him, but it’s pointless. He watches as Matt crouches down beside you, leaning in to say something quietly. You laugh, and the sound hits like a white-hot surge to his veins – an instinctual, possessive reaction he can’t suppress. 

Ewan doesn’t want to cause a scene. It’s a holiday, after all – everyone’s in good spirits, and you finally look like you’re getting some much-needed rest.

But before he even realises it, he’s already halfway across the courtyard, his steps brisk and determined. 

“Hey,” Ewan says when he reaches you, his tone light, almost forced. “Mind if I join?”

Matt straightens, settling in the chair next to you. “Well, look who finally decided to come over. Thought you were just going to lurk all day.”

You shift in your chair, adjusting your fracture boot, letting Ewan sit next to your outstretched legs. “I’m fine, by the way. If that’s what this is about.”

The girls are now watching intently in their respective sun chairs, pretending to sip their drinks but clearly enjoying the show. You’re caught between rolling your eyes and laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Ewan casts a quick glance at your ankle boot, the tenderness in his gaze flickering just for a moment before he locks eyes with Matt again. “I’m just making sure you’re not overwhelming her. She might need her space,” he says.

Matt raises an eyebrow, his casual posture not matching the edge in his voice. “Space? Mate, that’s rich coming from the guy who’s crowding her chair right now.”

Phia snorts into her drink, earning a stern look from Liv, but it’s too late. The tension is starting to draw a crowd, and even Fabien and Freddie are craning their necks to watch. Freddie whispers something to Fabien, who laughs, clearly entertained.

Instead of rising to the bait, Ewan exhales sharply and forces a smile. “Just making sure my… friend is comfortable.”

Liv arches an eyebrow. “My god, friend, is it? Please don’t tell me I’m your friend too.”

Emma freely chortles at Liv’s remark, while Phia doubles over in glee.

You interject with a sigh, waving your hands between them. “Okay, enough. I love a good ego battle as much as the next girl, but seriously – this is supposed to be a holiday. Can we not do this?”

“Honestly, you two,” Phia says, “I thought I already made it clear – she’s my girl.”

The tension cracks as the group erupts into laughter, and even Ewan and Matt can’t help but smile. 

“Alright, alright,” Ewan mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Truce. For now.”

Matt smirks, extending a hand mockingly toward Ewan, who rolls his eyes but shakes it briefly before turning his attention back to you. His gaze softens as he catches your eye. “Just… don’t overdo it, yeah?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling. “I’m the one in a boot. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere fast.”

Emma’s enjoying the scene, calmly sipping on their negroni sbagliato. “Honestly, with the way things are unfolding, this drama could end up being better than the show.”

Before anyone can throw in another comment, Ewan’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his trunks. His expression darkens briefly when he glances at the screen. It’s his manager, but she knows not to disturb him on holiday unless it’s urgent. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.” He catches your eye for a brief moment before stepping away.

The world of Hollywood is no stranger to scandal, but this one is poised to shake the industry to its core.

Bruce Haversham, the powerful executive behind some of the biggest film projects in recent decades, had been untouchable at the very top of the mountain. Until now.

The news broke late in the afternoon, first as a whisper across social media before exploding into full-blown coverage on every major network. Accusations of sexual harassment and assault came pouring in, one after the other, each more damning than the last.

By the time the story hit the major outlets, it was clear that Bruce Haversham’s reign was over.

In New York, where he had been arrested, footage of him being escorted from his apartment in handcuffs circulated widely. The headlines were merciless: Hollywood Titan Falls, The End of Bruce Haversham’s Empire, A Predator Unmasked.

For Ewan, this is more than just a story on the evening news. It’s personal.

It was Bruce who masterminded the PR relationship that drove a wedge between Ewan and the one he truly loves. 

Now, everything changes. Bruce Haversham is out. Effective immediately. 

The path ahead wouldn’t be easy – far from it – but now, at least it is a path Ewan can walk freely. 

His mind races as he drops the call, the flood of information almost too much to process at once. Talk about a late birthday gift.

The relief hit him fast, like a cool rush of air. But it is immediately followed by something else – confusion, uncertainty. What now? What does this mean for him, and for you?

Matt had swooped in, offering you comfort and companionship, complicating things further. He cares about you, Ewan knows that. And from the outside, it makes sense – you and Matt seem good together. 

But Ewan knows better. Deep down, he is certain – absolutely sure – that what you and he shared isn’t just good. It was right. You and him… you are perfect together.

Ewan’s free from his strings, and all bets are off. 

It’s all or nothing this time. 

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

The rest of the holiday will take up most of part 12! Ewan can actually properly enjoy himself now 😉

Don't think it'll be that easy! Darling's tied to Matty too, in a way. And after that confession? Damn it, Matthew, you sly loverboy you.

How far will Ewan go? And will Matty double down on his efforts? It's all chemical. It's all overriding. 🤷🏻‍♀️💙

[rae-writes]

Changes

multifandom || 0.6k || situationship to relationship

After you called off the arrangement, he. . .

Doesn’t last more than a few days without you — he wasn’t cut out for this ‘casual, no feelings’ kinda thing anyway; doesn’t know what to do with himself now that you aren’t around and is an absolute mess because he is hopelessly in love with you and has been for awhile. Knows he should’ve confessed sooner and spends an ungodly amount of time trying to figure out how to confess before ultimately just showing up at your door out of the blue and word vomiting everything that comes to mind. It’s frantic and jumbled, but he ends it with a firm- yet panicked- ‘I love you!’. After either laughing or tearing up a little, you [adoringly] shut him up with a kiss and let him really ask you out when he’s calmed down. 

↳ IZUKU MIDORIYA, Kirishima Eijiro, BACHIRA MEGURU, Yoichi Isagi, REO MIKAGE, SAKURA HARUKA, Umemiya Hajime, NIREI AKIHIKO, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, Edgar A. Poe, Chuuya Nakahara (hear me out), GENYA SHINAGUZAWA, Tanjiro Kamado, RENGOKU KYOJURO, NARUTO UZUMAKI, Itachi Uchiha

Doesn’t last more than a few weeks without you — he really tried to ignore the aching feelings that washed over him like a wave every time he remembered that he didn’t have you anymore: but he was stubborn. Stupidly stubborn and stupidly in love. As the weeks start to pile up, he can’t take it— he’s tried to move on, but he couldn’t even stand getting close to anyone, much less get past mindless flirting. It made him sick because it wasn’t you. Shows up at your door early in the morning one day, in the pouring rain, and gets on his knees, begging for you to forgive him and take him back and so many other rushed confessions that his voice ends up cracking by the time he says ‘I-I love you!’. He’s only placated when you cup his cheek, noting that he wasn’t usually like this and that you could talk it out, but he doesn’t miss the grin on your face.

↳ KATSUKI BAKUGO, Tomura Shigaraki, KEIGO TAKAMI, NAGI SEISHIRO, Shidou Ryusei, RIN ITOSHI, Endo Yamato, JO TOGAME,  DAZAI OSAMU, Tachihara Michizou, Ranpo Edogawa, SHIKAMARU NARA, KAKASHI HATAKE

Doesn’t last a year without you — He was blunt with his intentions from the start: physical, no feelings. It’s how he did things and he had a reputation to prove it. He didn’t bank on actually falling for you, though, so when you left, he took it in stride. His habits continued…but for some reason, it made him angry any time he heard your name. He wasn’t used to the pit in his chest, so naturally, he vented it out on other trysts. Months had passed and his friends kept pointing out how he didn’t really seem happy anymore— and then they dropped a bombshell. You were seen on a date with some other guy. He seethes for weeks, punching holes in his walls, driving way too fast down the freeways, and he still didn’t know why! But then he finds an old video in his snap memories of you laughing and lying over him half naked, pressing kisses all over his face. And that’s how he found himself meeting you outside your door after you’d gotten dropped off from your nth date and at first he didn’t know what to say, but then the apology came and the stinging of his eyes and a choked, gruff confession that he fucking loves you goddamnit, and he knows he was a dumb dick, but he’s ready to beg to start over with you. Do it right from the start. The hug you both share is ‘end of the world’ desperate, but it gives him hope. He’ll be a good man. For you. 

↳ SAE ITOSHI, Post!WildCard Kunigami Rensuke, TAKIISHI CHIKA, Dark Era/Beast!Dazai Osamu, SANEMI SHINAGUZAWA, SASUKE UCHIHA (or any of our other emotionally stunted boys, my mind was blanking <3)

[xx-like-a-villian-xx]

I Hate You | Two

Here is part two! Thank you for all of your support on the first part. Enjoy!

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in future posts :)

CW: smut, jealous Noah and Reader, angry sex, possessive Noah, Noah is a munch, P in V unprotected sex, hair pulling, sneaking around, feelings (lots of feelings), alcohol consumption (but not much), let me know if I missed anything.

taglist: @concreteburialplot @lyschko666

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

Fuck this.

Noah was playing a dangerous fucking game and you were just about ready to grab him by the hair and drag him out of the damn club in front of everyone, or maybe scream in his fucking face.

It was the end of tour and of course you were celebrating at some fancy club, it was tradition. The issue? Well Noah had some blonde bombshell in his lap that had basically pounced on him the moment you walked in.

Sure, you weren’t dating, ew, why would you want to date Noah? He’s a piece of shit. But you couldn’t contain the anger boiling inside your blood at the sight. Her hands were all over him, making the same journey that yours did in the venue shower after the last show and the thought made you want to vomit.

Fucking asshole.

”Everything okay, Y/N? You’ve hardly touched your drink.” Jolly slid onto the barstool next to you, beer in hand.

Dragging your eyes away from the torturous scene in front of you, you smiled half heartedly, taking a sip of your vodka soda. “Yeah, just tired.”

When your eyes dropped back to Noah, Jolly’s followed and he rolled his eyes knowingly. Of course he knew about the little cat and mouse chase situationship you had with Noah, everyone did by that point except your brother (but he was oblivious to most things). No matter how much you pretended to hate each other, they could practically taste the sexual tension in the air whenever you were in the same room and the fact that they could never find you both just sealed it.

“How much are you betting that he takes her back to the hotel?” Jolly wanted to add salt to the wound, get under your skin to see if you’d actually do something other than pine after the guy.

Act cool. Act casual.

”Eh, I think she’s a bit too forward for his liking.” You finished your drink and stood from your seat.

Jolly watched you walk towards the bar, watching how your hips sway with each step and his eyes darted to Noah who was staring back at him with fiery eyes. Oh. Funny. Jolly smirked to himself. He had a plan and it could end with him receiving a broken nose.

Drinks were flowing and you were dancing with Laura, one of the lighting techs on the cramped dance floor, moving your hips to the loud R&B music. You were feeling less tense now you were away from the quiet area, away from Noah but you could still see him with the blonde out of the corner of your eye.

Your brother was smoking outside with Bryan and Matt. You had no idea where Nicholas was but you could see Jolly eyeing you from the bar and maybe it was the alcohol but there was something in his gaze that made you beckon him towards you.

Jolly’s huge hands were on your hips then, his head buried in your neck as you started to grind your ass against him, throwing your arms back around his neck. You were lost in the music and the heat from his body moving against yours, weightless on the middle of the dance floor. Until you heard the blonde yelp over the music.

”You. Outside, now!” Noah looked furious and your thighs pressed together with need. His face was flushed red, eyes so dark they may as well have been a black abyss. He looked almost demonic and god it was a gorgeous sight.

You looked around him at the blonde who looked utterly flabbergasted at his actions and smirked which Noah noticed, dragging you by the arm out of the busy club.

”What was that?” He had dragged you outside, around the corner where no one would be privy to the conversation.

You shrugged, clicking your tongue. “What was what, Noah? Can’t a girl have a little fun? Seems like you were quite content with blondie, huh?” You spat venomously.

He only caged you against the brick wall, looming over you and you could almost see the flames of rage dancing in his irises. “Don’t do that shit, Y/N.”

You pouted up at him sarcastically. “Oh no, did I upset you? Seems like double standards though doesn’t it? God forbid I dance with a friend while you’re practically making out with someone ten feet away.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not like we’re dating is it?”

You attempted to slide underneath his arm to walk away but he only pulled you back and pressed his body against yours, pulling your face to his with a tight grip. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

Before you could respond his lips were on yours, teeth clashing together as he kissed you hard, with so much ferocity that it made your head spin. His hands were gripping your hips so tight you would feel bruises in the morning and it felt like heaven. Gasping for air, you pulled away, only to whine when his teeth grazed over your throat.

”You’re mine,”

What did he say?

Your fingers gripped the hair at the base of his neck and pulled his head back, a sly smirk dancing across your lips.

”In what world am I yours?” You chuckle darkly.

“Every fucking one of them.” He growled, pressing his lips back to yours.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It didn’t take long for an Uber to arrive and Noah was quick to tell the driver to step on the gas as his hand gripped your thigh possessively. You were back in your hotel room in no time, his body pressed against yours before you could even turn to lock the door.

You were on fire, face burning, thighs pressing together to gain some kind of friction, anything. His huge hands were all over you, fingers finding the hem of your dress to yank it over your head and you couldn’t get enough.

