#over a long period of time he tested it out and found that no matter what he was asking arthur would give it to him if he did this

[justaz]

when merlin asks arthur for things, the king is usually inclined to give him what he wants but it is not always guaranteed such as when his emotions cloud his judgement. but merlin’s surefire way of getting arthur to give in? he steps into his space, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says “arthur, please” and he folds like a house of cards.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜

"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse. 

"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch. 

"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30. 

"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes. 

"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug. 

"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.

I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself. 

Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.

Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time. 

Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long. 

Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them. 

Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified. 

This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine. 

I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.

I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.

He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows. 

Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right? 

Only one way to find out though...

A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings. 

"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet. 

Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again. 

Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.

Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things. 

I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.

"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch. 

Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay. 

He needs to know, he deserves to know.

We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings. 

I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes. 

He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too. 

Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.

"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going. 

"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that's mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise. 

His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing. 

"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do. 

"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next. 

"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster. 

"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion. 

"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.

"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a way to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief. 

"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.

"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten. 

He is nervous

I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay. 

"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again. 

"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding. 

"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it. 

He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile. 

"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back. 

"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.

"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore. 

"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's no chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle. 

"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.

He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?" 

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[missuswalker]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 || 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𐙚 summary: donnie asks you on a date, (to his room) and, of course, you can’t resist those eyes

𐙚 warnings: pointless fluff + brief smut because i love him, donnie being too cute, maybe too long + not proofread (aged up, obviously, let’s say seniors in hs) not proofread oops

𐙚 notes: i’m obsessed with him can somebody talk with me about this subject matter

Donnie, while not shy, wasn’t the most courageous boy out there. At least, when it came to you. His brain stopped working when you were near and he’d overshare until there was nothing else to say. You stuck around, though. You liked his stories. You liked spending time with him. He liked spending time with you, too. He’d pass you a note in class, pretending to stretch so he could drop the folded paper on the desk behind him. He loved to hear the crinkle of the paper as you unfolded it, your quiet giggles following. Every time you would write back, he’d pocket the paper and take it home.

The teacher loved your little ‘budding relationship’ quite a bit less than the two of you did, though. In fact, Donnie had gotten detention twice now for his constant whispers and laughs he shared with you. He didn’t care. As long as he kept you hooked on him, he’d take any punishment. Besides, Ms. Dulwich was exactly what her name described her as. A dull witch. She was a miserable, lonely woman who had nothing better to do than move Donnie as far away from you as possible. He always managed to get a note back to your desk, despite the newfound circumstances of having a desk at the very front of the room.

It was today, though, that he decided he needed to finally step up to the plate. He couldn’t just wait around forever. You’d lose interest or someone else would get to you first. The thought plagued his mind more than Frank, it was a constant bother.

It was 11:05, his, and your, lunch period. After debating on whether or not he go through the lunch line, he ultimately decides he was too nervous to eat, so instead, he begins to search for you. He eventually spotted you at the end of a table full of girls, the lot of you laughing and gossiping, as one does. He rubs his sweaty palms on his pants, and begins his journey towards the crowded table. He didn’t believe you fit in with those girls. They were loud, obnoxious and so… plastic. You were real. They didn’t deserve you, but Donnie definitely did. At least that was what he believed.

“Y/n,” he interrupts, ignoring the girl who he’d just cut off, rubbing his hands on his pants once again. As soon as you look up at him with that smile, he thought he might as well just marry you. He just couldn’t seem to get his words out, his mouth falling open and closing, over and over. The girls around you began to quietly snickers, giving glances and eye rolls. “Do you wanna eat lunch with me?” He finally spit it out, finally asked. Now the hard part was over. The girls began to giggle, but you nodded, standing from your seat. “Okay,” you said, your voice so calm. Immediately your friend’s laughter stops, the snobby girls looking on in disbelief. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with Donnie, the group just thought he was kind of a freak, to say the least.

You had never thought of Donnie as a freak. You saw him as the smart guy he was, which was a boost to his ego, considering he found you rather intelligent as well, though your smarts didn’t always show through a test. Maybe he just thought so highly of you because he liked you, but either way, he knew he enjoyed talking to you. “I hate them, I’m sorry. They’re just brats. They weren’t laughing at you, they were laughing at me,” you tell Donnie, sitting across from him at an empty table. Donnie furrows his brows, watching you pick at your lunch. “Why would they laugh at you,” he snorts, his eyes trailing back to the girls who were staring right back, poking each other and whispering. “I talk about you a lot,” you say vaguely.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Donnie decided he couldn’t take it anymore. If he didn’t ask what had been driving him crazy for so long, he’d never be able to sleep at night. “Do you wanna go with me? Like, do you wanna, like, I don’t know. Never mind, shut up. Not you, me,” he rambles, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut in disbelief. You stare at him, seeming so bewildered for a moment, before you simply begin to laugh. “Yeah, I wanna go with you.” Donnie nodded in response, biting his lip. “I like you,” he says, eyes flickering all over your face. “I know,” you snort.

“Will you come over after school? We can just hang out, or I can read you this book, it’s… I think you’d like it,” he blurts, his heart pounding. He could hardly process everything happening right now, his mind going haywire. “Yeah, okay, that’d be cool,” you nod, leg bouncing under the table. “Okay. Cool,” Donnie sighs. The rest of lunch wasn’t so bad. The two of you just talked like you normally did and the awkward tension went away completely. It was like nothing changed, though both of you knew something did, indeed, change.

𐙚

As the two of you stepped into his bedroom, successfully having gotten passed his mother’s questions and his fathers jokes, you dropped your book bag on the floor. “You can sit on the bed, I’m gonna grab that book,” Donnie tells you, kicking off his shoes. When he joins you on the bed, he hesitantly wraps his arm around your shoulder, opening the book. You look up at him, giving a grin. “What are you doing,” you ask, putting your hand on his elbow. “I’m not doing anything,” he says, looking down at you as he bites back his smile. After a moment of silence, he looks down at your lips. “You know, you’re my first girl,” he says, his voice quiet. “Oh, so I’m your girl?” You rest your head on his shoulder, Donnie giggling. You loved his laugh. It was so airy and silly. “I meannn,” he trails off, looking away for a moment.

“I think I like being your girl,” you hum, raising a brow. “That makes one of us,” he jokes, causing the both of you to laugh. Then, again, there was silence. He slowly moved down, his lips dangerously close to yours. “Donnie,” you snort, grabbing his face and pushing him away. He gently pulls your hand away, sticking out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout. “What?” You think for a moment, giving a shrug. “I dunno.” He scans your face for a moment, brows furrowing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have tried anything. I’m not expecting anything from you, I just, I was thinking… I don’t know, I thought maybe you wanted to kiss me, so,” she begins, only to be cut off by your lips on his.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to get a little too passionate, your shirt on his floor and his hand hovering over your bra. You move his hand onto your tit to give him the extra push, and then he’s all over you. “I really didn’t plan this or anything, I swear. I really like you,” he rambles on, sliding his fingers under the white fabric of your bra, his inexperienced fingers playing with your nipple. “Stop talking,” you say softly, hand fiddling with the button on his pants. “Gotcha,” he mumbles, reconnecting your lips until your hand meets his hard cock, covered by his boxers. “I’ve imagined this before, actually not to long ago, but this is better,” he tells, not able to stay quiet because he just always had to say whatever was on his mind. You almost laugh against his lips. “Donnie, you’re really cute, but shut up.”

He nods, grunting at the feeling of your fingers grazing the skin of his stomach. “Sorry. You’re so pretty, can’t help it,” he huffs, pushing his nose into your hair. He pushes your hand away, pulling his dick out of his boxers, because he just couldn’t wait any longer. “You don’t have to do anything, I-” He’s cut off with a moan as your head ducks down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the head of his cock. “Oh, shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he tells you. You look up at him, one hand moving to make a ring around the base of his dick, slowing moving it up and down, the other finding his balls, squeezing gently. His fingers fly to your hair, gripping at the roots. He rewards you with heavenly moans, twitching in your mouth. You slowly drag your tongue around his tip before moving down. As soon he dick his the back of your throat and you hollowed your cheeks, he cums down your throat, tossing his head back as if his soul left his body.

You make sure he’s looking at you as you swallow, pulling away to let him take a moment. “You never had your dick sucked?” You question, running your fingers through his hair. She shakes his head, putting his thumb in between your teeth, pulling your mouth open. Letting his finger trail back down to your lip, letting it bounce back, he places a sweeter kiss to your lips. “I think I just came into next year,” he breathes, hands finding your tits again. “You’re so romantic,” you say sarcastically, Donnie giving you a dopey smile. “What, you didn’t like it?” He moves his lips to your neck, testing the waters. “No, I liked it.”

“You wanna do it again?”

𐙚 he’s such a virgin, idc, he’d be so awkward and chatty the very first time he did something slightly sexual and it would be so cute and annoying at the same time i want to kiss him

im so tired why’d i stay up so late writing smut about this man

[gravid-transluna]

Commission for @shhhsecretsideblog, hope you enjoy just as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Final signing of divorce papers. He’d cheated with his secretary on a business trip, she threw him out and filed for divorce. Not long after she realised her period was late and after doing a test she discovered she was pregnant. She tried to hide it from him for as long as she could, but he eventually found out. She made it clear that he would have nothing to do with this child.

The divorce negotiations were messy, lots of drawn out arguments and back and forth with solicitors. It had taken months. She wanted it concluded by now but he was dragging his heels. To what end she didn’t know. But eventually they reached a resolution and he agreed to sign the papers, which was happening this afternoon. The only problem was, she’d gone into labour during the night.

Just You and Me, and No One Else

words: 3142

content: clothing birth, inconvenient birth, birth denial, fpreg

Celia wasn’t one to drag things out, neither in her corporate life or personal life, and certainly not in her romantic life. The divorce lawyer’s name was Mr. Einhardt, and he didn’t tolerate very much nonsense either. He was a sort of neutral party, tasked with settling legal matters amicably between the couple. Between this small thing they had in common, and the circumstances leading to Celia’s divorce with her husband Dave, Mr. Eindhart’s sympathies seemed to lie quite decisively with Celia. Cheating on her with his secretary, a young woman just barely out of college! So cliche it nearly bored Celia to tears. The problems had begun long before the discovery, but Celia had rehashed that story enough times by now.

Negotiations had been messy; fights, late-night arguments in the kitchen, pleading, door-slamming. Dave was acting like a child throughout the whole thing. Which was doubly unfortunate, as Celia had received a second shock after the cheating, staring at a test and two pink lines in the bathroom. She was pregnant. Nine months later, she was wedged in the office seat as Mr. Eindhart recounted estate laws with Dave.

Please, she had been praying for the last hour; please, just let it be over. Incessant questions from Dave. More often than not, about the baby. No, her baby. Celia would be damned if she let that cheating, childish scum get within a mile of her child.

Mr. Eindhart was speaking as patiently as possible, but at this point it had all become a soft drone for Celia. The last issue: she had gone into labor during the night. Regular contractions, tightening her midsection and flaring sharp in her lower back. Standing before the mirror in the light of the morning, she’d been able to see clearly just how much her bump had dropped, hanging low between her hips, stretched completely taut, a reddened torpedo, with not another inch of room for the baby. It had been enough of a chore to get dressed and ready and lug herself into Mr. Eindhart’s office every week. Laboring, it was a superhuman feat.

Her hips burned, jammed into the seat. They had widened over the course of her pregnancy, and now she barely fit into any chair available. This, combined with the massive belly sprawling in her lap whenever she sat down, made for even more discomfort.

“Ms. Greene?” Her maiden name. She saw Dave flinch slightly when Mr. Eindhart used it. “Are you alright? Pardon, but you look quite uncomfortable. Do you need some water?”

“No,” she sighed, brushing his concern away. “No, thank you. When you’re this pregnant, doing anything is uncomfortable.”

Dave was frowning at her. “You sure, hun?”

Celia scowled. She knew the feigned concern had only been prompted by Mr. Eindhart’s comment; nothing more than an excuse to use the word hun. “If you could cut it with the pet names, that would be nice.”

He rolled his eyes, tried to catch Mr. Eindhart’s eye: Women, right? A comment she’d heard frequently during her marriage, even more so with her so-called ‘pregnancy hormones,’ the ‘mood swings’ that were preventing her from thinking straight.

Today, they weren’t entirely unfounded. All she could think about was her belly, the sheet of muscle over her womb, rippling and contracting as she tried to cut Dave off from some long-winded procession of his victimhood. The baby inside, the head positioned right into her cervix, pressing with increasing urgency. She had to ignore her body for the time being. She had to remain calm and collected and—

“Listen,” Celia interrupted, leaning over her tight swell. “Could we please hurry things along?” —glaring at Dave— “We’ve been through these questions enough times, wouldn’t you say?”

“I just want to make sure we have all the information,” he protested, the slimeball. “To make the right choice.”

Celia was about to retort when she felt the familiar banding around her stomach, and clenched in on herself, riding out the waves of pain and pressure once again. She hoped that her gritted teeth and wrinkled brow could be attributed to her impatience.

Her baby squirmed, cramped in her full, brimming belly. She shifted again. Things were really ramping up. As the contraction receded, she thumbed through the pages of legal documents until she reached the last one, the blank line where their joint signatures would go, and stifled a huff of frustration. There were still at least forty pages?! This pressure was a bad sign, she knew. Soon, she’d barely be able to sit, the head felt dangerously low.

The minutes ticked by. Contraction after contraction. Her belly, hot like a furnace, wracked and misshapen with their clenching force.

“Jesus,” Celia muttered unconsciously under her breath. “The pressure….” Then she looked up to see Mr. Eindhart and Dave staring at her.

“Excuse me, my dear?” Mr. Eindhart said, head tilted politely.

Celia cleared her throat, straightened her back. “The pressure he’s been putting me through, lately. It’s, er, getting to be unbearable.”

Dave was shaking his head solemnly. “You can’t even imagine my feelings. You just can’t see the other side.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Celia covered up her consternation with a sarcastic laugh.

Another fifteen minutes. Contractions about five minutes apart. Celia realized that she had to use the bathroom, and had to use it now. The pressure was beginning to force her legs apart, despite her efforts to keep them tightly pinched together. The weight, god, the heaviness. She felt fuller than ever, an all-encompassing fullness. It stood to reason, she thought, her bladder would be feeling the strain.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to use the restroom.” She painstakingly stood, unable to conceal a grunt at the weight of gravity on her sagged, bowed belly. Hoping they didn’t notice the slip of skin under her blouse that certainly hadn’t been there this morning, Celia waddled from the office and found the lady’s room.

