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megalony · 3 days

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Baby, Be Mine

Hello, as promised, here is my newest Dark! Buck request, thank you for the lovely request anon I had so much fun with this I loved writing it.

And I'm hoping to do a follow-up soon.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Evan and (Y/n) have a friends with benefits situation, but Evan wants more. And he knows just how to get it. When she becomes pregnant, Evan becomes possessive.

Enjoy.

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With his arms folded over his chest, Evan tilted his upper body backwards until he was propped up against the fire truck behind him. His fingers began to tap against his arms and his head pressed back against the truck which felt cold and comforting against his burning skin.

He crossed one leg over the other, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor in a typical drumbeat that regulated his system and stopped him from jittering too badly.

A candid smile started to play on his lips and a sparkle crossed over his pupils when he set his sights on the scene playing out ahead of him near the locker room.

(Y/n).

There she was, his girl, knelt down in front of a group of school kids who had come down on a trip to see the station and see how the emergency services worked. There was Evan's girl, chatting to the kids like she had all the time in the world for each and every one of them, talking to them and making them feel like their questions mattered to her.

The smile on her face was one that had Evan's heart soaring in his chest. Her smile made her look so motherly, so kind and affectionate and like the sweetest girl in the world.

Evan loved the way her smile reached her eyes and how she let one of the kids take her hand and begin swinging it between them like a chain.

He loved how all the children levitated to her and wanted to be around her and how she gave them the time of day.

She looked so sweet and innocent talking to the kids.

She looked like a mother. Evan could envision her being a mother, he could see her with a newborn, he could see all of that affection within her pouring out into caring for a child. He could see himself starting a family with her.

What he'd had with Taylor in the past had been fleeting. It had been a whirlwind. A quick, one sided romance that left Evan feeling deflated and broken and like no part of him or his feelings really mattered.

(Y/n) was different. She was everything that was bright and enthusiastic and loving and caring, and Evan loved being with her. He loved the nights where they would meet up or when she would come round to his place and spend the night. He could see them moving in together, having kids together, going on family holidays and bringing her to the station as his partner. He could see himself bringing (Y/n) to all the station events and introducing her as his girl and showing off the family they could have together.

And Evan knew what they had was what he wanted. He knew if given time, they would get into a proper relationship rather than just hooking up together. He knew they would end up together and he could have what everyone else had. A family. A loving partner.

He could be happy. With (Y/n).

His eyes lit up as he watched one of the kids take (Y/n)'s hand and shyly ask her a question. And when (Y/n) shuffled closer to the little girl and started to explain whatever she had asked, Evan's heart could of burst in his chest right then and there.

He couldn't believe how sweet she was. (Y/n) wasn't technically one of them, a firefighter, Hell, she hadn't even started out as an intern here. She had volunteered to help Bobby with audits and paperwork and do any odd jobs he needed. She was volunteering to help out because she enjoyed the atmosphere and got along well with the team, and she wanted to be helpful. It also gave her credit at college where she was studying to become a teacher.

After a few weeks, Bobby took her on as a sort of intern, almost a receptionist role because (Y/n) was such a good help. It meant Bobby had more time to be on the floor and the job with his team rather than being swamped in paperwork, and (Y/n) loved to help.

She worked here twice a week, just for a few hours doing the audits, admin and filing paperwork.

The perfect job for the perfect girl.

His eyes followed her as she gently ushered the kids back towards their teacher who looked like it was time to go back to the school.

Once (Y/n) was up to her feet, leaning against a pillar as she waved goodbye to the kids, Evan took it as his chance.

Pushing himself off the truck, he leaned around and looked for the clipboard that was stashed away in one of the compartments. He knew where it was because he was the one who always took the liberty of checking the inventory and stocking the truck and the ambulance up.

He tucked it safely beneath his arm, cast his eyes around the station and then slowly walked towards (Y/n).

A glimmer lit up his eyes when she turned and headed down the small corridor in between the locker room and the little laundry room on the left. She was aiming for Bobby's office by the looks of it, finishing up the paperwork audits, Evan would guess.

His lips curved into a devilish grin and he quickened his steps, staying light on his feet so she wouldn't hear his approach.

(Y/n)'s body jerked forward and a gasp erupted from her lips when a pair of strong arms bound themselves around her waist. She could feel a scream clawing at the back of her throat until a familiar pair of lips attached to the side of her neck like a vampire.

She twisted her head to the right to look at that familiar crop of sandy hair and a smile formed on her lips, despite the way her heart was bashing against her ribs like a jackhammer.

"Evan. What are you-" She gasped against his mouth when he cut her off mid-sentence.

She felt his hands roaming to her hips and he easily spun her around so she was facing him instead of the corridor. Her hands moved to his broad shoulders to steady herself so she didn't stumble and she felt her knees going weak when Evan quietly groaned into her mouth.

What had gotten into him?

He'd never done this before. He'd never pounced on her for a kiss at the station, or anywhere else for that matter.

The pair of them had had a few hook ups over the last few weeks. It started off as just a one night thing, after drinks with the team at a bar and getting a little too familiar with each other in the taxi they shared. But then it happened again. And again.

She liked Evan. (Y/n) really liked him, but she wasn't sure about getting into a relationship with him. (Y/n) was splitting her time between college and working here at the station. And Evan had only just broken things off with Taylor and she had done a bit of damage to his mind and self-esteem. (Y/n) thought it would be easier to be friends, at least for now, but that was hard when Evan wormed around her. Their friendship had morphed into friends with benefits.

When he pulled back to suck in a breath, he pressed his temple down against hers and (Y/n) swore she could see something pooling in those dark pupils that had all but taken over the expanse of his iris.

She found herself getting lost in trying to decipher that look, so much so that she didn't realise Evan was walking her back until her back hit a wall with a thud.

Evan moved expertly as if he had done this before or in the very least, already had a plan in his mind of what he wanted to do.

His left hand reached out beside them and opened the door to the inventory room and with little effort, he nudged (Y/n) inside and followed suit. His boot gave the door a little nudge to close it behind them and the automatic light flashed overhead. Giving them minimal light in the small space that was barely the size of a small box bedroom.

"Nice dress." He murmured against the corner of her mouth, his voice low and gritty and it made (Y/n) shiver against him.

"Thank you," She murmured softly, tilting her head back so she could look around and see what room he had guided them into. Why had he brought her in here? What was he up to? What was going through that head of his to cause such a loving yet almost devilish smirk to flash over his lips.

She gently brushed her thumb across his jaw, swiping away a mark of dust that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. But her eyes widened and she held her breath when he turned them around so he could walk her back so she was once again backed up against the wall. And he dumped the clipboard from under his arm onto one of the shelves, to be forgotten immediately.

Her chest tightened and her eyes went wide in their sockets, quickly looking around the room as if she thought anyone else could be hiding in here or indeed fit in this poxy room with the two of them. She could barely catch a proper breath with the adrenaline pooling in her stomach when she felt Evan's hands scrunch up the hem of her dress. Which he promptly lifted up until it bunched around her hips, giving himself an eyeful of her thighs and her underwear.

"Evan!" She swatted her hand down on his shoulder, hissing his name before she tried to discourage him and drop his hands, but he only grinned wider in response.

His thumb traced up and down her skin for a few moments and (Y/n) tried to wriggle in his arms, knowing she needed to stop because they were at work. But she was finding it hard to push him away and break out of his embrace. Until he ducked down and attached his lips to the side of her neck.

"Evan, if someone walks in-"

"No one's gonna walk in. We're the only ones who do inventory, sweetheart."

That didn't even deserve an answer. He was baiting her to distract her from what he was doing so he could carry on. And he was right. (Y/n) did inventory audits for Bobby and Evan did the stock levels in the trucks and the ambulance. Hardly anyone else bothered to come in here.

A shudder crawled along (Y/n)'s spine when Evan sank his teeth down into her neck and she found the strength to grab his shoulders and try to push him back. She couldn't risk making a sound. She would be mortified if anyone walked in and caught them. She wouldn't ever dare show her face in the station again.

She had no doubt there were countless others who had copped off in various areas of the station, some people were just like that. But (Y/n) didn't put herself in that category, and she wouldn't have thought Evan would have done this either.

They had never so much as stolen a kiss in the station because they weren't technically in a relationship. They were friends with the odd added benefit every now and then.

This was improper. They shouldn't be doing this; Evan shouldn't be doing this. (Y/n) had to be the level-headed one and put a stop to it.

(Y/n) bit her lip to smother the gasp she felt crawling up her throat when Evan swiftly darted his hand down and hooked a finger in the elastic of her underwear.

All her effort went into her hands and she grasped his wrist, yanking his hand away while she tried to nudge him back.

"We can't."

He leaned his chest down into hers, sandwiching her against him and the wall and she could feel his lips curving into a grin when he stole a hot, feverish kiss from her lips.

"Evan," The way she groaned his name made his fingers clutch her hips again like they were his lifeline and he pressed down on her until she had to concentrate on taking each breath against his lips.

"You look beautiful."

(Y/n) wasn't sure whether he was trying to change the subject or if he was just singing her praises so she wouldn't object. Either way, she could feel herself starting to give in.

Evan could feel himself becoming desperate to elaborate, to say every little thought rushing around inside his head at one hundred miles an hour. He wanted to tell her she looked like a natural when she was pandering to that class of school kids. He wanted to say she looked like she was a mother already, she had the instincts and the caring nature and she was training to be a teacher, after all.

He wanted to tell her she'd look even better if she were pregnant.

He wanted to say that he'd love nothing more than for (Y/n) to be pregnant; for him to get her pregnant.

Evan knew without a doubt if that happened, (Y/n) would get into a relationship with him. She'd stop worrying, stop hesitating when he asked her, she'd be with him and they would be a proper family. Better than the one Evan had growing up. Better than the people he knew who broke apart and left their kids with broken homes.

They would be a proper family.

"You're insatiable," She gasped desperately against his lips, pushing his shoulders but he felt like he was made of stone, far too heavy for her to push back no matter how hard she tried.

A low chuckle left his lips and he drank in every little sound (Y/n) made when he pushed into her again and hiked her dress up even higher, giving himself a better view.

"Hm. And I bet you've missed me." He panted each word against her lips, barely parting so (Y/n) could feel the way his lips moved against hers and she swallowed each word, gulping for the air he'd stolen.

Her eyes darted down to stare at his collar bone instead of his eyes as he started to make a trail down her jaw and along her neck instead.

Evan kissed his way down her skin, between and across her cleavage which caused her to shiver against him.

"I want you."

He wanted her in every sense of the word, and he could already feel the plan formulating in his mind. He could see how this would play out and how things were going to go the way they should, soon.

Things would get better from here on out.

***

A sparkling grin lit up Evan's face when he opened the apartment door to be faced with the girl he hadn't been able to get out of his head.

He leaned his hip against the door and stuffed his free hand into his pocket. He couldn't stop himself from raking his eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame, taking in her appearance. She looked as lovely as ever.

A lot of the time when Evan saw her, especially when they were at the station, (Y/n) often wore vest tops and high-waisted jeans. But more recently, like when they hooked up at the station a few weeks ago, she had been wearing dresses, like the one she wore today.

It was a dusty cream dress with blue hearts dotted all around, no frills at the bottom and the material was thin and loose. But what Evan loved about it was the fact that it was fastened up with string into a neat bow on her right hip. All it would take was for Evan to pull that string loose and the material would fall apart and hang off her shoulders like a cardigan.

Her hair was done up with just a few small, loose tendrils framing her face and Evan felt a sudden urge to knot his fingers into her woven hair.

"Hi." His lips perked up into a grin and he took a step back to motion for (Y/n) to come in.

"Hi Evan."

He hadn't been expecting her today. She never said she was coming round.

Evan had been quite thrilled at the station to find that all he had to do was brush up behind (Y/n) and she would turn into a shivering mess. She would step away from him and give him a stern look to warn him away. Their little tryst in the inventory room had been fun, but (Y/n) wasn't risking it happening again, not at work. She was too nervous about the thought of someone catching them in the act.

His tongue darted out and distorted his smile as he ran his tongue along his lower lip and tilted his head to one side. His eyes following (Y/n) as she brushed against his chest when she passed him to enter the apartment.

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?" Evan followed (Y/n)'s lead as she walked inside and when she pointed towards the living room, he nodded.

Even though she had been here a few times before, she was still nervous to walk around without asking permission.

She started to knot her hands together and dig her nails into the back of her hands as she aimed for the sofa. (Y/n) sat down and did her best to hold her breath to try in vain to control her breathing and stop herself from going into a panic attack.

She had rehearsed this conversation a thousand times in her head. Gone over what she wanted to say, how best to word it, trying to prepare for every possible reaction she could get.

When she sat down, she dragged the hem of her dress down towards her knees and began smoothing her hands up and down her knees. Her eyes followed Evan as he sat down next to her on the sofa. He sat close enough that their thighs were touching and it sent jolts of electricity running through (Y/n)'s nerves, all the way up to her heart that was going ten to the dozen.

"I- I need to talk to you, about something." (Y/n) did her best to smile and control her expression, but she truly had no idea what reaction she was going to get from Evan and it was making her feel sick.

If he had a bad reaction, if he got angry- (Y/n) had never seen him be anything close to angry, only slightly annoyed- she wouldn't know how to respond. If he started to blame her or shout or argue, (Y/n) feared she would break completely. But she couldn't stop thinking that he would hate what she had to tell him.

"Okay… what's going on?" His tone was soft and that dazzling smile was still playing on his lips.

When (Y/n) looked up at him, she realised he had the beginning of stubble gracing his face. It was strangely satisfying to see Evan with stubble rather than a clean shaven face. It made him look rugged and not so boyish, he looked older, more mature like this.

(Y/n) realised she must have been silent for longer than expected because she was brought out of her thoughts by Evan's hand softly yet firmly curling over her own.

"Everything okay?"

She found comfort in his large hand enveloping hers and she moved her free hand to grip his hand like they were playing a strange game of Jenga. Her thumb glided across the back of his hand and she couldn't quite meet his gaze, so her eyes settled on his lips that were especially red like fresh strawberries.

"Evan, I… I'm pregnant."

There. She'd said it. She'd said the words that had been rolling around in her mind for the last three days since she found out. The words that had kept her up last night into the early hours of the morning, wondering how Evan would react and what he would want to do.

Part of her expected him to retract his hand and shuffle away from her like she had some kind of deadly disease.

Instead, his hand tightened around hers and he inched closer until they were almost hip to hip, nearly merging into one. (Y/n) finally lifted her gaze from his lips to his eyes that were wide and deep and the purest shade of blue she had ever seen.

"Really?" Evan was relieved to find his voice filled with shock and an air of surprise.

Not that he was truly surprised, though.

This had been his wish. This is what he had been hoping for, this was the course he wanted their lives to lead. He wanted to entwine them together and bring them closer together. Having a baby meant they would be a family, it meant (Y/n) would always be in his life and more to the point, this meant that they could be in a relationship.

All the times Evan had asked her and (Y/n) said no, she wasn't sure, she wasn't ready, it was a big commitment. Well, there was no bigger commitment than having a baby together and she could hardly turn Evan down now. They were a perfect match, they were meant for one another.

And Evan's ploy had worked. She was pregnant, just like he knew she would be sooner or later.

"Hm," (Y/n) nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. "I don't know what to do." She could feel tears building up behind her eyes, but she pushed them away. She didn't want to cry. Not yet. Not until they had talked and she knew whether she had cause to panic.

"What to do?" Evan reiterated quietly while he sank back into the sofa and brought one leg up to curl beneath him on the sofa.

"I don't know if I'm ready for a baby, I- Evan I'm still in college, I have another year left. And we're not exactly together, I couldn't raise a baby on my own and juggle my work or- or tie you down."

There was so much to think about. Too much, really.

(Y/n) was still training to become a teacher for preschool children, she had another year left before she would be qualified to find a permanent position. She was supposed to do work experience this last year of college, that wouldn't be ideal if she was pregnant.

And she was still young. Evan was older than her. He was already thirty and (Y/n) was closer to eighteen than she was to twenty five. A baby was one of the biggest commitments to make in life and as much as (Y/n) adored children and wanted many in the future, she wasn't sure if she could do this right now.

She had the idea in her head of how her life should go. Get a teaching job, become settled, then get into a stable relationship, move in together and then think about kids and possibly marriage. This was not the path she had set out for herself.

"Who says you can't finish college and have a baby?" His response made (Y/n) look at him quizzically.

"You- you want the baby?"

"Of course." He dragged his free hand through his curls, brushing them back and taming them in the process of trying to calm himself down and not seem too eager.

He didn't exactly want to give away the fact that he had instagated this, that this was what he had been planning and hoping for. But he would never want (Y/n) to think for a moment that he would want her to get rid of this baby. Their baby. He wanted (Y/n). He wanted a family with her, and now it was finally happening and Evan was all too eager for this to happen quickly.