For weeks you had been sneaking around with him, finding yourself being dragged into bathrooms and broom closets after verbally berating each other, catching yourself sending pictures to him just to hear him groan from his bunk like a feral dog. You were obsessed with making him go insane for you, for your body but this felt different.

There was now something else in his touch, something so much more possessive and animalistic that it made your stomach lurch with need and an arousal like no other pool in your underwear, just begging to be quenched.

Fuck, was it feelings? Did you have feelings for Noah Fucking Sebastian? Surely not, right?

”Fuck me, you’re fucking stunning.” His words were gruff, his lips latching to your throat as his hands slid up waist, your stomach, everywhere, finally reaching your bra to slide the straps from your shoulders and pull it down.

His fingers found the hardened peaks on your chest, softly pinching them, pressing his forehead against yours to revel in the gasp that left your lips. His eyes were so dark, almost black, staring down at you with an unhinged lust that had you silently pleading with him to stop the fucking games and fuck you, please.

”Fuck, please.” With a soft moan, you rolled your head back against the wall,

He chuckled darkly. “You’re so fucking needy.”

Before you could retort, he was lifting you, wrapping your legs against his hips just to throw you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your pink thong to pull them down at a pace that was criminally slow.

“Look at you, so fucking wet for me.” His smirk was so cocky and if you weren’t so far gone, you might have used the leg he wasn’t pushing to your chest to kick him.

He settled between your thighs, eyes trained on your dripping cunt, running his tongue over his lips as though he was starving and you practically drooled at the sight, your hands reaching out to latch on to his hair, tugging at the roots.

His tongue darted out to drag a long stripe between your folds, humming in delight at taste before diving in, dark eyes locked onto your face to watch every reaction he was pulling from you. Your back arched off the bed and the moan that left your mouth was filthy, disgusting when his tongue flicked against your clit. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy, his arms pushing your legs up so he could eat you exactly how you needed and it didn’t take long for that burning fire to ignite in the depths of your stomach, legs shaking violently in his hold.

”Oh fuck, I’m gonna c-cum!” You yelped, hands gripping his hair tighter and the growl that escaped him vibrated against your clit, sending you over the edge with a scream.

He lapped at your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore, weakly dragging him up to your face to pull him into a filthy kiss, your tongue licking your own arousal from his mouth. Fuck he tasted so heavenly with you on his lips.

His hands fumbled with his belt as he feverishly kissed you and before you could even catch your breath, he was pushing into you, groaning against your mouth.

”Fuck…” he whined, pressing his forehead against yours to give you a second to adjust. “I can’t get enough of this pussy.”

His hips snapped forward, burying himself so deep inside you that any thoughts in your brain were wiped. His hand slid up to your throat, gripping the sides just enough to make your eyes roll back in your head and he smirked, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

”You take my cock so well.” You whimpered at his words, revelling in how full he made you feel. “It’s like you were made for me.”

”It’s all yours.” God, you really were his, only his, no one could ever make you feel how he did and it was infuriating.

”That’s right, you’re mine.” He gritted, sharply snapping his hips into you, fucking you so deeply you thought you might pass out from the pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him, that warm feeling building up again, tightness pooling in your stomach.

”Are you gonna cum again, greedy girl?” He cooed, earning a brain dead whine from you.

His hand slipped between your bodies and his thumb pressed against your clit, cock hitting you so perfectly against that spot inside you that had you falling apart around him.

The noise that left your mouth as you came violently around his cock could only be described as banshee scream. Fireworks were bursting behind your closed eyes, your back arched so far off the bed, you were sure you looked possessed and god it felt so good.

”Good fucking girl.” Noah pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue dancing with yours. With a whimper against your lips, he pulled out, emptying himself on your stomach.

You couldn’t move. You were so fucked out when he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a wet flannel to clean up your messes. The room was silent when he lay next to you, tracing circles on your stomach.

”Noah, what is this?” You sighed after a while, heart pounding in your chest.

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with soft eyes.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, all those weeks of messing around had changed something in you. All of the hatred had turned into something else, something that tugged at your heart and made your head spin. You fixed your gaze on the ceiling, bracing yourself for the let down.

”I already told you, you’re mine.” He laughed lightly and your eyes snapped to him. “And I think I’m yours. We’re past the point of hiding it.”

”Really?” You gulped. Was he admitting that he wanted you the same way?

”Yes, Y/N. I think I was yours a long time ago.”

You grinned, reaching out to push his messy hair from his forehead. “Mine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Come on, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” Matt rushed around the lobby while everyone else dawdled along, hungover and exhausted from the previous night.

You picked your bag up from the floor, following him out to the bus that was waiting. You hadn’t seen your brother yet which was weird, you guessed that he was still getting his stuff together in his hotel room. When you stepped onto the bus, there you saw him, staring at you with fiery eyes.

“Everything okay, Nick?” You raised an eyebrow, placing your bag next to him on the couch.

His jaw ticked and his eyes darted to the door, watching Noah enter.

”Noah, when were you going to tell me that you’re fucking my sister?”

[ahonice]

just friends

nico hischier x fem reader

word count: 10.9k (the longest fic i’ve ever written i’m so sorry)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy and mentions of unprotected sex, cursing, the word climax, a little angsty, if i forgot anything lmk.

note: i started this on september 1st, this actually took forever. ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoy lmk if you love it, if you hate it, any feedback in general is appreciated!! love y’all babes <3

+++

it was an accident.

you and nico had been in a casual friends with benefits relationship for about a year and a half, having known each other for three years in total, when it happened.

you and nico were being stupid one night. after a few too many drinks, and no condoms to be found anywhere in your apartment, you and nico fucked without protection. 

you were on birth control and nico had pulled out, well he did halfway through his climax.

you didn’t think anything when you didn’t get your period the following month or the two months after that, you hadn’t had a period in four years thanks to your birth control. 

for weeks you thought you were just bloated, maybe you had been eating too much lately. you were much hungrier these past couple of weeks, it made sense.

it wasn’t until you threw up eleven times in one week before ten in the morning that you grew suspicious and worried at the possibility of you being pregnant. 

you stopped by the drug store on your way home from work and panic bought nine different pregnancy tests. 

you drank seven things of water during the day and took no bathroom breaks in preparation for this moment, and you had never been so scared to get test results back.

positive. every single one of them.

you felt faint, like the walls of your tiny studio apartment were caving in on you. 

you couldn’t have a baby, you couldn’t be a mother, it just couldn’t happen.

+++

the first thing you had to do was tell nico.

you and nico weren’t exclusive, and while he probably has his fair share of hookups, you did not. he was the only possible candidate for the father. 

nico was currently three days into an eight day road trip, and as much as you wanted to just get it over with, you knew this is not the type of bombshell to be dropped via snapchat or imessage, considering you two only used imessage to play game pigeon and the nature of your saved snaps was not welcome to an “i’m pregnant and you’re the father” chat.

you decided to just text him that you needed to talk when he got back.

to: nico (hookup)

hey lmk when you’re back in newark, we need to talk.

from: nico (hookup)

oh? 

from: nico (hookup)

everything okay?

to: nico (hookup)

not quite sure yet.

+++

five days later you found yourself at nico’s door, nine positive pregnancy tests in a ziploc bag in your purse. you were shaking, you don’t think you had ever been this nervous in your entire life.

nico opened up the door with a wide smile. you didn’t know what face you were making, but it was enough to make nico’s face fall and worry come through his tone of voice.

“y/n? what’s wrong?”

you didn’t even register his words, you just moved past him into his apartment and sat down on his couch.

“y/n?”

“i’m pregnant.”

the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

nico sat there frozen on the loveseat as you pulled the pregnancy tests out of your purse.

around three minutes later you pulled your phone out and opened up some home makeover game, nico was still frozen.

“-oh and you’re the father but you probably already know that.”

+++

it was around four minutes later when nico finally opened up his mouth to speak.

“what are you going to do?”

his question made me a little angry, yes he wasn’t entirely at fault, but he could’ve at least taken

a little responsibility and said “we” instead of “you”.

“i don’t know yet, i have an appointment with an obgyn on saturday. i’ll learn about my options there.”

“what time?” nico asked, opening up his phone calendar.

“10:30.” you knew that nico had practice at that time because it was a game day. “you have practice, i’ll just let you know what i decide to do.”

“this is my child too, i want to be a part of the decision making.”

“well you’re not going to be the one taking care of them, i am.”

“what makes you think that? i mean obviously i will be on the road at times during the season, but when we’re on homestands and since we’ll be married we’ll have the off season together-”

“woah take a girl out to dinner before you propose nico.” you interrupted. “we aren’t getting married…” “we’ve done a whole lot more than just dinner, and yes we are? how are we supposed to raise this baby together if we aren’t together.”

“have you ever heard of co-parenting? -also who says i’m keeping it, i haven’t made my decision yet.” you get up from your spot on his couch. “look i have to go, i’ll tell you about my appointment tomorrow.”

nico let out a heavy sigh. “don’t make any decisions without me.”

+++

“y/n?” 

you looked up at the nurse who was holding the door open with their body and walked up to greet her, your knees slightly wobbling from the nerves running through you.

“please follow me into room two, i’m just gonna get your vitals.”

you stayed silent as she took your blood pressure and checked your reflexes, you had to take a moment to calm yourself down after you saw your weight, you had freaked out before you remembered that there was currently another being inside of you.

“alright your vitals look good.” the nurse spoke before exiting the room. “follow me into this room, you can go ahead and take a seat on the bed in the center of the room. the doctor should be in shortly.”

you nodded and thanked her before she exited and you took a look around the room, taking a few mirror selfies to send to the family group chat. you had told all of your immediate relatives over facetime on your way back from nico’s yesterday, the news was received better than you had planned so you couldn’t say anything about your mom’s comments on being a grandmother, she made it very clear she was on team “keep the baby and be a badass single mom in the city”.

you sat on the bed/chair thing, ripping the paper instantly as you tried to get comfortable.

you took your eyes off your phone as you heard a series of knocks.

“miss y/n?”

“yes, that’s me.”

“hi, i’m dr.swarn i’ll be assisting you today. is this your first ultrasound?” the middle aged woman asked.

“yes it is.”

“and do you know how far along you are?”

“i’m assuming three to four months…i just found out yesterday…”

“well we will find out today.” the doctor began getting the sonograph ready as you attempted to mentally prepare yourself. “-and i have to ask…the father, is he in the picture?”

“he is, but it’s complicated…we aren’t together.”

the doctor simply nodded before asking you to lift up your shirt and warning you that the gel might be cold.

after a few moments, a grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, dr. swarn pointing things out. “-and this is your baby! it is a couple weeks too early to figure out the gender, so i would estimate that you are about four months pregnant.” 

you didn’t really focus on anything she said though, all your attention was on that tiny blob.

“do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

as dr.swarn began to turn up the volume the door swung open.

a very out of breath and sweaty nico stood in the door frame, bent over catching his breath.

“sorry i’m late!” nico walked up towards where you were lying on the table and smiled up at the doctor. “i’m the father.”

dr.swarn smiled at him before speaking. “well you made it just in time, we were just about to listen to the heartbeat.”

she had the screen turned towards her so nico had yet to see the baby. “this is your baby-” dr.swarn turned the screen back towards you and nico. “and this is their heartbeat.”

it was like everything around you had disappeared and all you knew was the image of your baby and the sound of their heartbeat. nico grabbed your hand and effectively pulled you out of the trance you were in.

“would you like me to discuss your options with you?” dr.swarn asked, turning the heartbeat down.

“no, i’m keeping it.”

+++

you got a recording of the heartbeat and got a couple prints of the ultrasound before exiting the doctors office, nico getting the same things as you.

“so you’re actually gonna keep it?” nico asked once he had walked you to your car.

“yes i am, and i don’t expect you to be involved at all if you don’t want to…i can do this on my own.”

“well you won’t have to.” nico started. “move into my apartment.”

you sighed, but nico spoke again before you could. “look we don’t have to get married right away, just move in…we will see how things go from there.”

“nico- i’m not moving in with you, i am perfectly fine living in my apartment and so is the baby.” you didn’t mean for your tone to come off so harsh, well you did a little bit, but you didn’t want nico thinking that you would be getting together just because of your child together. “look nico, i know that you believe that to raise a child the mother and father need to be together but i don’t and i don’t want to be with someone just because people think we have to. i will not be having a shotgun wedding.”

“what is a shotgun wedding?”

“-it does matter. we are not getting together nico.” you got into the driver's seat of your car. “i don’t really know how this co-parenting shit works, and i’m assuming you don’t either so let’s just make sure to be patient with one another, okay?”

nico nodded before you said your goodbyes and drove off in the direction of your apartment.

+++

around two weeks later as you sat in your little cubicle your phone started ringing.

nico (hookup)

you sighed and saved the progress on your current project before picking up the phone.

“hello?”

“hey, are you home right now?”

“no, it’s two in the afternoon on a thursday. i’m at work.”

“oh i didn’t think you would work while pregnant…” “i need to fund this child’s life somehow.”

there was an awkward silence for a few moments before you spoke up again.

“did you need something nico?”

“well i called to ask if you would like to come over for dinner tonight.”

“what are you making? because i don’t mean to sound rude, but this child doesn’t like anything i cook and you’re much worse than me.”