On the toilet she suffered a contraction that had her hunched over her stomach, toes curling in her pantyhoes tights. Suddenly, eyes wide, mouth open, she felt a spike in the rising pressure. Then— a release. Liquid gushed from her crotch. Celia moaned loudly at the relief. Then she clamped her mouth shut. She wouldn’t have put it past Dave to wait for her outside the bathroom.

Panting, she rose shakily from the toilet and wiped her inner thighs and crotch. She knew her waters had broken, signaling the rapid advance of her labor.

“Please, little one,” Celia murmured. “Just a little longer. Just until it’s only you and me, no one else.”

Dave was looking at her suspiciously when she returned. Even with her effortful concealment, he’d spent enough time around her to know her more subtle forms of expression. She cleared her throat and smiled.

“Where were we?”

Mr. Eindhart smiled a bit absently as Celia dabbed at the sweat beading on her forehead. He shuffled his papers and continued. Soon another contraction was taking hold of Celia, and she stiffened, bracing herself. Still, she wasn’t quite prepared for the intensity, coming on even more severe without her bag of waters to cushion the skull. Her swollen mound flexed visibly beneath the desk. She set her jaw, her knuckles going pale as she gripped her seat. This time the pain was accompanied by the undeniable urge to push. She nearly gasped aloud. Fuck, she wanted to push. It was like nothing else she’d felt before, the deep, overwhelming desire to bear down as hard as she could against the pressure. She held her breath, counted, blinking quickly as she tried to distract herself from the urge. It only grew stronger, pounding through her body, washing over her like a compulsion.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t control her body entirely, and she could feel herself giving small pushes, each one shoving her baby further down through her birth canal. With some mercy the contraction began to ebb, and she floated back into the conversation at hand.

“....and, what if the kid had to list another parent as an emergency contact? That role would go to me, right?”

Celia tried to intercede as smoothly as she could, ignoring the tremble in her voice, the vicious wringing of her womb. “They’re going to have a godmother, and she’ll be listed as a secondary guardian.”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Eindhart said. “Spell her name for me, just in case?”

“Is it Shannon?” Dave asked. “It’s Shannon, isn’t it? I never liked her. A bitch, that’s what she was.”

“Mr. Gardner, I don’t tolerate that kind of language in my office. Another remark and you can go ahead and find a different representative.”

Celia flashed the elderly divorce lawyer a grateful smile before turning her attention back to the impatient baby now beginning to stretch her birth canal wide. She was giving birth at this desk and nobody knew except for her. She could do this.

A hard, clamping pain. She exhaled, suddenly breathless, though it seemed to her company that she was just huffing in annoyance at Dave’s theatrics. When the urge coursed through her, it was nearly impossible to deny.

Don’t push, she told herself. Belly gripping her midsection like a tight closed fist. Don’t push. Internal muscles squeezing around the baby. Don’t—

The need to push was dizzying. She couldn’t help it. Before she knew it, she was bearing down at the desk, thighs spread as far apart as they could manage in her seat. A flush spread to her cheeks. She pushed, and pushed, feeling the baby move downward toward her exit. She couldn’t stop, was barely even aware of her surroundings anymore. All that mattered was the baby coming out of her, the need to get it out, bear down on it with the single-mindedness of a birthing mother.

Her silent straining went unnoticed until she ended her push with a loud grunt. Suddenly there were two heads turned towards her.

“My dear, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Celia?” Dave furrowed his brow. “What kind of sound was that? Didn’t you just use the bathroom, like, thirty minutes ago.”

Exhausted, losing hope that she’d be able to hold this baby in until after the signing, Celia snapped at him. “They’ve been kicking up a damn storm this entire morning, and whose fault is that in the first place? You insist on dragging this out for as long as possible, with me ready to fucking pop” —no comment from Eindhart; he knew better than to lecture a heavily pregnant woman about her language— “so, please, can we just get this over with.”

The head was so big in her canal. The pressure was so bad. She was full to the brim, utterly stretched and gravid with the baby. She couldn’t think about anything else except the need to get it out.

“Yes, well—” blinking, Mr. Eindhart scrambled with the pages. “I suppose we can just skip over a couple of pages…. let’s see here, joint signature, page 87, please.”

“Hey!” Dave protested. “Now, wait a minute.”

Celia was picking up one of Mr. Eindhart’s elegant fountain pens…. Another contraction was coming on, she could feel it broiling in her belly…. every muscle tensing up at once, working with the singular effort to expel her baby…. raising her trembling hand to the page….

To Dave and their lawyer, it may have looked like she had gone stock-still. Really though, she was pushing. Her knuckles shone pale around the pen. She was biting her lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. The baby was moving between her legs, she could feel it. She could have sobbed. The massive head was sliding through her hips, down, down, down towards her exit. She was pushing it out.

Dave took her sudden pause as hesitation. “Oh, honey,” he said. “Look at you! Overcome with emotion, I knew it was just a charade. It’s okay. We don’t have to go through with this.”

The fullness was very low now. A new sensation. The baby was in her vagina! Her labia had begun to bulge grotesquely; the head, of course, was huge. With a laborious effort, Celia scrawled a hasty, spidery signature onto the page. The final step. Done.

She slumped in her chair, push releasing, and her belly sank as her womb muscles relaxed. Her crotch throbbed. The baby’s head was right there, sitting heavily at her entrance, and it felt as if she was perched atop a bowling ball, hips nearly splitting open with the pressure.

Dave looked at the signature with despair. Mr. Eindhart cleared his throat, eyeing him like he suspected Dave might just grab the papers and bolt with them. Instead, he reached for a pen and, even more slowly than Celia had in the throes of giving birth, signed his big, sloppy signature.

“All right,” Mr. Eindhart said, tucking the papers into a folder. “That should be the last of the proceedings!”

Before Celia could react, Dave had stormed from the room. The door swung violently on its hinges.

She knew that she should leave as soon as possible, but getting up from her seat was a monumental task. Still, she struggled valiantly to her feet, containing a scream behind sealed lips as gravity thrust the head further into her nether regions, a wet tent forming in her underwear. She thanked the heavens that she had worn a skirt today. The body, it seemed, was slipping between her hips now, forcing the head down even more. Her gait was less a waddle at this point and more a bowlegged half-squat. She bore the pain and pressure and looked Mr. Eindhart in the eye, smiling as she shook his hand.

“Thank, mm, you. For everything.”

“Please, dear. Get home, get some rest.”

She nodded, unable to speak anymore. The head, god. She was so close to crowning. It was about to come out, she could feel it. She shuffled indelicately from Mr. Eindhart’s office. ‘Getting home’ was not a feasible goal. Celia didn’t even know if she could make it to the lady’s room in time, but she had to try. She couldn’t possibly give birth in these dirty carpeted corridors! One hand following the wall, knees barely supporting herself. She was trailing birthing fluid, leaking through her panties.

Whenever a contraction struck (and they were coming on without pause or respite now) she was forced to stop and squat, grunting the baby further into her nether regions. With every push her lips bulged more and more into the fabric of her underwear, burning with the obscene stretch. Slowly, the head parted them open, and she tried to pant through a contraction, drawing from some intuition that she needed to go slow and let herself stretch, her vagina straining to accommodate the huge head. Instead she loosed a guttural groan, bearing down again until her lips had unfurled into a tight oval. She was limping now, one hand cupped between her thighs as she walked.

As she rounded the hall, the restroom came into view. Almost there, Celia told herself. Just a couple more steps. Dread poured over her as a contraction began to brew in her belly. Oh no— Celia braced herself, steadying her hands against the wall in preparation.

Just then, she heard a shout. “Celia!” Dave had been waiting at the end of the hall, and now he jogged to catch up to her. “Shit, Dave!” Celia hissed as her birth canal wrung her from the inside out. “Fu-u-uck, what could you possibly—urgh! want?!”

Dave caught her arm, too involved in his own self-pity to notice Celia’s wide half-squat, the pinching of her face, the dribbles of liquid from between her spread thighs.

“Just hear me out, okay?” He was upset. His bottom lip quivered like a petulant child’s. He seemed, absurdly, betrayed. “You love me. I know you love me, and that baby is mine. I’m its father, I have a right to meet it.”

Celia stared at him, flabbergasted, the baby crowning into her panties momentarily forgotten. Suddenly she squatted down and bellowed loudly. “OOOOOHHHH!!”

Dave backed away in fear.

“Listennn-mmmfgh!” Celia groaned as she bore down furiously. “Grrrruh! Ugh, ah! I have had it up to here with you. Fuuuuck, I’m only gonna say this one time.” Despite her deep squat, she suddenly seemed to tower over him, red-faced with fury and the exertion of birth.

“Get out of our lives.”

Dave glanced at her in consternation, then scurried down the hall and hopefully out of her life for good.

Celia’s legs finally gave out and she dropped to her knees, unable to withstand the searing pain and pressure spreading her wide open and filling her so completely, it was as if there was no room for anything else anymore; no Dave, no legal documents or income discussions, not even herself or her identity as anything but a mother. Everything was focused on the baby coming out of her, crowning her most sensitive, private region. She gripped her thighs and bore down. Then she pushed her hips back, opening them, and rested her heavy body on her hands and knees. An animalistic urgency coursed through her. This primal position felt good, felt right. This was what she needed to be doing. Pushing, without any other concerns.

Her skirt rode up, exposing the apex of her thighs, her sodden bulging underwear, soaked fabric revealing what was happening behind it. The head slipped further out. Her lips formed a burning circle. Celia’s groans tightened and rose in pitch and she strained, the head unmoving as a boulder for a nerve-wracking second. A full-body shudder. Celia’s eyes rolled back in her head as she pressed her chest to the floor and sloped her rear end into the air, pushing with all she had.

The head burst free, and fluids spattered the hallway wall behind her, soaking the carpet. Celia gasped and panted, but the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

“O-okay, okay, baby.” The shoulders were rotating, she could feel the body turning inside her. The entire head hung from her opening and sagged her panties. “Th-this is iiiittttt-ooooooh!” With one last giant push, the body slid out and a river of fluids gushed freely behind.

Celia sat up on her haunches, scrambling between her tights and underwear with the instinctual desperation of a mother, searching frantically, needing to hold her baby, needing the touch-contact. She brought it from under her skirt to her chest, and heard a gurgling cry. A beautiful girl! Nothing like her father, everything like her mother. Tears streamed from Celia’s eyes and dripped down her nose and cheeks.

“Oh, look at you! Look at you!” She held her to her warm heart. “It’s okay. It’s just us. Just you and me, and no one else.”

[kithtaehyung]

would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

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Ugh. 

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 

Uhh. 

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” 

“Like a motherfucker.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 

“Okay.” 

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 

“It’ll be quick.” 

“What are you making?” 

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 

Oh. 

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 

“No?” 

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 

“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 

“You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 

So this was for him, too? Good. 

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 

“I’m lazy!” 

“Tough shit!” 

“I know!” 

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking. 

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 

Three of them, to be exact. 

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fin. :)

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how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

[bestedoesmeow]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: carlos sainz jr & fiance!reader

request: Carlos x reader trying to have a baby, but after some failure, during the summer break with all of his family in Mallorca they got the big news (baby Carlos is comingg). After a year they come back to the summer house, as a parents, dealing with baby Carlos, with his sister and his mother🥹 (can you make this angst at the begging)

The summer sun hung low over the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the picturesque landscape of Mallorca. Carlos and you stood by the balcony, gazing out at the tranquil waves below. The sea breeze ruffled your hair, a gentle reminder of the passage of time.

It had been a journey of hope and heartache, a story that had begun with dreams of parenthood. But those dreams had been met with silence, punctuated by the bitter sting of failure. The two of you had weathered the storm, your love growing stronger with each setback. Yet, the emptiness lingered, a void that seemed insurmountable.

Amidst the laughter of Carlos' family echoing through the summer house, your heart ached in secret. His sister's children played by the shore, their innocent giggles a painful reminder of what you longed for.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and pinks, you found yourselves alone on the balcony. Carlos turned to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"We can't keep letting this consume us," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I want this more than anything, but I also want us to be okay, no matter what."

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. "I know. It's just... hard, Carlos."

"I know, mi amor," he said, wrapping his arms around you. "But let's make a promise, right here, right now. We won't let this define us. We'll find happiness in each other, in the love we share."

"I thought this summer would be different," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

Carlos nodded, unable to find the words to comfort you. His own frustration and sadness mirrored yours. You've had dreamed of starting a family together, and yet, fate seemed to conspire against you almost like it hated you, it hated you were together and happy.

That summer indeed was different. When you woke up one day to check the situation, the test result was different from the other times, and you wondered if you were still dreaming or if it was a cruel joke played on you and Carlos. The test was positive - two lines on it. You didn't know what to do or how to react.

"Carlos, can you come here for a second?" you called out, beckoning your fiancé to join you.

Your fiancé made his way into the bathroom of your room, his eyes still sleepy with morning hair. You didn't want to wake him up, but you had to, you really had to. You didn't say anything, leaving him even more curious, standing there in his boxers with sleepy eyes.

"Is everything okay, querida? Are you okay? Did you get your period? You know it's okay, we've talked about this," he said, not expecting the situation to be different from the other times.

"No, Carlos—"

"Did you hurt yourself? ¿Estás bien?"

"No, Carlos, look—" You said, showing him the test you had been holding in your hand for the past five minutes he was there. His eyes wandered on the test for more than 10 seconds, maybe as if he was trying to comprehend the situation or trying to understand if he was seeing it correctly.

"You're pregnant, querida? When did you take this? Oh, I can't believe it," he said. His sleepy eyes widened with the news. His hands were placed at the sides of your waist while you were sitting on the bathroom sink, looking at the test with a beautiful smile.

"I took it this morning. I hadn't thought that I'd be actually pregnant this time," you said with obvious disbelief. His hands covered your torso while you were sitting on the sink, wiggling your feet happily.

"You've been wanting it from the bottom of your heart, mi corazón. We've been wanting it actually," he said, cupping your cheeks to leave a happy and relieved kiss on your lips after a long time. Your hands cupped his freshly shaved cheeks, breathing slowly.

"I am so happy, Carlos," you said, your thumbs drawing circles on his cheeks slowly.

"Me too, querida, me too."

Sainzs took the news more excited than ever, actually Reyes did even cry while hugging at you. Then she admitted it in the dinner, she was so happy for the baby but she was happier for you, she hated to see you sad, she loved your energy the most.