"I've always wanted kids, and you already know I've fallen hard for you." His words made (Y/n) blush and she dipped her head down to look at their entwined hands. "I wouldn't expect you to do this alone. We've got something, a connection, and I think we could try a relationship, do this properly."

"Really?" (Y/n)'s head was swimming so much she feared she might just pass out.

This wasn't the reaction she had been expecting. She didn't think Evan would shout or truly get angry with her, but she had worried he wouldn't be pleased about this.

They weren't in a relationship, they didn't live together, and they hadn't planned this. (Y/n) thought Evan would think a baby would tie him down and tie him to her and that he wouldn't want that. She didn't think he would be so ready and willing to do this.

Her eyes lifted to meet his and she felt her stomach sparking with adrenaline when his hand left her thigh to cup her cheek. And when he leaned his temple against hers, (Y/n) could feel her nerves setting alight.

"You're amazing with kids, I know you'll be a great mum. And nothing would stop you from finishing your last year at college. We'd just have to work out the timing, at the worst you'd graduate a month or two later than expected. We're both grown ups, we can do this."

His words brought a sense of comfort washing over (Y/n) and she nodded before she let Evan steal her breath away when he kissed her. She felt herself turning to jelly when his chest leaned against hers and he practically pushed her down on the sofa until her back was propped up against the arm rest. And Evan was hovering over her, consuming her, lighting up and smothering every one of her senses.

It didn't matter to Evan that (Y/n) was younger than him, it didn't mean they were at different places in their lives. She was learning to be a teacher, she was committed and had roots here, not like Evan at her age when he was moving from state to state, trying to find himself and find his calling. And he was ready to settle down now, with her and only her.

The age difference between them wasn't ludicris and it wasn't a problem, if anything, Evan liked the fact that she was younger.

In his mind, she was going to be the perfect young mum.

"You'd really do this with me? Be with me, have this baby?" (Y/n) spoke in hushed whispers against his lips while she parted her legs to the sides to let Evan rest between her thighs. Since he was practically lying on top of her, one hand still cupping her cheek and the other now curled around her hip while he balanced his weight on his knees so he didn't crush her beneath him.

"Sweetheart, I want this, I want you."

His words were affirming, reassuring and left no room for doubt. He wouldn't have her doubting his commitment to her or the baby. And he didn't want (Y/n) to think that she had to get rid of the baby either. This was a part of them, this was what they wanted. It wouldn't ruin her life or disrupt her career, it would just mean that she was settled down by the time she became a qualified teacher.

Evan detached his lips from hers so he could graze along the side of her neck instead. Baring his teeth just enough to scratch the surface of her skin and leave the slightest mark.

He knew she had loved it last time he left a trace of hickeys along the side of her neck and down towards her cleavage. He had seen the way she bit her lip and adverted her gaze when she had to use make up to cover the marks he left. Showing everyone she'd had a lot of fun with him.

Only now it would mean that she belonged to him.

He dragged his tongue against the slight scratch he'd created against her neck and nudged his nose along the tip of her jaw before he spoke in hushed tones against her throat. "Move in with me."

"What?"

(Y/n) tangled her hand in the short hairs at the back of his head, scraping her nails against his scalp in the process. She tried to tilt her head down but she couldn't quite move her head with Evan tucked into her neck like this.

Had she heard that right? Was he really asking her this? Would it be too soon- was she really considering this?

"Then you're not doing this alone. My place is bigger than yours, and it makes sense, doesn't it? Then I can be here for everything with you, the appointments, the kicks, and I can look after you."

A jolt ran through (Y/n) when she felt Evan's hand glide along her hip to trace the pad of his fingers across her stomach which pulled in at the ticklish feeling. It was far too early for any of that, but it wouldn't stop either of them from thinking what it would be like in a few months when (Y/n) would start to show and they would feel the baby moving.

"When they're here it makes sense to have you both here with me, so I can do my part." His words were spoken in hushed tones against the hollow expanse of (Y/n)'s throat, and he knew his actions were causing her breathing to quicken beneath him.

It did make sense. (Y/n) could see the upside to this. If she moved in with Evan, they could try and make this a proper relationship, they could see if they could make things work and provide a stable home for this baby. It meant they could prepare for the baby together, get things ready when the time was nearer. And Evan could indeed experience this with her.

And he was right, after the baby was born it wouldn't be a good idea to be living separately if Evan was going to help take care of the baby and do his role as a father. Plus, if they made this work together and their relationship worked out, it would only be logical that they moved in together.

(Y/n) was already pregnant so moving in together wasn't that much of a large jump to make in the scale of relationships.

(Y/n) leaned her cheek on top of Evan's head, nuzzling her skin into his curls while she wormed her arms around his shoulders to hug him. "I- I was so worried, that you wouldn't be happy."

"Oh sweetheart," He lifted his head from her neck to hover over her again while he shimmied round and laid out on his front between her thighs. "You've no idea how buzzing I am right now."

He kissed her once, twice, and then again until (Y/n) was gasping for breath and her head was swimming.

This is the news he had been praying for, this is what he had been begging to happen and now it was finally here. Everything was going to go his way, how could Evan he anything but happy?

***

"You okay, sweetheart?" Evan tilted his head to one side and moved both hands to grip his hips when he stood in the doorway to Bobby's office.

(Y/n) was knelt down on the floor, her head leant up against the desk, a few different piles of paper scattered around her and a faraway look in her eyes. Her hands were resting on her lap, but Evan could see she was slightly trembling as if the aircon was on and the room was brisk and cold.

He didn't like the frown that pulled at her lips when she flopped her head back so she could squint up at him.

He rolled his lips together and headed into the room before squatting down beside her. His knees parted out to the sides and his hands clasped together between his legs while he raised a brow and waited silently to find out if anything was wrong.

"I- I just feel a bit sick, I'm okay." (Y/n) did her best to force a smile onto her face, but she knew Evan saw right through it. Her body shuddered when his hand reached up to press beneath her chin and he tilted her head back when she was about to drop her head down.

"You don't look okay to me."

The unspoken look that transgressed between their eyes told Evan that they both knew the cause of this. Morning sickness. Evan had gotten up with her at five this morning when she felt unwell and subsequently stumbled to the bathroom to throw up. He told her to stay home, but she seemed to of been feeling a bit better. Obviously the sickness feeling had come back with vengeance again.

"Go home." Evan pecked her temple and brushed his thumb along her chin, but he didn't like the way (Y/n) sighed and shook her head.

"It's the end of the month, every audit needs checking, submitting and filing. Besides, I've not been here an hour yet."

(Y/n) couldn't just pack up and go home. She only came into the station three hours a day, twice a week. She couldn't go home when every audit needed grouping together, checking then she would have to file them away. (Y/n) didn't like to fall behind on her work in any aspect and she wanted this done so she wouldn't have so much to do when she came back in a few days.

She gently pulled her head from Evan's hand and leaned forward to smother her face into his chest instead. She smiled against his shirt when she felt his fingers weave into her hair and his lips mesh against the top of her head.

"So do the audits at home."

"Hm?"

"Baby, Bobby won't care whether you organise and sort them out here or back at our place. Do them at home, and I'll bring them back in with me tomorrow all organised for Bobby. Besides, you're not well, may as well rest at home than worry here."

She hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought that Bobby would let her take the paperwork home with her, she just assumed she would have to do them here. But Bobby did trust her, and she lived with Evan now, so it wasn't as if she would take them or share them with anyone. Bobby trusted them both and if Evan asked, he would gladly agree.

"Gather everything you need and I'll go clear it with Bobby."

Evan went to pull back, but he grinned when (Y/n) held onto his biceps and looked up at him through her lashes. Wordlessly, he held onto her hips and reeled her up to her feet. She swayed a little until she regained her balance and Evan kept tight hold of her and wormed one hand around to touch the base of her stomach.

It was still early days yet, early enough that (Y/n) could still wear her jeans and button them up over her stomach. And she had worn them today, tucking her vest into the hem so it covered the tiny, almost unnoticable change to her stomach. Evan had noticed the change already, how her stomach was firmer and starting to shift in shape and he couldn't wait for her to start showing properly.

They had just told the team since (Y/n) was now officially moved in with Evan, and everyone was over the moon for them.

"Are you sure?" (Y/n) murmured into his chest while she moved one hand to hold his wrist where his hand was tucked safely against her stomach.

"Yeah, I'll smooth it over with Bobby. Gotta look after you, eh?"

Running a hand through her damp hair, (Y/n) trudged from the bathroom towards the kitchen, her steps sluggish and bare feet tickling as they glided along the cold floor.

She managed a smile when she noticed Evan mulling about in the kitchen. She hadn't heard him come home while she had been in the shower. She walked up behind him, brushing her fingers across his lower back while she pressed a kiss against his bicep.

"Hi baby." Evan turned round, leaving the coffee cup on the counter behind him so he could reach out for (Y/n). She aimed for the fridge, but he didn't let her get far past him. Both his arms wormed around her waist and he reeled her back into his chest so he could tuck his face down against her neck and shoulder.

(Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder, grinning when she felt his hands splay out along her small bump.

"Lookin' good," He murmured into her neck while his thumb glided up and down her stomach. She was only in a pair of shorts and her bra. She'd just taken a shower and needed to find a dress before she got ready for her job at the station.

"Hm, hate to burst your bubble but I'll have to get dressed or I'll be late." (Y/n) cupped his cheek and tilted his head up so she could press a wet kiss to his lips.

"Late?" He murmured against her lips, taking another kiss and pulling her lower lip between his teeth until he could feel her groaning into his mouth. His hands squeezed her against him and he leaned over her like he was trying to merge them into one being.

(Y/n) knew what he was doing. He was worming himself around her, buttering her up because he wanted to be attached to her all the time. But (Y/n) couldn't be late for work.

"Work? The new supplies won't log themselves, you know." (Y/n) gave him one lasting, deep kiss before she broke out of his arms and moved to grab a drink from the fridge.

A smile wormed onto her lips when she felt Evan following after her like a shadow. But her eyes cast to the right when she looked at the dining table. The smile started to fade from her face and she stopped in her aim for the bedroom to trail her fingers across the stack of papers on the table.

"I brought the files home for you." Evan's voice was cool and collected and he peppered a kiss to her neck and glided his hand along the back of her thigh and up around her bum.

When she didn't say anything, Evan turned and moved back towards the fridge, seeing as (Y/n) didn't look like she was going to rush to get ready anymore. He found the milk and set about making a coffee. He'd just done a night shift into the morning and he needed coffee to keep himself awake or he'd be asleep in no time.

"Babe… why did you bring them home? Now I've gotta take them all back." (Y/n) dragged her thumb along the edges of the files, checking which ones he had brought back with him.

All the ones she would have gone through at the station. He knew her organisation skills well. But now (Y/n) would have to traipse them all back to the station with her.

"So you can audit them?" Evan grinned and shrugged as if it was obvious and he grabbed his mug and walked over to her. "I'll take them back when I go on shift in two days, Bobby won't mind."

(Y/n) turned around, leaning her hips back against the table while she folded her arms over her bump.

"I'll take them back, I'm going in today."

"Why, when you can just work from here?" The way Evan slouched back against the counter and crossed one leg over the other made (Y/n) feel a bit uneasy.

They were talking at cross purposes. The files belonged at the station. The only reason she had been auditing and sorting them here was because she hadn't been well. Morning sickness had been a killer, it still was, but at least (Y/n) had the energy to get out of bed and actually go out the flat now. She wanted to get back into routine, which meant going back to the station rather than having everything brought home to her.

And she could get back to college work tomorrow too. She had been doing her work from home for college, which had been a nice change. It was less stressful at home, but (Y/n) was more inclined to do the work when she was in class, and it was far easier to learn when listening to the teacher than reading hundreds of powerpoints.

"Because I feel better, Bobby hired me to work, not to be here carting files to and from the station." It was a lot of faffing about to keep moving all the files between home and the station, and it made (Y/n) feel like a liability. She wasn't employed to do things from home, she was supposed to be there in person sorting out.

Her head tilted back and she kept her arms crossed when Evan moved over to her. She watched him set his drink down on the table but when he clamped his hands down on her hips, there was something tight and almost fierce in his hold.

"Yeah, but you're pregnant now, and it's a lot to juggle college and the paperwork for the station. You've not been stressed while you've been working from home, so I think you should carry on and stay home."

A frown set into (Y/n)'s features as she stared up at Evan, something akin to confusion and a hint of annoyance burning in her eyes.

Being pregnant wouldn't stop her from doing her job effectively. She could still work while she was in the early stages, it would be when she was seven or eight months that she would need to think about taking things easy. And it was only paperwork, the worst (Y/n) got was headaches or an unease when she worked too much and ate too little, due to morning sickness. It wasn't exhausting work.

"Evan…" (Y/n) tilted her head to the side when he dived down for a kiss and her stomach burst with adrenaline when he groaned and kissed the edge of her jaw instead. His hands pulled her hips, tugging her off the table and into his embrace. "It's not exactly stressful, and I'm fine. I'm going to work-"

"The papers are already here." He ticked his head towards the papers on the table while his hands wormed down her back and slid into her underwear.

"Then I'll take them back when I go in on Friday."

"Why? Bobby agreed you can work from here, he's not bothered, so just stay home with me."

(Y/n) wanted to disagree. She wanted to argue and tell him that he couldn't just decide she was working from home or decide that she wasn't well enough to go to work. But he had already done it.

He had already brought the paperwork here and it seemed pointless to take the papers back to the station and then come home when she could just do them here. She was home, Evan was home and she could get the work done here and let Evan take them back in. He would be going back to the station before her anyway.

"Alright." There was no point arguing with him over this; what else could she say?

***

"I'm just saying, why go when you don't need to?" Evan shrugged his shoulders and held his hands out at his sides like he was calling a truce, but his words didn't exactly imply that.

"Because if everyone else has to then so do I. I can't just be that one girl who never bothers to turn up for class, Evan."

(Y/n) pressed her hand against her back, just to the side of her hip so she could click her spine into place and ward off the ache in her lower back. Her other hand moved to her temple and started massaging in circles where a headache was beginning to form.

This wasn't fair.

Evan couldn't pretend like this wasn't going to be an argument or like this wasn't a problem.

(Y/n) wanted to go to college, she didn't want to do all of her lessons from home like Evan kept suggesting. She was only twenty weeks pregnant, she had a lot longer to go yet before they would have their baby and in that time (Y/n) wanted to do as much as she could at college. She wanted to attend classes and lectures and do the work with her professor rather than staying home to do it and sending the work over email.

When she was eight months pregnant she would be working from home and she was going to be given a break from studies once she had the baby. It was all in her hands, she could decide how long she had off from her studies, but (Y/n) only wanted to take two or three months at the most. Because then she would just have to sit her final exams and hopefully graduate. Then she could stay off on maternity leave and find a job in that time ready for when she wanted to go back to work.

"You say that like you don't do any of the work. You're working from home, you're doing the lessons and sending in your work. And in a month you'll be on work experience anyway, so what does it matter if you don't sit in that class with people you don't even like? Just stay home."

Evan moved to perch down on the end of the bed, being mindful of the few books and notepads (Y/n) had scattered across the bed. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together between his knees. He looked oddly calm, not the least bit perplexed about this.

And he wasn't.

He saw no need to get angry when he was telling (Y/n) the truth and he knew sooner or later, she would agree and come round to the idea.

"It's not that I don't like them, but it's not nice being the odd one out. But that doesn't matter, I'm at college to do the work and turn up, I actually want to do it you know."

(Y/n) dragged her hand up and down her back again and when Evan reached out for her, she shook his hand off.

She continued pacing in front of the end of the bed, the hem of her dress swishing and swaying with every movement and sharp turn she made. And when she glanced her eyes down, she bit her lip to smother a sigh. Her hand left her back and she tried to calm down enough to do up the buttons on her dress. Evan had undone them when he attached himself to her when he got home.

"You'll be less stressed." He pointed out quietly, squinting up at her while his lips quirked to one side, trying to get her to see this from his point of view.

"It's not about stress-"

"It is when you're pregnant and you're gonna make yourself sick worrying and overdoing it just to turn up, when technically, you don't have to. You've been approved to work from home and just go in once a week."

Evan stretched and sat back straight while (Y/n) stopped pacing, finally, and turned to stand in front of him. He began running his hands up and down his thighs while he raised a brow at her.

She would see it from his point of view soon.

She had already stopped going down to the station and let Evan bring all the work home to her instead. She had agreed that her college work was stressful enough without needing to spend all her free time at the station. It meant she could be home with Evan and rest and work on her own terms. And it meant Evan could have her to himself.

He didn't have to have anyone else at the station leering and watching her and she could stay home with him instead.

College would be the same. Evan didn't see why she wouldn't just work from home when she was already approved to do it. She could spend her days here with him when he wasn't at work. She could relax and be home and take it easy. She didn't have to go out, Evan could have her within his sights and make sure she was alright and know what she was doing each day.