“hey i’m not that bad!” you both chuckle before nico speaks again. “is there anything you’re craving right now?”

“jiggly cheesecake and that gouda mac n cheese with sausage i got when we went to new york two years ago.”

“okay i can’t make any of that.”

“just make whatever you want, i’ll force it down if the baby doesn’t like it. what time should i come over?”

“5:30?”

“okay, i’ll just come straight from work.”

you said your goodbyes before you go back to your work.

+++ 

once the clock struck 4:45 you called it a day and headed out to your car before driving to nico’s apartment.

you knocked on the door, a tad bit confused because you heard multiple voices on the other side of the door, if it wasn’t for the welcome mat on the outside that you had forced nico to get you would’ve thought you were at the wrong door.

“hey.” nico opened the door, the voices only getting louder.

“hey…are other people joining us…?” you asked, looking around his apartment confused.

“yeah i probably should've mentioned-”

nico had begun to speak, but a voice that you knew as nico’s mother. “is y/n here!?” soon you saw her smiling faces coming towards you with open arms. “oh come here, it’s been too long sweetie!”

god bless your work bag that seemed to span to five feet because it was hiding your baby bump that was very noticeable in your blouse.

“hello mrs.hischier, how are you?” you asked politely, but you were really wanting to strangle nico right now.

“i’m great! luca and nina are here too!”

“oh that’s great! i’ll go see them in a second, i just need to talk to nico really quickly.”

you smiled as she walked away before turning to nico and gave him a swift slap on the backside of his head. “are you crazy!? did you just ambush a pregnancy announcement on me!?”

“look, i know this probably wasn’t the best way to approach this, but my family needs to know.”

“i am fully aware of that, but this is something that you plan out, not something you spring on a pregnant woman!”

“i’m sorry! just- let’s go into the living room, nina really misses you.”

you had met nico’s family multiple times before and were especially close with his sister nina, she was the only one who knew of you and nico’s odd relationship and was the number one supporter of you two getting together.

you walked out, your work bag still covering yourself as you greeted luca and nina, the later giving you a look that only made you nervous.

you made small talk with the family before nico announced that dinner was ready. thankfully nico had brought your plate to you, both you and the fetus were happy with the look and smell of the fettuccine alfredo, with sausage, that nico had made. “thank you.”

as much as you didn’t want to, you had to set your work bag that had been used as a bump shield on the floor to eat, you just hoped everyone was too distracted by the food in front of them to notice.

“so what was the news that you had to share? i assume it has to do with y/n?” mrs.hischier spoke excitedly, it was obvious she was hoping that you and nico had started dating.

“y/n is pregnant and i’m the father and we are keeping it, but we are not together.” nico spoke quickly, his head down as if he was a child being scolded.

“oh…” 

it wasn’t the worst reaction that could’ve happened, but it definitely wasn’t the best one, but how good of a reaction could one get after they tell their mother they got their fuck buddy pregnant.

“we’re figuring this all out as we go, but i am very sorry mrs.hischier i understand this isn’t how one would usually want their son to become a father.” you apologized, your head was also down.

“i’m not angry, just shocked and a little bit disappointed in you nico…but everything happens for a reason so i fully support you two.” you and nico let out identical sighs as his mother revealed that she was not going to disown either of us.

+++

the rest of dinner went great, you even made plans for both yours and nico’s family to get together for a small gender reveal brunch before the hischier’s headed back to switzerland.

nina had called dibs on walking you out so you prepared yourself for the question you knew she was going to ask.

“are you absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when you say that you and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically?” nina asks, using too many synonyms for the word definitely.

“yes i am absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when i say that me and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically.” you reply, mocking her words.

she doesn’t seem too pleased by your answer and whines. “why? i want a sister and you are the only person i like, in general.”

“that is very sweet nina, but me and nico don’t like each other in that way. we’ve been…boinking for almost two years now. if either of us had feelings, i guarantee they would have been confessed by now and we probably would not be expecting a child out of wedlock in five months.”

nina let out an exaggerated sigh as you neared your car. 

“me and nico are just friends, okay?” you spoke, getting into the driver’s seat. 

“yeah friends who happen to boink on a weekly basis and are now expecting a child together.”

“i’ll see you at brunch on sunday nina.” 

+++

“i’m team boy and girl!”

“mom i already told you we aren’t having twins.” 

the sunday morning activities were supposed to be fun, and they were, but they were causing you a shit load of stress. 

it seemed like everything nico was doing was aggravating you, and when nico and your little brother were in the same room it was a recipe for disaster. plus your mother wasn’t any help, she teamed up with nico’s mother and kept pressuring you to at least move in with nico, who you believe put them up to it.

“okay let’s just get this over with!” you yelled out, just wanting to figure out the gender so you could go home and have some much needed alone time.

nico came up next to you holding the envelope that contained the gender. “you ready mommy?”

“ew, don’t call me that.”

everyone had their phones out and began counting down as nico opened up the envelope.

“it’s a…GIRL!”

everyone’s cheers only furthered your headache, but you gave nico a smile and side hug before going over to your mother who ecstatically hugged you.

“a baby girl! i’m so happy for you y/n, my first grandbaby!”

you quickly said your goodbyes, not bothering to eat any of the food that was made or open any of the gifts that were brought.

were you being a rude, ungrateful, bitch for no reason? yes. but you were too exhausted to care or feel bad about nico’s constant dejected looks on his face throughout the morning.

+++

the second you got home you passed out on the floor of your apartment , god bless the pregnancy pillow your mother had delivered to you because you had a weird thing for sleeping on hardwood floors. 

you woke up at three in the afternoon to a series of knocks at your door. you took a while to get up and once you did you regretted it because you saw nico looking very angry through the peephole. 

you grabbed a sharpie and a sheet of paper towel and wrote the words “GO AWAY” in a very bold font before slipping it under the door.

the knocking silenced for a moment before it got louder, along with a call of your name.

“y/n. open the fucking door.” nico was seething.

you opened up the door. “what? i was sleeping.” you pointed to the pillow and blanket on the floor of your kitchen.

“on the floor?”

“yes- what do you need nico?”

“you left the party so quickly that you didn’t even get to open up your gifts, or acknowledge them.” nico gestured to the large bag of wrapped gifts that sat at his feet. “you actually left the party so early that the food wasn’t even served before you had said your goodbyes, which by the way thanks for not saying goodbye to me and thanks so much for the fake smile and side hug you gave me after we found out the gender of our child. that’s gonna be a real joy to look back on.”

you felt your headache coming back, you were starting to believe the sole cause was nico.

“seriously what was your problem this morning?” nico asked after a few moments of silence.

“my problem was that i didn’t even want this baby in the first place and i know for a fact i’m not going to be a good mother, and you! nico you are my problem, everything you did this morning seemed to piss me off and it’s probably just the pregnancy hormones making me easily irritable, but you were getting on my fucking nerves by breathing this morning.” 

nico kicked the bag of gifts into your apartment in a fit. “well i’ll stop bothering you then.”

you knew you should’ve been a rational adult and went after him, but you weren’t, so you slammed the door and brought all the gifts to the living room so you could open them.

you smiled as you realized that all of the gifts were for you. your favorite candies and snacks, maternity clothes, and some prenatal care items that you probably should’ve started taking the second you found out you were pregnant, with the exception of one gift. it was from nico, you could tell by the poor wrapping job, you had been the one to wrap all of his christmas gifts ever since you met him except your own of course, those he always wrapped himself and they were a nightmare.

once you got his present unwrapped you found a boat load of mini devils gear. bibs, socks, a onesie, even a pair of noise canceling headphones. at the bottom of the box you found a very tiny devil’s jersey with the number thirteen on the back and a big patched “C” on the front. you teared up once you saw the big patched “DADDY” above the thirteen on the back and a matching bow headband with a small note. i’m writing this before the reveal and i know we don’t know the sex yet, but i’m hoping for a girl and i know you are too. i hope the headband is a little good luck charm that baby girl judith is on the way. - nico.

you teared up at the note, especially at nico remembering the name you’ve always wanted to name your first daughter.

you quickly called nico, tears streaming down your face and nose all stuffy.

“hello?”

“come back up…please.”

“on my way.”

+++

you stood by the door waiting for nico to knock and once he did you immediately opened the door and nearly tackled him from the hug you gave him.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled, still crying.

“i know, it’s okay.”

you walked into your apartment and sat on your couch next to nico. “you remembered my baby names.”

“how could i forget them?” nico stated.

“what would you have done if it was baby boy gannon instead of judith?” you asked, turning your head that was leaned on his shoulder up to look at him.

“turn the headband into a bowtie…?”

you laughed at him before your stomach growled loudly.

“what are you in the mood for?” nico asked immediately.

“canes, but that’s in the city and i don’t wanna make you go to new york.” 

nico stood up after hearing your restaurant of choice. “c’mon, i’ll drive.”

+++

“how is it?”

“this is sex in a chicken tender nico, thank you for taking me here.”

nico laughed at your response before the both of you continued to eat a comfortable silence.

“hey tell your family that i’m sorry for how i was acting this morning, i am super grateful for them helping plan the reveal and to delay their flight to attend.”

“don’t worry, they understand that pregnancy emotions can be a lot, but i will still let them know.” nico said, making a mental note to text the family group chat.

“their gifts were very thoughtful too, how did nina know i like black licorice?”

“oh i let them know all your favorite things, that wasn’t alcohol.” nico shrugged as if it was no big deal.

you took a moment to process his answer, it wasn’t that weird for nico to know all of your favorite snacks and desserts, that’s what friends do…right?

+++

to: nico (hookup)

i have my sixth month checkup tomorrow at 10am, would you like to join?

from: nico (hookup)

yeah, do you wanna meet there or drive together?

to: nico (hookup)

could we drive together? 

from: nico (hookup)

of course, i’ll pick you up at 9:30, we’ll stop by mcdonalds for breakfast. i know you love their sausage muffins.

you hadn’t seen nico since the day of the gender reveal party and when you went into the city together to get canes. of course you stayed in contact, but it was hard with both of your work schedules that often collided. 

the next day nico was knocking on your door right at nine thirty in the morning, and you were still passed out. the pregnancy pillow and weighted blanket combo was not being your friend right now, though it was at 5am when the gremlin in your womb wouldn’t stop kicking. which she did for the first time earlier that day.

after about five minutes of nico knocking on your door with no response he began to fully panic, had you fallen down and couldn’t get up? were you dead in your bed? did you forget he was picking you up? so many things could’ve happened to you.

after a few moments of contemplating, nico decided that his only option was to break the door down. he began backing up a few steps and then running full force into your door, it took about seven tries for the door to fall to the ground.

the sound of the first impact of nico’s body was enough to wake you up. at the second impact you became aware of your surroundings, and at the third you thought someone was trying to break into your apartment.

you grabbed the closet weapon you could find, a meat pounder that you left on your kitchen counter last night, and got in position, ready to attack the person on the other side of the door.

once the door fell to the ground and the body fell on top of it, you got ready to swing.

“y/n!? are you alive!?”

“AHHH- nico!?” you froze your movements, the pounder hanging right above your head. “what are you doing here!?”

nico was still on the ground, also frozen as he tried to catch his breath. “ultrasound.”

you dropped your hands to your side as an ohhh played in your head. “i’m sorry i completely forgot. just give me a few moments and then we can leave.”

you turned around to enter your room before you froze and turned back around.

“i don’t have a front door…”

“i’ll text jack to come over and watch over the place and reattach it while we’re gone, the kid needs something to do this morning anyways.” nico said while pulling out his phone.

“does he know?”

“no, but he will…i’ve been meaning to ask you about telling the team anyways.”

“we can talk about it later , i need to get ready.”

you quickly got dressed, sporting a tight tank top, tight leggings, and a tight zip up. all tight because this baby had you gaining five pounds a minute. you huffed and puffed trying to get the tank top on. eventually you got it over your bump, but it was rising up and you were spilling out of it in too many places. deciding to just embrace the bummy look you threw on uggs, didn’t bother to put your contacts in, and left your hair in the rat's nest bun you’ve been wearing for the past five days since you were told to take a break from work by your boss, of course you had to faint in front of her.

“nico i need to get maternity clothes, i’m pretty sure these tanktop strings will snap if i raise my arm and don’t get me started on these leggings.”

“you’re huge…” 

“thanks nico, you’re really helping out right now.” you joked, but deep down you were upset. you don’t tell a pregnant woman she is huge, especially if it’s your baby. “let’s go, we can’t be late.”

“jack is almost here, babe.” the nickname slipped out before nico could even process what he was saying.

“uhm…”

“yo nico what’s up…where is y/n’s door.” jack said while walking into your apartment.

“you’re standing on it.” you spoke. jack’s eye’s wandered to you and then to your belly, and then they got really wide. “hi jacklyn.”

“oh shit.”

“we can talk about this later, but me and nico really have to go because we’re already running late.”

you and nico quickly walked out, the later telling jack that you had a toolbox under your sink and to “go crazy.” 

“no mcdonalds then huh?” nico asked as you got into his car.

“no, but i’ll be fine.”