The next summer, the visit to Mallorca was quite different from the other times. Your baby boy, Antonio, was cradled in your husband's arms - you and Carlos had decided to get married just after you received the news. As you entered the house, big smiles and even happy tears greeted you. Reyes kissed your cheeks once again to show how proud she was of you, and how strong you had been. Carlos's father took his grandchildren, who was named after his recently passed away father, in his arms and placed a good luck kiss on Antonio's forehead before whispering the words.

''Bienvenido a nuestra familia, Antonio.''

Carlos tightened his hold on your waist before leaving a kiss on the crown of your head.

''I am so proud of you, querida. Te amo.''

''It wouldn't be possible if it weren't for you, Carlos. Te amo, forever.''

[twjournals]

you tell them you're pregnant / part 2

Isaac Lahey

He doesn't believe his ears. He makes you repeat it because he's not sure he heard you correctly.

"Isaac, I'm pregnant." You repeat.

You had known for a few days now. You were in a world of emotions already between your own emotions and wondering what Isaac would think when he found out.

There was no beating around the bush when you told him.

You weren't that far along to notice. If you hadn't missed your period, you probably would not have suspected anything yourself.

He blinked, turning his head as if he was taking in everything you were saying.

You stood in front of him, your hair still damp from the shower you had just taken.

"And here I thought you were about to tell me about something you were thinking in the shower." He chuckled nervously, feeling his hands starting to get clammy and he rubbed them around his pj bottoms. "Pregnant?"

You just nodded your head.

"Is this why you've been so quiet the past few days?" He met your eyes again.

You weren't sure what to say. You were terrified what was going through his mind.

"I can't say I'm not freaking out a little," He started before rising to his feet to lift your chin to look at him. He couldn't lie. He was freaking out between the trauma he was slowly recovering from with his father and trying to keep it from coming between the two of you. But right now he knew how much he needed you.

You look out the shaky breath you were holding in and he stroked his finger across your cheek. "But I'm here."

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, pulling you into his arms to hold you tight. "I'm here."

Theo Raeken

You knew it wasn't smart to be going behind your brother's back with Theo but you couldn't help yourself. And let's be honest Theo wasn't helping either.

"Theo, I need to tell you something." You mumbled against his lips as he started to pull his jacket down his arm.

It wasn't hard to hide it when everyone hated Theo, including you. You played the role so well.

At least that was the case.

"What is it?" His mouth left yours only to continue working kisses down your jaw and along your neck. You could barely think around him.

Your hands pushed against his chest, leaning away from him to pry his lips from your neck. He held onto your waist as he finally met your eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Liam was going to kill you.

You swallowed hard. Everything. "I'm pregnant, Theo."

You could feel how tense the air had grown around you in just a few second. Neither of you had said a word for a while, but his arms never moved from around you.

You moved to pull the two positive pregnancy tests from your back pocket to show him. His eyes followed your hand.

"I'm sorry. This isn't how I wanted things to go either, but I'm terrified. And Liam- Liam is going to-"

His name was like a trigger for the both of you. Considering Liam was your brother and about the only person who gave Theo any sort of a chance aside from you. "He's gonna have to get over it." He finally spoke.

"I don't want to ruin things for you. I know you've been trying to do better with everyone."

"I'm not worried about that." He admitted as his large hands caressed along your back comfortingly. "This matters more to me than trying to appease them." He nodded his head towards you.

Your cheeks blushed a deep crimson before hiding your face into his chest.

Peter Hale

You were curled up on the couch watching a movie with Peter after a long day of both of you helping Scott's pack.

A blanket was draped across both of you and a bowl of popcorn sitting on his lap.

You had known the exciting news for a week now and you couldn't wait any longer to share it with him.

Not that you had been trying to get pregnant, but it was a topic discussed a few times and you both weren't against being parents. You had been married two years now. It was nothing you were in a hurry to do, but now that it was happening. It felt like it was meant to be.

You reached a hand into the bowl to grab some popcorn, smiling to yourself as you kept your eyes on the tv screen.

"So what if I told you I may or may not be pregnant?" You tossed the popcorn in your mouth.

His fingers tracing against your back stilled and he lifted his head off the couch cushion to look at you.

"Are you?"

You struggled to bite back the grin on your lips, peeking over at find his soft eyes already on you.

"I am."

You watched his lips curl into a smile, knocking over the popcorn over to pull you into his lap. "Oh my god Peter. I was eating that."

His arms wrapped around your body to cuddle you on his lap. "I've been waiting for you to say something. I knew something was off." He kissed the corner of your mouth, glazing a large hand over your stomach.

"You knew? What?"

He taps his ear with a smirk. "You're married to a werewolf, baby. This is old news."

[nctnanajaemin]

my brother's bestfriend pairing: lee jeno x na!sister reader chapter five word count:1.8k warnings: mentions of nausea, vomiting but no detail, late/irregular period, pregnancy, reader has an anxiety attack. 

it's been about a month since jisung found out about you and jeno. that time in the car was the last time you and jeno slept together and he's barely spoken to you despite the both of you confessing your feelings.

you've been sick and exhausted the last couple of days, barely leaving your room. 

the guys are all downstairs yelling like usual. you pull the covers over your head, trying to drown out the noise so you can try and go back to sleep.

just when you are about to doze off, you hear a knock on the door.

"come in," you call out weakly, still keeping the covers over your head.

the door opens and shuts, the mattress dipping down next to you as someone sits down.

"you've been in here for days," chenle says, pulling the covers down to reveal your face. "what's going on?"

"i feel like crap."

chenle studies your face for a moment, his expression growing more concerned. "you look like crap." he reaches out to feel your forehead, checking for a fever.

"thanks a lot, chenle," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "just what every girl wants to hear."

"you don't seem to have a fever."

"i just feel weak and nauseous."

chenle hums in acknowledgment. "have you eaten anything today?"

"no. not yet."

chenle tsks, clearly not happy with your response. "you need to eat something. even if it's just toast or something light."

"i don't think i could keep anything down."

chenle sighs, running a hand through his hair. "so you have been throwing up?"

"yes."

"for how long?"

"about three days. i thought it was just a stomach bug or something, but i just can't shake it off."

chenle goes quiet for a moment, clearly lost in thought. "can i ask you something... personal?"

you nod, unsure of where this is going.

"when you and him hook up do you use a condom?"

"usually no."

"have you taken a pregnancy test?"

"no," you say quickly. "i told you, i thought it was just a stomach bug or something. plus, i'm on birth control, so the chances of that are slim."

"but not impossible," chenle points out. "when was the last time you had your period?"

"it's been a while, they are really irregular. "

"oh god. i think it would be worth taking a test just to rule it out."

you process chenle's words. the idea of being pregnant never even crossed your mind because you were on birth control. but now...

"can you get me a test?"

"yes," chenle says, standing up from the bed. "do you need anything else?"

you shake your head no, and he leaves the room.

your heart is racing, and you feel a mix of fear and anxiety. what if you're really pregnant? you haven't had an actual conversation with jeno in over a month. the only time he talks to you is if jaemin is in the room.

a few minutes later, chenle returns with a pregnancy test. he pulls the bag out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to you. "do you want me to stay or give you privacy?"

"stay please."

chenle sits down in the chair beside your bed as you take the box out of the bag and read through the instructions before going into the bathroom to take it.

you close the door behind you and take a deep breath. you follow the instructions, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the possibility of being pregnant.

after doing everything you have to, you place the test on the bathroom counter and go back into your room to wait the suggested three minutes.

"you okay?" chenle asks.

"i don't know."

chenle stands up and pulls you into a hug. "i'm here, okay? no matter what the result is, i'm here for you."

you cling to chenle, tears welling up in your eyes. "i'm scared, chenle."

"i know," chenle says, rubbing comforting circles on your back

after the longest three minutes of your life, the timer goes off. you pull away from chenle and walk back into the bathroom.

you pick up the pregnancy test and close your eyes, taking a deep breath before looking down.

when you open your eyes, two pink lines stare back at you.

you drop the test as if it's burned you, and it clatters against the floor.

"no, no, no," you whisper, feeling like your entire world is collapsing around you.

the room starts to spin, and your knees feel weak. you stumble backward and sit down on the edge of the bathtub, trying to catch your breath.

your breathing becomes more ragged and shallow, your chest feeling tight and constricted. you can hear your own heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears, drowning out all other sounds.

chenle appears in the doorway, looking worried. he takes one look at your face and knows everything.

he walks over to you and quickly kneels down in front of you. "hey, look at me."

you struggle to focus on him, your vision clouding with tears and dark spots.

chenle gently grips your shoulders, trying to get you to look him in the eye. "you need to breathe," he says firmly. "slow, deep breaths. follow me." he starts exaggerating his own breathing, inhaling and exhaling loudly, showing you how he wants you to copy him.

you try to mimic his breathing, but it's difficult because your chest still feels tight.

"just keep going, you're doing great."

it takes a few minutes, but slowly, your breathing starts to stabilize, and the chest tightness begins to ease.

you take a few more shuddering breathes before you finally feel like you can breathe normally again.

"th-that was the worst one I had in a while."

"are you okay?"

you nod weakly. "yeah."

chenle moves to sit down beside you. "do you want to talk about it?"

"it's just a lot to take in, and i don't know what to do."

chenle reaches out and takes your hand. "well, the first thing you need to do is talk to jeno."

"how am i supposed to talk to him. he's been avoiding me for over a month now."

chenle gives you a sympathetic look. "i'll force him to talk to you. most of the guys were napping when i came back from the store. do you want me to go down and get him?"

you hesitate for a moment before nodding your head. "yeah. i guess i should just get it over with now."

chenle gives your hand a comforting squeeze before getting up to go get jeno.

you stand up and grab the pregnancy test before walking back into your room.

you rehearse what you're going to say over and over again in your head while you wait, and eventually, there's a knock on your door.

the door slowly creaks open, and jeno steps into the room.

he shuts the door behind him and takes a step toward you. "chenle said you wanted to talk to me?"

"yeah, sit down. i have something important to tell you."

jeno looks at you for a moment before he sits down in the chair where chenle was previously. "what's going on? you don't look good."

"i've been feeling terrible for the past few days and i still haven't gotten my period."

"so what? you think you're pregnant?"

your hand trembles as you hold out the pregnancy test to him. he takes it and looks down at it for a moment, his eyes widening as he sees the two pink lines.

he looks back up at you. "how long have you known?"

"i just found out today. i took the test right before chenle came to get you."

jeno lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. he's silent for a few moments, clearly trying to process everything. "i knew i should have used a condom."

"is that seriously all you have to say?"

"well, what the hell do you expect me to say? we weren't even together, no one knew about us besides chenle and jisung, and jaemin is for sure going to fucking kill me when he finds out."

"i don't know. maybe something a little more sympathetic, considering the fact that i'm scared shitless right now and the only thing you're worried about is jaemin and the guys knowing about us."

"you think i'm not worried? i'm scared shitless too. i'm not ready to have a kid."

"you think i'm ready? i'm still in college. and how do I know that you aren't going to run away when things get complicated with the baby just like you did with me."

"i didn't run away. i just needed some space."

"some space," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "you've been ignoring me for over a month, jeno. i could barely get you to say more than two words to me."

"we had that talk, and then i was thinking and couldn't figure out what i wanted. I didn't want to end up hurting you."

you shake your head. "well, you hurt me anyway."

"i know, and i'm sorry. i've been feeling guilty for treating you like that, but now... now we have a whole baby to deal with."

the thought of the baby hits you both again.

"where do we even start?" you ask softly.

"first step is to see a doctor, get confirmation that you're actually pregnant and find out how far along you are."

the thought of going to the doctor makes your stomach churn, but you know it's necessary. "i'll make the appointment first thing in the morning."

"i'll go with you if you want me to."

"yeah. it'll be less terrifying if i have someone there. also i'm sorry for being such a bitch."

"you had every right to be upset. i've been a dick to you and i don't blame you for exploding like that."

"still, i shouldn't have been like that. my emotions are all over the place at the moment, and i took it out on you."

he walks over and sits down beside you, pulling you into a hug.

you sink into his embrace, burying your face in his shoulder. "i missed you."

"i missed you too."

--------------

the next morning rolls around and you were able to get into the doctors. you provided them with a urine sample and bloodwork and they told you that they would call later in the day with the results.

it's been a couple hours since then and now you are watching the guys play basketball in the driveway.

just as you are about to check your phone again, it buzzes with a call. you stand up and walk into the house.

"hello?

"hello, this is dr. kim. is this y/n?"

"yes?"

jeno walks into the living room and points towards jaemin's room. you walk in with him following, putting the call on speaker.

"i have the results of your urine sample and bloodwork. you are indeed pregnant and are about six weeks along. i'd like to schedule an appointment for you to come in for an ultrasound to get a more accurate estimate of your due date. would the same time and day work next week?"

"yes, same time next week is fine."

"okay, thank you. have a nice day and congratulations."

"thank you."

the doctor ends the call and you immediately hug jeno.

"we'll figure everything out. don't worry."

chapter four | chapter six

-----------------------

taglist: @nosungluv, @icesscoups, @sunghoonsgfreal, @camosh, @vltevgrdn, @minkyuncutie

join the taglist here!

[buckyshoneybunny]

The White Wolf (Part 5)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader   

W.C. 1564 

Warnings- Cursing, fluff, allusions to smut?? 

A/N- I am so sorry this took so long!!! I didn’t know how I wanted to end it. Yes, this is the end of this series, I may write little drabbles and oneshots for these two on how their future goes. But between classes, no motivation, and being tired I just haven’t had much time to write. I was gonna do this last week but I had a mysterious 4-day long headache that even migraine medicine couldn’t get rid of. Anyway I hope you enjoy!!! Any mistakes are mine. More stories will be coming soon!!  

Taglist- @blackbirdwitch22 @lesleurs @nelachu2423 @shadowzena43 @calwitch @laughterafter @sebastians-love @purplecolordeer

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Bucky discussed what your future would look like. You agreed to move in with him, as long as you could keep your job. He agreed begrudgingly.  

Bucky had been out with Steve doing whatever it is they did during the day, when your phone pinged with a notification. Period one-week late.  

Your blood ran cold. Were you, could you be, pregnant? A wave of nausea hits you. You and Bucky were still trying to settle into your new life together, you couldn’t possibly add a kid on top of that. Oh god, what would Bucky think? 

You grab your phone and keys, you run out the door, hoping Bucky wouldn’t smell you and come running. You made your way to Wanda’s cabin and pounded on the door. She lets you in, asking what’s wrong. 

“I think I might be pregnant,” you blurt out nervously.  

Her eyes widen. “Wow um, have you taken a test?” You shake your head. She offers to do some magic thingy to see if you’re pregnant. You are.  

“Oh god,” you groan and sit on her couch, face buried in your hands. “This can’t be happening.” 