It was easier. It was better. It was safer.

"Yeah, and everyone already looks at me weird because I'm the only one in class- in the whole year, who's pregnant."

(Y/n) didn't necessarily hate the people in her class, but she didn't meet up with them after class or call them her close friends. And they had been shocked when they started to realise her stomach was growing and clicked onto her being pregnant. No one else in their year was having or already had a baby. (Y/n) was the only one, and although she was happy to be pregnant, she didn't like the strange looks she got.

(Y/n) groaned when Evan reached out and scrunched the dress up in his fists, using it as leverage to pull her close to him until she was stood between his thighs. He raked her dress up so his hands could hold the flesh of her hips, no material separating them, and he leaned forward to press his lips against her growing bump, over the material of her dress.

"Ignore them; they're just jealous." He kissed her stomach a few more times before he tilted his head up and tested his luck kissing her cleavage instead.

He felt her shiver when he locked his heels behind hers, pinning her between his thighs. And when he pressed his chin into her sternum and stared up at her, he could see her starting to waver, starting to give in.

"Stay home with me, sweetheart. No stress, no weird looks or idiots in class, just you, me and bubba."

(Y/n) didn't want to argue anymore about it today.

She didn't have the will. She didn't have the strength or the energy to argue that if she didn't go to college, she would be cut off from everyone but Evan. She only saw the team at the station when they came over to the apartment or she and Evan infrequently went out with them after their shifts.

She didn't have a lot of friends and she didn't get along with many people in class at college. And (Y/n)'s relationship with her parents was estranged, just like Evan's was with his. Her parents didn't keep in contact, they paid more attention to her little sister than to (Y/n). All she had was Evan.

If she gave up going to college and resided to work from home, she would barely have any interaction or anyone else in her life. She didn't want to be smothered by Evan. His overprotective side was sweet, but it was starting to become controlling.

But he made valid points. She could work from home and have less stress, no strange looks and she could relax and do the work at her own pace. And she would be going on work experience soon which she couldn't do from home, she would be in a preschool class from nine until three, Monday through to Friday for a few weeks at least.

(Y/n) leaned back to let Evan stand up and she let him weave his arms around her waist and pull her into his chest. She let him swoop down and attach his lips to hers while his fingers dug deeper into her hips, squeezing her flesh and pulling at the waistband of her underwear.

Evan and their baby were all she had.

#evan buckley #911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz #bobby nash #dark! buck

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flawseer · 14 hours

Note

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.

#wings of fire #dragon #wof #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #flawseer talk #flawseer reply #wof winter #long post #long winded

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bluesidez · 10 hours

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Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)

I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅

[Five Peas In A Pod]

lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader

summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.

content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad

word count: 4.3k, not proofread

a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

“Finally.”

Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.

“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.

“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”

“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”

Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.

“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”

Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.

“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”

Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.

“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”

“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.

You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.

The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.

“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”

Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.

There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.

“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”

You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”

You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.

“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”

“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”

“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.

“Absolutely.”

“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”

“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”

Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.

“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.

Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.

By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.

Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”

Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.

“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”

The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.

He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.

However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.

Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.

Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.

“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”

“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.

He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.

You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.

His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.

“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.

A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.

“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”

Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.

It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.

Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.

Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.

He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.

“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”

There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.

The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.

“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”

Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.

You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.

Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.

“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”

You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.

“Son.”

Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.

You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.

“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”

“But-“

“Jaime O’Hara.”

The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.

He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.

“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.

“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”

The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.

“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”

Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”

He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.

“How could I forget?”

You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”

A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.

“Smart idea.”

“Mm hm.”

Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.

Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.

Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.

He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.

His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”

“Messing up what? Your shots?”

Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.

“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”

His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.

“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”

Jaime nodded his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.

“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”

With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.

“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”

Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”

Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.

“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”

Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.

One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.

“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.

“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”

“And?”

“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”

“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.

“¿Papá?”

“¿Sí, mijo?”

Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.

With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.

In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.

Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.

“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”

Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, please.”

With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.

“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.

Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.

A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.

“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”

You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.

“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.

Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.

Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.

“Mírame.”

You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.

“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.

You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.

Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.

The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.

Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.

By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.

He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.

“Baby, c’mon.”

“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”

You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.

You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.

“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”

Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.

“You’re so silly,”

“Just in love, mi amor.”

The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.

Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.

The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.

Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.

Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.

“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”

She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”

“Uh, 6’9.”

A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”

“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.

Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.

At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.

“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.

“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”

Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.

“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.

“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”

“You need some nourishing food, too.”

“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.

“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.

“Already so spoiled.”

“You love it, though.”

“Mm.”

Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.

Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.

“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”

“Babe. Maybe let’s let the couch and the referee do their jobs.”

“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”

You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.

Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.

“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”

He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.

You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.

“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”

He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.

Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.

“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”

Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.

The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.

Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.

“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”

The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.

When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.

Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.

“I did it, daddy! I did it!”

“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”

“Did you see me, mommy?”

“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”

Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”

Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.

“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”

Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.

“You want vanilla wafers too?”

You nod.

“And strawberry syrup?”

“You’re such a good husband.”

You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.

“Mamá! Look what I can do!”

“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”

“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.

You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.

“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”

Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.

A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.

You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.

“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.

“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”

“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.

“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.

“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”

“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.

“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”

“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.

“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”

“I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”

“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”

Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.

“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”

“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”

Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.

“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”

“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”

“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”

Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.

“It’s on.”

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!

#to the lab testers 🩻#love lab fics 🧫#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #pregnant reader #miguel o'hara x pregnant reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #domestic miguel o'hara #domestic!miguel o'hara

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iamtired10 · 3 days

Text

jealous jealous

— fluffy (slight angst) headcanons

pairing - newjeans members x female reader

synopsis - how they would react when they get jealous.

warning - jealousy and kisses (same warnings as before..)

a/n - im not totally sure if this is accurate or fun, but here it is. enjoy reading and bye—

requested by — @somedaydream

kim minji

minji is always the steady, reliable one.

but when jealousy hits her, that calm exterior fades into something much softer, more vulnerable.

it’s almost cute how she thinks she can hide it, but you know her better than that.

when she sees someone else getting just a little too close to you, her lips press into a thin line, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

she doesn’t make a scene—not minji—but the way she sidles up to you, slipping her arm around your waist, says everything she won’t.

suddenly, she’s attached to you like glue, her hand never leaving yours.

and if you thought she was clingy before?

it’s nothing compared to how she holds onto you now, as if letting go would mean you’d slip away.

minji isn’t loud about her jealousy, but the intensity is unmistakable.

she’ll rest her head on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck as she murmurs, “you’re mine, you know that, right?”

her grip tightens ever so slightly, like she needs the reassurance that you’re not going anywhere.

you’d tease her about it, call her out for being so possessive, but her response is just to snuggle closer, burying her face against you with a soft,

“shut up, you love it.” and yeah, you do.

pham hanni

when hanni gets jealous, it’s like watching a storm roll in—fast, loud, and impossible to miss.

she’ll try to act indifferent at first, throwing in a casual, “i don’t care,” as her eyes narrow at whoever’s hogging your attention.

but the pout that forms on her lips is unmistakable, her foot tapping impatiently as she waits for them to leave.

the second they’re out of sight, though, she’s right there, tugging at your sleeve with a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

she’ll fold her arms, puffing out her cheeks in the most adorable way, and mutter, “you’re not allowed to let anyone else make you laugh like that.”

you try to calm her down, but she’s already climbing onto your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck with a stubborn grin. “i’m the only one who gets to do that. got it?”

but the best part?

when she tries to act all tough but fails miserably.

she’ll poke at your cheek, trying to act mad, but the second you kiss her nose or ruffle her hair, she’s all giggles and soft smiles again, her walls crumbling in an instant.

hanni can’t stay mad for long—especially not when you pull her close and tell her she’s your favorite.

danielle marsh

danielle is usually the most carefree, bubbly person you know. jealousy?

it doesn’t even seem like it’s in her vocabulary.

but when it sneaks up on her, it’s a quiet, almost shy thing.

she won’t say anything at first, but you’ll notice how she pulls back ever so slightly, her usual easy smiles faltering. danielle is all sunshine, but when she’s feeling insecure, the clouds start to roll in.

she won’t ask outright, won’t accuse you of anything, but you can see the way her gaze lingers on you, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

the laughter isn’t as bright, her touches not as bold.

instead, she becomes quiet, distant, like she’s afraid she might lose you without even realizing it.

and the worst part?

she’ll try to hide it, not wanting to burden you with her feelings.

but once you notice, once you pull her aside and ask her what’s wrong, she’ll melt.

her arms will wrap around you in the tightest hug, her face buried in your chest as she mumbles, “i just... don’t want to lose you.”

you’ll reassure her, over and over, until that bright smile returns, her whole body leaning into yours like she can finally breathe again.

danielle doesn’t get jealous often, but when she does, she needs to know you’re hers, and only hers.

kang haerin

haerin is the silent type, always observing, always thinking.

when she gets jealous, you almost wouldn’t know—almost.

she doesn’t make a scene, doesn’t throw tantrums or pout.

instead, she just watches, her eyes sharp as she quietly takes in every interaction you have with someone else.

her expression remains neutral, but there’s a tension in the way she moves, like a panther ready to pounce.

she’ll slip closer to you, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that’s so subtle, yet so possessive.

haerin doesn’t need words to show you how she’s feeling—her presence is enough.

she stands just a little too close, her gaze never leaving you, as if she’s reminding you, without saying a word, that you belong to her.

later, when you’re alone, she’ll sit beside you, her hand resting lightly on your leg, her voice low as she finally speaks. “you’re not interested in anyone else, right?”

it’s not even a real question—she knows the answer.

but hearing you say it makes something soften in her eyes, the tension melting away as she leans into you, her head resting on your shoulder.

haerin doesn’t need to make a big fuss, but when she’s jealous, she’ll make sure you never forget where your heart belongs.

lee hyein

hyein is the youngest, but when she gets jealous, she acts like she’s years older, her voice sharp and demanding as she pulls you aside.

“who was that?” she’ll ask, her eyebrows raised, trying to act all serious and mature.

but you can see right through her.

she’s still the playful, dramatic baby you know and love, even when she’s pretending to be tough.

she’ll follow you around, refusing to let anyone else get too close, her hand firmly in yours as she shoots glares at anyone who dares even glance in your direction.

“you’re mine, no sharing,” she’ll declare, her voice full of mock authority, but the way she clings to you like a kid with their favorite toy betrays her real feelings.

and when you finally laugh and call her out for being so possessive, she’ll just huff, crossing her arms as she pouts.

“i don’t care, you’re not allowed to make anyone else smile like that.”

but underneath all her dramatics, she’s still soft, still the sweet hyein you know.

she’ll eventually lean her head on your shoulder, her voice a little quieter, a little softer.

“i just like you too much, okay?”

a/n - working overtime for y'all :(

#new jeans x reader #newjeans #fluff #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #oneshot #hanni x reader #pham hanni x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader #lee hyein x reader #hyein x reader

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nekovmancer · 3 days

Text

overwatch headcanons: how they say "I love you" with Ramattra, Reaper, Reinhardt, Cassidy and Hanzo

a bit angsty and some curse words ahead, but still sfw. don’t blame me, I enjoy the suffering and since you're still reading I bet you also do

also silly little juno was SMASHED by writer’s block again, please help sending a headcanon request, but read rules first

Ramattra

doesn’t say it at all, actually

he was shaped for violence, hands carefully constructed to murder

the sentience came with grief, sorrow, rage… but love? this big fella doesn’t even love himself, to begin with

it’s hard for him to cope with affection, to learn the aspects of it, mostly the very subtle nuances of reciprocation

but it’s you, and since you came along, this foreign feeling haunts him

and when you say “I love you” first… he’s so silent you’re scared you’ve broken him with this three words alone

“How is it possible for you to love a being as myself?”

he feels the urge to say something back, but simply can’t vocalize the words he’s dying to say

you know he’s overwhelmed already, his pride contrasting his feelings, so you don’t push him too far: Ramattra shows you enough

but your words echoes in his systems for days

in one of these, he’s with you as he always do before you fall asleep, and the words just came out

“I may not have a heart, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be mine: it would be yours. It always has been.”

it’s not an explicit I love you

no, it’s much better

Reaper

you know what happens between you two must stay secretive

it’s… casual, if you can name it such

I mean, he comes to you every damn night, and most of them aren’t for sex, but for company

and the cuddles, of course

you see him past the scars, the shadows… what lies beneath it as the ghost of a man

and you love him nonetheless

despite all the danger that comes along with him being one of Talon’s counselors and a declared enemy to Overwatch

until one night, when he doesn’t show up and never let you know why

and this one night turns into tons

you’re broken, to say at least

he avoids you, not even a single stolen glance through briefings, no more missions together

you don’t know where you manage to find the courage to confront him, but somehow you do, so you’re cornering Reaper himself and demanding an answer

“Isn’t it obvious?”

well, of course: you were dumb enough to get to attached

but he steps closer, so surprisingly close you can hear a shallow breath muffled by his mask

the shadows engulf you both before you can blink, and his ghostly touch stops just inches away from your cheek

“I’ve risked too much so far… but not you, not anymore”

you know what he means, you just wish you didn’t

he departs with a last glance over his shoulder, to never look back again

if he wasn’t who he was, maybe things would be different

yet if things weren’t the same, you two wouldn’t even met

in the end, you’re left to grief in the graveyard he paths on his way away from you

Reinhardt

he’s a hero and will always be

but that doesn’t mean Reinhardt is invincible

that’s why you’re laying by his side, taking extra care to not accidentally touch the bandages covering his torso

you’re little injured from the last mission, a few scratches maybe

thanks to him, who jumped right into the moment to keep your head glued to your neck

per usual, he would be flourishing the battle tales and his epic acts, his thunderous laugh echoing through the HQ, but now?

the sadness contorting his face breaks your heart

he stares down at you, one calloused thumb tracing under the thin line of the stitches on your cheekbone

“I’ve let them hurt you”

oh… so that’s it

“If I was a second late… I hate to even think of what could've happened”

he groans, retreating his hand and looking away

if he could ever be more dearing, you would’ve exploded

you cup his face and make Reinhardt look at you once again, reassuring him you’re here, safe and sound, thanks to him

it takes a bit of convincing, but soon enough you hear one of his deep chuckles resonating in his chest and know that you’ll be just fine

“I will always be there to protect you, liebling, no matter what it takes. For I could never live in a world where there is no you by my side.”

Cassidy

he’s always flirting and teasing, so you would assume it’s all a joke

despite him throwing his arm over your shoulder and resting his head on yours every goddamn time he has a chance

and if you’re quiet and close enough, you can hear his fast heartbeats pulsing

maybe… he’s just affectionate, yeah

not that you see Cole like that with anyone else, but

you could never take him seriously, because he can never be serious for once

it’s always a wink here, a smooth darlin’ there

yet he never makes a move on you that gives you the clarity you need

so it’s it, an eternal what if

until one days he comes from a mission, all dirty and hurt

you’re surprised to see he came straightforward to you, still trying to catch his breath while holding to his injured side

but before you can drop any question, Cole smashes his lips against yours

and it feels holy

he keeps you close when you break the kiss, trying to remind yourself how to breath

his breath is so warm against your face, and that familiar scent of smoke makes your knees weak

“I fucking meant everything I’ve ever said, doll”

for the way he just kissed you, you’re now sure he does

Hanzo

Hanzo isn’t one to speak about his feelings openly

you’re actually surprised you’re now tiptoeing around some sort of serious relationship

at least, you think it’s serious since you barely leave each other’s side

it’s extremely hard for him to be vocal about his affection, though

sometimes, he would still flinch when you touch him out of blue

but he loves to run his fingers along your hair, your face…

your body is his to worship

and there’s this lazy morning, where he’s kissing your knuckles and embracing your waist…

you just feel you could melt right here, into him

until something cold circles your finger and your eyes snap open

a ring

a FUCKING ring

you stare at him in pure disbelief, eyes so wide they must pop out by any second

Hanzo shows the most loving smile you had ever seen, kissing your ring finger

that now has an actual engagement ring

“Being with you everyday is still too little time. I wish nothing but foreverness with you”

#overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch headcanons #ramattra #ramattra x reader #hanzo #hanzo x reader #cole cassidy #cassidy x reader #reinhardt wilhelm #reinhardt x reader #gabriel reyes #overwatch reaper #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes x reader

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bengals-barnesbabe · 3 days

Text

Princess Ti

Pair: Husband!Tee Higgins x Chase Sister!Reader

Descr: The day everyone’s been waiting for is here, GAME DAY- wait something’s not right. Barely proofread, but it's done.😅

TW: language, mentions of sex, childbirth.

Things Are Changing | Main Masterlist

WC: 5,003

....:::: * * •° ✾ °•* * ::::....

“Y/n, it’s almost kick off!” Your mother-in-law calls out.

You huff hugging your bump, looking at the shirt you’d usually be wearing for game day if you weren’t 41 weeks pregnant.