+++

you weren’t fine.

you quickly got hangry and so did judith, nico seemed to be your punching for just about everything and even though he said he was fine, you could tell you hit home when you told him he needed to wax his eyebrows.

dr.swarn was completely fine with you guys being ten minutes late because she didn’t have anyone scheduled after you. the appointment went great except judith didn’t want to kick when nico felt your stomach, and of course nico’s hands were all dry and calloused which you hated feeling on your skin, and then after the ultrasound was over you guys rushed to mcdonalds because nico was determined to get you a damn sausage muffin, but of course you were two minutes past the cutoff for lunch and the teenager taking your order wouldn’t budge and you had to pretend like the cheeseburger didn’t come back up the second you got into the restroom. all you wanted to do is go home and be alone…and eat jalapeno poppers…and mozzarella sticks…

nico stopped at target to get what you wanted, and mac n cheese bites because he knew you’d love them.

you were pleasantly surprised when you arrived home to your door back on. luckily it had just separated itself from the hinges when nico tackled it to the ground, so it was an easy fix for jack.

once you stepped inside, nico quickly got to work, placing large portions of everything he bought in your airfryer. nico said it was crazy to buy a twenty size quart size air fryer and that you would never use it, but here he was being proven wrong.

you quickly changed out of the leggings and jacket, leaving the tank top on because you knew it would be just as much of a workout to get it off as it was to get it on and you threw on nico’s heart boxers he swears he wore as a joke, but you knew he picked them out at the store being one hundred percent serious.

“you two kids come sit down.” jack spoke loudly, as if he was your father.

“jack we are both older than you.” nico spoke sitting down in the spot next to you on your couch.

“doesn’t matter. you’re pregnant?”

you both nodded as jack pointed to you.

“-and you’re the father?”

you both nodded as jack pointed to nico.

“and you’re keeping it together as…”

“friends, just friends.”

“friends don’t have babies together.” jack gave you a skeptical look.

“they do now.” you stood up. “goodbye jack.”

+++

“i think it’s best if you two move in together, for both your safety y/n, and the babies.”

dr.swarn spoke before leaving you and nico in the room alone,

you were now seven months pregnant and you were constantly fainting, your boss had stopped allowing you to come into work and told you that you “needed rest” so you met her halfway and you now work from home.

nico was over one night after a game when he walked in on you passed out on the kitchen floor, but this time it wasn’t on purpose. he immediately began staying the night on your couch to make sure you were alright and as soon as you could he got you into dr.swarn’s office.

“i’m taking you home and we’re packing you up. i’ll text jack to come over with luke.” nico said as you exited the obgyn. 

“you know i can help right? judith is fine-”

“-but you’re not fine! you told dr.swarn that you’ve been fainting since even before you got pregnant, and i didn’t know. why didn’t you tell me about all this?” nico interrupted you, obviously upset.

“because it’s not important!” you snapped back. “it doesn’t affect judith in anyway, so i don’t understand you’re so worried.”

“it’s important because it affects you. i am worried about you, and i’m allowed to be. now there is no more arguments, you will be moving in with me and ending your lease at your current place.”

“nico-”

“no, that is final.”

+++

for the rest of the day you sat and watched tv while the two hughes and nico packed up your apartment until they had to pack your tv, which you insisted they did last.

“the truck is all loaded up, we’re gonna drive it over to nico’s and he is going to drive you in your car.” jack spoke as you approached where the truck was parked on the side of the street.

you nodded as nico helped you into the car. you hated admitting it, but you were much larger than you were expecting to be at this time in your pregnancy. 

+++

once you had made it to nico’s apartment you did the same thing you were doing before while the boys unpacked your stuff into the second bedroom, absolutely nothing.

you got up and waddled over to where the guys were all watching luke struggle to get the fitted sheet on your bed.

“can i please do something? anything?” you begged.

“yeah, go out and use my laptop to create a list of things you want as gifts at the baby shower, a registry because i know you want specific things for judith.” nico answered your begging.

“baby shower? i’m having a baby shower?” you had not been informed of this.

“yeah, all the guys on the team and their partners are gonna come, so are your friends and family, mine is coming too.” nico spoke like it was no big deal. 

nico had told the guys about three weeks ago because they saw the ultrasound in his locker. which in response had you getting multiple text messages from some of the girls all sounding very similar to “i thought y’all were just friends?” 

“when is this?” you asked, knowing you would need to get an outfit ready.

“next saturday, we have no game.” nico replied simply

“that’s in a week!” you shrieked, when you went maternity clothes shopping that did not involve any dresses.

“yeah, so you better get working on that list.”

+++

it only took you ten minutes to make the list because all you had to do was transfer it from a google doc, where it was already made but just titled as your shopping list, to a spreadsheet where people could claim a gift to give you, nico, and the baby.

it was a list with the basics. a stroller, breast pump, car seat (preferably one that went with the stroller), bed sheets, clothes, the essentials to keep a newborn alive, but you also had other things like decor for the nursery toys, and this bedside bassinet that your mother had been raving about since she saw it on facebook. you thanked god that your new room had a walk-in closet because that was going to be judith’s room. you weren’t even sure it was a closet because it was completely empty, no shelves or rods to hang anything on, it was more of a very small room, but it worked out better for you so you couldn’t complain.

you quickly went back to where the boys were, silently screaming as they made your bed completely wrong.

“please, oh please for the love of god, let me make my bed.” you begged nico, genuinely astonished that they had managed to put your pillows in the wrong order and put your comforter on inside out.

“i thought i told you to make your list?” nico said.

“i already finished. it was easy.” you said as you began stripping your bed of everything on it. “i just put down everything i already had on my shopping list…and then some because i know my friends are gonna wanna get me multiple things.”

you made sure to stare jack down as you put your comforter on the correct way before you placed your pillows in the correct order as well as the blankets at the end of your bed.

nico was quick to rush you back into the living room, turning on a movie for you to watch. you quickly got bored, which meant you quickly got hungry.

“nico!” you yelled out, needed your baby daddy to come to your rescue.

“yes honey?” nico approached where you were lying down, the two brothers laughing at their captain.

“i’m hungry.” you gave him a hopeful smile. “for taco bell…” “you’re order still the same as it was last time?” nico didn’t even hesitate to grab his shoes and keys. 

“yes, but if they have nacho fries please get those too.” you answered, nico had basically all of your fast food orders memorized by now.

“nico can i get some food too?” jack asked in a girly voice.

“please honey!” luke added.

“fuck off you two, go finish putting her clothes away.

+++

soon enough you had dragged nico out to go shopping for a dress for your baby shower. luke and jack had left shortly after nico arrived back home with your food and once you finished eating you got nico to drive you to the mall.

“ooh what about this one?” you pulled out a simple floral dress.

“it’s nice, but it’s only march. don’t you think it’ll be too cold for a tank top?” nico spoke, reminding you that it was still freezing cold in new jersey.

a few minutes later you approached where nico was sat in a chair with a dress you thought would be more appropriate. 

“what about this? i love the pink.” it was basically a dupe of the skims long sleeve dress, but you didn’t really care. “we’ll have to find a polo that matches the color while we’re out.”

nico approved of the dress so you were quick to go to the checkout and buy the dress, excited about the event that was going to happen, after you pulled nico into the closest department store and found a polo that was close enough to the shade of pink of your dress. 

“how are you gonna tell the media about…this whole thing?” you asked on the way home.

“what whole thing?” nico questioned, not exactly understanding what you meant.

“the fact that you knocked up some chick, who you are now living with to raise the baby, but you aren’t together with said chick.” you deadpanned, thinking of all the reactions you knew you were going to get from the hockey world. you could already see the “baby trapper” and “gold digger” comments and dms you would get.

“i didn’t knock up some chick, i knocked up my…friend?” 

“yeah go with that, it sounded real believable nico.” you said sarcastically.

“look i don’t really know how to tell the world that i got my hook up/best friend pregnant because, as jack as told me multiple times, my pull out game is weak.” you laughed and agreed with jack that nico did in fact have a weak pull out game, the evidence was currently kicking you. 

after a few moments of silence nico spoke up again. “alright what if we don’t mention our relationship at all. we just make an instagram post together of images of the ultrasounds and pics from the baby shower and tell everyone that we are expecting. we definitely won’t post the gender reveal video because you look like you were planning my death in it, but we just make the post and don’t comment on our relationship.”

you had to admit that it was a good idea, but you already knew that this would make everyone assume that you were dating. most people did already, which you understood. you wore playoff jackets with nico’s name and number, you attend team events and parties together, hell you went to the nhl awards with him and his family, and you are super close with his family, so you were never upset that people assumed your relationship status with nico because you did everything that the other girlfriends and wives did.

“i like that idea.”

+++

“alright this gift is from me and jack.” luke spoke as he handed you a gift.

you were a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people looking at you and just simply being in your home, but you knew that these people were here for you and at the end of the day you were getting a shit ton of gifts. 

so far every single thing you had put on your list was gifted to you and now it was just things people thought you or the baby would like.

“oh you guys…i love it!” it was a wood wall decal of judith’s name and it matched the pink polkadot of her sheets.

“there is more under it.” jack spoke up. 

you lifted up the large sign and saw a baby onesie in maize and blue that said “future wolverine.”

you and your friends started laughing at it. 

“you guys do know that i went to ohio state right?”

you were met with a disgusted stare by the brothers, more specifically the youngest, only causing you to laugh harder, not noticing nico’s pissed off expression, the one he had on his face all day.

+++

you continued to open up gifts and thank everyone, nico was one writing duty so he wrote down each gift and who it was from so you could send them thank you cards later in the week.

once presents were done it was photo time. you took lots with your family and nico’s family, as well as some with your friends, and of course you had to keep the tradition going with the girls from the team and took a picture of everyone pointing at your belly.

you only took a couple with nico, as he had been oddly distant all day.

after everyone left you and nico began moving everything into judith’s nursery and setting things up.

“thank you for setting that up, i had a lot of fun.” you spoke up, interrupting the awkward silence that was looming around you two.

nico nodded as he finished building the crib, you were given the simple task of putting all the wipes and diapers in the changing table’s cabinet.

“so once we’re done do you want to make the instagram post? or were you wanting to wait until after judith was born to post?” it was awkward, nico was just sitting there once the crib was all set up. “...nico?”

you were met with silence, nico was staring at you, yet not speaking.

“okay what the hell is up with you today? you’ve been weird all day, the only time you were even interacting with me was during pictures.” you had snapped, getting aggravated by the swiss’ behavior today.

“it’s nothing i just…” nico started speaking, but trailed off quickly.

“are you having second thoughts about all of this?” you whispered, scared to say it too loudly, scared that it is the truth. “second thoughts about judith?”

nico’s head instantly shook. “no, of course not.”

“then what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, i’m just not feeling the greatest and i didn’t want to risk you getting sick so i tried to keep my distance from you…” nico lied.

earlier, when the party was first starting, nico had overheard your conversation with your friends about how you couldn’t wait to give birth so you can start going out on dates and having meaningless hookups, saying that you missed being a twenty two year old who could do twenty two year old things. 

nico understood you had urges, hell he had his urges too. over the course of your pregnancy you and nico had the occasional…hang out, but ever since you moved it was happening once, sometimes twice, a day. he thought it meant something, he thought you guys were finally going somewhere, but it seemed like you just wanted to go back to how things were before, which would probably be impossible, you have a fucking kid togther.

nico had realized a year ago that he had feelings for you. the only reason he didn’t go full legal team on your ass when you told him you were pregnant was because of how desperately he had fallen for you.  

“oh, well you could’ve just told me that earlier, i was worried that i had done something.” you said before an awkward silence settled in the room. “well could you put all the sheets and clothes we got today in the washer? i’m gonna start on thank you notes in the living room.”

you shook off the tension as you exited the small room, nico gathering everything that needed to be washed in a small basket before going into the laundry room.

+++

“i don’t like that, why don’t we just wait to post until she is born to post everything, have the caption just be judith? i think that's better than a three hundred word rant that could be summarized by i knocked up my friend.” 

three weeks until you were due to pop and you and nico still hadn’t gone public with the pregnancy. of course the wag blogs found a way to get a hold of a picture of you and nico from earlier on in the pregnancy where people could only speculate whether or not you were with child or just had a large lunch and somehow it got out that you had moved in with nico, only furthering the rumors that had been going on for years that you and nico are more than just friends. 

“okay. let’s wait until she comes to post, but i don’t like that caption, let’s keep thinking.” nico replied, the devil’s PR team email staring back at him. “they want us to publicize it before someone else does it for us.”

“well it’s a good thing i’m chained to this bed until i go into labor.” you joked, you were so big you could barely sit up let alone walk anywhere. “no one is going to find out, don’t worry. it will all be okay.”

+++

two weeks later you had been having contractions all day, but dr.swarn said to not go to the hospital until your water had broke because these contractions could’ve been directly connected to stress. considering that your pregnancy was exposed three days ago, you would say that you were pretty stressed out.

one of the girls, not even thinking, had posted a photo dump on instagram to celebrate the devil’s season ending and included one from your baby shower. nico, you, and unborn judith right in the center of it all. it was quickly taken down, but the damage had already been done and now all of nico’s and your social medias were being flooded by comments. 

nico was currently at locker cleanout, and the meeting he had to have with the PR team to apologize for not listening to them and to set up a game plan to rescue him from whatever deepshit this was going to get him in was scheduled for right after.

you were laid down on the kitchen floor, your mother was somewhere in the living room timing your contractions. you were having a big contraction, holding onto the nearby chair leg for support, when you felt a gush of liquid puddle under you. 