She giggles. “What are you worried about? Everything will be fine, Y/N.” 

“Everything, Wanda! I’m still trying to come to terms with everything, I mean, I’m supposedly the mate to a half-man, half-werewolf! A month ago I didn’t even existed! And now I’m pregnant, this is ju-” 

“Y/N, calm down.” She sits next to you and rub your arm. “I know this must be scary, finding out what you thought was just fiction to be real. But Bucky will be there for you, he won’t let you go through this alone.”  

“But what if he gets bored of me? What if he’s not ready for this.” There’re tears in your eyes.  

“You’re his destined mate, Y/N. And the fact that you are pregnant with his child? He’ll be over the moon.”  

“But I’m not a werewolf, or an omega. Oh god, what will having a werewolf’s baby do to me?” You ask, panicked.  

“It doesn’t matter, you’re his mate, he’d never abandon you. I don’t know what it will do to your body, I’ve read that the side effects could be worse or you could have crazy different symptoms then what you’d have with a normal pregnancy.” You look even more worried.  

She thinks for a moment. “I haven’t tested it but I’ve been working on something.” She stands and walks to her desk. “If you and Bucky coat your teeth with this and claim each other, you should be able to feel the connection, and the more time goes on, the more your body will get omega features.”  

She hands you the bottle and touches your neck, something zaps you. 

“Ow! What the hell?” You ask, rubbing said spot. 

“There, you have the start of a scent gland, it could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days to fully develop.” She snickers at the dirty look you send her. 

“So....with the scent gland and this, potion? I’ll slowly become an omega.” 

She nods. “Yes, but you won’t be a werewolf. Unfortunately, I haven’t found any magic that could turn into one.” You nod.  

You chat with Wanda for a little while longer before heading home. When you see Bucky isn’t back yet you grab your wallet and head into town. You head to the local supermarket, you grab a little gift bag, a newborn onesie that says ‘I love my Daddy’, and some tissue paper. You also grab some chocolate, munching on it to help calm your nerves.  

You get home and set the little bag up, then start on dinner. You use the fresh herbs and veggies from the pack garden, they have just about everything in there, even sugar canes! 

You get the fireplace going and put on some soft music, hooking your phone up to the speakers Bucky installed when he learned you loved music.  

Bucky trudges up the steps, his shoulders aching. He and the guys had been working on clearing land, they wanted to make their own shops and whatnot, to limit having to go into town. He leaves his muddy boots outside, not wanting to track it into the house.  

He walks in and is hit with the scent of a home cooked meal and you. He sighs at the warmth the fireplace is giving off and smiles when he hears you humming to the music. He stands there and watches you for a moment before coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You jump but relax when you realize it’s him. He buries his face into your neck and freezes.  

“Babydoll?” He asks, his voice gravelly. 

You turn in his arms to face him. “Yes?” You ask nervously.  

“What is this?” He cups the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the spot in question.  

“A scent gland, Wanda gave me it. It’s surprise 1 of 3.”  

His face is unreadable for a moment before a groan rumbles through his chest and he leans down to nose at the scent gland. He nips it, causing you to shiver. 

“Tell me,” he licks your ear before nibbling on it. “Are you one of the surprises?” 

“No,” you giggle. “But I can be an add-on.” 

He hums and presses his nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I love you,” he says softly. 

At your whispered ‘I love you too’ he feels warmth spread through his chest. He nudges your nose with his. 

“When will I get these other surprises?” 

“After dinner.”  

He hums and gives you a loving kiss. He showers while you finish dinner.  

As you set the table, he comes out in those grey sweatpants you love so much hung low on his hips. His already half-hard cock visible, making it clear he has no underwear on. He’s shirtless, displaying those washboard abs you love so much. 

You both eat dinner in silence, he can sense you’re nervous. You both clean the dishes, while he finishes wiping the counters down you grab the gift bag.  

You sit on the couch and hand him the bag. He blindly reaches in and pulls out the potion first. 

“What’s this?” His brows furrow in confusion. 

“It’s a potion. Wanda said to both coat our teeth when we claim each other, it’ll help me feel the bond and feel it lock in place. I’d be one step closer to an actual omega and connected to you.”  

His eyes shine with excitement and lust. “You’d want to be an omega?” You can hear the joy in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “But I won’t become a werewolf.” He deflates a little but nods, the thought of running through the woods in y'all's wolf together running through his mind. 

“What made you want to become an omega?” 

“Well, I wanted to feel the connection that you’ll feel, feel even closer to you. Plus, it’ll also help my body with what’s to come.” He gives you a confused look and you nod to the bag. He pulls out the onesie. As he reads it, his heart stops and eyes widen.  

“Babydoll....are you.... pregnant?” 

You nod. “I know we haven’t been together long and we’re still adjusting. Bu-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss. He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m going to be a dad?” His steel blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. 

You cup his stubbly cheeks. “You’re going to be a dad, Bucky,” you whisper. Your own eyes glisten with tears.  

He laughs and hugs you. His heart swells with pride. You, his mate, is going to have his pups. 

He makes love to you that night, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He gushes excitedly to Steve the next day and rubs the news into Sams face. Everyone congratulates you over a barbeque. Bucky already has plans of how he wants to expand the cabin, add on for your future family. You’re already planning on how you want to decorate the nursery. 

Seven months later..... 

You sit in the rocking chair in your new nursery. You watch your husband with a fond smile as he puts the crib together, insisting he wanted to hand make everything. The pile of gifts from your baby shower sits in the corner, ready to be put away.  

You can feel Bucky’s excitement, the permanent bite mark on both yours and Bucky’s neck sealing the bond. You rub your swollen belly, the ring on your finger shines in the sunlight that streams through the window. 

You couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl, Winfred, Winnie for short, after Bucky’s mother. He talks about her all the time; you know he misses her and the fact you’re naming you guys first daughter after her means the world to him. You knew that’s what you wanted to name her the minute he said her name, he cried when you told him. 

As you rock and listen to the music playing softly in the background, you think of how grateful you are you went into the forest, choosing to not listen to the locals warnings.  

You may not know what the future hold next, but you do know one thing, you couldn’t wait to find out. 

[mariposa-writes]

Tears of Joy

Pairing: Captain John Price x wife!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Overview: John thinks you're pregnant, you don't agree.

CW: infertility, self blame, angst to fluff, john being an amazing husband

Author's Note: Please repost, comment, and like. It means the world to me! Let me know what you think and if there are any corrections i need to make. It's like 3am so I'm sure I messed up somewhere lol

Part 2

Price held your hair back, hand rubbing your back as you threw up in the toilet.  This was the third morning in a row that you’d woken up and ran straight to the bathroom. After you’d brushed your teeth and took a shower you meet your husband John in the kitchen.

You scrunched your nose, “What’s that smell?” You asked, trying to figure out what John was cooking.

“Eggs and bacon.” He said as he placed a plate in front of you. You looked at it with uncertainty, before pushing it away from you. “Not hungry, sorry.” You mumbled, not wanting to hurt John’s feelings after he made you breakfast.

Truthfully the thought of eating right now made you nauseous. Which was weird considering you loved eggs and bacon. Actually you loved all things breakfast, you could eat breakfast for every meal.

It was one of the things John loved about you. “Do you want me to make you something else?” John asked, worry apparent in his eyes.

You could always figure out how John was feeling just by looking at his eyes. He showed more than he realized, and after being married for three years it was easy to read him.

You sighed, shacking your head no. “I think I’m just gonna go lay down, I’m still not feeling well.” You got up from the table, placing a kiss on John’s cheek before heading for your shared bedroom.

John watched you retreat to your room. He was starting to get more worried by the day. He found it odd that you were sick, considering that you never got sick. He’d known you for 5 years and only once had you come down with the flu and even then you pushed through, not letting it stop you. Until he basically forced you to rest and give your body time to recover.

He ran a hand down his face, not wanting to think about what could be wrong. After he cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher he went to lay down with you. 

You were curled up in bed, as he climbed in next to you. Molding his body to yours, and pulling you close. His arm around your stomach. You nestled into him even more, just wanting to be close to your husband.

He traced patterns into your arm as you worked on falling asleep. “Babe?” He questioned unsure if you were asleep.

You hummed, letting him know that you were listening. “Do you think you could be pregnant?” He was hesitant to bring up the question, but it was eating away at him as he laid there with you.

“No.” You answered, already wanting the conversation to be over. You should’ve pretended to be asleep.

“When was the last time you had your period.”

You shrugged your shoulders, ever since you were a teen your period had been irregular. Your gyno had warned you that it might mess with your fertility, making it harder to have kids in the future. You’d warned John when you’d gotten together and again when things got more serious.

He told you that it didn’t matter as long as he had you. 

Despite all that it didn’t make it any easier, every time you had to look at a negative pregnancy test. You knew John wanted and family and so did you and no matter how much John reassured you that it wasn’t your fault and he was fine with it just being the two of you it didn’t help lessen the sting. 

After a while John started to notice the toll it was taking on you. After every negative you seemed to lose more and more of the light that shined in your eyes. He hated seeing how you seemed to be deteriorating no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

Eventually the two of you stopped buying pregnancy tests and dropped the subject all together. It’d been almost a year since you last took a test and John noticed how you seemed lighter without the subject hanging over you head.

“What if you just take one test?” John suggested. You heaved out a breath throwing the covers off of you.

“No, nothings going to change. It’s going to be negative.” He could tell you were growing irritated. He could tell you just wanted to drop the subject, but something about this time felt different. He had hope which was something he hadn’t had in a quite some time.

“Where are you going?” He asked, getting up to follow.

“A walk.” You said as you slipped on your shoes and a hoodie. “Don’t follow me.” You said before slamming the front door shut. 

You knew it wasn’t fair to John, but you hadn’t thought about having a child in a long time. You’d given up on the idea. You knew it was just as hard for John, but he wasn’t the one that had to feel like a failure every time a test came back negative. 

He never blamed you, but it didn’t matter. You blamed yourself and that was enough. Even the doctors said everything was fine, when John insisted on getting his sperm count checked. 

You were the problem, you were the reason you would never have a family.

John should’ve married someone that could’ve given him children, not you. You were standing in the way of his dreams.

These were the thoughts that made it difficult to get through the day. You felt bad for being rude to John, but sometimes it was easier to avoid the problem than confront it head on. 

You finally returned to the house once it started to drizzle. John was waiting on the porch swing, making sure you got back okay. 

He didn’t say anything as you entered the house, deciding to stay put and give you your space. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that sometimes you liked to deal with stuff on your own and when you were ready you would come to him.

A few minutes later the door was opening. You handed him a container with yellow liquid in it. “Here.” You handed him the container.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but if it’s negative don’t tell me and don’t bring the test in the house and after this I don’t want you to bring it up again. I’m sorry for being rude earlier, but it just hurts to much.” He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into his chest.

“Thank you baby, I love you no matter what.” He kissed you, “You know that right?”

“I know, I love you too. Now go.” You said ushering him off the porch. As much as you tried not to get your hopes up, you secretly hoped he’d tell you the results. You hoped he’d bring the test into the house and you hoped he��d get to bring up the subject again.

You were in the living room, tidying up while trying to keep your mind busy when John returned. You didn’t even have time to process that he was home before he was picking you up and spinning you in a circle.

He had the biggest smile on his face as he kissed you. Butterflies appeared in your stomach, you didn’t even have to ask if the test was positive. You could tell by his reaction, the whole world would be able to tell if they were watching the two of you. After what felt like hours he set you down, his arms still holding you close to him.

“It was positive.” He beamed, as he stared down at you. The smile he had on his face might’ve beat the one he had on your wedding day. You didn’t even have time to respond, before his lips were on yours again.

You hadn’t felt this happy in such a long time and it was like this weight was instantly lifted off your chest. He kissed you over and over again, before breaking away. “Oh my god, I have to tell the team!” He was so giddy that it made you want to cry.

The pure joy radiating off of him, brought tears to your eyes. “Wait, why are you crying?” He asked, instantly becoming worried. He wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t know, I’m not sad. I’m happy, so happy.” This time you kissed him, bring him down to your level. You pulled back, “They’re tears of joy.” You laughed.

This right here was everything you ever wanted.

[astraysimp]

Personal Sunshine

Hi bubbies! It is once again my favorite Friday! ……..9mitm Friday! Sadly, this is the second to last chapter. But, it is our sunshine Lixie’s time to shine! @straykeedz we’re almost done 🥺

Summary: you and lixie have only been dating for 4 months, but what happens when a bun in the oven throws a fork in the road of your new relationship?

Warnings: new!relationship trope, dad!felixie and baby bokkie, MARSHMALLOW FLUFF, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of failed condom, pet names, fem!reader, brief talks of periods.

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

You and Felix were still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship.Cuddling, holding hands, spending all your spare time together. Time with Felix was time well spent, in your eyes. No matter what you were doing; whether it be watching movies, playing video games, going to a boba cafe, watching Felix play video games. As long as you were with Felix, you were happy and at peace. So, you two were just soaking up the joys of your new relationship. However, you weren’t necessarily expecting a bun in the oven, 4 months into your relationship.

The day you and Felix found out was forever engraved into your mind. Late. You were 5 days late. And that had never happened to you. Sure, you had been so stressed that a period skipped here and there. But, that was rare, only happening once in a blue moon. You, now, especially wouldn’t be stressed when you had the personification and human embodiment of sunshine by your side. 

 Your periods always came like clockwork, ever since you had started getting them. The second week of every month. It was even marked in your calendar with a red marker, even though you knew it came at the same time. So, there you and Felix were; sitting in the bathroom of his apartment, a little white stick on the counter, both of you glad in your matching pajamas.

They had become your favorite pajamas. A soft pink set that Felix had gifted to you for your second date. The date was a simple movie night at his apartment. The pajamas matched his– except his were a soft blue. Made from a soft cotton, the shirt was a button up with a heart shaped breast pocket, littered with small hearts all over. The pants are made from the same material, same heart pattern and cute cuffed ankles. And his were  the same. “Got these for us,” he giggled out, handing you the set when you had entered his apartment, but not without placing a kiss to your lips. “I saw them at the store and thought they were cute. So, I got us a pair,” he added with a pink fluff to his cheeks and ears.

“Lixie pixie? Pixie poo, What does the test say?”

You were sitting on the closed toilet seat, wringing your fingers nervously. A habit of yours that he had picked up on, pretty quickly. Positive? Negative? These were the longest 5 minutes of your life.

Nervous. Scared. Confused. Perplexed. You felt all the emotions surge through your body, like a rampant white water river courses through its stream when you heard the words pass through his plump heart-shaped lips.