Usually, you'd be at the game cheering your husband and younger brother on from the stands, but that wasn't really an option this far along in your pregnancy. But you at least wanted to indulge in your favorite game day tradition: wearing Tee's jersey. However, that wasn’t going so smoothly either.

Your bedroom door opens, and Tee’s mom pops her head in. “You okay, darlin’?”

“I would be, but I’m still pregnant, so I’m not.” She chuckles and sits on the bed next to Tee’s jersey.

“I know how you feel. You’re tired, antsy, anxious, moody. Little princess is really enjoying her time in there.” She offers you a kind smile.

“I think I made too good of home in there. Tee says there’s no better place for her to be than the womb. Of course, he would because he doesn’t have swollen ankles and an extra 30 lbs to carry on his torso. He was so scared I’d go into early labor that I think he convinced her to stay longer. 2 more weeks and she’ll be evicted via C-section, and that’s the last thing I want.” You pout, joining her on the bed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been doing everything right to get your body ready for this. She’ll come when it’s right. You said you woke up with contractions, right?”

You nod your head, “Braxton hicks. I’ve been dilated 2 centimeters for a week. Tee didn’t want to go to work, but it only lasted 15 minutes. The last one was actually before you came in, but it didn’t last long. It’s been like this since I hit 37 weeks.”

“Hey, you never know; babies surprise everyone.” You chuckle.

“I think I can fix this problem, though.” She points to the jersey. “Have a pair of scissors around?”

You go over to your vanity and dig out some hair scissors. She takes them and cuts a long triangle up the sides. “Here, now you can wear it and be comfortable.”

You slip the jersey over your white tee and admire her handiwork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; now we have a game to watch.” You happily link arms and join your mother in the living room.

“Y/n, your brother is driving me insane.” You roll your eyes when you see her eyes glued to her phone.

“What’d he do this time?” You sit between the ladies and hog a bowl of pretzels as she goes on about Ja’Marr’s post-game dinner requests.

You spend the next half snacking, yelling at the screen (not that you’d ever tell your husband), and listening to your mothers chat about their sons. You fell asleep during the start of the third quarter but woke to the same pain you felt this morning.

“I’m so tired of these fake ass contractions.” You hold on to your belly as the tightening gets worse. “Sorry for my language.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Babygirl, you’re in pain. No one is judging a few curse words, even if we both know you have a sailor’s tongue.”

“Momma, what-whatever, fuck- J told you isn’t- oh my god.” You grab hold of her hand as it’s held out.

“Hey hey, breathe, Y/n, breathe. Are you timing this?” Your mother-in-law nods as alarmed as yours.

Your eyes squinched, teeth gritted, and you cried out in a pain you’d never felt before. “Mommy!”

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.” You feel her free hand run your back. You try to do the breathing exercises she tells you and finally exhale when the pain dials down.

“Y/n?” You look up at the woman teary-eyed.

“I lied, I don’t think these are Braxton hicks. They started a few hours after he left. I thought they were fake until they were happening every other hour. Now there’s even less time between them.”

“I’m calling your midwife over and texting my son.” Your mother-in-law rubs your leg with a smile.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell us you were in labor?”

“Because I’m not. My water hasn’t broken yet, and they aren’t that close together. Tee’s not here. It’s not happening right now. If she wanted to come, it should've been this morning. It can’t be happening.” You shake your head and look up at the TV. As if on cue, your husband catches a pass and runs it to the endzone.

“Aww, babygirl, I know it’s scary, but this is what we’ve been waiting for.” She brings your head to her shoulder.

“The game isn’t over; we can’t just- ohhh fuck it’s back,” you whine as the contractions come back tenfold. You feel it everywhere now, your abdomen, back, pelvis- it was like you were being stabbed and electrified all over.

“Sarah is on her way over, and I called someone to get Tee.”

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

“Great catch, Tee! Great job, baby!” His teammates hollered as the wide receiver jogged over to the bench.

The Bengals were winning 28 - 18 over the Browns, with both Tee and Ja’Marr catching each pass that came their way. Tee was all smiles as he sat back and took off his helmet.

“That’s right, boy, show ‘em who's they daddy!” He chuckles as Ja’Marr hypes him up.

“Aight now, only one person can call me that, and she ain’t here yet.” They do their handshake with similar smiles.

“Now that game gon be special,” Ja’Marr says before one of the sideline managers approaches them. “Hey, what’s the rush?”

The girl looks at Tee with a sheepish smile.

He furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

She catches her breath and then speaks up. “We just got a call from your mom, your wife- Y/n’s in labor.”

“My sister’s in labor! Shit, I guess that day’s today.” Ja’Marr chuckles as his brother-in-law jumps up.

“I gotta go- wait, Coach- fuck.”

“Don’t worry, just go, Taylor knows. Go meet your daughter.” She smiles, ushering him off the field.

“I’ll catch up with y’all later. Take care of them! Good luck!” Tee waves as he runs into the tunnel.

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Your midwife, Sarah, arrived at the house minutes after calling her and, making her the third person in your presence who seemed to enjoy your pain. Then, before she could even examine you, you leaned over in pain and felt a small gush of fluids coat your shorts.

On the way to the birth center, you were shifting between feeling extremely anxious, pure electrocuting pain, and intense worry. Everything was happening so fast, and the fact that your husband wasn’t here was making all your nerves go off.

“Wow, this room is really nice. I had all my babies in a cheap ass hospital, so I’m not used to this kind of luxury.” Your mom praised as you settled into your birthing room.

“Momma, I’m begging you.”

Tee still hadn’t arrived yet, it that, along with the fact that you were currently 5 centimeters dilated, was not helping calm your anxiety at all. Sarah and the two moms in the room were doing their best to soothe your aches, but nothing beats the comfort of being in your man’s arms during your time in need.

“Maybe you should rethink the epidural, baby.” Mama T suggests while tying your braids up into a bun.

“Yea, babygirl, it could help. It’s never too late to ask.” Your mom added.

In return, you shook your head, unable to open your eyes due to the pain. “No, we had a plan. No matter how bad it gets, I don’t want them to take away any of my senses.”

God, how badly you needed your husband. You wanted him to be the one rubbing your back and helping you through the worst pain you’ve ever felt. How could he not be here right now? He’s been waiting for this day longer than you and is late!

“Where the fuck is my husband?” You grunt through your gritted teeth.

“He’s on his way sweetheart, just breath.” Sarah coos, earning a deadly side eye from you.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“How about you think about how happy and relieved you’re gonna be when all this is over and your baby girl is safely in your arms.”

“Why did I let him do this to me?” You groaned, completely ignoring her. As the contraction subsides, you lay your hand over your eyes and let the exhaustion of labor pull you into a shallow slumber.

“Maybe we should start her on some Nitrous?”

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

About Nine Months Ago..

“My boobs have been absolutely killing me.” You hiss as you palm the tender flesh.

“Want me to massage ‘em for ya?” You catch the cheeky smile on your husband’s face through the bathroom mirror and shake your head.

“No, Tamaurice, that will make them worse.”

“Awww, the government name. What did I do this time?” he lightly groans, shuffling into the bathroom like a sad toddler.

“Nothing that this can’t tell us.” You shrug, pulling a box out of a CVS bag.

“Y/n?”

“Tee?”

“That’s a pregnancy test.”

Ever since you and Tee got married, you kept a box hidden in the lower cabinet for emergencies. “Yes, it is.”

“Why do you already have it?” It started as a gag gift from one of your friends. It was a Secret Santa party, and they thought it would be funny since you always joke about how much sex you and Tee have.

“Baby, it’s just a precaution. I could be just PMSing, but we have to rule out the possibility.”

“How many of these have you taken without me knowing?” Enough to know you want this one to be positive.

He turns your body to face his and perfectly reads the longing on your face. You want this to be the last one more than anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to have a baby?” You shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n, I’m your husband. Remember that really expensive party on that mountain of snow? That was a wedding.” He chuckles as you slap his chest.

“I’m very aware that we’re married. It only happened eight months ago. I just didn’t want to be disappointed when you said no.” You frown, looking down.

“Hey, hey. Baby, don’t do that; let me see you.” His voice is calm and soft as he lifts your head to see his warm smile. “If you had told me you wanted to have a baby, I would’ve gotten you pregnant the second we got to the islands.”

“Really?” He lifts you onto the counter so you can be eye to eye and smirks.

“Oh yeah, there’s nothing sexier than my wife walking around with my last name and my baby cooking for all the world to see. Fuck I’d love to see you pregnant with my jersey on. Then, by the end I get to raise a baby that looks just like you. I couldn’t be happier about that. Then after our little prince or princess is old enough and your ready, I’ll fuck you full of me again until there’s no doubt we’ll have another one on the way.”

Hearing him talk about getting you pregnant is so possessive, dirty, raunchy even, but all around absolutely amazing. He wants this just as much as you do, and maybe more. God, you’re lucky.

Grabbing his face, you smile as big as possible. “I love you so much, Tamaurice.” Then press your lips against his.

He chuckles into your lips and gently returns the kiss, wrapping your legs around him and hugging your body. “Ok baby, now don’t you have a test to take?” He asks after slightly pulling away, just enough for his words to come out clearly. You fully lean back and play with the braids on his neck.

“What if it’s negative?”

“Then I’ll spend the next few days making love to you all over this house, and we’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He said as if it was the sweetest dream he’d ever had, then pecked your forehead. “Okay mamas?”

Oh that name brought chills down your spine. You nodded as he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet. Taking a deep breath, you finally open the pink box and take out the test. “Will you stay here with me?”

“Of course, I will; now go pee on that stick mama.” He winks, slapping your butt as you walk into the water closet (private toilet).

“I’m right here baby!” You roll your eyes but enjoy every bit of his enthusiasm. “I don’t hear any pissing, just giggling.”

“Oh my god, Tee, give it a second!”

“Want me to bring you some water? Actually I have a better idea.” Then he turns on the faucet. What’s not to love about this man?

Moments later, he hears a flush, and you join him back at the counter. “So…”

“We have to wait 15 minutes for the test to develop fully, " you said, putting the stick back in the box and washing your hands.

“You know waiting’s never been my strong suit.”

You roll your eyes and hop onto the counter. “Tell me a secret then.”

“Only if you tell me one.” He challenges laying his hands on your thighs.

“Deal.” You both smirk and count to 3 on your fingers.

“Ja’Marr wasn’t the one who finished the rice and peas.”

“I hate making pecan pie.”

Your eyes widen while his jaw drops. “Baby, how the hell did you eat a whole pot of rice and peas?”

“Mamas, who gives a shit about the rice. You said you loved pecan pie. You asked my momma for the recipe!” Tee’s grip on your thighs deepens a bit.

“I said it because it was your favorite, and I wanted that second date! You can’t blame me for liking your fine ass. I would pretend to play flag football if it meant you’d like me as much as I did you. You know I hate running.” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his pouty lips.

His lips curve back up in a smile as he chuckles. “You do hate running, so you’ve made that pie every year on my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas shit whenever I mention it all for me. You’ve never liked it once?”

You slowly nod, biting your lip. “Nope.”

A smirk grows on his handsome face, exposing his sparkly teeth. “You must’ve really liked a nigga to be doin’ all the cooking with no ring.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Of course I fucking liked you, have you met yourself. You’re probably the most charismatic, fine, intelligent, kind, sexy man I’ve ever met.” You smile, pecking his lips until he meets your lips with more force.

After the short but sweet kiss, he pulls back from your lips but leaves your foreheads touching. “Damn, I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you. But I thank god every day for you. You know I’d do anything for you, too, right? Without you, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. After my first year in the league, I was feeling really low. Then, this angel walked onto the practice field and changed my life. There was no way I would’ve turned you down, not when you brought a light to my life I didn’t realize was missing.” You smile misty-eyed as he wipes away a stray tear.

“Shit, the only thing I regret in life is not buying you a ring sooner.” He says, causing you to scoff.

“Oh, two years was too late for you?”

“Oh, yeah. I was ready to be with you forever from day one. Your big-headed brother is the one who told me to wait, " he smirked.

You chuckle, laying a hand on his cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m yours, and you’re mine; everyone else be damned.” His head turns slightly, and he kisses your palm.

“Just me and you, baby.”

Then the timer goes off.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

When Tee finally reaches the birth center, he finds your mother pacing outside.

“Hey, mama J, what’s wrong? Is she alright? Is it the baby? Oh god, what happened?” He asks with his hands going to the top of his head, panicked and looking through doors to see if anything is happening.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” She sighs in relief, taking the corner of his shirt and dragging him inside.

“It’s bad, isn’t it? I told her I should’ve stayed home today, but she was too stubborn, and now-

“Now, she can finally relax because you’re here.” She smiles and turns into the room. You smiled immediately upon seeing the love of your life.

“Oh fucking, finally!” Tee lets out the breath he was holding in and rushes over to your bedside. “You took your sweet ass time.”

He chuckles at your grumpiness and lifts your chin for your lips to meet briefly. “I’m sorry, mamas, I got stuck in the pads and walked into a few walls trying to get them off.”

You press your lips together to suppress your laughter. “Okay, that makes everything better, " you say as the chuckles bubble to the surface. While you release your amusement, he admires how adorable you look in your soft pink gown, with your long braids pulled up into a bun and your large bump with a fetal monitor wrapped around it.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby. How are you so calm right now? I’ve been freaking out since this morning.” He looks over at your contraction waves and goes bugged-eyed by the giant waves produced in contrast to your bubbly appearance. “What the hell?”

“She’s on nitrous.” His mom looks over, smirking.

“Shit, momma, I forgot you were here.” He nervously chuckles as she walks over to her son and hugs him.

“That’s ok, you have more pressing matters. You should’ve seen her earlier, though. I thought she was gonna start swinging.” The pair look over at you, taking selfies in your hospital bed.

“Now look at her, giving birth and snapping pics, mm mm mm kids nowadays.”

Then, another wave of contractions hit you a bit differently. “Oh shit.” You raise and hug your belly. “Someone call Sarah right now!”

Tee’s brows scrunch. “What’s up?”

“The baby’s coming.” You take the oxygen mask your mom hands to you and take a deep breath. He comes over and puts his hand on your lower back.

“I know, that’s why we’re here.” You shake your head and grab his free hand, squeezing as hard as possible. “Baby?”

“There’s this pressure- a lot of fucking pressure. I feel like I need to push.” You groan out.

“Wait, you mean push push?” He asks wide-eyed.

“Yes, fuck! Oh my god! Fucking shit! Why the hell did I let you do this to me?”

“Ok, we need to order more nitrous.”

“Hello friends, oh Tamaurice, I'm glad you could join us today.” Sarah chimes, walking into the room in full gear.

“Oh, that was fast.” Tee remarks.

“I heard her from down the hall, so I assume it’s baby time!” Your midwife cheers, rolling her stool over to the bed.

Suddenly, all the anxiety from earlier about Tee missing your daughter’s birth evolves into anxiety about the birth itself. “Wait, wait, wait. Baby, I don’t think I can do this. We haven’t thought this through. I’m not ready. I can’t do this.”

“Hey hey hey,” Tee cups your face in his hands and takes in the immense worry in your eyes. “Y/n, you are way more than prepared. You know exactly what to do and have all the strength to do it. You’ve done an amazing job cooking and caring for her in there, but it’s time for her to be in your arms instead of your belly.”

“But what if I’m not a good mom? What if she comes out and we just fuck her up?” Your voice trembles as you lean into him.

“Mamas, you aren’t going to be a good mom- you’ll be the best. Every decision you’ve made in the past year was for her. Our princess is being welcomed by my queen, and my queen only gives her 110%. My queen also has a king who is willing to do any and everything for you. This king is also ready to meet his Princess Ti, and I bet her momma is too.” He pecks your lips and then smiles as your tears dry up.

“Okay, let’s have a baby.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The following two hours felt like a blur of emotions: voices of your loved ones urging you to push, the hands-on your body holding you up, the exhaustion of the labor wanting to take over. Then, it all fluttered away with a sudden relief and a sharp cry. You immediately slumped back into the bed, the exertion impacting every part of your body. You wanted to fall asleep right there, now that all the pain had drifted away and you felt at ease.

Then you opened your eyes and saw her.

At first, it was just a tiny head of dark hair. Then your midwife turned around, and there she was, wrapped up in a pink swaddle cloth, one hand swiping at her light brown cheeks and big eyes searching the room.

“Oh my god.” Your whisper makes her eyes dark right to you, and she lets out a whimper.

“You want your mama, don’t you? Come on, sweet pea.” Sarah coos and you gently place her in your arms.

“Oh wow, you’re real.” You breathily whisper to yourself. The infant’s eyes stay on you like you're the only person in the world, just like yours stay locked on her. “Hi, baby.”

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tee leans over to kiss your head. You nod, stroking her tiny cheeks.

“Yeah, she looks just like her momma.” He smiles, caressing her head.