“MOM!?” you yelled out, your water had just broke.

“sweetie!? what’s going on- OH LORD!” your mother scrambled to get you on your feet as you cried out in pain. “let me get the bag!” you had never seen your mom run so fast, you would’ve laughed at her nearly tripping if it wasn’t for the child threatening the slip out at any moment.

you were assisted into the backseat of your mother’s car as she drove to the hospital.

“if you could step on it, that would be great i’m kinda-” your sarcastic comment was cut off by another contraction. “nico…oh my god nico! i need to call him!”

you fished around the packed bag until you got a grip on your phone, dialing up nico as quickly as possible.

“i’m sorry but the number you reached is not available. please leave a message at the sound of the beep.”

you groaned loudly, speaking into the phone. 

“your child is currently in the process of being born, i’m at the hospital closest to the arena. please hurry.”

+++

you laid in the weirdly comfortable hospital bed, not yet fully dilated. it worked out in your favor because nico had yet to show up. you left a couple text messages and then a few more voicemails.

“i don’t know what the fuck your doing right now, but if judith is born before you get here your last name will not be on the birth certificate.” you said into the microphone, leaving the third voicemail of the day.

nico’s entire family was flying in next week and nico had made sure that he had all of next week off from any media or anything related to hockey so he could be there for the birth, but now judith was coming early and no one but your mother was here.

dr.swarn entered your hospital room again, she had arrived shortly after you because you had paged her the second you got into the car. “how are we doing momma?”

“not good, baby daddy is nowhere to be seen and i’m still not dilated enough to get this monster out of me.” you answered, setting your phone down beside you.

after a few moments dr.swarn smiled. “well i’m sorry about nico’s absence, but judith is ready to come out. you’re ready to push.”

+++

you don’t remember much, the epidural had kicked in. 

you remember holding onto your mom’s hand so hard that she yelped in pain at one point.

you remember cursing nico for not only doing this to you, but not being there for you.

you remember crying, a lot, and you remember judith crying a lot too.

you remember holding judith for the first time. both of your tears stopped for just a moment as you had skin on skin contact.

you whimpered as they took her away for cleaning, but soon she was wrapped up and you were able to hold her again. 

you remember the sound of footsteps and a thick swiss accent begging to be let into the room, continuously yelling that he was the father. your mother was quick to go into the hall and defend nico from the nurses saying he couldn’t go into the room, and as soon as nico saw you holding judith he began crying. 

“y/n i am so so sorry, i was-”

“where the hell were you!? i just had to give birth to our daughter without the father there!” you scolded the man.

“i put my phone at the bottom of my bag during locker cleanout and didn’t even think to take it out before my meeting with management. i got here as fast as i could.” nico had to catch his breath while he spoke.

“i was all alone…” you teared up, all of your emotions catching up to you again.

“i know. i know baby and i’m so sorry.” nico said, coming to your side. “can i hold her?”

you were too distracted by nico calling you baby, well more specifically by the feeling in your stomach, to answer with words. you just nodded and handed judith over. “be careful, and make sure to support her head.”

you smiled at the sight of nico holding judith, tears in his eyes, quickly taking a picture.

“were you serious about my name not being on the birth certificate?”

+++

once everything had settled down and you and nico were finally given some alone time in the hospital room you began making calls.

your mom had already messaged your families group chat, informing them of judith’s birth and sending pictures, so now you just had to call nico’s family. first was his mother, you had wanted to call her before you went into labor but it was around midnight for her and you didn’t want to wake her up.

she was so happy to hear from you, and you had never heard such an excited scream in your life when you turned the camera onto where judith was currently sleeping in your arms, nico having moved to lay behind you in the bed, his chest being your pillow.

“oh you have to call nina next, she has been so excited to become an aunt!”

that’s exactly what you two did.

facetime nina was fun, she gave you some much needed comic relief and she didn’t make any comments on yours and nico’s relationship…while he was in the room.

the second nico stepped out of the room nina was quick to ask when the wedding was.

“never gonna happen. i don’t like nico like that, and he doesn’t like me like that.” you said while putting judith back in that plastic jail they call a crib. “we’re here to talk about my gorgeous daughter who looks a little too much like nico for my liking.”

“ouch.” 

your head whipped around to see nico standing at the door. “your back early.” you were hoping he didn’t hear what you had said earlier. lately nico had been acting insanely weird everytime someone brought up your relationship with one another.

“the nurse was just outside, she’s gonna go finish the final paperwork and we’ll probably be out of here in the next hour.” nico said before turning back around. “i’m gonna go help out with the discharge papers.”

once he left you let out a groan. “nina why is your brother acting so weird?”

“what’s up with him?” she asked, curiously.

“ever since the baby shower he has just been…off. i don’t even know how to explain it.” you  started off, beginning to pace around the room. “he is so distant, and really out of it. i would think it might just be with the upsetting ending of the season, but this has been going on since before the playoffs. he keeps saying that he is sick and doesn’t want to expose me to germs, but i live with him and i haven’t even heard him sneeze from allergies.”

“do you think, and i hate to ask this, that he is having regrets about…everything?” 

you felt tears fill your eyes at her question. “yeah, i do. i asked him, and he denied it, but i can’t think of any other reason why he would distance himself from me and from judith.”

the lack of response from your friend on the phone was enough to make you start crying.

“i have my essentials packed up and my mom has a lawyer on speed dial just in case something happens…” you felt horrible having to admit this, especially to his sister. “i don’t want the lawyers, it’s my moms doing.” you felt guilty for what having a lawyer would be implying. 

“-i’m not judging you. just make sure nico doesn’t find out, i have a feeling he won’t be a fan of you even having a bag packed.” nina cut you off. “look i have to go, just keep me updated.”

you assured her you would before saying your goodbyes.

+++

“hey you just have to sign the discharge papers and the birth certificate, then we can leave.” nico said, entering the hospital room you had been in for the past couple of hours.

it had been around twenty minutes since you said goodbye to nina, deciding to finish phone calls tomorrow and instead spend your time crying while holding your crying newborn, best way to bond right?

“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”

bond right?

“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”

nico nodded and picked judith up from the hospital’s crib, holding her close to his chest and staring at her in awe. he couldn’t believe that this precious little girl was his.

“i’m always going to love and protect you, no matter what. your mother too. someday we’ll be a happy family, the three of us, hopeful gannon will join us sometime soon…” nico trailed off. “daddy loves you and he loves mommy too, you’re the two most important women in my life now, don’t you ever forget that…your mommy does a lot.” 

nico couldn’t finish his peptalk, or whatever one would call the conversation with his daughter, because you had stepped out of the bathroom changed and ready to go. “are you okay?” it was obvious that you were crying, you don’t know why you were even trying to hid it. 

“i’m fine, just emotional…just gave birth ya know.” you tried to laugh it off.

nico didn’t believe it. “we’ll talk when we get home.” 

+++

“why have you been acting so weird-”

“i overheard what you said-”

you and nico spoke at the same time, nico gesturing for you to go first.

“you overheard!?” you were convinced you were breaking a sweat from how panicked you had become in an instant. “look nico, the lawyer was my mother’s idea a-and i haven’t even actually talked to them yet, my mother just has them on retainer.”

“wait, what!?” nico stared at you with a look that scared you. “i was talking about what you said at your baby shower. you have a lawyer!? do you have all your things packed too so you’re ready to leave me and take judith with you!?” your silence only made nico angrier. “oh my god you do have your shit packed.”

“j-just the essentials…” you stuttered out.

“yeah because that makes a difference.” nico had distanced himself from you. “i cannot believe this.”

“i only did that stuff because for the past month it's seemed like the last thing you wanted was to be in mine and judith’s life!” your loud voices woke judith up, her loud wails only making the room more tense. you picked her up and tried to soothe her as you spoke to nico. “i’m only gonna ask you one more time nico, do you regret being with me and deciding to be in judith’s life?” 

“no. i do not regret it y/n.” nico spoke sternly.

“then why the hell are you treating us this way?” 

“because i am in love with you.”

your eyes widened in shock and you nearly lost your grip on judith from the whiplash that seemed to go through your body.

“you…what!?” 

it was essentially a stare down between the two of you, it was so uncomfortable in the room that even judith shut her mouth. 

“i have for a year now, probably longer, a-and i thought that judith would finally be my way into your heart. i thought that me being there for you, and for our daughter, would make you love me too.” nico’s tone of voice was one of a kicked puppy. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, not pleased with what he was throwing onto you. “why are you telling me this?” 

“i just needed you to know.” nico whispered his response, not expecting that reaction.

“so you’ve been in love with me for a year now?” nico nodded at your question. “so how does that add up to you treating me like some gold digging whore who got pregnant on purpose for the past month?” 

“i’m not-” nico let out a heavy sigh. “at your baby shower you said you couldn’t wait for everything to get back to how it was before the pregnancy.”

“yeah, so?”

“so!? you’ve basically been counting down the days until you’re able to fuck someone else, while i’ve been doing everything in my power to prove myself to you that i am worthy of being more than just the guy you fuck when no one else is available.” nico grew angry, if this was a cartoon steam would be coming out of his ears.

“i didn’t ask for you to do that nico! i was happy with how things were before judith, is it so wrong to want that back?” you were equally as angry. who was he to make you feel guilty about not being in love with him?

“yes it is! you are a mother now y/n, you are not allowed to be irresponsible anymore. you have to take care of two lives now-”

“are you not going to be helping me!?” you interrupted nico.

“when i can, yes i will, but i have a job that keeps me away a lot.” 

you rolled your eyes at his words. “you are not allowed to dictate my love life just because you knocked me up.”

you didn’t know if you should be thankful or agitated that judith decided to start crying at that moment, but either way you started your slight bouncing movements back up to try and settle my daughter, as odd as it was to use that term in a real scenario, and tried to find those parental instincts everyone was always talking about.

“she’s probably hungry.”

“i didn’t ask you…but thank you i will try that.”

+++

the first night with judith was rough. as much as nico wanted to, he couldn’t leave you alone and retreat off to the hughes’, both because if his mother found out, and she would, he might as well get his obituary ready in advance and he just could not handle the torture the brothers would put him through.

it was like your daughter had a sixth sense for when you were just about to fall asleep, choosing those exact moments to cry out for something. you never knew what she wanted, always going through the same order of “milk, diaper change, pacifier, cuddles, burping, scenery change, and clothing change” until one of them worked. 

nico slept on the couch, it was close enough to your room where if judith began to cry he would hear it and wake up. he was going to stay in your room with you and judith, but after the blowup of him confessing his feelings and you borderline rejecting him things it got a bit awkward. still now, almost twenty four hours later you and nico hadn’t had a proper conversation let alone spoken about what had happened. 

you were on the phone with nina for a while, then your mother, then nina and your mother, both of them giving you their advice but following it up with “just listen to your heart.”, so it was all canceled out in your mind. 

you turned to your newborn, who was staring at you from her little bed next to yours. “judith what am i supposed to do? your daddy, the one with the funny voice, is so amazing and sweet. he treats me like a princess, so why am i struggling so much to figure out what i want with him?” 

judith stared at you with those large brown eyes, a small look of adoration on her face. 

“i love you.” you whispered to her. “-and i love your father too.” 

you sat up in bed, eyes widening at your revelation. you love nico. 

“oh judith, thank you for listening to your mommy!”

you hopped out of bed, rushing into the living room. “nico! nico! nico! nic-”

“what!? what's wrong!? is judith alright!?” nico basically jumped off of the couch, worried that something had happened.

“she’s fine, everything is fine…well not everything it’s just.” you took a moment to look at nico, the lighting was horrible yet he still looked amazing. “i love you too nico.”

there was a silence that followed, it wasn’t awkward or filled with tension, just a calm silence. 

you blinked and then suddenly nico’s lips were on yours. 

the sound of judith’s cries separated your lips and caused you both to race to your bedroom.

spoiler alert: nothing was wrong with judith, she was just crying to cry. 

nico’s arms were wrapped around you and were holding you into his chest as you both laughed. 

“so what now? are we dating? getting married?” you asked, leaning your head against nico’s shoulder. 

“as much as i would love to get married right now, we’ll start with dating…so will you be my girlfriend?” nico asked, mumbling against your head and giving light kisses every now and then.

“yes, i will be your girlfriend.”

“yes!” 

you laughed at his response, judith held in both of your arms. “let’s go to bed, she’s finally asleep.”

+++

nicohischeir and y/nonfilm

nicohischier me, my girlfriend, and our beautiful babygirl. welcome to the world judith.

view all 17 comments

jackhughes god father mode activated😎

y/nonfilm …who said you were the god father?

ninahischier best day ever!! i got a niece and a sister 🩷🩷

njdevils baby hischier alert‼️

comments on this post have been limited

+++

note: i 100% HATE this ending (the whole thing actually) it’s so rushed and just bleh, but i have literally been working on this for 71 days. SEVENTY ONE DAYS. college has been kicking my ass lately so i haven’t been very focused on writing anything. but i hope y’all still like this PLEASE DON’T LET IT FLOP i’ll cry. okay love y’all babes BYEEEE!!!