“Pregnant. 3-5 days…..but we-we used a condom,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the pregnancy test. And boy, were those lines clear as day. It was unmistakably positive. 

“Lixie poo…….condoms aren’t 100% effective, pixie poo. We couldn’t have expected it planned this to happen, honey bear.” You slipped out, your hands cupping his cheeks. His eyes were full of uncertainty.  Were you expecting this? No, but you were happy to be experiencing it with him. Placing a kiss to his lips, you made sure he could feel the love in your kiss. “We’ll be okay, yeah?”

You had seen Felix play with babies before, and he with you. So, naturally you both had thought of what life with a baby would be like together. Sure, you didn’t expect to find yourself with a bun in the oven…..but it was still exciting. 

Felix has always been the ideal partner, in any and all imaginable ways. So, as your pregnancy progressed and your body changed, he was there. It seemed to come to him so naturally, as if he was always meant to be a dad—to your baby. He rubbed your aching back, massaged your sore ankles, cooked all your cravings(no matter how absurd they sounded) and did it all with a love filled smile on his face and stars in his eyes.

Each trimester brought its own challenges. Morning sickness, cravings, swelling body, fatigue, your growing bump. But, your sweet Lixie poo was so sweet and caring through the entire 9 months. He  even planned your baby shower. The color theme being soft cream and pastel yellow– the same colors that would decorate Su-Jin’s nursery.

The baby shower was amazing, he made it such a cozy environment. There was balloons, chicken plushies, soft blankets and  decorations everywhere. Felix set up all the catering, making sure there were things to suit everyone’s taste. The games? All planned and picked by Felix. There was a special scratch card that revealed the gender of baby Lee, baby themed bingo, see who could change a diaper the fastest, nursery rhyme word unscramble– and of course there were prizes. Yes, Felix picked the prizes out,too. Making each goodie bag, consisting of an alcohol shooter, glow up toy pacifier, candies and mini ultrasound pictures of your baby. The desserts? That was his forte. Of course, there was a cake–bbokari shaped with a bib on– vanilla flavored with whipped buttercream. Obviously, there was a tray of his signature brownies, cut into baby themed shapes– pacifiers, diapers, teddy bears– there was cookies, in a few flavors.  

Heck, he was amazing— no, he was perfect— through your birth,too. He cried when you cried, held your hands, pressed cool cloths to your forehead, fed you ice chips. Felix made you feel calm, even though he may have been panicking himself. “You’re doing so well, honey bear.” He whispered countless times, as he pushed hair off of your damp forehead. For him, cutting the umbilical cord was the best part, seeing you bring a new life into this world.

They say that the eye of a hurricane is calm, even though a storm rages on around it. Felix was your eye, in the hurricane that was giving birth. He brought you a sense of peace, even if there were doctors and nurses surrounding you. The nurse telling you to push, other nurses scrambling around to have materials ready for when  Su-Jin arrived into the world. None of it mattered as soon as you looked into Felix’s eyes. One soft smile and look at his chocolate brown eyes and you could feel yourself calming. The breath you didn’t know you were holding releasing itself from the confines of your chest.

A new life that you and Felix made through love. Baby Lee was a chubby 8.2 pounds— equipped with the cutest little rolls— , born with ebony locks, big round dark brown boba eyes , heart shaped lips and freckles. Felix cried when he held Su-Jin for the first time, cradling the small bundle in his arms as he sat shirtless– knowing how important skin to skin was for a newborn. “Hi, I’m your daddy, bokkie. It���s so nice to meet you. Me and your mommy have been waiting so long.” He whispered, gently lifting the baby to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

Su-Jin’s eyes had fluttered open, taking in the new world around him before landing back on Felix. Felix smiled, his eyes looking at the baby who mirrored him, a tiny smile on his face. “My Su-Jin.”

So, just imagine a tiny felix and bang….that’s baby bokkie for you. Yes, you and Felix called him baby bokkie— but his name was Su-Jin. Su meaning long life and Jin meaning precious or rare.

Man, he was precious,too. That baby was more cuddly than his daddy, and Felix was cuddly. Baby bokkie cried when out of your or Felix’s arms, only at peace when being cuddled, finding solace and tranquility in the loving embrace of his parents. Not only was he cuddly, but he wasn’t fussy (unless he wasn’t being cuddled). The cutest thing was his giggle, as it matched Felix’s giggle. He was a perfect baby–calm,slept through the night, angelic. An angel on your,your angel.

Now, he is 7 months old and still as giggly as ever. You and Felix were enjoying doing some tummy time with Su-Jin, while on a casual Tuesday afternoon. And let me tell you, that baby loved his tummy time. You were in the kitchen, preparing a light snack for you and Felix and a bottle of milk for Su-Jin. 

Humming to yourself, you smiled as you could hear Felix cooing to his little Su-Jin. “Hiii, angel boy. Are you enjoying tummy time?” Su-Jin only giggled and wriggled his chubby arms and legs around, loud squeals and giggles escaping his mouth. Felix smiled, covering his face with his hands. “Peek a boo!” He laughed, smiling brightly as Su-Jin giggled and tried looking around Felix's hands for his daddy. “Here I am, baby!” Felix smiled, his eyes forming crescent shapes as he uncovered his face with his hands, causing more matching giggles to fall from both Su-Jin and Felix’s lips.

He was laying on the floor, his chunky body clad in the cutest chicken onesie-courtesy of Felix, of course. Felix was laying on the floor in front of Su-Jin, holding a toy out in front of Su-Jin—the toy in question being a plush bbokari. “Jinnie, who is that? Is that bbokari?” He asked, moving the plushie’s arms to wave at his little one. “Hi, Jinnie. it’s me,bbokari!” The sight of his dearest plushie sending a rush of happy squeals through his system.

Su-Jin looooooved his bbokari. Felix had gifted it to him when he was born and now Su-Jin sleeps with it every night, without fail.Wherever Su-Jin went, bbokari went with him. The yellow plush toy clutched in his small arms, as he slept through the night, with soft white noise playing in the background. 

Angelic little high pitched Su-Jin giggles escaped through the air, as his small chubby hands made grabby gestures at the toy. “Do you want bbokari, my little bokkie?” Felix asked, as you moved to sit criss-cross applesauce, next to Felix. Sensing his mama’s presence, Su-Jin’s eyes lit up. He always knew when you were there, his mama senses going off in his little body.

You smiled and leaned forward to smatter an array of kisses to his chubby cheeks,setting his bottle down on the coffee table.. “Hi! Hi my boy!” You giggled, as he kicked his little legs, as a showing of glee and excitement. He had started crawling not too long ago, and soon enough his little legs and arms were carrying himself to you. Giggling, he plonked his little body onto your lap.

Smiling, you picked him up, holding him in front of your face. “Hi Jinnie. Hi my bokkie, awwww, look at you! You’re so cute!” You exclaimed, holding his little body close to yours, as he giggled and placed his hands against your cheeks. “Mommy has a bottle for you, bokkie. Do you want your baba, hm?” You smiled, rocking the baby on your lap.

Leaning forward, you grabbed the bottle, testing the temperature of the milk on your wrist. Not too warm, not too cold, just right. “Come here, pumpkin,” you cooed. Turning Su-Jin on your lap, you laid him across your chest, so he was being cradled. Tucking him against your chest, you smiled as he looked up at you, one of his small hands holding onto your shirt. “Here you go, my angel,” you whispered as you slipped the nipple of the bottle into his mouth, letting him drink.

Placing a kiss to your knee, Felix sat up to be level with you and pressed an open mouthed kiss to your  cheek. “Hi honey bear,” he whispered, resting his cheek against your shoulder as he watched Su-Jin drink.“Hi pixie poo,” You sighed out in return, your eyes looking at each other  softly. Placing a soft kiss to his cheek, you smiled. “We made a cutie, huh, lixie?” You smiled, as Su-Jin’s eyes started fluttering shut .

Setting the now empty bottle down, you smiled as the grip Su-Jin had on your shirt tightened, as his eyes closed. You gently patted his back, “sleepy baby, my sleepy boy.” You cooed, cradling him to your chest. Felix leaned over noticing how Su-Jin had fallen asleep, gripping your shirt with his cheek pressed against your shirt. “Angel boy is all pooped, huh?” Felix giggled, as he gently helped you stand up, walking the familiar path to Su-Jin’s nursery.. “Yeah, suppose we should put him down for his nap, lixie.” You said, rocking the sleeping baby. “Probably, it’s tiring being so cute.” He nodded in agreement. 

You loved his nursery, picking out the color scheme and decor, to  picking out the furniture. The walls painted a soft cream color, little pops of pastel yellow littering the room.  Su-Jin’s crib was cream colored wood, a soft mattress lying inside with cream and yellowed blankets tucked inside. Bbokari was lying in the crib, usually, unless he was with Su-Jin. Which was most of the time. You had a plush cream colored swiveling chair with a matching ottoman, a chair you and Felix had fallen asleep on many times, as you watched the sleeping babe. In the corner was a bookshelf, stocked full of baby books, small plushies. Most important, was his framed birth certificate and picture of you. Felix and Su-jin. Those sat on the middle shelf, where they were proudly on display. His nursery was warm, comforting and emanated love.

Holding a sleeping Su-Jin, you walked to his nursery with Felix following closely behind you. “Here we go, my angel boy,”Felix cooed,softly pushing the door open as you walked to his crib. “Nap time, my prince.” You whispered, noticing that he had completely fallen asleep. “Sssh, shhh. There we go, sweetheart,” You smiled, gently laying him in his crib, settling his bbokari plush in his arms.

He looked at peace. His small face and mind free of any worries? You suppose being a baby didn’t really have many worries, though. Just the next feeding time, when mama or papa would give you more cuddles. It seemed to be a peaceful time for Su-Jin. Just generally, he was a calm baby,though.

Funnily enough, when you gave birth the doctors were worried that he wasn’t crying. He was quiet, maybe a little too quiet. But, very very cute and chunky. Neonatal nurses checked him to be sure that everything was okay— and everything was. “Oh, I guess he’s just a quiet little bun.” The nurse told you, giggling when he seemed to grow more calm and serene in your arms. 

“Night night, my sweet pea,” You whispered, grazing your finger over his cheek, after pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well, my bokkie.”  Felix whispered, watching as his son slept. All the while, you were switching his small sun shaped night light on— a sun because he was your sunshine, along with Felix.

Ever so quietly, you made your way to the door, switching the light off. Turning to face Felix, you wrapped your arms around his waist. “I can’t believe we made him,” Felix whispered into your hair. Nodding against his chest,your fingertips traced soft shapes over the expanse of his back, that was covered in a soft cotton pajama shirt. “I know, but…he’s all ours, forever.” You smiled, peeking up at him through your eyelashes.

Locking eyes, you held a steady eye contact. Both of your eyes holding nothing but pure unadulterated love and adoration, for not only one another but for Su-Jin. Felix’s eyes were glimmering, stars dancing along his chocolate brown irises– akin to the freckles that danced along his cheeks.

You had seen that look in his eyes before, the first time being when he held Su-Jin for the first time. It was a level of love, different to the lovestruck eyes he gave you. It was a parental love. The kind of loving eyes your parents gave you, his parents gave him. There was no way to verbalize the look, it just held a different feeling of love. A love so pure, so unfiltered, so divinely strong that it brought tears to your eyes.

Yes, Felix always looked at you with love in his eyes. And, you did to him, as well. But the difference between the romantic love eyes  and parental love eyes was incomprehensible. Neither you or Felix were able to vocalize it. It was a feeling, a sense of deeper love, it was warm, comforting. The best you could compare it to was the feeling of wrapping a warm blanket– fresh from the dryer– around your body on a cold night or a hug from your loved ones. The warmth and feeling of a profound love  encompassed your being, surrounding you completely, pausing the world around you for that moment. 

Holding his hand in yours, you made your way back to the living room, where you pulled him to sit next to you on the couch. You and Felix had only been together for 1 year and 8 months–4 months before finding out you were pregnant, 9 months of you carrying baby Su-Jin and 7 months of being parents. But, you knew in your mind, your heart, your soul that you and Felix was the one, he was it for you. And, he felt the same. Every fiber of your being, every atom in your body told you that he was your life partner, your soulmate, your safety.

Looking into his eyes, you smiled. “Where do you see us in 5 years, lixie?” A conversation you had before, knowing you;d still be with one another. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, nestling his cheek on the top of your hair. “You know where I see us,” he giggled, his hand patting your outer thigh. “Still, I wanna know.” You giggled back.

Did you know? Yes. But, you loved hearing him tell you anyway. 

Chuckling, he took your hand in his, his thumb grazing your ring finger. “ I see us married, with another kid or maybe two more . In our own house, the color scheme is cream and soft colors. Our house is cozy, welcoming, loving, just like you. When you walk in, it smells like freshly baked brownies–made by yours truly. Su-Jin and his sibling or siblings running around while you’re playing with them. A dog running around– a golden retriever or king charles cavalier spaniel somewhere around the house.” He relayed to you, as you looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 

“No matter how many times you tell me, it never gets old,” you whispered. Cupping your cheek, he ran his thumb under your eyes, wiping your tears. “My sunshine, our relationship may have been new and just starting, but my love for you will never get old. Even when we’re old and wrinkly, my love for you will be as brightly burning as the day we met.”

Little did you know, he already bought the ring and it was tucked away in his nightstand

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♡Please don’t steal, copy, edit, translate, repost (on any platform), plagiarize, paraphrase or in anyway claim my works♡ AStraySimp est 2023♡

🏷️ @mellhwang ; @autumn583 ; @hyunsvngs ; @hotchnrz ; @galamxy ; @ebbaskz ; @turtledove824 ; @galaxycatdrawz ; @fawnpeaks ; @bigsobs4skz ; @143lix ; @bangchans-babygirlgirl ; @aaasia111 ; @reid-deiri ; @tenshimara ; @dancerachaslut ; @peachygirlsthings ; @saturnandgold ; @justscrollinthrough ; @jesuisstay ; @shinywolfbears ; @lewoh-ot8-wh0re ; @alnex05 ; @mixtape-racha ; @shujohajohaminnie ; @heartheartisa ; @skzstaykatsy ; @manuosorioh ; @whosanaanyway ; @cvntywonyo ; @notastraykid ; @jinnie-ret♡

[alwaysonf1]

oopsy?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: Canadian NHL team shit talking. Middle fingers.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

As much as Iman doesn’t mind and is one hundred percent on board for all the filming and hanging out with the drivers, she's happy that it’s not an every day of the week and every class kind of thing. There’s a level of mental capacity it takes to deal with the people around her while doing this that she can’t maintain every day.