“She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.” You sniffle. “Baby, we’re parents.” You smile, looking up at your husband.

“Speaking of, mom and dad, does our little angel have a name?”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tee says as he rummages through the bag he brought.

“What is it?”

He comes back with three black circular velvet boxes, one twice as big as the other two. “Here’s the real reason I was late.” You watch him smile, puzzled, while he hands you the bigger one.

“What is this?”

“These ones,” he holds up the other two boxes, “are for our little princess from her uncles J and JB.” He smiles, opening one to reveal a small tiara.

Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth. “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Tee chuckles as he removes the small cap from your daughter’s head and replaces it with the small crown.

“Joe’s been asking what he should get her for months. I kept saying something fit for a princess. And he definitely delivered. He reminded me to grab it from his locker before I left. He hid it very well.”

“And the other one?”

“I’ve had this one for a while. I think it was about a month after telling Ja’Marr that he texted me saying he had something for me to pick up.” He opens the second box.

“He didn’t.” You look up at him in complete shock and take it out of his hands.

“Pure gold bracelet, anklet, and ring set, made by the same company in NOLA that made yours. It was so hard to keep it from you; every time you had a slight ache or pain that made your days long and tiring, I wanted to bring it out and cheer you up. Especially when we found out they went out of business. I know you wanted this for our baby girl so badly. J really pulled through with this one.” Your mom joins you, looking at the set in awe.

“I didn’t even know he knew about that.” She whispers.

“Me neither.” You sniffle as your husband kneels, takes the small bracelet out, and clasps it around your baby’s wrist.

“There are more adjustable chains for when she outgrows this one, but for now, she’s perfect.” He smiles, kissing her tiny hand.

“What about this one?” Your mom points to the box he handed you first.

“This one is from me to my beautiful bride, who I am forever thankful for and proud of for doing one of life’s hardest jobs and giving me my baby girl.” You blink away tears as he smiles and kisses your hand before sitting on the side of the bed and revealing the last item. “I told you you’d always be my queen. And since our princess already has hers..”

“Tee, it's beautiful.” Your voice trembled as he lifted an almost identical replica of the tiara on your baby’s head onto your own.

“Only the best for the loves of my life.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and kisses your head. Shifting over in the bed, you gesture for him to sit closer, and he gladly scoots up next to you.

Sighing in pure contentment, you lay your head on his chest. “Thank you, " you replied softly, yawning, then gently passing the bag to your husband.

“We gotta make sure the princess lives up to her name. Ain’t that right, Tiana?” He cooes holding her with one arm and you with the other, supporting her head with your body.

“Yea my little girl’s not gonna fall for those little f boy traps, nope. She has a daddy who will show her the universe, so no one can ever top it but yourself. My precious girl, Tiana...

You swiftly drift off into a deep sleep, listening to your husband make promises to her, knowing he will keep.

ʚ❤︎ɞ ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ ʚ❤︎ɞ

A few hours later, after you’ve rested and fed your baby, Tiana receives her first visitor.

“Hey, family, where’s my Titi?” Ja’Marr sings, walking in your room.

Rolling your eyes, you nudge your head to where Tee’s sitting on the lounge chair next to your bed.

“There she is,” he grins, sitting on the edge of the bed to admire her. “Wow, she’s incredible. You did a great job, sis.” He says, handing you two bags.

“Thank you, and thank you. How was the rest of the game?” you ask, opening the bag of steaming food, which fills the room with a mouthwatering aroma, and digging into your Cajun fries.

“It was okay. Most of the guys were worried about you. But we won, so all is well. They even dedicated the win to baby Tiana.” He chuckles, removing the beanie from his head.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, causing some of the fries to fall onto your gown.

He looks back at you, confused. “What?”

“Oh right, I forgot to tell her you buzzed your hair too.” Tee mentions it as if it was nothing.

“Bro, seriously.” Your brother questions, earning a shrug from your husband.

You continue to stare at him in shock but resume eating. “Did you do it yourself too?”

He shakes his head. “Hell nah, not after what I did to him.” You snort, thinking about the impromptu shape-up you had to give your husband.

“Yeah Tiana didn’t enjoy it either; she kicked so much that day.”

“Baby, you sure it wasn’t because you overloaded on sugar beforehand?” Tee smirked, stealing one of your fries.

Before you can respond, you hear a whine come from his arms.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Tiana. Are we not paying attention to you?” You smile at his ‘baby voice’ and look over to watch them interact, like everyone else in the room.

“Damn, she looks exactly like you, Y/n. Especially with the gold.” Ja’Marr winks.

“I still can’t believe you kept them a secret from me for eight months. I cried for days when they announced that they were closing down. I don’t know if you're the best or worst brother doing this to me.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you.

“I think I earned brother of the year with that set.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Yea, no, not with that haircut. Now go hold your niece.” You ordered, shoving him off the bed.

“Hey, that’s fine by me. Come on, Titi, it’s Uncle Marr time.” He gave Tee grabby hands until the baby was passed into his arms then he took the seat.

“Thank goodness you don’t look anything like your dad. You might have his last name, but you got all the good Chase features.” Your husband rolls his eyes, joining you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around you, he sighs softly. “That’s my princess.”

“I know, honey. Think about this: she might not have it now, but when she gets older, I know she’s gonna have your amazing smile.”

“You think so?” You nodded, then kissed his lips.

“I know so because that’s the only expression she’s going to know. She’s going to learn that she has the best daddy who always makes sure her momma is smiling. She'll never have to worry with you by her side.”

He chuckled, showcasing his award-winning smile. “I love you and Tiana so much.”

“We know, right, Titi?” Your daughter wiggled in her uncle’s arms, trying to find your voice, and then a slight whimper started to bubble.

“Oh, come on, Tiana, we were having a moment.” Ja’Marr pouts as the baby’s eyes start crinkling.

“I guess I’ll give you back now, but I will be back, Titi.” He mumbles, handing her to you.

“Oh, my precious princess Ti.”

﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌

a/n: I don't think I've ever worked on a fic as much and as hard as this one. I'm very glad it's finished, so yall enjoy. The final part of this mini series will be out next week!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged if you liked this fic. (pls validate me lol)

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lilsoftext · 2 days

Text

•~* BACKSEAT BAN *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

- summary: new rule on videos and streams for chris “front seat only” for being to clingy

——————————————————————————

“Alright, guys, buckle up!” Matt called, starting the recording. “Let’s see what weird stuff the fans want to know this time.”

Sof and Chris were already in the back seat, and predictably, Chris had his arm around Sof’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

Nick glanced back from the front passenger seat, immediately sensing trouble. “Nope! Nope! You two—cut it out,” he said, his voice sharp but amused. “Chris, front seat. Now."

Chris rolled his eyes, but a playful grin spread across his face. “Come on, man. We’re just sitting.”

Matt glanced over at Nick, who shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, no. We’ve been down this road before. You can’t be trusted in the backseat.”

“Remember the last stream?” Matt chimed in, laughing. “We got so many comments. ‘Hey, are they gonna breathe in between making out?’”

Sof giggled, pushing Chris away playfully. “It wasn’t *that* bad.”

“Oh, it was that bad,” Nick retorted, scrolling through his phone. “Anyway, new rule: Chris, front seat always. Non-negotiable.”

With a defeated groan, Chris reluctantly slid out of the back seat and into the front next to Matt, who was still holding the camera. “Fine, fine, I’m up here. Happy now?”

“Very,” Nick said, twisting in his seat to give Chris a satisfied grin. “Let’s get this Q&A started, shall we?”

As Matt started driving, Nick read the first question. “Okay, here’s one. ‘Who’s most likely to get caught doing something embarrassing in public?’”

Everyone burst into laughter, immediately turning to look at Chris.

“Come on, man!” Chris protested, throwing his hands in the air. “Why’s it always gotta be me?”

Sof smirked. “Because it *is* always you.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Remember last week at the coffee shop?”

Matt burst out laughing, almost swerving the car. “Oh my God, I forgot about that! You were all over Sof, and that poor barista didn’t know where to look.”

Chris grinned sheepishly. “I was just… showing affection.”

“Dude, you were *devouring* her face,” Nick said, stifling a laugh.

“Alright, alright, next question!” Chris hurriedly interrupted, eager to change the subject.

Nick looked down at his phone again. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘What’s everyone’s pet peeve about each other?’”

“Oh, easy,” Sof said, leaning forward to rest her chin on the front seat. “Chris’s inability to chill for like, two seconds.”

“Hey!” Chris shot back, turning to face her. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s true, though,” Nick chimed in, turning to Matt. “You know it’s true.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, dude, we literally had to start sitting between you two on streams.”

Nick added, “And the backseat thing? That's not even a joke anymore. You’re banned from the back.”

Chris threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, fine. You guys win. I’ll behave.” He turned to Sof and whispered dramatically, “For now.”

Matt caught it on camera and shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, for now.” He glanced at Nick. “Keep an eye on him. He’s always plotting.”

Nick smirked. “Oh, I’m well aware.”

The car filled with laughter as they continued their Q&A, teasing Chris at every opportunity. But despite all the jokes, the group’s dynamic was undeniably fun and full of energy.

Chris leaned back in his seat, smirking at Sof through the rearview mirror. “Just wait until this ride’s over.”

“Chris, I swear—” Nick began, but his laughter cut him off.

“New rule,” Matt said with a grin, keeping his eyes on the road. “No making out on video, ever again. Period.”

Everyone agreed, but Chris winked at Sof anyway.

——————————————————————————

i hope you enjoyed it. if you have any requests, leave down below (actually i don’t know what to write about, i iost my ideas)

lilsoftext<3

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #chris x you #lilsoftext #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nickelodeon #nicolas sturniolo

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shitsndgiggs · 3 days

Note

hi girll !

i saw that you post the long distance relationship with hector that was my request..so thanks 🫶🏼🫶🏼

is that possible to have one more imagine with hector ? like something the reader is an influencer and she became famous really quickly and get a lot of followers. and one day hector dms her and they start talking and few weeks after she went to barcelona for his birthday and to enjoy time with him and they are really closed. (i don’t have a lot of inspiration but at the end, they finished in love…)

thanks !!

OUT IN THE OPEN - HÉCTOR FORT

…

Héctor Fort x influencer! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

My rise to internet fame was nothing short of wild. One day, I was posting beauty tips and lifestyle content for my small group of followers, and the next, my account blew up overnight.

Suddenly, I was an influencer, with brand deals, interviews, and thousands of people watching my every move.

It was surreal, to say the least. But nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared me for that DM.

Hector Fort. Yes, the Hector Fort. Barcelona's rising football star, DMing me out of the blue.

It started so casually, with him commenting on one of my photos where I was in Barcelona during a quick weekend getaway: "Next time you’re here, let me give you a real tour of the city."

At first, I thought it was a prank. Maybe some fan account or a really convincing fake profile. But no, the blue checkmark was there, and after doing some internet sleuthing, I confirmed it was him. The real Hector.

I stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, trying to figure out how to respond without sounding like a complete fangirl. I typed out something witty: "A real tour, huh? Is that a promise?"

From there, it snowballed. What started as simple back-and-forth messages turned into daily conversations.

We talked about everything—football, life in the spotlight, my sudden fame, and his matches. It felt natural, easy, like I had known him for years.

One night, about two weeks in, Hector mentioned his birthday was coming up. He was casual about it, but there was an invitation hidden in his words.

"You should come to Barcelona for my birthday," he texted me one evening. "I’ll show you that tour I promised."

The flight to Barcelona felt like it took forever. It wasn’t my first time in the city, but it was definitely the most nerve-wracking. I was finally going to meet Hector in person.

I arrived in Barcelona a day before his birthday, and we planned to meet up at his place later that night.

My stomach churned with nerves as I approached the door, my heart racing in anticipation.

The door swung open, and there he was—Hector, looking even better than in his photos. His smile was warm and inviting, and I instantly felt a little more at ease.

“You made it,” he said, pulling me into a hug, his voice a little muffled as he spoke into my hair.

“I did,” I smiled, relaxing into the hug. “Happy early birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Come on, let’s make this weekend unforgettable.”

The next few days were a blur of birthday celebrations, late-night talks, and just enjoying each other’s company. Hector was exactly like he’d been over the phone—funny, thoughtful, and always making me laugh.

On the day of his match, I sat in the stands with the VIPs, watching him warm up on the field. I’d never been much of a football fan before, but watching Hector out there, so focused and in his element, made my heart swell with pride.

I was completely lost in the game, cheering him on with every touch of the ball.

When Barcelona scored, I jumped to my feet, clapping and shouting with the crowd. Hector glanced toward the stands, searching until his eyes met mine.

Even from the pitch, I saw the faint smile spread across his face. That moment made my heart flutter.

As the final whistle blew, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the players began celebrating on the field. The atmosphere was electric, with fans singing and chanting.

I watched Hector as he made his way toward the tunnel, but before he disappeared into the locker room, he turned and started walking in my direction.

My heart pounded as he came closer, his eyes locked on mine. I could feel people staring, whispers swirling around me, but I didn’t care. Hector reached the edge of the stands and smiled up at me.

“You came all this way,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the noise of the stadium.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, smiling down at him, my heart racing in my chest.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the crowd of fans and cameras. Then, he stepped forward, reaching for my hand. “You know people are going to talk, right?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “They already are.”

I glanced around, noticing the people already snapping photos and recording us. I could see the headlines in my head, but I didn’t care. I squeezed his hand and met his gaze.

“Let them talk,” I said firmly, smiling. “I don’t care.”

Hector’s face lit up, his eyes softening. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed me—right there in front of thousands of people.

His lips were warm and soft against mine, and for a moment, the entire stadium seemed to fade away.

The crowd around us erupted in cheers and gasps, but all I could focus on was Hector. His kiss was gentle but firm, filled with unspoken feelings we hadn’t yet put into words.

When we finally pulled apart, Hector grinned at me, his hand still holding mine. “Guess it’s official now, huh?”

I laughed, breathless. “I’d say so.”

Hector chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze before heading back toward the locker room. But not before turning back and flashing me a playful wink.

#football imagine #football x reader #hector fort imagine #hector fort

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fleurrreads · 2 days

Text

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#fleur's blurbs 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 #benny cross x reader #benny cross x fem!reader #the bikeriders

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in1-nutshell · 3 days

Note

Can i request mtmte Simpatico, the youngling, getting kidnapped by the djd? What would happen? Will they survive?

I nearly had to do a double take reading this. Poor little Simpatico...

Hope you enjoy!

Simpatico's encounter with the DJD

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Simpatico, like every bot, had a bad habit that they couldn’t seem to shake off.

Some of the habits were more manageable, like Rung’s sweet tooth for rust sticks.

Other habits were a bit more ingrained, like Brainstorm and Perceptor’s time in the lab affecting their sleep schedule.

Simpatico’s habit was a strange one.

They could sleep at will anywhere at any time.

From sleeping in the vents to sleeping on top of Chromedome’s shoulders.

It also didn’t help that they were THE heaviest sleeper on the ship.

At Swerve’s… Simpatico was drinking some of their energon while talking to Chromedome and Whirl. Whirl: “I don’t believe you.” Simpatico: “You don’t think I can?” Whirl: “I bet…” Whirl quickly looked around. Whirl: “If you really sleep on command, I’ll personally get some of those energon goodies that Brainstorm has.” Simpatico thinks for a minute. Simpatico: “And pray tell, how are you going to do that.” Whirl swings an arm around Chromedome. Whirl: “That’s why Chromedome’s here.” Chromedome: “Wait what? I didn’t agree to this.” Whirl: “Too late. You in Sim—” SLAM! Simpatico’s face hit the bar counter, their entire frame suddenly going lax, with soft snores following. Whirl blinks. Whirl: “I did not see that coming.” Chromedome sighs as he carefully scoops up Simpatico in his arms. They were still sound asleep in the mechs arms. Chromedome: “Just wait until they wake up in a couple of hours. You better have those goodies.” Whirl: “And like I said, that’s why you’re here.” Chromedome: “…I should have stayed in the habsuite with Rewind…”

It had been a stressful couple of weeks on the Lost Light.

The ship was getting repairs on one of the engines from some large space debris.

The lab was getting washed after Brainstorm decided to experiment with some sort organic slime and to make a long story short, the slime had some corrosive properties.

Because of this experiment, it caused a fight between Brainstorm and Perceptor.

Leaving poor Simpatico confused and alone.

Brainstorm: “I say we move it back!” Perceptor: “We have to move it forward!” Brainstorm shoving his helm into Perceptor’s helm harshly. Brainstorm: “Back!” Perceptor pushes Brainstorm back with his helm. Perceptor: “Forward!” Brainstorm: “Back!” Perceptor: “Forward!” Simpatico: “Can I say something?” Both mechs look angrily at them. Brainstorm and Perceptor: “NO!” Simpatico: “…I’m just going to go see what Chromedome’s doing now…”

After the worse of the fight the two mechs refused to talk to each other.