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 5

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 5 - What Now?

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.2k

AO3

Chapter 4

You didn’t go to Quantico today. Not that anyone would notice your absence besides Prentiss and that was fine by you. Let her stew while you figure out what you want. A difficult task since you had no idea what that was without someone telling you what to do. You rarely had the lead on your mission purpose. You could tell Brian what happened to gain some professional advice but decided it is best to keep it to yourself. Think things through for a bit before reaching out. And you were glad that the section chief didn’t contact you.

Not that you were expecting it. Prentiss wasn’t one to make amends so quickly, especially when she felt she was in the right. You respected her motivations for team preservation, but the woman went about it completely wrong.

You were not kind, either. But she provoked you, wouldn’t budge, and too fucking proud to admit she was wrong. You didn’t regret anything you said to her and probably continue being a petulant ass if she contacted you.

So here you were at the Botanical Gardens, sipping coffee from a to go cup you bought at the café, and casually stroll around the exhibits. The fragrance that you greedily inhaled was intoxicatingly calming. There was barely a sound, too, since it was a weekday and you were happy to learn from the cashier that there were no school trips planned for today. For a short time, you can pretend to have the place to yourself as you round the long rectangular pool in one of the exhibits far from the entrance.

Natural light filtered through glass ceiling, illuminating large trees hugged by well-manicured flowers. Wooden benches were tucked between large potted plants, the same ones that were placed around the pool, though on opposite ends were long planters with bright pink flowers that easily caught your eye.

You pause roughly a foot away from the pool and close your eyes, listening to the gentle laps of water hitting the edges. You could almost forget about yesterday’s argument. Eyes still close, you bring the lip of the cup to your mouth and take a healthy swallow while slipping a hand into your jean pocket …

… and felt your phone buzz.

You enjoy pretending nothing was wrong for a moment longer before opening your eyes and pulling the phone free from your back pocket. Should you take bets as to who was messaging you?

To your surprise, it was Rebecca. Did she know what happened?

You take another sip and unlock your phone to read the message,

Wilson sent 1043: Hey! Drinks this weekend?

So, she didn’t know.

Interesting.

A pang of guilt made your stomach ache thinking how the falling out with Prentiss would affect her if you didn’t go back to working with the BAU. The AG went to bat for the two of you when she didn’t have to.

Bailey would love it if you backed out and could resume causing trouble for the team. You couldn’t have that, but you equally couldn’t have Prentiss treating you like shit. Why you didn’t want to make any hasty decisions until you distance yourself further from the time of the fight and figure out what you wanted.

Whitlock sent 1055: Sure. Let me know when and where. Tara going to be there too?

Wilson sent 1057: Yep. We want to hear how things are going.

You sigh and look up at the large leaves hanging over your head.

Whitlock sent 1100: Sounds like a plan

No need to drop any major bombshells until you know what was going on.

Wilson sent 1101: 😊 Great!

And you have a couple of days to figure it out.

Today should have been a good day for the BAU. Tyler Green was apprehended before he could use the kill kit, but it was a clusterfuck of a joint task force with Domestic Terrorism. The BAU had gone after Green and Rossi had refused to call JJ and Luke back when ordered, which pissed Bailey off. But the deputy director had a sniper in place that he failed to mention to them. So, they were all in the wrong and kept secrets from one another since the two divisions didn’t trust either side. Everything settled into place with no casualties, but the fallout was intense.

Bailey’s press conference announced to Sicarius that they were on to him and right after it was over, fired Rossi as unit chief. He then ordered Prentiss to install a new team leader that would report directly to him. So of course, she said fuck that and would work two jobs. He wouldn’t approve of anyone currently on the team, and she wouldn’t approve of anyone else since Bailey would immediately try and manipulate the new member against them.

Emily would always protect her team.

Then a few hours ago, the case grew interesting as the team deduced that Green was Garcia’s informant. He never had any intention of setting off the bomb, already neutralizing the kill kit. The disgraced army veteran was attempting to lure Sicarius out by infiltrating his network so he could kill him for murdering his sister.

One saving grace for Emily is that everyone was on high alert today that no one questioned where you were. She didn’t offer any insight, either. Not that she had any.

You didn’t show up for work and she received no contact from you, nor anything from Langley. Not like she was going to poke that hornet’s nest. Until the issue of you and the contract came up, Emily had real work to do.

Which was a ton of it. More files and paperwork had exponentially piled up on her desk in a matter of hours. The long hours at work were about to double.

“Hey, Emily.”

She looks up with a tired smile towards Rossi as he approaches her desk. “Dave.”

“What a day, huh?” He sits down, folding his hands across his stomach.

Emily partly snorts as she leans back in her chair. “That’s being kind.”

His lips slightly turn upwards to acknowledge the severity of the unspoken truth of the BAU leadership shake up, but he was here for another reason. “You know, I was hoping to speak to Whitlock today.”

“Oh?” she gave away nothing but polite curiosity as to why Dave was interested in you.

“Wanted to finish our conversation from yesterday, but she never came in.” He studies Emily intently.

She doesn’t look away and says nothing to confirm or deny what he said.

“Her desk is clean,” he supplies after motioning over his shoulder towards the couch. “No Diet Coke bottles.”

Emily wouldn’t have guessed your soda addiction would end up being the clue to your absence.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” he presses.

She licks her lips, tapping pen in hand lightly on the desk as she struggles on how to begin.

Rossi chuckles at seeing her inwardly battle on what to say. “Wow. That bad?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It was.”

“What was the argument about?”

Her face scrunches up as she takes a deep breath before explaining. “Not trusting her.”

His brows raise with admonishment.

“Oh, don’t do that. I have every right not to,” she argues firmly.

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that there’s absolutely nothing substantial on record about her.” She shakes her head with contempt. “You know she had legal trouble?” Rossi shakes his head that he didn’t. “That’s how she knows Wilson. Helped her out of it.”

He fans his hands out unconvinced. “And?”

“She admitted her file’s sealed and she did nothing wrong. That she made the right call in the field.”

“Every member of the BAU has been in trouble at some point or another in similar circumstances. Legal and otherwise,” he says with the tone of a wise, patient, parent. “And we’re not aware of any significant reprimand, otherwise why retain a high rank in the CIA.”

“Yes, but I know all of you. I don’t know her.”

“Hotch didn’t know you when you joined. Yet here you are.” He gestures around Hotch’s former office. “Section Chief.”

She remains unconvinced, face hardened with mistrust.

“Come on, Emily. Even you were given the opportunity to prove yourself. Why can’t you afford the same arm length courtesy?”

That is the question, isn’t it? Why doesn’t she like you besides the overall mistrust. Again, there were a lot of similarities to your careers that she should have some sympathy towards you and your situation. But it’s difficult to shake your reasoning for helping Wilson with this immense favor of the BAU budget resolution.

“It’s the stipend. Or the amount of the stipend that unburied us,” she admits carefully.

“Ah.” He smiles. “Too good to be true?”

“Yes,” she nods. “And why does she even has that much to use? Whatever happened was big and I don’t want that drama effecting the BAU.”

“Wow. Emily, with all due respect, that’s very hypocritical of you after what happened wi-“

“Don’t you dare.” She swivels the chair to face him fully. “Don’t you dare compare what happened with Doyle with her.”

“Why? Because you have nothing to compare the drama with?” He scoffs as she nods in affirmation. “Why does it matter?”

“Because Bailey’s still breathing down my neck trying to disband the unit and is clearly finding new creative ways to do it since the budget is no longer an issue.” She rests her head against the high back chair, staring at the ceiling.

Dave stiffens in the chair. “Emily, what exactly happened with you and Whitlock?”

She pensively pulls her lips together as she closes her eyes. “I may have admitted … that I only cared about her because of the money.”

Rossi could not help the surprise look on his face. “Emily, no …”

She sighs and opens her eyes, a hint of regret etching into her words. “I was angry after she joked about being the BAU sugar mama. Everything after that went to shit.”

He was starting to get tired of Emily speaking around what actually happened between the two of you. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have no idea if Whitlock is still on board.” She raises her hand futilely at her office door. “She left, probably for good. Which means our contract with her is null and void.”

“And the money we were hoping for …”

“… doesn’t come,” she finishes soberly.

“And you didn’t think to contact her to see where she stands in all of this?”

“Oh, it did cross my mind,” she answers ruefully. “I just haven’t. And to be fair, the shit we dealt with today made it a low priority.”

Rossi wasn’t sure how being in exorbitant debt would be a low priority if the expectant help wasn’t coming. “And now?”

She finally shifts her gaze towards Rossi, lost. “I don’t know.”

“Sure, you do,” he chides as he stands up. “You just need to apologize.”

You were glad that the sports bar, Buddy’s, was still around to enjoy the football preseason despite the Bears not playing tonight. You were a true fan of your hometown team. Thick and thin, you bitched and cheered after every play during a Bears game, loyally critical. Perhaps you should be a tad loyal to the Commanders since you lived in the D.C. area when off mission, but you honestly didn’t care. You were happy to enjoy any game that was playing on the screens over the bar counter.

Right now, the Giants were playing the Patriots in a close game as you sat at the bar nursing a Stella on draft with a bowl of gumbo. Brian still didn’t know of your indecision, though you did end up feeling a twinge of guilt after watching the shitshow of a press conference Bailey held earlier today.

He was such a fucking tool, broadcasting that the FBI was on to Sicarius and taking full credit of capturing the unsub in Allaband Park. There was no way that the operation was a success without the BAU there and even you knew that Prentiss was just in the background to show that everyone was playing nice.

You briefly wonder if you could have helped the team, or more accurately, would have been allowed to help the team today if her majesty could get over her mistrust of you.

At least Brian had texted to check on you after hearing of Green’s capture.

Dad sent 1534: You ok?

Whitlock sent 1603: Yeah I’m good

Dad sent 1632: Glad to hear it.

You made sure to allow enough reasonable time before responding to make it look like you were busy after the capture, and to answer truthfully without being specific.

“Oh, come on!” You gesture at the screen when a defensive lineman wasn’t covered and sacked the Giants quarterback.

You didn’t really care who wins but you would always call out stupid plays, and that was one major fuck up. As the Giants took a time out, you went back to your gumbo and felt the counter vibrate twice, indicating a message was received. You had missed who it was from and go to unlock the screen …

… and drop your spoon in the bowl in shock.

Overlord sent 1932: I’d like to meet up and discuss last night.

Never did it cross your mind to think that you’d get a text from Emily fucking Prentiss.

You’re motionless as you stare at the screen, hands resting on either side of your meal and the phone as you consider the offer. Let alone that there was an offer so soon. You pinch your brows before you pick up the phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

You write out several replies to get the smartass comments out of your system.

Fuck off

New phone, who dis?

Make sure when you come the pole’s dislodged from your ass

Now you wanna talk?

Oh I’m so relieved that the queen wishes to make time for her lowly servant

Are you drunk?

Each one was deleted, and Emily was probably wondering why it was taking so long for you to respond if she saw you were constantly typing a reply.

And what was going to be your real one?

You swallow down several gulps of beer, decision made.

Whitlock sent 1946: Sure. Come to Buddy’s. Know where it is?

You were tired of Prentiss having the home field advantage and if she really was earnest in wanting to speak, she would come to you.

Overlord sent 1949: I do not

Must not be her scene and thinking back to her office, there was no sports stuff displayed there, unlike the glimpses of Cubs gear in Rossi’s office when you walked by.

Whitlock sent 1950: I sent you the location

Overlord sent 1952: Got it. See you in about an hour

You fought the urge to send, ‘It’s a date!’, and simply set your phone aside. You were proud of yourself for behaving and flag the bartender over, immediately handing her your Platinum American Express card. “Start a tab, will ya?”

The blonde bartender that had been working your side of the bar counter took it with a smile. It accentuated her stud piercing above her lip. “Sure thing, sweetie.”

“Oh! And do me a favor?” Your eyes were alight with mischief that made the woman pause. “When you see a grumpy looking woman dressed like a Fed walk in, bring her a glass of your best red.”

It took Emily ten minutes to find a parking space, not expecting a sports bar to be this busy on a Thursday night. At least the five minute walk was pleasant with the light breeze and night clear enough of cloud cover to enjoy the bright crescent moon hovering in the sky. It was off center, reminding her of the Chesire Cat’s grin. Which then reminds her of you and your antics.

Ugh. Please don’t be an ass tonight.

As she enters, she immediately spots you, recognizing the suede jacket of yours hanging over the back of the bar stool to your left. She guesses it is to save a spot for her. As she approaches, she takes in your relaxed appearance, causally watching the game and sipping at the glass of beer you cradle with a hand on the counter. You had your hair pulled back in a loose braid that rested against a black tee and wore jeans that were fraying at the end that covered the top of brown work boots.

Before she even had a chance to greet you, a glass of red wine appears on the counter next to you. She catches the bartender and you sharing a knowing look before she disappears to take care of someone else.

“Hey, Prentiss.” You turn to remove your jacket and place it back where it belongs behind you.