But today isn’t one of those days. Today they’re at a track and that’s one of her favorite places to be no matter where it is.

NOLA Motorsports Park hasn’t seen any real IndyCar action since twenty fifteen, but it’s still a place that some teams use when they want to test and practice in a place where it wouldn’t really be expected. Though there were times they did open the public stuff and in about a month there would be a McLaren sponsored karting tournament for kids already in and new to the world of motorsport. 

Iman looks forward to that day because she enjoys helping the kids with their races and even more so helping them understand how their karts work. She was even going to be in charge of a more informational segment that she knows is going to be boring as hell, but hopefully insightful for kids and their parents.

The sport can be hard enough getting into it and she wanted to make it easier for them. Even if she felt a little like a fraud speaking as her path hasn’t really been from the ground up like half the kids there.

But at the moment what she’s most happy about is that she isn’t the one making the drive to the track. The place is over an hour from her apartment and though it rarely feels that long it’s nice to have someone else to do it. 

Though she could do without being sandwiched between her brother and her new frenemy, Lance.

“It’s a Canadian sport. And they are original, how could you dislike them? They have more championships than Seattle has in years playing. I mean I like them too, but come on, Iman.”

The entire rant is funny and it’s the same argument they’ve had twice now after he found out that she enjoys hockey. They’ve talked a little about football too, but the moment she enacted her duty of humbling a Canadian it’s been a back and forth of him being flustered over her dislike of almost all the Canadian teams in the NHL. Most of it being due to her disdain for certain players - most of which for petty reasons and some because they’re assholes.

She reaches out and pats his leg, giving him a soft and kind look that’s only playfully condescending.

“How about we pick this back up when a Canadian team breaks their thirty year streak of not winning the Stanley Cup. Something multiple players in Seattle have done in that time period.”

“You went there?”

“I went there.”

Lance huffs and puffs. He tries to say something, but every time his mouth opens he closes it again. If I didn’t notice the way he wanted to laugh and the resignation in his expression I would fear I’d genuinely offended him, but I know I hadn’t. Poor man knew it was the truth, even if it was a painful one.

“It’s their year.”

“Who’s year?”

He sighs. “I don’t know. One of them.”

“Leafs?”

At that he makes a face that can only be read as disgust.

“You’re mad at me and you don’t even like them.”

“I’m obligated.”

“I get it.”

Because she does. That conditionally and sometimes fake patriotism got the best of her too.

She opens her mouth to bring them back to common ground by shitting on Vegas, but for the tenth time there’s a pull at some strands of hair at the back of her head. Eyes narrowed she turns her head to look at her brother. Who doesn’t even bother to look away or remove his hand.

“Why?”

Lewis shrugs.

Rolling her eyes she reaches up and pulls on one of his braids, earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t pull my hair,” he says.

“Then don’t pull mine.”

And he does it again.

Like the child she sometimes is, she goes to retaliate, but the van rolls to a stop and she settles for glaring at him.

“Ha.”

“Oh, shut up.”

With the last word she follows the others out of the van, “accidentally” kicking Lewis on her way out. By the time he’s out and able to get her back she’s already standing at the front of everyone barely suppressing a gleeful smile. He joins the group and flips her off in a covert way and she does the same.

Not them doing that on the low mattered since the cameras weren’t focused on the group yet. Every camera person is huddled together talking amongst themselves.

“Is that a McLaren indycar?” Alex asks.

“Sure is.”

Daniel raises his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Are we going to get in it?” 

“Maybe.”

That seems to shock everyone, but there is some giddiness to it. One would think that a group of men who raced for a living and who would be back to doing it in about a week wouldn’t be so eager to get into a car. But then again that’s the driving force of why some of them do it for a living.

Before anyone can say anything else Anne walks up and the camera surrounds them. Anne gestures to Iman and she takes her cue.

Iman hitches her thumb backward. “This is where I do a lot of my internship work during the school year. Though it’s not often used for pro-racing, it is used for testing. And that’s what McLaren’s Indycar team is doing here for the next month or so. And today you’ll be helping me with work. 

“All of you know there is some level of secrecy going on with this stuff, but everything you see and hear today will be things that are known to the public or that no one cares about anyone else knowing. Plus, this testing is for this past season's car, not the coming one.

“We’re going to get a tour of the place and then get to work. Any questions before we get things going?”

The group is quiet and after a few seconds Iman nods and then turns. She leads the group up to the pit lane where McLaren mechanics await them. There are greetings and then another explanation of what they’re doing there. Then they’re led off on a tour of the spaces. They field questions from the drivers and to round out the tour they end up back in front of where they started.

“Okay, so we’re trying to figure out what went wrong with this engine during one of the races this season. We had to replace the whole thing and it didn’t become a priority to take it apart and find out, so that’s what we’re doing now to see if there’s anything we need to change in the future,” the head mechanic says.

He looks around at everyone in the way one does when ensuring that they have a listening audience.

“Okay, so you’ll see what Iman and our team do to figure that out. I know this could be more exciting, but we decided this is a good glimpse to really show what she does and in a way we’re comfortable showing. You’ll pair off and our people will explain what’s going on. Feel free to ask questions and point out any oddities you see, we need all the eyes on this that we can get. It’s all preliminary, so they won’t be at it for long and then that’s where the fun begins.”

He shares a mischievous smile with Iman and by the looks of everyone it makes them a bit unsettled.

“What does that mean?” Lance asks.

Iman shrugs. “You’ll see. Now go get changed.”

They do what she says even though she could see the questions they want to ask. 

About ten minutes later everyone returns in coveralls. Iman is already dressed in the clothes she works in so she’s sitting on a rolling chair when they return.

“Ready?” she asks.

They nod.

“Okay, I’m not going to treat this like a class room so everyone in groups of two and then you’ll be with one of us.”

Much like all Iman’s years of school, all the drivers freeze. Then they all scramble toward their chosen person. Despite the small group - or because of how small it was - some end up losing out. It takes all of her not to burst into laughter when Carlos goes for Charles and Lewis snatches up the Monégasque. Which means Carlos is with Daniel. The man pouts while Daniel grins ear to ear, but you could tell it was more playful. 

Lewis and Charles laugh at their antics and Iman knows that those two groups are going to be a chaotic mess.

And because she’s so busy holding back giggles at their nonsense, she misses the chance to grab a group that doesn’t contain her brother. She knows that part of this whole thing is wanting them to be together, but she would be a bad little sister if she didn’t act indignant about it.

“I guess I’m stuck with you too,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Lewis grins. “Yes, you are. You’ll love it. Won’t she Charles?”

Both men turn their heads to face each other and they share similar grins. Then they turn to her and she sees devious intentions in their eyes. Iman feels like they’re plotting against her and she doesn’t like that.

“Of course. We are a delight,” Charles says.

Now she really knows they’re going to be a handful. Though she hopes putting them to work will help.

“Sure, you will be. How about using that delightfulness to help me disassemble this.”

She gestures to the problem engine. She’s to take care of that one while the others look at two others. Both of them cling to their little creep show and then finally nod and help her disassemble the thing. Lewis is a little competent in it because she always talked about it and forced him to learn, but Charles is a little surprising to her. But it’s nice to only have to give a little guidance and get to focus on her work.

Of course she gets so into it that she forgets that she should probably talk to them a little after Charles clears his throat. By the sounds of it he’d been trying to get her attention for a little while.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“You work for McLaren?” he asks.

“This year.”

“Only this year? They seem very okay with this for such a short time.”

“Once before, but for a shorter amount of time then. I’ve done about four internships, two of them with them. One in Nascar and another for a different IndyCar team.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. How do you find the time?”

“I don’t. Just chaos twenty-four seven.” She laughs. “But to be fair, the first IndyCar was when I was a senior in high school. They were doing a program for kids of that age to get them interested and I was a test subject. Since my mother worked for them it was more likely they’d get better feedback versus the kids who might be scared saying anything could get them blacklisted.”

“Really?”

Iman smiles. “Really. There weren’t many issues and nothing major though, so it was fine.”

“No, I mean in high school?”

“Yup. It’s what happens when you tell the people in your life what you want to do for a living and they have the connections. The moment my mom knew I was serious she had me applying everywhere and brought me in to shadow her and anyone else she could have agree. I was annoying, but good enough that they didn’t tell her to stop.”

Talking with Charles is easy and the conversation is one that helps her focus on the task of disassembling the unnecessarily greasy mess that is her side of the engine. Something is peaceful about it too. Nice even.

When she looks up and past Charles to her brother Iman sees a weird expression on Lewis' face. It’s one he wears when he knows something or thinks he knows something and a weird smile. She wants to question it, but thinks better of it. Knowing Lewis it will irritate her and there is a part of her brain that is sure she knows what that look is for and she refuses to address it.

Not stepping into that shit show. Nope.

“Okay, what happened?” Lewis asks.

“It stopped the car completely and then when we went to check it there was a small-ish fire.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was the furthest from the fire, Lew.”

There’s some grumbling, but his expression and body language mellows out. Not much though. For some reason Iman looks to Charles for support, but instead she’s on the receiving end of a look that gives off mild anger and a silver of disappointment. Of course she doesn’t know Charles well enough for her to fully understand his expressions, but she’s familiar with the reactions of siblings.

Iman groans. “Oh come on. Not you too.”

“I’d be mad at my brothers for it as well,” Charles says.

Lewis fist bumps the man and they both stare Iman down as if expecting something like an apology from her. One that she isn’t willing to give, because while she gets the worry and is appreciative of it - especially when Charles barely knows her - this is her job. She’s made a career choice and these kinds of situations are the kind of shitty parts that she expects and that need to be expected. Especially from people who’ve seen their fair share of chaos and tragedy in the world of motorsport. She knows that that’s probably why they’re worse about it. But Iman also knows that there’s something more to it.

Instead of indulging them she rolls her eyes and focuses on the engine. They join in after a couple seconds and she guides them through it, telling them the running theory on what they think caused the fire and answering the questions they have about all the ways their hypothesis could be true.

The help feels nice. They don’t slow her down at all and even if they did she realizes that she wouldn’t mind it. Their interest makes it enjoyable.

By the time they finish they’ve mostly ruled out what it wasn’t but have no confirmation on if what McLarens mechanics think went wrong did. It’s frustrating, but Iman knew enough about the job to know that eliminating possibilities was sometimes better than finding the answer right away. In this case it meant she could catch anything that was also an issue, but didn’t get its chance to show out. And there were at least two of those issues she had to document.

Iman follows the other mechanics to give a report and compare notes and she returns changed into clothes she brought with her. When she emerges on the track the drivers are also back in their clothes and standing in front of some of the newest cars from their respective brands or the creators of the engines their F1 car uses.

Lance is looking at her with a raised brow as she enters their field of view and the others appear curious.

“What’s happening here?” Daniel asks, though with how giddy he is Iman knows he knows.

“Friendly race.”

As if they weren’t professional drivers that did this multiple times a year an electric kind of excitement filled the circle. It’s classic teenage boy behavior as they nudge each other and talk shit.

Anne steps in and grabs everyone’s attention.

“We’re going to have a friendly race. Everyone will be paired up and though there is only one tandem here, you can’t be paired with your teammate.” There is some groaning from the Ferrari boys. “And, because we have a McLaren IndyCar driver here waiting around, Pato O’Ward, will be joining in on the fun.”

Pato appears the moment his name is mentioned. He wears a wide smile and shyly waves to the group.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind me crashing this.”

“Dibs!” Daniel yells.

Everyone startles, but then it’s a bunch of eye rolling and some bashfulness from Pato.

“That’s fine, Daniel. I was going to choose who gets who, but it's free for all. So pick yo…”

Before Anne can finish what she’s saying everyone scrambles and Iman crosses paths with Lewis. She knocks into him, sending him a little off kilter and with enough force that he ends up next to Carlos and her next to Charles. 

“Hey!” he shouts.

Iman waves. “Hi.”

“You know what.. How dare… Why?”

“I haven’t caused you suffering in a while, which I’m obligated as a little sister to do. Also I’ve driven many Mercedes. I want to try out a Ferrari. Plus, even if I didn’t go for Charles the odds of me reaching Carlos before Lance chooses between him and Albon were low. Shit end of the stick, Lew.”

Everyone laughs as they watch a series of emotions play on the man’s face. He huffs and puffs as he tries to find the words.

Realization dawns on Lewis’ face.

“Wait. No. You’re not racing. You can’t… This isn’t… No.”

Every sentence he starts is clearly going to lead to the interaction turning from funny to a little more serious, so Iman lets him work through finding his words.

“Then you shouldn’t have taught me how. I’m not the one who got grounded at his big age for letting me race a car by a woman who is not their mother.”

Alex snickers. “Wait. He did?”

“Yup. Of course she couldn’t make it stick, but she was trying hard to figure out all the ways she could.”

Lewis winces, probably remembering it. Then he rolls his eyes and sulks. “Fine.”

With a much gentler smile Iman walks over and places a kiss on Lewis’ cheek and ruffles his braids, then retakes her spot next to Charles. Though he fights against it she watches the sulking stop

“Okay, just don’t cry to her or dad when I kick your ass.”

“Bring it.”

Anne retakes control of the conversation and directs everyone to their cars. They’re all given helmets, because this is hot lap adjacent. 

“Everyone will get one lap, then you’ll swap. This is about speed and I know that every one of you is capable of doing this in this type of vehicle, but I’m reminding you all to be safe. Nothing crazy unless you’re sure you can execute it without risk to yourself and everyone else. Got it?”

There’s a chorus of agreement.

They all discuss who is going first, but Iman just directs Charles to the driver’s side. He looks at her with a brow raised in question, but then he follows her gaze and sees that Carlos is taking this lap. He smiles and nods.

Once in the car they strap in and Charles takes a few deep breaths. They’re given the signal to get into place and they get into a formation that works for them. Charles looks at her, a smirk on his lips that is equal parts cocky and confident.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

He extends his arm, his hand in a fist. Iman bumps it without question. Then they both turn forward and wait for the go ahead.

Despite seeing it at the same time as Charles and preparing herself, Iman's heart drops to her ass once he hits the gas. It takes a few seconds for her to chill out and by then they’re on the first turn. 

Charles drives seamlessly and despite the blur of their surroundings Iman doesn't feel like she’s going terribly fast. Then a Mercedes sails by and then another. Without having to think about what’s happening. He is pushing it, but he’s holding back. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t let loose Charlie.”

He barely glances at her, probably to gauge if she means it, and then he pushes it. In about ten seconds he’s passed one of the cars in front of them and is fighting off the other. The others behind them catch up and it’s a battle back there, but it’s irrelevant to the one in front of them.