Simpatico couldn’t sleep at night after that fight.

A whole 2 weeks later and the youngling was running on fumes.

Thank Primus for caffeinated energon.

But even that was starting to lose its effects.

Eventually after doing an inspection around the lower deck, Simpatico saw a lovely, quiet crate with their name on it.

They crawled inside the empty crate and turned off their comm line.

If someone wanted to get them, they were going to have to come downstairs and get them.

The youngling was out like a light.

A trap door underneath one of the floor panels slowly opens. Out comes out the leader of the DJD, Tarn, Tesarus, and Kaon. Kaon: “I didn’t think that would work.” Tarn: “Well it didn’t. We were supposed to enter to the upper deck. Not the lower deck!” Tesarus just looks around and spots some crates. Tarn: “How are we supposed to offline Megatron without triggering the alarms and making a scene!?” Tesarus: “Why wouldn’t we want to trip the alarm?” Tarn: “Because I don’t want a certain minibot to slap my helm right up my—” Tesarus grabs the crate with Simpatico. Tesarus: “Let’s just take this crate and think of a new plan later. Helex and Vos are going to beam us any minute now.” Tarn: “That’s… not a bad idea. Forgive me for the shouting.” Tesarus: “Please, after you Tarn, Kaon.” The DJD members slipped back into the floor panel and teleported back to their ship, flying fast and far away from the Lost Light. Somewhere on the ship… Chromedome suddenly gets the chills. Rewind: “You okay?” Chromedome: “Something just happened… Something bad…”

Back on the DJD’s ship…

The team was currently getting the scolding of a lifetime.

Why?

Because Kaon opened the crate revealing a sleeping youngling.

A youngling blissfully unaware that they were currently with the most feared group of Decepticon’s in the universe.

The mech’s were surprised to see a seemingly unaligned bot sleeping in the crate, and one that was a heavy sleeper.

They began to discuss what they were going to do with the youngling when Nickle came in and saw the youngling.

Tarn is still not sure how the youngling did not wake up from Nickle’s scolding.

She swiftly told them to get the youngling to somewhere safe and where they could call for help.

Tarn tried to reason with the minibot, but her word was law.

… and the last time he went against her word, Tarn found several sharp ended bolts up… some rather uncomfortable places…

The ship hadn’t even docked on the nearest planet before Tarn kicked the crate off the ship.

The crate bounce around the dusty terrain before coming to a full stop.

Simpatico was still sound asleep.

Meanwhile on the Lost Light… Most of the scientist and engineers are looking around the clock for any sign for Simpatico’s signal. Brainstorm was in the lab getting some weapons in top shape, getting ready for any battle that could come. Perceptor is on the main deck with the officers. Rodimus: “What do you think the DJD could have been doing on the lower decks?” Megatron: “Probably for an ambush.” Rodimus: “But why take Simpatico?” Magnus notices Perceptor flinching a bit. Magnus: “Rodimus—” Megatron: “There could be a number of reasons why.” Magnus: “Megatron please—” Megatron: “For example, hostage situation, but they would have broadcasted something by now.” Rodimus: “What about an exchange?” Magnus: “Both of you—” SLAM! Perceptor slams his servo on the desk. Perceptor: “SHUT IT!” Everyone: “…” Perceptor sighs heavily: “Our priority right now is finding Simpatico. Not to guess what they… they are…” PING! Perceptor’s neck turns so quickly half the bots int eh room are convinced he snapped it. It was a video call from Brainstorm. He opens the call. Perceptor: “Brainstorm what have you—" Brainstorm: “I FOUND THEM!”

One of the tracking devices Simpatico still hadn’t picked out gave the Lost Light a location was to look.

Everyone knew it wasn’t wise to get their hopes up.

They all knew what the DJD was capable of.

It didn’t take them long to get to the planet.

The crew was half expecting Tarn to be out in the open with his team, but there was no sign of the Cons anywhere.

Perceptor and Brainstorm were one of the first ones out of the ship.

The crew looked around for a bit, all of edge in case of an ambush.

Perceptor was the one who found the dinged-up crate.

The pair slowly walked to it.

There seemed no sign of the crate being tampered with or an explosive attached to it.

Brainstorm’s servos shook as he slowly opened the lid of the crate.

The pair was mentally preparing themselves to find their sparklings remains.

But no, Simpatico was there, completely unharmed sleeping.

Simpatico slowly opening their optics. They look up to see a distraught Perceptor and crying Brainstorm. They slowly start blinking the sleep from their optics and slowly get up. Suddenly they get yanked upwards, and two chassis start squishing them. Simpatico: “Stormy? Percy? What’s going on?” They feel something wet falling down their helm. They don’t know which one is crying harder. Probably both. Simpatico: “Guys?” The crying continues. The youngling temporarily gives up and gently rubs circles on their parents’ servos in comfort. Whatever just happened it must have spooked them badly if Perceptor was openly crying with Brainstorm.

When they get to the ship, Brainstorm puts more tracking devices on Simpatico’s plating.

Perceptor hovers around Simpatico for 2 weeks.

His partner does it for 2 months straight before Chromedome and Rewind had to step in.

Simpatico was temporarily not allowed to go around the ship by themselves without a trusted bot with them.

Whirl is banned from this list.

The youngling also gets more sleep studies done.

Simpatico, seen here sleeping while everyone is loosing their minds

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #simpatico

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j-nakamura · 2 days

Text

♡— Newcomers, Announcements, & Exclusive.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hi everyone! Welcome back to our second article posting of 'TSOTH'. It's an honor for many to be interested in what I have to write! We have multiple students to introduce, so let's get to it!

(click keep reading to see the rest of the article)

Coming into the new year, I am proud to say that we have multiple new students that we should welcome into our school! I got a chance to interview a few of them, so I'm here to give everyone a warm welcome with some personal information that I received from each of them. :)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Let's start off with Cassie Sandsmark. ( @cassandra-e-sandsmark )

Cassandra Sandsmark is fifteen years old and goes by the pronouns they/she. She is from Gateway City, California (what a long way from home!), and they prefer to have people call them Cassie or Cass.

In the past, she has been to over 5 boarding schools! So let's hope she sticks to the landing with this school and does not get expelled like she did in her past schools. If you bump into them in the hallway, beware! you may end up fighting!

In other good news, they're interested in Soccer and Football. Make sure you go out to those games to support her!

Up next we have Moss Verner! ( @moss-loves-dinosaurs )

Moss Verner is a sixteen-year-old foreign exchange student from New Zealand! They're nearly seventeen, and have been enjoying being in a new country so far! They use the pronouns they/he and go by Moss. Feel free to stop them in the hall to say hello!

So I was informed by a little birdie that Sir Moss Verner had superpowers... However, when I asked about them directly, they had left no comment on the sudden address asking if it was true or not. We may have a new vigilante on our hands, everyone!

Moving on from that little rumor, Moss wanted me to let everyone know that they would be making a new club! A D&D club! Go ahead and message them with any questions you may have about it! I'm sure Moss would greatly appreciate it.

Up next is Jaime Reyes! ( @jaimereyesbug )

Jaime Reyes uses he/him pronouns and is from El Paso, Texas. He's sixteen at the moment but turning seventeen next month! Make sure to wish him a happy birthday once the month hits!

Jaime, unfortunately, is very far away from home. He says he misses his family, but he's glad he got away from that state due to it being extremely homophobic. Good thing he's able to text his family members in order to cure his homesickness!

Speaking of sickness, I think Jaime must've caught the love flu. Considering that notion, be aware of your surroundings as the love flu strikes more victims!

Second to last, we have Corus Lim-W! ( @corus-lim-w )

Corus Lim-W is a sixteen-year-old who uses any pronouns! He requested that people try not to use only one set of pronouns for her, so keep that in mind! They are from Gotham (another one!), and he does not really have any nicknames for people to call them. She did mention that people from their old school called him "Cor'! They're really interested in art so maybe you can bond with him over art classes!

Taking note out of the interview, Corus has been able to tell what would happen before it's happened. I'd say that's some amazing deja vu or far-seeing sight if you asked me!

Now, I have to mention this, but does anyone else wonder what the 'W' stands for in their username? Well, I have a theory.... and I think it fits. The W stands for Wayne! See! Hear me out, he's from Gotham AND who has the biggest name in Gotham that starts with the letter W? BRUCE WAYNE. Could Corus be Mr. Wayne's secret love child?

Finally, we have Mikael (no last name. unfortunate. :'( ) ( @mikael1256 )

Mikael is seventeen years old and was born in New York. I never received what pronouns they prefer so for the majority of this writing process, I will be using they/them strictly due to this fact.

Mikael lives in a family that travels! They traveled all over the place until their father decided to reside in Gotham. While talking about the traveling they did, they mentioned that their favorite place to travel to was Montana.

Now... I'm totally not one to start rumors, but throughout that entire interview, Mikael did not blink once. I promise I am NOT crazy bruh.

Anyways, that wraps up introductions! Let's move on to announcements.

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ANNOUNCEMENTS;

Journalism Club is having a meet & greet event on Thursday @ 4 pm! Come visit and learn more about Journalism. We're recruiting AND free snacks & drinks. Anyone is welcome to come!

The Dance Team is having tryouts on Friday @ the dance studio! Make sure to practice a dance routine so you're able to showcase it on Friday! If you have any more questions, feel free to message Morgan Drew! ( @midrew )

That's all for Announcements. Moving on to our exclusive of the week. :)

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I have been submitted a writing piece to publish in this week's issue! I believe it's written over the newfound popular ship that's been going around called "DukeJay" (so silly).

Here it is and feel free to leave your feedback about it in the comments!

Hands cling to toussled pink hair as brown eyes widen. "Duke..." Jay whispers, pressing his fingers to the other's lip.

Once upon a time his voice would have incited anger in Duke. Irritation, annoyance.

But something about the way the other stared at him with those warm brown eyes sparked something within him. A flutter he struggled to push down.

Wow! That was.... interesting to read!

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Thank you all for reading this week's "The Stories of Tripolis High" issue! I hope you enjoyed reading it! Anyways, Jay Nakamura is out until next time... ;)

#The Stories of Tripolis High #tripolis high #jay nakamura rp #ask jay!#dc au rp #dc rp blog #dc #highschool au #dc rp #jay's news articles!

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mynahx3 · 2 days

Text

Your Own Prison 7K

Hellooo lovelies!~~~ I bring a Yandere! Illumi x Reader. I hope you enjoy!!! Warning!!!! 18 and up!!!! This DARK story contains DARK subjects of kidnapping/ implied past noncon/ dubcon/ forced relationships/ forced pregnancy Please proceed with caution!! If you don't like, don't read. Not proofread yet.

~~~~~~~~

The day Illumi met you, he was out on a normal mission to gather information for his client.

The rain was merciless and came down hard on your town. It was something he would have to endure. Illumi would normally not care, being used to the harsh weather where he grew up, but today he had a job to do.

It was a simple one that paid surprisingly well.

The wife had discovered her husband having an affair with the secretary, so she launched a hit against the small-town banker. He followed the target until he went into a building, easily keeping track of him in the windows.

Normally, he would just slip in and finish the job with an easy in-and-out stab of the knife when the target was least expecting it, but the client requested to get the job done in a more discreet manner. One that resembled an accident or natural cause of death. He decided to wait for the perfect opportunity to make it look like the banker's death was simply a tragic accident.

With his years of experience, he was confident he could adapt and complete the job with precision.

For now, Illumi decided he would wait for an opening. He was content with the view he had while also remaining inconspicuous. He just looked like another passenger waiting for the bus in the busy streets.

A few more minutes passed, and a bus arrived at the stop. Illumi almost didn’t notice you standing next to him; the crowd of people walking off the bus didn’t help. It was only when you two were alone did he notice you, looking at you with a calculating gaze. He quickly assessed you, trying to determine if you were a potential threat or just another innocent bystander.

You appeared to be around his age, maybe a little older or younger; it was hard to tell. Dressed in mainly black attire with a worn gray coat. The rain boots you had on were a dark red. Your lips moved; you seemed to be trying to tell him something.

The stoic assassin's face became annoyed as he raised his eyebrow and lifted his hand to his ear, indicating that he couldn't hear you.

The busy city streets drowned out your voice, making conversation difficult. The rain didn't help either, hammering hard against the metal roof above you both. You approached him with a concerned expression on your face. Brows furrowed, and lips parted.

When he got a closer look at you, he realized you weren't horrible looking. It was a thought that vanished as swiftly as it appeared, still irritated by being interrupted.

"That was the last bus for awhile." You said, wincing a little as you pointed to the schedule next to him.

He glanced at the schedule to you, then back to his target, who appeared to be going down the elevator. The stoic expression back on his face.

"I am aware."

The tension between you both was awkward; you shuffled on your feet, looking around sheepishly. He didn't bother looking back at you, thinking the conversation was over.

"If you're cold, my store is over there. You're welcome to wait until the next bus arrives," you offered, trying to diffuse the tension.

Your finger pointed to a corner store not too far from here. The lights flashed in the rain, illuminating the wet pavement as you waited for his response. It looked a bit older than the other establishments in the area. Faded signs were taped on the windows, advertising discounts on various items.

Illumi simply remained silent, unwilling to speak with you any further. His gaze shifted ahead, resuming what he was doing before you interrupted. The rain continued to fall, making the situation more uncomfortable.

You would shortly leave, he assumed.

Proving him wrong, he heard you open one of your bags; the shuffling of wrappers and the sound of you pulling out a small package piqued his ears. Curious, Illumi finally glanced down at what you held; it was a small rectangle, no bigger than the palm of your hand. Looking at him with a tense smile, you held it out towards him, nudging it closer to him when he didn't take it.

"It's a hand warmer!" You informed him with a wider smile. "If you don't want to come in, take this."

Illumi's expression softened slightly as he reached out to accept the hand warmer, a rare gesture of gratitude for him. He titled his head as he picked it up with the tips of his fingers, examining the item with a hint of interest.

"Thank you," he murmured with a questioning tone, holding it in his hand. He wasn't expecting that.

You nod, looking happy that he took it from you, pulling out an umbrella from your bag now.

"I hope it helps keep you warm," you replied before turning to leave him. "If you need more, we sell a few items that could help in this weather, including hand warmers and umbrellas. On sale this week!" you added with a cheeky smile over your shoulder.

With that, you left, stepping into the rain with your umbrella up. Not thinking anything of the interaction with the stranger. His eyes followed you as you walked away; a small feeling stirred inside of him that he had never felt before. The small act of kindness left a lasting impact on him.

It was something you'd live to regret.

~~~~~~~~

Arguing was heard around you as you lay on the floor. You didn't recognize the voices; one was a woman and two other men. You didn't know why this was happening.

You just wanted to go home.

A blindfold was tied tightly over your eyes, now wet from your tears. Wrists tied together behind you as well as your ankles, leaving you no hope for escape. Mouth gagged with your own scarf, not helping the panic rising in your chest. You were roughly dropped onto the floor after being taken from a car, the tile pressing into your cheek as you tried to make sense of the situation. The cries you made were not bothering the people in the room who continued arguing.

"Why on Earth would you pick this girl?" The woman asked angrily; the shrillness of her voice made your ears hurt. "You have so many offers to pick from, why her?"

"It is none of your concern who I pick, Mother. Father said it was fine as long as I didn't forsake my responsibilities." The man's response was cold and dismissive, causing the woman to huff in frustration. Footsteps were heard coming closer to you, making you tense up in fear.

Gentle hands helped you to sit on your knees, making you jolt in surprise. You could feel the weight of their gaze on you, making your skin crawl with unease. You felt goosebumps grow along your arms, and your shaking intensified. It didn't help you had been taken in your sleep, so you only had on an old t shirt and shorts.

Suddenly, there was an overwhelming brightness as someone took off the blindfold. You squinted your eyes in response, adjusting to being able to see for the first time in a few hours.

In front of you was a man with pale skin, dark eyes, and short, black hair. You could only stare at him in shock and confusion. His piercing gaze seemed to burrow into your soul, sending shivers down your spine. The man's expression was inscrutable, heightening your sensation of dread.

"Welcome home, dear wife."