Emily shrugs her long coat off and hangs it over the back of the chair. You couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looks. It wasn’t the clothes, no. There were a lot of suits that end up relaxing at a sports bar - throwing back some beer and cocktails as they yell at the screens in joy or contempt. It was why the beer and cocktails menu were long and the wine list short. And it was why Prentiss got a basic cabernet sauvignon while you got many drafts on tap to choose much to your delight.

She sits beside you and gestures to the drink. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Your face scrunches together in repentance. “Consider it an apology for basically calling you a functional alcoholic.”

You take a sip of your beer while watching highlights from the game. The Giants had won by a field goal.

Prentiss nods as she takes a sip from her glass. She makes a light face of approval at the taste of the wine. “Ironic offering this to the maybe functional alcoholic.”

“Touche.”

You both grow silent, Prentiss trying to recover from the peace offering she was drinking and the fact you apologized first. It was commendable to be the bigger person when Emily was in the wrong.

“Do you normally come to places like this?” she asks carefully, seeing where you two stand right now in this conversation.

“Nah. Just didn’t want to be at the apartment doing the same thing.” And you didn’t need to cook, which was a bonus.

“You like,” she gestures to the screen and awkwardly asks, “football?”

You found it cute she was trying.

“I’m not a die hard fanatic, but I enjoy the game a lot.” You finally turn to look at her. “I take it you’re not a fan.”

She shakes her head no and meets your gaze. “I am not.”

“Of all sports, right?”

“That would be right.”

You both stare at one another for a few moments before you shift in your chair to lean against the counter, resting your elbow on top to prop up your head. “If it helps to shake off some of my mystique, I’m a Bears fan. You probably don’t understand how sad that it is, but it is. My team sucks but I’ll always root for them.”

That jibe made Emily relax, even making the curves of her mouth turn upwards just enough to realize what you were getting at. “So, you’re saying you’re loyal?”

You nod. “I am. To those who treat me right.”

Emily takes a long sip of her wine to marinate on the accusation she deserves. You wait her out, watching Emily pay attention to commentary and statistics she doesn’t give a shit about on the screens across from you.

“I shouldn’t have referred to you as a means to an end.” Her hands rest on the base of the wine glass, steadying the drink as much as her own words. “It’s difficult for me to …”

You watch as she chews over what to say.

“… for me to trust you.”

You inwardly sigh and drop the arm holding your head up. Your body went on the defense, as did your tone. “Yes, we’ve been through this …”

“It’s not without reason,” she supplies quickly, but not rudely, as she cuts you off.

“I agree. But you dehumanized me,” you reply bitterly. “I was basically your money whore.”

“I didn’t …” But Emily pauses, realizing the joke you made was not your usual smartass retort, but a self-deprecating comment of how hurt you were.

She remembers you saying that you hide your trauma with humor, and what you just said admitted to a painful past of being underappreciated or undeserving.

“Stop profiling me, Prentiss,” you warn, eyes pleading.

She backs down and nods. “I’m sorry. It’s defensive most of the time in situations like this.”

“Okay, that I can understand. Social shit isn’t my forte either. Especially through all the bullshit we’ve been through.” You hold up your hands on the immediate defense as Prentiss starts to look suspicious. “And I mean generally. I’m not talking about any specifics. But people like us, with the shit we’ve done and lived through, have intense self defense mechanisms and shitty coping skills that we see everything’s a threat until we get to understand one another.”

“Ah,” she slowly nods. “Yes. That’s very true.” Then she narrows her eyes at you. “Why couldn’t you be this reasonable last night?”

“Why did you have to be a bitch?” you counter.

“Fair point,” she chuckles and looks aggrieve. “I was painfully informed I was as such earlier today.”

“Hence the text?”

“Mhm.”

“Well … good.” You down more of your drink as Prentiss does with hers, both avoiding the unspoken question - were you staying with the BAU?

Though as you watch the section chief, you see a shift in her facial features. A harden look as she comes to a decision inside her head.

“How about we start over.”

“Like, how?” you found this perplexing.

“Like this.” She turns on the stool and holds a hand out before you. “Hi, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding yesterday. I’m Section Chief Emily Prentiss.”

Your eyes go wide and look down at the olive branch. You could hear Brian’s voice reminding you that you never quit on anyone and why you shouldn’t start now.

So, you take Emily’s hand and squeeze it. “Special Agent Y/N Whitlock. Nice to meet ya.”

She lightly smiles before releasing your hand, but she starts to dread the roguish look you're directing towards her. “What?” she questions slowly, draping her arm over the back of the bar stool.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” Your smile disarms her as you notice she was genuinely concerned this would degrade into another misunderstanding. “I know you don’t know me, and I can’t say much, but to start this partnership off better, how about you get to ask me one question, and I promise to answer it to the best of my ability without joking around.”

Her lower lip protrudes with consideration. “All right.” She takes a hefty swallow of wine and sets it down to look you directly in the eyes. “How did you join the CIA?”

“Fuck,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can’t say.”

You watch as the tiny bit of the wall Emily had taken down starts to build right back up. The shift in her brown eyes makes you feel miserable. “Wait!” you urge. “Please. I really can’t say, and that’s the truth. But I can offer something related to it.”

Emily becomes intrigued. “Go on.”

“Brian Korogoth recruited me.”

“Brian … Korogoth?” she repeats back for clarification.

“Yes.”

“The current Director of the CIA?” she stabs the counter with her index finger for emphasis.

“Yep.”

“That Brian Korogoth?” Emily needs to ask it again to make sure she was hearing this right.

“To be fair, he wasn’t that when I met him, but … yes.”

It took a few minutes for Emily to digest this new information. She had briefly worked with Korogoth when she was in JTF-12 before the Doyle case. He was an intelligent and calculating man. A natural leader. He liaised between JTF-12 and Interpol to track down members of the Armed Islamic Group* in Great Britain when a string of car bombings had occurred.

“Wow. Okay then.” She blinks a few times in realization and feels a newfound respect for the woman before her.

“I should have probably led with that when we first met to save us from all the bullshit between us, huh?” you say, as if reading her thoughts.

She laughs, an honest laugh, that echoes quite lovely over the din of patrons. “Probably, yes.”

You hold up your glass and offer Prentiss a bright smile. “To starting over?”

Emily didn’t hesitate in reaching for her wine glass to clink it against your drink. “To starting over.”

*Also known as the GIA

Chapter 6

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Taglist:

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

[bohemianblasphemy]

can you write maybe billyxreader where reader finds out he slept with maeve and it bothers them and billy reassures them that it wasn’t serious and he loves reader, and they ask him to prove it.

i love a lil angsty smut ✨

@billybutcherrtrash

Numb.

That was all that you could feel in that moment. The abundance of tension in that room where the Boys had their meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Butcher had dropped some intel for their mission to take down Homelander; the superweapon that had supposedly killed Soldier Boy, as well as a small supply of Temp V.

It was however, when he casually dropped the bombshell of how he got this information, which was in the form of sleeping with Queen Maeve.

“Purely transactional, nothin’ else.” He’d grin, before continuing the meeting as if it didn’t mean anything- especially to you.

Billy was a complicated man- He’s determined to get what he wants, even if it meant to sleep with the enemy.

Nothing could have prepared you for that news, the pressure of his words hung on you like dead weight. Uncertainties filled your mind as you thought about the obvious feelings that you and Billy shared for each other.

“Did what we have matter to him? Or was it just to fill in the void?”

It seemed that everyone besides Butcher, who was still yapping away was focused on you and how you were feeling; sending invisible messages of sympathy and pity toward you as you sat there motionless trying to subdue your pain.

Trying to avert your mind to anything else than what you just heard had proved unsuccessful, the image of him and Maeve burned into your brain.

The day was unbearably long, it was too much for you, choosing to feign illness and left for home early. Butcher saw right through your getaway, knowing deep down why you did.

As night fell, your apartment was quiet. Sitting on your small couch as you looked out the window, ruminating thoughts of his ‘transaction’ still fresh in your head.

Knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you made your way to look through the peep hole, seeing none other than Billy himself.

A part of yourself wanted to tell him to fuck off, the other begging to open the door. The latter of your thoughts won as you opened the door- Butcher waltzing in without so much as an acknowledgement.

“Well yes, of course come right in!” Your voice oozed sarcasm and annoyance as you shut the door. He snapped around to look at you.

“You ain’t sick, i know that.” he grumbled. “talk to me, i ain’t leavin’ till ya do.” You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms as you stared at him- staying silent as you figured out the words to say.

“Why her, Billy?” you choked on your words, not looking him in the eye. “How could you think that was okay to sleep with someone else?” Butchers expression showed regret and annoyance at himself, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Love, it wasn’t serious. It was just for the job- nothin’ more, nothin’ less!” his voice rose. “you know the shit i gotta do for the Boys.”

“just for the job?! are you serious right now?” you echoed his words, disbelief laced through your tone. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

Silence fell over the both of you, surrounded by uncomfortable tension. “You didn’t think of me at all?” your voice cracked, Butcher looking over at you with a guilt ridden expression as he strides over to you- placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” he looked into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your anger. “I. Love. You. only you, you get me?” He looked for a sign in your eyes, anything to indicate how you felt.

He sighed. “Maeve and I… it was nothin’, she means nothin’ to me. Nothing like how i feel about ya. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one i want.”

Your heart raced at his words, but the hurt you felt in your heart still lingered.

“Then prove it…”

You challenged, seeing Billy’s eyes widen.

“Show me that i am the only one you love.” you stepped toward him, the short distance closed between you.

“Oh I’ll prove it to ya alright…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Before you could even speak his hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue invading your mouth as he backed you up toward the nearest wall; he hands running up under your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Goosebumps formed along your now bare torso, Butchers calloused hands roaming around your body.

“God you’re just… fuckin’ stunning.” he mumbled as his lips attached to your neck and sucking a red mark onto you, making you purr.

His lips trailed further down as he sat on his knees in front of you you, his digits working on the drawstring on your pants as he pulls them down your thighs along with your underwear.

With a swift movement he turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart.

“Bend over f’me…” he growled, his voice laced in arousal. Obeying his word, you pushed your hips backward, hands braced against the wall- hearing him groan softly at the sight before him.

You heard him shuffle forward, his large fingers dug into your fleshy backside. “I can’t get enough’f this pussy…” he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your folds, burying his face between your legs.

The sinful mix of your moans and Butchers mouth moving along you filled the room. Your legs shook as Billy continued lapping his tongue on you, occasionally smacking you ass causing you to yelp.

Your orgasm came quickly, Billy’s hands holding you up as your legs shook from the overwhelming pleasure of his skilled tongue. “God lovey, i could taste you for hours…” he chuckled, gently biting your ass cheek as he stood back up behind you, unzipping his jeans.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good love…” you felt him line up with you, moaning as he started to tease your sopping cunt with the tip of his cock before plunging deep inside of you.

Hot breath invaded your ear as you were pounded into from behind, Billy taking a grip of your hair.

“You feel me huh? you feel how f-fuckin’ ‘ard i am f’ya?” he grumbled, grabbing your hips roughly. “It’s all f’you. no one else but you, ya hear me?”

You couldn’t reply, the pleasure was too overwhelming for you. Rough fingers snaked down towards your middle, rubbing your sensitive clit.

You whined at the added sensation as your second release was near, Butcher nearing his as his cock pulsated within your walls.

Heavy groans erupted from behind you, his fingers moving faster as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck Billy!” you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock…” he growled in your ear.

His thrusts became sloppier as he came inside you. “fuck… i can’t get over you, my sweetheart…” he praised, turning you around and bringing you in for a passionate kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss he looked you, looking in your eyes - hoping to find a glimpse of convincing you of his love.

Your eyes look at him with a neutral expression.

“As good as that was…” you giggled, moving your mouth closer to his ear.

“it’s gonna take a lot more convincing…”

[angel-of-the-moons]

can you do some bratty reader x johnny cage :33 need him so bad 😭

HELLS YEA I CAN

(Also because it wasn't specified which Johnny, I'm gonna go with MK1 because the things I would do to with this man--)

Bad Kitten

Johnny Cage x Bratty!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, bratty!reader, bit of a dom!Johnny (but not much), pool sex, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Being Johnny Cage's girlfriend had its perks.

Living in Malibu in his gorgeous mansion was one of them. As well as having a bomb ass pool that went all the way inside the house, too.

It was no biggie to pop in for a swim whenever you wanted to engage in your "fish instinct brain" that Johnny called it. In fact, when Johnny couldn't get a hold of you while he was on set, or you weren't answering he knew he could find you floating in the pool, one of your favorite shows playing on the TV nearby as you lazily kicked your feet about in the water.

You were a bombshell, a true prize, Johnny would tell everyone.

But the one thing that confounded him the most, was your bratty and playful personality. You were a smartass, a bit of a prankster, and a maddening tease.

An intoxicating cocktail that he couldn't resist (and found stupidly sexy).

But sometimes... You needed some reminding as to who you were playing with. And right now was one of those times.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at you, his shoes just inches from the edge of the pool, his expensive silk shirt wet and damp from where you splashed him, soles squeaking on the expensive tile.

"C'mon, Kitten..." He said, crossing his arms over his chest, frowning down at you, a bite to his tone.

"Because of you, I have to go change now. We're gonna miss our reservations."