At every instance he tries to get around the Mercedes she knows Carlos is driving, but despite almost getting past he misses the mark by half a second. Before they know it they’re crossing the finish line barely behind the Mercedes. There’s a three way tie for the others about two seconds later.

And then everyone exits their cars. There’s some bragging and arguing. As Charles and Iman change sides he lightly bumps into Carlos with a frown on his face. He’s trying to seem upset, but the smile he’s wearing is wide.

“What about being comrades?” Charles jokes.

Carlos laughs. “Not here.”

Iman slides into the driver’s seat and takes a few deep breaths as her fingers trace the steering wheel. Nerves creep in, but they leave her the moment she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Charles looking at her with a bit of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“A little bit of nerves. Nothing I won’t shake as I put them behind us.”

That brings back the smirk that he wore when he was behind the wheel. There was obviously going to be some uncertainty about her being the only non-driver in the race, but as she smiles back at Charles she realizes he didn’t bring that up or seem bothered when she snatched him up from someone who he’d seen do this for a living. It was a nice reassurance. Even if she knew damn well she could hang with the big boys. At least in this kind of situation, behind an F1 car was another thing entirely.

A muffled shout interrupts the moment and Charles puts down his window, revealing Lewis with his own down. He’s smiling, but it’s that stupid lazy one he puts on when he’s feeling himself. 

Annoying man.

“Ready to lose, Immy?”

Of course he uses that nickname while being annoying.

“You should be asking yourself that, LuLu.”

“Well, I am a seven time…”

Iman flips him off and he shuts up, looking appalled. Charles puts the window back up while laughing, but she catches Lewis’ returning the gesture.

Again Charles reaches out and they bump fists. Then it’s lights out and away they go.

In comparison Iman’s take off is delayed, but despite the few inches everyone has in front of her when she does get going, she closes and surpasses it. She puts her speed over one hundred and keeps it there on the first turn. Lewis pulls ahead and so does Lance, but she manages to evade being boxed out and puts a little over a second between them. 

The next turn has her losing speed a little, but she regains it and keeps herself next to Lance and Daniel for the straight and then on the next turn, she guns it. With ease she ends up in front of Lance and then she’s next to the Mercedes. Lewis increases speed, but it doesn’t beat her out. In the final turn she does what she did in the last one and pushes the car to its limits. The last few feet before the end of the track are a close race, but at the last second she pushes further.

With her speed the car goes past the finish, but it’s a second or two before her brother crosses the line. Everyone else trails by a second or more and then they all leave the car. Iman is shaking from the speed and the excitement. Charles rushes over and pulls her into a hug she happily returns. 

“That was great. No, excellent. You crushed it,” Charles says.

“Thank you.”

There’s some shit talking, but they all praise her.

Lewis is pouting, but it’s not fooling her at all. He’s the last to pull her into a hug and it’s tight. 

“You did fucking phenomenal, Immy. I didn’t expect that. You blew away all expectations,” he says.

As he pulls away he kisses the top of her head and refuses to let her go. Pride shines on his face and she feels even more proud of herself. She feels like she’s the shit. There are no delusions of grandeur on the level they’re at, but she beat multiple professional racers at something adjacent to their own game and that’s good enough.

“I did learn some things from the best,” she says.

He laughs, throwing his head back a little and then pulls her into another hug. They pull away and Pato walks up, patting her arm.

“Maybe you should be in Nascar, that was better than your IndyCar test,” Pato says.

“Her what? You’re what?” Lewis moves so fast to look at Pato and Iman that he should have whiplash.

“Uh…”

Pato winces. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Iman Marie Hamilton. You’re what?”

He moves toward her just as she ducks behind Charles. With how serious - but not in a bodily harm way - he looks she’s sure Charles is going to move out of her brother’s war path, but he reaches a hand around and takes hold of her shirt. As Lewis tries to get around him he moves with her, using the shirt to leverage her.

“Maybe we should forget this and go to dinner.”

Sweet Charles is trying to de-escalate, but it’s not working and that’s in part because he can’t stop himself from giggling. Which turns Lewis ire from just  Iman to both of them.

“LeClerc. Is this the war you want?”

Everyone holds their breath and seconds tick by.

“Yes.”

And without a word Iman breaks into a sprint with Charles following suit. Carlos has chosen Lewis' side so he goes for his teammate. Pato and Lance run interference for Iman while Alex and Daniel join in the sport of being the first to get to Charles. It’s chaos and it dissolves into laughter and labored breathing so quickly. Yet none of them stop.

You’d think they were all a bunch of children and not very much grown adults. But it’s so funny that Anne puts the camera people to work chasing them down for all the actions.

[notsoattractivearenti]

Start of A New Life (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 4.3K

Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth descriptions, slight mentions of difficulty concieving

A/N: dad!christian for you all!!! this is so not proofread lol. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

Two red lines. “Pregnant - 2-3 weeks”. Another two red lines.

My heart suddenly skips a beat. My hands start shaking and I feel a gasp just leave my mouth. I can’t believe what I’m seeing right now. Is this real? I thought to myself. I have to take another look at all three pregnancy tests that I’m holding on both of my hands just to make sure I didn’t see them wrong and of course, nothing changed. Tears start to fall from my eyes, I am on cloud nine knowing a mini me – or my husband – is growing inside me. It’s happening… It’s really happening! 

—

Christian and I have always wanted children of our own, and we have been trying for a baby for more than a year. We are well aware that not everyone will get pregnant as soon as they start trying, but honestly, at some point it can be exhausting and painful during the period. We had gone to the doctor, got ourselves checked up and luckily no issues were found, so the doctor just suggested we keep trying and be patient. There were times when we were so close to giving up – I was sick of seeing negative results over and over again – but we reminded ourselves that if it’s meant to be, it will happen when it happens and there are couples who have been trying to conceive way longer than us and still haven't succeeded.

I used to constantly apologize to Christian whenever I got a negative result on the pregnancy test because I felt like the problem was me and I was afraid I could never give him a child – I truly wanted to fulfill one of his lifelong dreams: becoming a father. And every single time Christian would tell me to stop apologizing to him and quit being hard on myself because it was never my fault. I knew he felt disappointed to see a single red line instead of two, but like always, he cared a lot more about my feelings. He never failed to comfort me during those times and would go out of his way just to make me feel better – and I am forever grateful to have such a loving and supportive partner for the rest of my life.

—

Christian has been in training since this morning – shortly before I found out I’m pregnant – so I decided to plan a special, little way to reveal the grand, long-awaited news before he goes home. I really cannot wait to see his reaction and I’m “positive” it’s going to be the sweetest thing ever. Since he transferred to his new club, he usually comes home from training feeling all happy and pumped up – imagine how he will be when he finds out he’s going to be a dad! My man may not be the most expressive person in the world, but I know no matter how little he would show his emotion on the surface, he is going to feel immense happiness deep inside his heart.

I searched through Pinterest for some references and after a while, I finally made up my mind. I don’t necessarily have good eyes on aesthetics and stuff so I just go for a simple way. I go look for some adorable little pregnancy announcement onesies, a gift box, and a few small decorative pieces so it would at least look cute and pleasing. I arrange the “present” as soon as I get home, put the box on the kitchen counter, and write a note on the outside – it says: “For my special man ♥ ps: no question asked! ;)”.

A few hours later, he finally comes home.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m home!”

Usually, I would come to him at the front door, greet him back and we would start sharing about each other’s days. But this time, I’m pretending not to hear him and make myself look busy in the kitchen – even though Christian and I actually cleaned the entire kitchen last night. To be honest, the reason I’m doing this is to cover my nervousness. I know he’s going to be excited but a little part of me worries he would change his mind about having a child after so many failed “attempts”.

“Y/N?” He sounds confused.

He then goes around the house looking for me before eventually finding me in the kitchen. I can hear his footsteps but I keep pretending like I am completely unaware of him. He comes over to me and hugs me from behind, and greets me with kisses – and of course, I act surprised when he does that.

“Hey baby, did you not hear me?”

His raspy, gentle voice gives me chills. It never fails to make me feel weak on my knees. But for now, I have to keep my act together.

“Oh sorry, I got so caught up here washing dishes!”

I’m trying to make an impromptu excuse but I’m pretty sure it sounds really weird to him now. I mean, right now there are no dirty dishes to wash except one mug I currently have in my hands… I just know he is a bit confused.

“Umm, Y/N, didn’t we just wash th-”

“So how was training?” I cut him off before he questions me any further.

“Well, great as always. Tired, sure, but you know…” He pauses to kiss my neck, “whenever I see you after training, I am so recharged right away.”

I bite my bottom lip and feel my cheeks are turning red. Ugh, focus Y/N… Remember the big news you have yet to tell him! I remind myself quietly.

“Recharge? What am I, a phone charger?”

I instantly regret that lame, super unfunny joke I just said. He chuckles, I believe he is just being the supportive partner he always is.

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good one, Mrs. Pulisic.”

“Oh by the way, I think I see something that looks like a gift right over there,” he points to the gift box over the counter, “is that for me?”

“I don’t know… Maybe?”

“What is it?” He straightforwardly asks about it.

“Christian…” I sigh.

“What did I do to deserve it?” He quickly asks again.

I turn around, rolling my eyes at him to show him in a jokey way that his questions annoy me.

“My goodness, Christian, just open the goddamn gift!”

He quickly walks across the room while saying the phrase “What’s in the box? What’s in the box???” repeatedly. I carefully watch every little move he makes – I really want to cherish this moment.

“Awww, baby, am I really your special man?” He cutely pouts and puts his hands over his chest when he reads the notes.

I can’t help but laugh at his adorable face.

When he starts opening the gift box, I can feel my heart jump a little. I subconsciously start fidgeting my fingers and shake my legs – I really am that nervous. I almost certainly know that he’s going to react positively but, what if I could be wrong?

Before I know it, I see him gasping, then has his hands covering his mouth, with both of his eyes widened. He then turns to my direction with the look of disbelief written all over his face.

“Y/N???” His jaw drops and his breath hitches.

“Are we… Are w-” He is really caught off guard by this big news he is losing words for a moment.

“Uhm, sorry, I uh, I wh-” he pauses for a good second before continuing, “Are we having a baby???”

“Yeah…” I excitedly nod in response. “I just found out this morning.”

He then runs back to me, hugs me tight and buries his face in between my neck and shoulder – I can slightly feel his tears over my shoulder.

“You’re going to be a dad, Christian.” I whisper to him.

And just like that, I just made him cry even harder.

“My love…” He sobs. “Thank you… Thank you. I love you!”

He looks down and puts his hand on my tummy, then his eyes go straight into mine.

“It’s a bit surreal thinking about how our child is now growing inside you… You’re unbelievably amazing, Y/N.”

He then kneels in front of my tummy while holding my waists with both his hands, and talks to our growing child.

“Hi little angel, I can’t wait to meet you… I love you so much already.” He kisses my tummy after.

—

We started telling our family and close friends a few days after the first sonogram. Everyone was so happy for us and has been very lovely and wonderful to us – especially me, of course. Both mine and his family would go all the way to make sure I got everything I need, and the moms have been offering generous help and willingly guiding me through my first pregnancy whenever I need them to.

During the ultrasound, Christian didn’t let go of my hand even for a second and asked the doctor so many questions that I didn’t even think about – apparently the night before he had done his research and I was not aware of that. When we got to see our growing fetus on the screen and listen to their heartbeat, Christian – who usually doesn’t really show his emotions on his face –  became very emotional and it kind of freaked me out. Being a dad is truly one of the biggest dreams he has ever had. Now that it’s really coming true, his emotions are all over the place and because he is not used to experiencing such overflowing emotions, he is still trying his best to manage them. Though I think that is adorable, I just love to make fun of him for it.

“You know, Chris, I’m wondering who the hell is actually with a baby?” I poke fun at his “hormonal” reaction. “Because it’s like your hormones are going crazy while I’m here able to control my emotions.”

“Oh shut up,” he moans, “what’s happening is that my heart is warmer now while yours is still ice cold.” 

My jaw drops at his immediate, clever clap back. Oh how I love sassy Christian!

“Stop it!” I laugh really hard. “That’s a good burn on me, Pulisic!”

—

Since Christian found out we are expecting, he has been extra attentive, present and caring to me. Though I appreciate it greatly, it can be too much sometimes. Therefore I would ask him to back down a bit and thankfully he never fails to understand that I still need my space.

No matter how busy he might be, he never wants to miss going to every doctor appointment. He also always pays very good attention to our baby’s development – he even has a binder made specifically for it. He gets excited all the time when the baby kicks, and when the baby is kicking so hard he would talk to my tummy.

“Sweetheart, please be good in there. Don’t hurt Mommy, okay?”

“My little angel, don’t kick Mommy’s tummy that hard, please. Let’s not make Mommy feel hurt.”

He always communicates with the baby and every time, they would respond to Christian. It’s like they have bonded really well even before they meet, and the thought of him being so close with our child really melts my heart.

He loves taking pictures of my growing bump. Every single time he would tell me I look really beautiful while carrying our child, and my reaction would either be thanking him shyly or telling him to shut the crap – depending on my mood that day, really. Pregnancy has given me mood swings lately I can’t even predict how I would be feeling that day whenever a new day starts. But Christian has always had a lot of patience and I admire how he would perfectly handle me no matter how good or bad my mood might be. Yeah, he is without a doubt going to be the best parent and I can’t wait to witness it.

We decided to not find out about our baby’s sex because we want to surprise ourselves. Besides, we really don’t care if we’re having a boy or a girl. We don’t want to set certain expectations especially when it comes to their sex or gender because all we care about is that they’re healthy and come to this world all safe and sound. Although, we have prepared some names – but we don’t feel like making the final decision before the baby is actually born.

—

Today I woke up at 4 in the morning to a cramp on my stomach – a bit similar to the menstrual cramps I used to have at the beginning of my period. It comes and goes irregularly, and at first I got scared thinking something bad might be happening. But then I remember what my doctor had explained before: the cramp might be a sign of early labor. I then wake Christian up, letting him know I am possibly entering the early labor stage. When I tell him about it, his eyes widen all of the sudden and he slightly jumps off the bed.

“Wha- Y/N should we just get you to the hospital right now???” He sounds so worried.

“No, I don’t think so. Let’s just time each contraction and when the contraction interval is around 5 to 7 minutes, then we can go.”

I have to explain it calmly because he is visibly alarmed. Even after I do so he is still looking so tense.

“Chris, I’m alright. You can relax for now.” I assure him.

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, ”if you say so.”