That would be the start of your new life.

~~~~~~~~

“This is something my little brother can withstand; no problem. We need to build your resilience, dear."

Illumi stood over you in the basement. His monotone voice grated your ears as he demeaned you. Empty eyes looking at your weak form crying on the stone floors. His pale hands soaked with your blood as he wiped them clean with a towel.

He acted so casual, as if it were just something as simple as dirt, not human blood.

Shaking in pain from what he did to you, you lay in a fetal position. For hours on end, he hurt you as you were chained to the ceiling by your wrists. Hard red welts on your wrists were proof of the cuffs digging into your flesh. Your body was covered in bruises and cuts, blood soaked into your clothes.

Another punishment for trying to escape but it was always futile.

Kukuroo Mountain was vast with unforgiving terrain. Littered with traps to keep anyone out, which also worked perfectly in keeping people in. To your credit, you did manage to evade the highly trained butlers and Illumi for two days. It was the farthest you had ever gotten in your attempts to escape. But now, as you lay broken and defeated, the reality of your situation set in: there was no way out.

These sessions with Illumi only brought you pain and suffering. He was determined to get you to give in. For you to become his sweet wife and meld into his family—like he didn’t kidnap you from your home months prior.

Forcing his way into your life despite only having just met him. Taking anything he wanted from you with no remorse.

With weak arms, you tried to pick yourself off the ground, vision filled with black dots. Stubbornly, you glared up at him. He loved the fire in your eyes; he simply didn't like it when it was aimed at the wrong things. He didn't understand why you were fighting so hard against him. Your determination could have been utilized for more important things, like helping the family, but you had to oppose him.

A blank expression was on his face as he looked at you sit up; a part of him was surprised by that. You had cuts along your arms and legs with a few broken ribs, yet you still had that look of defiance. Seeing you this way only affirmed his feelings.

He knew you were simply meant to be. Yes, your body was weak, but your mind was strong.

Crouching to your level, he looked at you; his cold hand caressed your tangled hair with a gentleness that always shocked you. Illumi was a surprisingly doting man. After your punishments, he made sure to coddle you as you healed.

Kissing your wounds, whispering into your ear, treating you softer than ever before. Over the last few months, you felt your resolve dwindling. You let yourself lean into his touch as it cupped your throbbing cheek, eyes closed as you tried to block out the pain. For just a moment, you felt his touch bring you comfort.

Snapping out of it, you turned away from him, wretching yourself from his hold. You spat in his face, with some of your blood mingled in. He wiped the wetness from his face calmly before saying in a low, frightening tone.

"You will regret that."

His eyes darkened with rage as he looked at the mess on his fingers, and his short, dark hair fell around his face, giving him a more terrifying appearance. Knowing your disobedience would only make matters worse, you prepared yourself for what was about to happen.

"Go to fucking hell."

~~~~~~~~

You awake with a start, jolting up from the plush, silken sheets. Illumi clung to your side like always, his eyes opening immediately at your movement. The nightmare, more like a memory, had made your skin clammy, and sweat dripped down your forehead. As you tried to calm your racing heart, you couldn't shake the feeling of fear that was felt in your bones. Illumi's head tilted at the sight of your distress, prompting him to sit up.

"You're shaking." His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the harshness of your nightmare. "Another dream?"

You nodded, looking at your lap, not replying much to him as he hummed. Moving your gaze to his with a firm grip on your chin, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his gaze devoid of emotion. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before looking away, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he masked it with his usual stoicism.

"The doctor said you needed to rest. You're not doing that, and it's starting to show." He sighed, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I know, I know." You dismissed him, leaning into his touch as he caressed your cheekbone.

His touch was both comforting and unsettling, a reminder of his dual nature. Despite the concern in his eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his motives than he let on.

"I'm here for you." He leaned in, kissing you gently before it went further. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your heart, but his words only seemed to worsen your anxiety.

"Illumi." You tried to protest, hands going to his chest, but you put no strength in them. You stopped fighting him a long time ago, now trying to barter instead. "It's late."

"I know you're worried," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "But I only want to help you through this."

The kiss continued for a while longer; he didn't seem to mind your slow movements. He pushed you back onto the bed, squeezing your shoulders. His lips sealed with yours, hard and demanding. Pressing his body against yours and wrapping your legs around him, he caged you in with arms on both sides of your head. The intensity of his look conveyed that he was entirely focused on you at that moment.

"I'm here." He repeated. A hand moves to caress your face again. You felt a rush of emotions in your heart as he added, "I'll always be here for you."

It didn't seem to convey the message he wanted; he was never one to be good with words. His hand moved down to clasp around your throat, not putting any pressure on you. It was a hold that conveyed his possession and control over you.

Tears silently went down your face as you looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed. Your heart was conflicted by the mix of fear and comfort that his touch brought. You wanted to fight back, to run, but you were rooted in place. Knowing what would happen if you fought back.

You have been realizing, too, that there was a tiny, tiny part of you that craved his touch.

Regardless of how much you denied it, you could feel yourself starting to care for him. The defeat in your eyes seemed to make him happy, clear from the small smirk on his lips.

"You're never leaving me, and I know you're starting to accept that," he whispered, his grip tightening, making your breath halt.

Leaning down again, he captures your lips, furthering the passion he felt. He wanted to show the extent of his love for you in more than just words. His hands begin to trail along your body in possession. Feeling and gripping at your soft flesh. It was different from the hardened, trained muscles of his. A good difference to him.

The kisses became more frenzied and hungry, his teeth knashing against your bottom lip. You didn't know whose blood you tasted on your tongue. He always seemed to lose control in moments like this, leaving you breathless and spiraling. His touch was both gentle and possessive, sending shivers down your spine.

As he deepened the kiss, you couldn't help but reciprocate with equal fervor, completely surrendering to the moment. He seemed pleased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, and his movements slowed. His lips lingered on yours, savoring the sensation of heat between you and the feeling of your tongue move against his.

Everything happened so fast; he was always the eager man when it came to you.

Without further warning, you felt him hike your nightgown up, pulling his boxers down shortly after. His hand spread your thighs more apart with ease, the head of his cock rubbing up against your wet entrance a couple times before he pushed in. As he entered you, you had to arch your back against him. You were pressed chest to chest as he pushed deeper and deeper until he was fully inside you, filling you completely.

Even though it was only a sting, the pain that followed was nonetheless unpleasant.

A whimper escaped your lips as he peppered kisses down your neck in an attempt to distract you. Your nails dug into the skin on his back, legs locking around his slim waist, pulling him closer as you tried to focus on the pleasure mingling in.

The release between your legs from earlier did help, but it wasn't enough to completely mask the pain. No matter how many times he took you, it was always on the edge of discomfort, a fine line between pleasure and pain that you both danced along.

"Breathe." He reminded, his voice low and soothing. His touch was gentle, reassuring, and soon the pain was nothing more than a distant memory.

Opening your eyes, you saw him over you, his inky hair falling in disarray around him. If it wasn't for the slight flush on his cheeks and mused hair, you would never think he felt anything other than calm control. His eyes, however, betrayed a hint of desire that mirrored your own growing need for more of his touch.

He stayed in place as you adjusted to him. Passing the time by tracing circles on your hip, the other moving up and down your spine in a soothing motion. Short gasps emerged from your mouth as your face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. Your breathing began to steady, the initial pain fading as you relaxed into the moment. Your body became more plaint under him, your insides clenched around him in a delicious ache of anticipation.

Illumi began to slowly rock into you, his hips meeting yours with a steady rhythm. His movements were deliberate and controlled, his touch both soothing and intense. As the initial sting began to fade, a wave of pleasure started to build within you, blending with the lingering pain in a bittersweet symphony.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, surrendering to the conflicting sensations that he expertly knew how to bring. Seeing this, Illumi began to move faster. Eager to push you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond, his movements are becoming more urgent and intense.

Grunts escaped his lips so quietly that you would have missed them if he hadn't been so close. The room filled with the sound of your combined breaths, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours intensified. Each movement brought you closer to the edge, aching for release as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

"Illumi!" You cried into his ear, hand pulling at his soft hair. Hips moving against his in sync. "Illumi, please don't stop."

This only furthered his own desire, and he responded by increasing the pace and pressure of his movements, pushing you both towards the peak of ecstasy. The tension is building up within the both of you with each movement, the sensations overwhelming your senses as you reached the brink of pleasure.

Moaning loudly, you felt yourself close to unraveling but not quite there.

Continuing his thrusts, Illumi moved his hand between you, flicking at your clit roughly with his thumb. The added stimulation sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as you finally reached that peak of pleasure. Gasping for breath, you clung to him. He followed shortly after with a stuttering of his hips, his release painting your insides as he groaned in satisfaction. In the aftermath, the both of you panted for air. Sweat coated both of your bodies as you lay tangled together, basking in the afterglow.

Making sure to keep his seed plugged inside, he leaned back from you. His hand that gripped at your thigh traveled up to your stomach, where it rested. Dark eyes looked at you, filled with a mix of satisfaction and longing.

"You will never be without me," he whispered, his voice husky. "I will always be a part of you, in every way possible."

~~~~~~~~

"Caladen, Illyrio. Explain yourselves."

You sat in your usual chair at the table, with your daughter on your lap and your two boys in front of you. Each looking guilty, never being one to hide from the judgment of their mother. Your daughter, Sylvia, was unconcerned, knawing on the fabric of your dress despite your efforts to persuade her to stop.

At just five years old, the two boys bore a striking resemblance to their father, and as they grew older, they undoubtedly continued to do so. Dark eyes that stared into the soul and pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The only semblance of you in them was how they acted. One, stubborn as all hell that rebeled all chances he had, and the other, more obedient, an observer with a silver tongue.

Illyrio spoke first, his voice steady and confident, while Caladen remained silent, a slight frown on his face. The broken pot was behind them, proof of their misdeeds, and was being cleaned up by a butler. It was only on the ground for a couple seconds before it was swept away. Looking like nothing had happened at all.

"We were just practicing, mama."

Seeing the looks on their faces, you almost felt yourself give in to their innocent facade, but you knew better than to be fooled by their charm. It was only a matter of time before they were up to no good again. That mischievous streak was all their own.

"What it looks like you were doing," you start, staying stern with a frown. "Was messing around despite being told to stop playing so roughly in the house, especially our dining room. I expect you both to behave, you know better."

The children exchanged guilty glances, realizing they had been caught red-handed once again.

"Yes, mama."

Their heads hung low as they mumbled their response, knowing that their mischievous behavior had consequences. You couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and affection for your children. They were only children, but being a child of the Zoldyck family was no easy feat.

In your thoughts, you don't notice the arrival of your husband until he lays a hand on your shoulder. The action made you look up at him, smiling softly at him.

"Go train with your grandmother today." He said, not bothering to look their way as he leaned over you, a blank expression on his face. Voice is still plain as always. "You will need to be punished, so do tell her what you did."

This made your frown deepen; you didn't want them to be punished so harshly. The boys left the dining room without another word. They had always respected and obeyed their father.

As you watched them go, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for what they were about to endure. Kikyo's training was notoriously brutal. They were unforgiving and left lasting scars, you knew from experience. For a moment, they looked like normal kids, laughing together as they ran down the hall. Their assigned butlers were following right behind them.

Your focus was drawn back to Illumi, who had taken your daughter from you. The baby giggled in his arms; chubby fingers immediately began pulling at his long hair. Her blue eyes looked at her father with interest, white hair framing her face in short curls.

She was an innocent, pure child, but you knew that Illumi would raise her to be just as ruthless as he was. The thought made your heart ache, but you had no choice but to watch from afar.

All of your children were Zoldycks; it was their birthright and destiny to be trained as assassins.

"How is little Sylvia this morning?" Illumi asked, sitting next to you at the dining table. She bore a striking resemblance to her grandfather, which her family valued. You knew that Sylvia's future was already set in stone from that alone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you replied, "She's doing well, as always."

He nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes, and returned his attention to his food. Sylvia proceeded to play with the pins on his vest as he fed her.

Illumi began to talk about the typical topics. How he had dealt with his most recent target, upcoming missions, the training regiment that the boys would follow, and the time you were permitted to spend with them.

Every week, you were given an entire day to spend with your children. It was a time you were thankful for. Considering the demands of their training and missions, every hour you could spend with them was valuable.

He had noticed you weren't exactly paying attention to him, only humming in response to his words with no real engagement. Saying your name fixed the problem; your shoulders straightened, and you made eye contact.

"Your mind seems to be elsewhere, dear."

"Just thinking about the boys. Their training is getting more intense." You answered honestly, your hand reaching out to wipe your daughter's mouth of drool with your napkin.

You were often concerned about your boys. They carried a lot of responsibility being the oldest of your children and the first grandchildren.

After you cleaned up your daughter, you gave him that same soft smile you have grown accustomed to giving him. Though it seemed forced at times, he thought he'd never see those loving eyes staring at him. Still, Illumi could tell that wasn't the only thing occupying your mind.

His frigid fingers reached out and moved some hair from your face, catching you by surprise. He wasn't one to be affectionate outside of the bedroom.

The fatigue on your face was more visible in the light.

He had kept you on a strict schedule and diet since your arrival years ago, but he couldn't ignore the signs of weariness sneaking in. You hadn't been sleeping well lately, your appetite had diminished, and you weren't as positive. With the recent birth of your daughter only a few months prior, he knew it was time for a change. Something to cheer you up from the mood you were in.

"I plan to take you and the children to the village soon." He said suddenly, not reacting to the shocked look on your face, busy getting his slobber covered pin from the strong hands of his daughter.

It had been years since you left the mountain; it had been your home—prison—for the last few years. As evidenced by how much his hair had grown, now reaching his lower back from the short style he had when you two first met. Illumi had been adamant to keep your contact to only himself, his family, and the help of the mansion.

"Is it for a mission?" You asked, trying to gauge his intentions, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, sipping on the teacup in hand.

"No, it's not for a mission," he replied smoothly, handing Sylvia over to you once your hands were free. "There is a festival happening that I think the twins will enjoy. I will inform the butlers to pack."

Without saying anything else, he leaned down to kiss your daughter's head and gave you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the door, leaving you to wonder about his sudden change of heart.

Watching him go, you still had the frown on your face. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his decision than he let on. While you watched him disappear down the hallway, a sinking feeling formed in your gut. You couldn't help but wonder what prompted this surprising act.

It was a thought that left quickly as your lovely daughter spit up all over the front of your dress to your dismay.

~~~~~~~~

The festival was a celebration that was known for its lively atmosphere and colorful decorations.

Ahead of you, the boys looked at the passing floats with an awestruck expression. They had run off without a care in the world, eager to explore all the festivities the festival had to offer.

You were tempted to yell after them, your heart thrumming at the sight of them so far. At first, the crowd didn't help your anxiety. But as you saw the smiles on your children's faces, you began to relax and enjoy the festivities. The music, food, and laughter surrounding you made it easy to forget about your worries for a while.

Still, you were not completely at ease.

It was something you weren't hiding well, gripping the stroller so tightly, your knuckles turning white. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to trust that your children were safe and having a great time. Their butlers were sure to stay by them, and they had their parents.

Illumi was walking next to you, idly looking at the different stalls with disinterest. It was admittedly weird to see him in public with civilians. As you continued to navigate through the bustling crowd, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Despite the festive atmosphere, a sense of apprehension still gnawed at you. It was a struggle to stay present and enjoy the moment after being kept in the mountain for so long. Seeing your thoughts racing, Illumi's hand reaches out for yours, his eyes communicating his thoughts well enough.

"Just a lot of people." You said, squeezing his hand back as you both walked.

"We can go somewhere for a moment." He suggested, waving a butler over to the both of you.

Without asking your opinion, he took you by the hand to a bench not too far but far enough to offer some privacy from the bustling crowd. The butler had taken Sylvia with no objections, leaving you and Illumi alone to finally have a moment of peace. Sitting down, you immediately felt relieved.

Awkwardly, he kept his eyes on you the entire time, unblinking.

He often likes to just watch, not saying anything. Countless times you woke up to the sight of him standing over you in your shared room. His gaze was intense, almost unsettling, but you found comfort in his presence nonetheless after the years. Illumi's silent companionship was something you had grown accustomed to, even if it still sent shivers down your spine at times.

"You know, it's nice to see them like this." You said, breaking the silence. "So… normal."

The boys were both leaning over the stroller, showing their softer sides as they cooed and made faces at the baby. They both turned to you, smiling, their eyes filled with genuine affection for the little one. Much like the rest of the family, that little girl had them wrapped around her finger. Illumi studied them alongside you, his hand now resting on your thigh as he scooted closer.

"Do not get attached to the sight. It will not last. We will only be in town for a couple nights."

His words served as a reminder of the impermanence of the moment, but you chose to savor it nonetheless. Illumi's gaze flickered to you briefly before returning to the children, his expression unreadable as always.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," he replied, standing up as he looked down at you, hand extended.