"So?" You grin up at him, doing a lazy backstroke, thrusting your chest up out of the water so your breasts were on display, your bikini top leaving little to the imagination.

You could see his Adams apple bob in his throat as he licked his lips. You couldn't see his glasses behind his shades, but you knew damn well what he was looking at.

"Baby, c'mon..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nah. Fish brain demands water." You laugh, kicking your foot out and splashing water onto his shoes, causing him to step back with a sputter.

Somewhere along that time, Johnny slipped on the water you'd splashed earlier, landing flat on his ass and sending his glasses skittering across the floor.

"All right, that's it!" Johnny growled, moving to get back on his feet.

"You are in for--" He was cut off when your bikini top came flying at him and hit him square in the face.

His mouth dropped open when he looked at you, the setting sun casting fiery colors on the water, reflecting up onto the walls in a mystical array of patterns, the light of the sunset illuminating around you as you spun in the water, a cheeky grin on your face as your breasts freely bobbed in the water.

"In for what, baby?" You purr, sticking your tongue out at him. "Gotta catch me if you wanna get your point across..."

Johnny gave you a grin that sent a thrill down your spine, and he started pulling his clothes off.

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

"I'm soo-oo-rrr-rrryyy!" You whimpered, squirming to get free from his relentless grasp.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Johnny said casually, as he rolled and pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. Your bikini bottoms had long since been untied, floating somewhere in the pool.

He had been at it for nearly an hour and a half. Your bodies were already pruning, but that didn't stop him.

"You got my floor wet, Kitten." Johnny sighed in your ear as he gave you another pinch, his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping your back pinned to his front.

"Got my clothes wet, made us miss our dinner reservation..." He rolled your clit beneath his water-wrinkled thumb.

"Made me drop my glasses, too. If those lenses are scratched... Well." He grinned into the skin of your shoulder.

"This is what happens to bad pussies, you know. You gotta learn your actions have consequences, babe."

You groaned at his crude metaphor, and made a shaky moan. Your throat was dry and scratchy, your tongue feeling like sandpaper from your whining, squealing, and moaning you'd done since he started this torture.

You felt the flames of your orgasm, so close to completely engulfing you, and you felt your heart speed up again at the promise of release.

But Johnny? Oh, he knew your body like that back of his hand, by now.

He knew how to read you the way a blind man reads a book written in braille; and he was always eager to study when it came to you.

And that, is precisely why he stopped, merely tapping his finger on your engorged clit, sighing as you thrashed, a needy sob coming from you as water splashed around you, your legs kicking weakly in protest.

"Johnny!" You cried, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

"Mmm?" He hummed innocently, still tapping your clit in a way that was just pure torture, each point of contact sending lightning bolts striking up through you.

You could feel the hardness of his cock was pressed firmly against your ass, yet Johnny seemed perfectly content to ignore it in favor of driving you to the brink of insanity with just his fingers.

"God--just--fucking--" You cry, throwing your head back.

"Hey, now, keep talking like that and I'm gonna make sure you never get off." Johnny grinned at you, kissing your cheek.

"Johnny, I'm sorry--" You hiccuped pathetically. "Just please!"

"Please what, baby?" He cooed.

"Fu--please. Please please pleasepleaseplease let me cum."

"Aaaaaand?" He chuckled, swiping at your clit again.

"I'm sorry I got you wet!" You sobbed. "Ah-and--and made us miss d-dinner!"

"That's my girl! Knew you could do it!" He encouraged with a kiss to your shoulder.

When he pulled his hand away from your, you whined, thinking that he was messing with you and wouldn't give you the relief he had been teasing you with and yanking out of your fingers.

But when he spun you around and started to grind his cock against your folds in the water? You felt your mind get foggy with the promise of having his cock fuck you into oblivion.

"Been wanting to fuck you in the pool for a while." He grunted as you blindly reached down to line him up, sinking down so the tip of his cock popped into your aching hole.

Johnny tipped his head back with a deep groan that rumbled in his chest as you speared yourself down, nails biting into the wet skin of his shoulders, sliding down to leave deep red grooves in the skin.

"Goddamn, Kitten. You're so tight."

"Ah, god--fuck." You whine, desperately trying to get into a rhythm that you could settle into.

But it was hard. The slickness of the water made it difficult; awkward and hard to find purchase. You were getting frustrated now, and made an angry whine.

Johnny chuckled tightly and took pity on you, his feet planting on the tiles of the pool below (thankfully you were on the shallow end, right now) as he grabbed your hips.

He used the water to help him move you as he arched his back, thrusting up into you with vigor.

You squealed and doubled over as he rammed himself in mercilessly.

When he tipped his hips up in a certain way, your mind went blank with the white-hot pleasure that sparked in your blood. The flames of your orgasm that Johnny had been edging from you finally combusted, engulfing you in the choking flames with a frayed wail; your muscles clamping down on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sniffling from the overstimulation as he continued to slam up into you, his arms caging you against his chest.

"Fuck, so good for me, baby." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Doing so. Fucking. Good." He grunted, punctuating each word with a harsh snap of his hips.

"Johhhnnnnyyyyy..." You mewled as his dick dragged in and out of your gummy walls.

"Fuck!" He rolled his eyes back with a deep moan, swallowing hard.

He knew he was going to cum soon, he never lasted long when you were this worked up and tight.

But damn, was it fun to work you up.

Johnny made a whimper in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, biting down as his orgasm started to crest.

He had the mental acuity enough to pull out before he started to cum, milky white ropes spurting out of his swollen and achy tip, lazily wafting about in the waves that splashed around the two of you.

You both almost collapsed, letting the push and pull of the water ease your muscles.

"...Im thinking we should order out tonight." Johnny grinned at you.

"Up for some Chinese?"

[amirasainz]

i really love this series sm and can u make baby!sainz and carlos’s cute moments from childhood with each other or with their parents. thank you!

Ohhh, this was so sweet to write. I really like the Easter part, because me and my siblings would do something like that as well.

I hope you have fun reading and please send some requests!

-XoXo

Childhood memories

The Arrival Young Carlos’s excitement about having a sibling—someone to share adventures with, especially karting—was palpable. But when he learned it was a girl, his disappointment was equally intense. Why couldn’t he have a little brother like he’d hoped? Blanca and Ana had each other for Barbie playdates; why couldn’t he have a buddy too?

His parents tried to console him, suggesting that maybe the new baby would share his love for karting. But Carlos remained unconvinced. It was the night before his sister’s arrival, and he sat with his Papá on the swings, contemplating his impending role.

“You have a really important job now, Carlos,” his Papá said, capturing his attention. “What job, Papá? Am I gonna be a Ninja?” Carlos’s imagination ran wild. But his father’s response was even better: “No, mijo. Something even more significant. With three little sisters now, you need to be their protector. Especially for Amira—she’ll be too little to take care of herself. Can you do that for her, Carlitos?”

Carlos’s promise was unwavering. “Of course, Papá. I’ll be the best big brother for Amira. Promise.”

And so it began—the moment Amira arrived home, she had her personal bodyguard. Carlos took his role seriously, watching over her with fierce determination.

The first Vaccination It was no secret that Carlos loved his little sister dearly. His baby sister, just six months old, had already wrapped him around her tiny finger. And Carlos didn’t mind one bit; in fact, their parents found it utterly sweet.

But when he heard Amira cry during their doctor’s visit, it shattered Carlos’s heart. As a six-month-old, she needed her vaccinations promptly. Like any other baby, Amira wailed when the needle pricked her tiny arm.

The worst part? Carlos felt utterly helpless. His Mamá explained that it was crucial for Amira’s safety to receive all her vaccinations. But he couldn’t bear to hear his sister’s heart-wrenching sobs any longer. Tearfully, he turned to the doctor: “Senora Doctora, can’t you give my sister something else? She’s in so much pain.” He cradled Amira in his arms, holding her like a precious teddy bear.

The doctor and his Mamá exchanged a knowing look. “I’m afraid not, little Señor Carlos,” the doctor replied gently. “However, when we’re done here, little Amira will be protected from all the illnesses out there.” Carlos’s eyes searched hers. “Promise?” he asked. “Promise,” she assured him.

And so, with that solemn vow, Carlos held his sister close, knowing that her well-being was worth every tear shed during those necessary vaccinations.

Stupid Boys Ah, the complexities of sibling dynamics and growing up! Young Carlos found himself in a predicament when his six-year-old sister, Amira, casually dropped the bombshell: “My boyfriend Diego colored me a picture.” Carlos’s reaction was nothing short of dramatic: “Wait, what? What do you mean your boyfriend? Gatita, you’re only six years old!” His protective instincts kicked in, and he couldn’t fathom the idea of his baby sister having a boyfriend already. Before he could say anything else, his sister ran to her older sisters.

Throughout dinner, Carlos attacked his peas with more aggression than necessary. His Mamá, ever observant, asked, “Carlos, what’s wrong, aye? What did the peas do to you?” Blanka, the family joker, chimed in: “Maybe he saw himself in the reflection.” Ana and Amira erupted into giggles, and their father had to intervene with a stern “Girls.”

But Carlos couldn’t let it go. “Amira, you don’t need a boyfriend yet,” he nearly whined. The simultaneous “Boyfriend?” from his parents revealed their differing perspectives. His Mamá seemed delighted, while his Papá sounded more serious. And his sisters? Well, they “uhhhh”-ed in unison.

Amira spilled the beans about Diego, and the whole family listened intently. At the end of her story, their father weighed in: “Your brother is right, mija. You’re too young.” A secret wink followed towards Carlos, and Carlos felt a surge of validation. His father had his back.

As his sisters continued to protest to Papá about the perceived unfairness, Carlos realized that if his sisters were a team with Mamá, he was definitely part of Team Papá.

Easter Bunny Each year his sisters and Carlos would have a sleepover the night before Easter. Carlos, the protective big brother, found himself in a delightful predicament. As he grew older, the magic of Easter began to fade, but for his little sisters, it remained alive and well. They still believed in the Easter Bunny, and their excitement was contagious.

So, when Carlos was abruptly woken up at 5 am on Easter morning, he found all three of his sisters staring at him with wide eyes. Panic filled the room as they whispered about scary noises—perhaps robbers invading their home. Blanca’s sentence hung in the air, unfinished, when another noise echoed through the house.

Carlos knew the truth, of course. It wasn’t robbers; it was their Papá, stealthily placing Easter presents on the staircase. But he couldn’t spoil the magic for his sisters. Instead, he played along: “Dios mío, it’s the Easter Bunny!” Their faces turned toward him, eyes wide with wonder. “Really?” Ana whispered. “Mhm,” Carlos confirmed, “but we have to go back to sleep. Otherwise, the bunny might hop away without leaving our presents.”

Ana and Blanca scrambled to his sides, burrowing under the blanket. Carlos gently lifted little Amira and settled her on his chest. “Now sleep, you three,” he intimated his best Carlos Sainz Sr. voice. And in that moment, surrounded by his sisters, he felt the weight of his promise—the protector of their childhood magic.

Carlos truly was the best big brother out there, weaving enchantment and love into their shared memories.

[scrumptiousstuffs]

can you do a post of first getting flirted on by khaotung?

This was a challenging post 🤣 because Tumblr has limits on the no of photos, video and I am not an expert in GIFs (although I actually made a video and one GIF by myself! - omg, so proud 😂 but please excuse the poor quality).

Instead, I made a mixture of all of the media. Hopefully anon is fine with my rambling mess (if you have read through my blog, you will know by now, my answers are not 100% coherent, hehe)

So, some of my favourites Khaotung being flirty with his bestie:

1. This moment from OF Recap Twitter session

2. Khaotung giving pouty air kisses to his bestie (its his thing to do hehe) - and usually ends up with said bestie having goosebumps (but First is learning to control the reaction 🤭, as evident by the BTS footage from THK film set)

3. But by far their way of flirting is through them bantering on Twitter (where the boys just use it as their own personal Line) - and all of us thirdwheeling. They do it casually too…from exchanging love letters (my favourite is still the 2 boys expressing their love for each other post LOLFanfest2024)

Or just how nonchalantly FK drop pictures that tells us things - for example 🙂‍↕️ (from 10/10/2024)

🤭 - that’s Khaotung’s shirt (gifted by a fan)

And look 👀, throwback to Khaotung’s pointed comment even back in April 2023 (and we know they share their wardrobe - if that’s not the boys flirting, then I don’t know 🤷🏽‍♀️. Cause nothing screams possessive bffs 👯‍♀️ like watching your love ones dressed in your own clothes or favourite perfumes)

I’ll finish up with a moment from an interview the boys did earlier this year (One D Press Conference) - (this was completely unhinged - and First just looked speechless with Khaotung’s bombshell statement 🫣) 👇🏽

Anon, I will also suggest you watch every single BTS of The Eclipse, OF and MLC if you have not watch them - cause it’s really just the boys flirting with each other 😂 . Similarly, ArmShare episodes featuring the boys during their birthdays (Khaotung - 2022, First - 2023) - the episodes are available on YT with English Subtitles 🫶

And others that I found on Twitter (cause I am only allowed to put one video per post):

Khaotung casually dropping 🤟

The famous FirFir moment

Khaotung calling First his kitty cat