You simply took his hand, walking with him without another word.

~~~~~~~~

The night went by faster than you wanted. It was nice to see your family together.

A flicker of shock went through you at the thought, your hand faltered as you burped your daughter. The butler beside you wanted to, but you refused. You preferred to take care of them yourself.

You glanced over at Illumi across the park table, who was in conversation with the twins about types of assassinations. The night had been surprisingly pleasant, and you were grateful for the rare moment of peace. In your arms, Sylvia yawned, her tiny hands rubbing her eyes as a grumpy look was on her face. It was about time for bed.

"Lumi, I think we should head out. Sylvia is sleepy."

Instantly, the boys both looked disappointed, but Illumi nodded in agreement, standing up and motioning for the twins to follow.

"Can't we stay a little longer?" One boy asked, leaning forward to you.

"We haven't even ridden the carousel yet," the other twin chimed in, a hopeful look in his eyes. You smiled at their enthusiasm, thinking it over a bit as you gathered everything.

"Gotta see what your dad says."

With a sigh, you glanced at Illumi, who didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of staying longer. A moment of silence went by as he thought it over.

You stood next to him, tilting your head slightly in anticipation of his response. Finally, he nodded in agreement, surprising you and the twins.

"A hotel has been booked in preparation. You can head over with the butlers. I'll take them on a ride or two, but you both have to accompany me to the next mission."

Illumi looked at them as they cheered before at you. Leaning up, you kissed him on the cheek, a rare display of affection from you.

"Have fun!" You smiled at him with such glee, a look of pure happiness that made his heart swell with warmth.

Illumi looked surprised at that, his eyes slightly wider, and he held the cheek you had kissed.

~~~~~~~~

Checking into the hotel was an easy process. The butlers came with you, unpacking everything with ease and swiftness.

The suite was filled with everything you'd need for a weekend retreat. Two separate rooms, one for the kids and the other for you two, a living room connected to the kitchen, and a balcony with the view of the town.

Sylvia slept peacefully in her bassinet after being fed one more time and a bath.

Leaning over the railing, you watched the rise and fall of her chest.

Your children had become your whole world, their innocence and vulnerability a constant reminder of the love and responsibility you held in your heart. The first time you were pregnant, you hated the changes in your body and the loss of control. You had vowed to him you would hate them and that you didn't want them. They would be a daily reminder of what Illumi did to you, after all.

But the day you held them for the first time, all the resentment melted away, replaced with an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

Feeling sleepy yourself, you rose from the uncomfortable position you were in. It had been time for you to get some much needed rest as well. Going into the master bedroom, you quickly stripped and showered. The butlers that guided you to the hotel had been in the living room, telling you to call for them if needed.

Oddly, they hadn't come to check on you like they usually did.

Sighing in relief, you stepped out of the bathroom. Now you were dressed in a simple nightgown that reached your midthigh. It was made of soft cotton with a delicate lace trim. You would prefer something more casual, but Illumi liked to see you in the finer things.

Idly, you had gone to the dresser, picking up the snack you had brought into the room with you. It was just a fresh abaripe, a blue fruit similar to an apple found in the area, with a small knife nearby for cutting it up. Humming in contentment at the taste of it, you continued to slice it up in your hand, deciding to watch a show before bed.

The sight you walked into made you freeze in shock, the fruit dropping from your hand. A man stood in the middle of the room, the light from the fireworks blazing behind him. You'd never seen him before, hence all the alarms set off in your head. You nearly screamed when you opened your mouth, hand gripping the knife harder, but the man instantly raised his hands, shushing you with urgency.

"I'm here to help." The man urged, taking a step forward as you took one back. "Your family hired me to find you."

You felt a mix of relief and confusion, unsure of whether to trust this stranger. Your eyes are keeping watch of him for any signs of deception or danger. After a few moments of tense silence, you finally lowered the knife and allowed him to speak more.

He explained the situation to you in a fast manner, clearly nervous at the same time. How your family had hired him to find you, how they had spent most of their money in this almost endless pursuit. He had even said he began to help out of the goodness of his heart after seeing them so desparate.

It had taken him years, but he finally found you.

Your heart only beat more, thoughts racing with the realization that your family had been searching for you for so long. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—relief, guilt, and gratitude all at once.

Then, it was all overshadowed by one thing—fear.

Blood rushed into your ears, your chest moving to take panicked breaths. The very room seemed to shrink around you, walls closing in fast.

What would Illumi do to you if he found out?

No, no, no, no, no, you couldn't take more punishments. More bleeding. More torment. More pain.

It had taken years to get this point. The very thought of going back to their basement made you feel queasy, the food you had eaten earlier threatening to come back up. More anxiety filled you as you thought of the worst of things.

What about your children? You can't leave them.

His touch on your arm jolted you, bringing you back to reality. You could see he was sweating, scared in his own right. If he got caught, he was worse than dead.

You weren't much better, looking like a deer in headlights, as he began to pull you towards the balcony. Your feet only planted in place, trying to slow him down if not stop him completely. Your hand is trying to wretch his from around you. His grip is stronger than you would have expected, especially considering the amount of training the Zoldycks have made you endure to be one of them.

"N-no, what about my kids?" You pleaded; you felt your heart beat frantically in your chest. The urgency in his eyes was unmistakable, and you knew he was not going to wait for anyone. Your stomach turned with fear at the thought of leaving your children behind.

"We don't have time. The butlers are knocked out, but we have to move now."

"Let me at least get my girl!" You yelled, desparation in your voice as you panicked more and more. Your vision began to blur from the tears going down your eyes. Nails digging into his hand.

You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them.

YOU CAN'T LEAVE THEM.

He didn't listen to you, pulling you harder across the room. It was only once his hand touched the doorknob to the balcony did you react.

You put the small but sharp knife into him faster than you could have imagined. You had done it mindlessly and, by chance, got him in the throat; you had almost forgotten it was in your hand.

He let go of you, looking at you in shock as you pulled the blade out. Blood spurted from the wound like a fountain.

It almost seemed as if time slowed down. His hand slowly went to hold his bleeding throat; his other hand weakly reached towards you. The shock and horror in his eyes were quickly replaced by a look of betrayal as he realized the extent of your actions. Without saying a word, you only reacted.

Again and again, and again and again.

You continued to stab him, even as he crumpled against the glass door. The knife may have been small, but it was sharp and deadly, each stab punctuating the air with a sickening sound. Adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled the screams that echoed in the room, leaving only the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.

Blood coated everything by the time you were done. The moon shone a red glow into the room from the amount of blood on the window. It was now silent, other than blood dripping from the knife onto the floor, a haunting reminder of the gruesome act that had just taken place.

Soaked into the carpet below you, it began to pool around you both. The body of the man was long still, looking into nothing with dull eyes. His skin now has a gray hue to it, and his lips are a shade of blue.

The only movement in the room was the slow rise and fall of your chest as you sat there, staring at what you had done.

~~~~~~~~

Illumi should have noticed something was off sooner when he didn't see the butlers that were supposed to be with you.

He was a bit distracted as he walked into the suite, holding both of the sleeping boys with ease. The three of them had spent longer out, racking up stuffies they won at the scam games.

One in particular, Illumi had won for you. He had caught you staring at it for a bit earlier. It was an ugly, cheap thing with bug eyes, but something told him to get it for you.

The butler put the bag of goodies on the counter before taking the twins from Illumi to get them into bed.

Illumi silently began to walk towards the master bedroom, the stuffie in hand from the bag.

Normally, you would have greeted him by now. Even if you were tired, you always heard him come home. Sleepily getting out of bed to greet him once he entered was a routine you never broke. But tonight, you remained silent. He figured you must have been in a deep sleep; you have been tired as of late.

Once he was closer to the door, his nose picked up on the scent of rust. It was a thick scent that he knew all too well. For the very first time in his life, Illumi felt scared. The worst scenarios ran through his mind as he stepped faster, pins in hand, stuffie dropped to the floor.

Maybe you had hurt yourself? Had he really missed the signs?

Imagine his surprise and relief when he rushed to open the door to find his wife sitting in front of a body.

You didn't respond when he called out to you, still shaken and shocked by what you had done. The man's body had already become cold. He completely ignored it, cradling your face and looking at him. He was just concerned about you.

"What happened?" He demanded to know, looking over you for any injuries.

He was relieved to find you were unscathed, physically at least. Your eyes didn't look at him until he repeated your name again. Finally, you met his gaze, tears streaming down your face, mixing with the blood dried on your face.

"He tried to take me from you." You whispered, almost falling into his arms. Your hands gripped his shirt as you looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He cupped your face, admiring the work of art you were, thumb smearing the bloodstains on your cheeks.

"Oh, dear. I'm so proud of you."

A twisted smile appeared on Illumi's face as he kissed you gently. You had killed someone.

His sweet wife. HIS. To stay with HIM.

With your family.

It was where you belonged.

#yandere hxh #yandere illumi x reader #hxh x reader #yandere illumi #reader insert #cw yandere #cw noncon #cw dubcon #cw blood #cw kidnapping #cw: gore #cw smut #yandere x reader #yandere imagines

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mythicalninjas · 12 hours

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Hi! Idk if you’re requests are still open but!

Could you do a Donnie getting mad/having a bad day and he kinda explodes (with no reason/gratuitamente) with reader (she)? And they stay away from the lair for a while, and happy ending! (Just want heart-crushing angst with happy ending hsuahs)

(Tbh the prompt I actually thought was “Donnie was stressed and tired of being different, reader who’s autistic says they relate, so he explodes saying they don’t, how could they?” But idk if you’re ok with writing that, so I simplified it! ~I’m autistic, that’s why I thought of that~)

If my ask is to complicated or didn’t inspire you that’s tots ok! I understand! (Sorry this ask was so big too!)

Have a good day/ night! ☺️

It's okay, your prompt is amazing ☺️ Sorry for keeping you waiting for too long... I had to deal with college in the past several months.

I hope I did write the way you asked. Enjoy 💜

It was a quiet night in the lair, but that didn't reflect Donatello's internal state. The laboratory was plunged into darkness, save for the dim light of the monitors that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The frantic sound of the keyboard echoed, the only sound apart from the hum of the machines at work. Donnie was exhausted, physically and emotionally. His brain was burning with data overload, with formulas and calculations that didn't fit together as they should. It had been days of incessant research, of failed experiments, of trying to find solutions to problems that seemed to multiply.

Every mistake, every failure, was a nagging reminder that he needed to be better. He had to be better. There was no room for weakness. His brothers depended on him, the world depended on him. And the constant pressure to deliver results was starting to implode inside. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he kept pushing, ignoring the body that was crying out for rest, ignoring the accumulated stress.

She entered the laboratory, as she had done so many times before. Her steps were soft, as if she were trying not to interrupt, but her presence always brought a sense of comfort that Donnie appreciated, even if he never admitted it out loud. He was so focused that he barely noticed her coming until he felt the soft touch of her fingers on his shoulder.

"Hey, Donnie..." Her voice was soft, a gentle touch to his swirling mind. "Are you all right?"

Donatello barely lifted his eyes from the monitors, trying to recalculate a complicated sequence. "I'm busy now," he muttered, his fingers still running across the keyboard.

She waited for a moment, watching the tiredness on his face. She knew that he threw himself into his work when he was frustrated or anxious, and she had learned to give him space when necessary. But now, there was something different in the air. He seemed more tense than usual, more closed off.

She let out a little sigh, hesitating before speaking again. "I know you're busy, but... maybe it's time to take a break? You've been at it for hours..."

Her touch should have been a comfort, but at that moment, something in Donnie snapped. The pressure, the frustration, the accumulated tiredness - it all blended together in an explosion of emotions that he could no longer control.

“I said I'm busy!” His voice echoed louder than he had intended. He stood up abruptly from his chair, his eyes blazing with anger, anger that wasn't hers, but which ended up being directed at her. “Don't you understand? I can't stop! If I stop, I'll fail. If I fail, everything falls apart! And you here, distracting me with… with your unimportant things!

She took a step back, shocked. The impact of his words had hit her like a punch in the gut. Never, in all the time she had known him, had he spoken to her like that. Always so calm, so controlled… but now, he seemed on the verge of collapse. Her eyes filled with tears before she could control herself, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't want to show how much it had hurt her.

“I'm sorry for… bothering you.” Her voice was low, broken, almost inaudible.

She turned quickly and left the lab before he could say anything else, before the tears flowed. Donnie stood there, his heart racing, the echo of his words still hanging in the air. For a few seconds, he remained motionless, trying to process what had just happened. Then the guilt began to set in, slow and corrosive.

He had hurt someone who had never been anything but kind to him. He had hurt her.

She walked aimlessly through the streets of New York, the cold of the night beginning to bother her, but nothing compared to the tightness in her chest. The emotional pain was much stronger than any physical discomfort. She couldn't stop thinking about his words, the tone of his voice. It was as if the Donnie she knew, the one who always cared, who listened and understood, had disappeared, replaced by someone she barely recognized.

She walked for hours, wandering around the city, trying to find some clarity amidst the confusion of feelings. Part of her wanted to understand why he had exploded like that. He was overwhelmed, that was obvious. But did that justify what he'd said? The sharp words still echoed in her mind, and she wondered if he really thought that.

While she was lost in thought, Donnie was back in the lab, but his focus had completely disappeared. The screens flashed in front of him, but he could barely see what was written. Guilt was consuming him from the inside out. He knew he had made a mistake, that he had said horrible things. The frustration he felt wasn't her fault, and yet he had taken it out on the person who least deserved it.

Finally, he got up from his chair and left the lair. He needed to find her, he needed to correct the mistake he had made. He didn't know exactly what he would say, but he knew he had to apologize, he had to make amends.

After some time, he found her. She was sitting on top of a building, her gaze lost in the horizon. The evening breeze swayed her hair, and Donnie felt his heart squeeze at seeing her so far away, so hurt. He hesitated for a moment before approaching. Each step seemed heavy, weighed down by guilt and regret.

“Hey,” he called, his voice softer than before, almost fearful.

She didn't turn around immediately, but he knew she had heard. Donnie sat down next to her, keeping a respectful distance. The silence between them was thick, full of unspoken words, but he knew he needed to speak, needed to break through that wall he himself had erected.

“I'm sorry,” he began, his voice low, sincere. “I… I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You didn't deserve that. None of it was your fault.”

She remained silent for a few moments, and he almost thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed, her eyes still fixed on the city.

“Why did you do it, Donnie?” her voice was broken, and he realized how much his words had really hurt her. “I just… I just wanted to help you. And you pushed me away.”

Donnie closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his own failings. “I know. I know you were only trying to help. And I… I was an idiot. I was frustrated, tired, and lost control. But that's no excuse for what I did.”

She finally turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were watery, but the anger had given way to a deep sadness. “You didn't have to hurt me like that, Donnie. I'm always here for you, you know that. And yet… you blew up at me, as if I was part of the problem.”

Her words dug deep into Donnie's heart. He had been the cause of her pain, and now he could clearly see the impact his actions had had. It wasn't just the momentary explosion, but what came after - the insecurity, the doubt. He needed to fix that.

Donnie swallowed, feeling small in the face of what he had caused. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice full of regret. “You're… the last person in the world I wanted to be cruel to. I was just so overwhelmed, with all the pressure of being the brains, of having to sort everything out for my brothers… And I ended up taking it out on you.”

She sighed, looking at the horizon again. “I understand that you have this responsibility, Donnie. I know how much you carry. But I was also there, trying to share that weight with you. And you pushed me away, as if I wasn't important.”

Her words pierced his heart harder than any physical attack could. She was right. He had spent so long concentrating on his own burden that he didn't realize how much she was trying to help, how much she wanted to be there for him.

“I was wrong,” he said, with more conviction this time. “I was wrong about everything. I know I can be controlling and stubborn, but I need you. I… want you by my side. You're important to me. More than I can express.”

She remained silent, absorbing his words. He moved a little closer, reaching out hesitantly and placing his hand gently on hers.

“I promise,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I promise I'll try to be better. I'll work on myself, on how I handle things, so that this doesn't happen again.”

She looked at him, her eyes finally meeting his, assessing the sincerity she saw there. And she realized that, although he had made a mistake, he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right. It was a long road, but she knew Donnie was committed to walking it.

“I want to believe that, Donnie,” she murmured, her voice still tinged with a slight pain. “I just… need some time.”

He nodded, understanding. “I understand. And I'll give you as much time as you need.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, side by side, watching the city lights. The noise of life below continued, indifferent to the emotions that filled the top of that building. But there, between them, time seemed to have slowed down, making room for reconciliation, for forgiveness.

She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, a small concession. He felt relief run down his spine, as if that simple gesture was proof that things would eventually be all right. He knew he was lucky - lucky that she was still there, by his side, even after everything.

Donnie wrapped his arm around her, gently pulling her closer, as if he were trying to protect her not only from the outside world, but also from himself. His heart was pounding, but this time, not out of guilt or anger, but out of gratitude. He knew he had a second chance, and he would do his best not to waste it.

They stayed there for a while longer, the silence now less heavy, more comforting. The cold night wind blew lightly, but Donnie felt the warmth of having her close again. She was still hurting, and he knew it would take time for everything to heal completely. But he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to win back her trust.

Finally, she stood up slowly, and Donnie followed her. She gave him a small smile, still shy, but which warmed his heart. “Let's go home,” she said, and those words were all he needed to hear.

Together, they descended from the building and headed back to the lair. The walk back was silent, but the tension between them had eased. She didn't hold his hand, but she didn't push him away either. For Donnie, that was a start.

And he knew that, in time, they would find a way to heal - together.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2014 #tmnt fanfiction #fanfic

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