—

Almost 15 hours later, the contractions start to come closer apart and when I check my phone, the interval of last contraction to current contraction is 5 minutes, so I tell Christian that it is finally time to go to the hospital. Already dressed, he immediately grabs the car keys and sets up some blankets on the passenger’s seat in case my water breaks. After that, he goes back into the house to grab hospital bags then puts them in the trunk of our car. Not long after, he sees me struggling to get into the car, so he gently helps me and once I get in, he makes sure I am sitting comfortably before locking all the doors at our house.

“Okay, everything is set, now it’s time to go.” He says as he starts the car.

He looks at me for a second and gives me a kiss on my forehead before he takes the wheel.

“Let’s go have a baby, shall we?”

—

The midwife informs me that I’m now 10 centimeters dilated, meaning it is finally time to push. I am still in incredible pain and genuinely terrified to do so because I don’t know if I can still bear the pain while pushing a full-sized human baby out of my vagina. Also, I have heard about this thing called “ring of fire” – it’s the strong burning sensation that you will experience when your baby is crowning – and now that it’s about to happen, I can’t stop thinking about it. While getting into the birthing position, I turn to Christian who is standing next to me.

“Christian, I’m scared…” I whimper. “I don’t know if I can do this…”

Hearing what I say truly breaks his heart. He hates knowing I’m scared yet he can’t do anything about it except giving me the encouragement he knows I need. He then looks deep into my eyes, smiling at me while caressing my hair, with his other hand holding mine tight.

“Yes you can, my love.” He softly says.

“You are the strongest person I have ever known so I know you know you absolutely can! It’s okay to be scared but baby, I’m here.” He kisses my forehead. “Let’s go meet our little angel, yeah?”

I nod and take some deep breaths to prepare myself. Then I let the doctor know I’m ready and they immediately tell me to start pushing.

One push, two pushes, those were not so bad. Starting from third push, it starts to feel very, very painful.

“You’re doing great my love!”

He is basically being my ultimate cheerleader the whole time. He doesn’t let go of my hand no matter how hard I might grip his hand. He says he doesn’t feel a thing though I know he is lying his butt off for my benefit.

“Chris this hurts so bad…” I bawl, squeezing his hand hard. “This really hurt…”

His eyes suddenly become all teary. He can no longer hide his ache seeing the woman he loves greatly has to endure unthinkable pain to bring his child into the world.

“My love I’m sorry…” He weeps. “I’m sorry you have to go through this… But sweetheart you know you can keep going, a few more pushes and our baby is here…”

I keep pushing even though at some point I didn’t feel like I could do it anymore. But having Christian there gives me the strength I need during the birthing process.

“Y/N, let’s give one big final push!” Says the doctor.

“Uh, yeah, okay…” I say to them as my breath hitches.

I’m already very exhausted but unfortunately there’s no way I can stop. I can feel my baby is crowning and this “ring of fire” sensation is no joke – so when the doctor told me to do one final push all I can think of is that this pain will be over soon.

“C’mon sweetheart! You can do this!”

I hear a loud crying from my baby.

“Congratulations, it’s a girl!” The doctor excitedly announces.

“Oh my God, honey, we have a daughter!” I turn to Christian and see him already flooded with tears.

“Our little princess…” He sobs. “One more beautiful girl for me to love for the rest of my life.”

—

Christian and I can’t stop looking at our newborn daughter. 

“Chris, look at her… She’s so tiny.”

“These little fingers are the cutest.”

She wraps Christian’s forefinger with her entire hand.

“She has your lips, Y/N.” He points out. 

“Yeah… But she mostly has your features so I was basically just an oven!” I jokily grunt.

“Well you know it isn’t my fault that my genes are more prominent, is it?” he playfully replies, “I’m just that good.”

I roll my eyes, pretending to be irritated.

“Smug butthead.”

“Hey, watch your words, Mommy!” 

Christian got me laughing and blushing. He just reminds me that I’m a mom now! It feels like we just had the talk about growing our family yesterday and the next thing I know I am now in a hospital, just giving birth to our sweet little angel who is sleeping peacefully in my arms at this moment. This still doesn’t feel real… Our lives are now officially changed forever and I couldn’t imagine mine before her.

“Hey,” Christian wraps his arms around me and rests his head on my shoulder, then whispers, “I love you.”

I have not stopped smiling and I can feel my smile getting wider.

“I love you.” I reply.

“You’re my everything, Y/N.” He adds.

“Oh no, you’re about to say some sappy monologue aren't you?”

“Yeah, here it comes…”.

Before he says his little speech he kisses me on the cheeks.

“Y/N… I can never thank you enough. You have made my dreams come true and I still don’t know why I deserve you in the first place! Thank you for making my life a lot more perfect than I ever imagined.”

I’m starting to sob.

“Christian…”

“I hated seeing you in so much pain just to bring her into the world.” He continues. “I wish it was me instead… But you continue to amaze me with your strength. And now, I love you so much more – more than I ever love anyone, even myself. Ever since you came into my life you have changed my world for the better. I never wanted to live my life with anyone else but you, and I’m beyond grateful we have a beautiful child together.”

“I will take good care of my girls for as long as I live…” His voice starts to shake. “I love you. I love you so much. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N.”

Tears immediately streaming down my face. I just gave birth so my hormones are all over the place, and his beautiful speech doesn’t help. He got me speechless and extremely emotional.

“Ugh,” I jokingly grunt as I wipe my tears with my hand, “how dare you make me cry, Pulisic.”

And suddenly we see our baby giving us her first big smile – it’s like she is reacting to all the love and emotions her parents are experiencing right now!

“Awwwww!” Christian and I make the same sound in unison.

And of course, it makes me cry even harder. Christian is emotional too, by the way, but not as messed up as I am currently. He grabs some tissues and gently wipes my face – which is all wet thanks to the river of tears – with them right away as I am still holding our daughter.

“Y/N, my love, I don’t think you will ever stop crying from now on, no?” He laughs.

“Obviously not!”

—

“So, have you two decided on baby girl’s name?”

Christian and I instantly look at each other when the nurse asks that question. As I said, we have prepared some names for our baby but we have yet to choose the perfect name for her. Christian then grabs a piece of paper with the list of names from his pocket and as soon as the nurse leaves the room, we start discussing right away.

“Okay, uh… Which one do you love the most, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, Chris,” I reply, “there are too many options.”

“Well you can’t say you don’t know,” Christian sighs, “we have to pick two.”

An idea suddenly passes through my head.

“Why don’t we try this out: we say any name we each feel perfectly fitting for her at the same time. What do you think?” I suggest.

“Yeah okay, it’s worth a try.” He agrees.

“Alright, let’s say it in the count of three.” I instruct him.

“One, two, three…”

“Dylan!”

“Emery?”

He didn't sound sure at first, but then changed his mind immediately. “Oh, I like both names!”

“Dylan Emery Pulisic… It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

I agree with him. I look at our little bundle of joy in my arms and I just know those names were made for her.

“Yeah, that’s definitely her name.”

—

Even though we are now taking care of our newborn together, Christian did have to  fight just to get enough paternity leave. It was not easy for him because Dylan was born in the middle of the season and he is one of the most crucial players for the team, but he really wanted to take care of his daughter especially during the first few weeks of her life. Not only that, he feels like I have done so much already and he wants to also take care of you while you recover from the whole pregnancy and childbirth periods. He wouldn’t even mind getting less playing time when he comes back, because in his own words: “Now my priorities are my girls, football is much less important than both of you.”

Before Dylan was born, Christian had been practicing basically everything to prepare him for fatherhood. He can change the diapers, clean and bathe the baby, perfectly wrap her, he knows how to help soothe the baby, burp her after feeding – anything, really. He truly is excited to embrace this new life as a parent.

Dylan’s first week at home was hard, I had to adjust my sleeping schedule because until she’s a bit older I have to feed her every 2-3 hours and it messes up my sleeping. Not only that, she would loudly scream and cry all of the sudden and it mostly happens in the middle of the night. But Christian is always there, ready to help no matter how tired he might be – it’s a bare minimum but not all dads would be very hands-on like him – and I’m beyond grateful I don’t have to do everything alone. We always stay up late together, like when I have to feed Dylan at 12 AM and 3 AM. Most of the time, when we heard Dylan crying in the other room, he would tell me to go back to sleep and offer to take care of her. I would see them from the baby monitor and I’m telling you, he truly is the best dad. Seeing him being so loving to our daughter makes me already think about having another baby… But obviously both of us want to focus on raising Dylan so we decided to put the conversation on hold until Dylan is old enough to be a big sister.

Two weeks after Dylan came into the world, Christian decides it is time to introduce her to everyone at Milanello. So he brings both of us to the training grounds and shows her off to the staff and players. The club even got Dylan a mini home jersey kit as a way to welcome her to the Milan family.

One of his teammates greets us the second we get into the dressing room and ask about his current state. And to be honest, Christian’s heartfelt answer to it reminds me how lucky I am that I get to do this parenthood journey with him.

“Christian, hey! How are you feeling now, bro?

“Well I am a husband and a brand new father, so from now on I will always be feeling a lot happier than I have ever been. I am now on the start of a new life, thanks to my amazing, beautiful girls.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[fluffyfantasticducky]

The Sound of Love

☆ Pairing: Loki x Mutant!Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki now an Avenger, is quite the reclusive and introverted member in the Avenger's compound and for someone who likes peace and quiet, it's ironic how smitten he is for the loudest member of the team.

☆ Word Count: 5,207

☆ Notes: Loki is smitten flirty ler. Reader is a mutant with hypersonic voice. This had been in my WIPs for so long, but I finally have some time off 😭 enjoy.

☆ Warnings: Anxious Reader, insecurities regarding voice and brief weight insecurities are mentioned. I am a sucker for opposites attract so the reader is a stereotypical sunshine happy go lucky.

Being an Avenger was interesting on its own, periods of strict dieting, rigorous training regimes, public events to raise public morale, testing out technology, political meetings, missions that lasted days or even weeks. Now, when you were, not only a former enemy, but the enemy, the original reason they came to exist… Well, it made it all more difficult to just do anything outside of the tower.

It made Loki concerningly reclusive. At first it seemed convenient, people were scared of him, so him wanting nothing to do with the outside seemed like a fair exchange, the facilities had everything needed to survive anyway. But it was only a matter of time until it became concerning.

So, Thor started doing his best to drag him along to his patrols and visits to town. Which helped getting less dirty looks from people rather when he tried going alone. But Loki always found a way to escape back to the compound and cut his visits to the town short.

But things changed the day he met you.

And Loki was not particularly one to fawn over mortals like his brother whose line of lovers could fill countries, not even over another god. While Loki had a fair string of lovers behind him, none ever really meant much to him or lasted much for that matter.

But you… you had something different. You were everything Loki found annoying. If there was a list to thing that got on Loki’s nerves, you may have as well checked every little box. You had a strict moral code and mawkish righteousness like the super soldiers, you had a strong temper and were very vocal about the things you did not stand for like his brother, you had a bubbly personality and enjoyed teasing and joking (almost flirting) around like Stark and the Falcon did and given your powers you tended to be quite loud. And somehow, despite all those things that could drive Loki mad, he was completely smitten. Which was probably the most infuriating trait you had.

Being placed together, Loki and you seemed to be like night and day at first instance. Loki noticed how you always seemed to be in a good mood and never denied anyone a nice chat, while you practically had to beg Loki to engage in conversation and even still, he’d seem rather bothered by being interrupted. You were always doing something to help around the quarters like doing extra dishes, cooking snacks for everyone, or wiping dusty furniture when you noticed something was dirty while Loki spent his free time with books are maybe an old movie when he felt like agreeing to enjoy human culture. And while you enjoyed reading as well, while Loki liked reading in silence you usually heard music earphones as you wagged your leg along the beat as you devoured books beside him.

“Hey nerds,” Sam stepped in the room. “We’re going dancing tonight, you two coming?”

“I’d rather—”

“Oh, which club?” you asked excitedly.

You had a way of peaking Loki’s interest when you spoke like that, your enthusiasm was terribly contagious, but he was too proud to do anything but pretend he was still focused on his book.

“Nat and Wanda wanted to take their men dancing.”

“Oh, so we’re staying home tonight?” you smiled.

“Do you think yourself capable of convincing Banner or Vision of socializing in a big club?”

“Hey, no judging. Besides, it’s more fun like that, we get to choose our own music.” You smiled brightly, you always seemed to have something nice to say about everyone. “Which conference hall are you gonna use?”

“2C, at 9 pm.” Sam grinned. “I take it we’ll see you there, mockingbird?”

“Yeah, should I wear something in particular?” you asked.

“Oh, how about that something se—”

“Sam, you finish that sentence and I’ll glue your upper arms to your chest.”

He wasn’t one to agree with the other Avengers, but that was something he wouldn’t mind seeing. And Wilson didn’t take it personal as he just laughed and left.

“Are you joining us, Loki?” you asked.

“I would rather stay here and finish my book” Loki smiled. “You go have fun though, darling.”

“Oh… b-but it won’t be as fun without you! Please, please, oh please!” you had your fingers tangled in a praying gesture and you were making the biggest pleading eyes he’d ever seen.

You were unfairly cute, but the power of persuasion you had over him was even scarier than the one from your mutation.

“Yes, of course” he sighed. “Thor would be upset if I keep passing up on your silly group bonding activities.”

You had tackled him in a couch in a bright hug as you thanked him over and over as your cheek squeezed his own, even pressing a sweet kiss against his cheek.

Between such affection and getting to see you dance all night was the most delightful way to spend the night he could think of. Next chance he’d even dance with you. Because he didn’t want to make the mistake of not dancing with you when you invited him ever again. Not that he minded watching you dance the night away.

And your singing, Norns, if you weren’t talking to anyone, you were always singing at least in a mumbly manner. Loki wondered how you could never go hoarse.

Every time you sung Loki’s heart fluttered. There was no right that your singing did the things it did to him. But he couldn’t help but swoon every time you did. And people were starting to notice. Karaoke nights were particularly interesting.

“The little mortal has a lovely voice, right?” Thor nudged him while you were on their improvised stage with Wanda, singing to Dance with Somebody.

“It’s good” Loki shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Yes, you seem to be enjoying it...” Clint said making a mocking dreamy face with along with an over dramatic sigh.

“Leave Rudolf alone,” Tony said.

Loki arched an eyebrow. Stark wasn’t the kind to be mediator when teasing took place, much less when he was tipsy like this.

“Being absolutely smitten over a human must be damaging enough to his pride.” He snickered.

Banner and Rogers just smiled amusedly, meaning Loki was not gonna get any back up from the more level-headed Avengers. Not that he expected it.

“You’re all delusional idiots.” Loki rolled his eyes.

But his attention was snatched back to the stage when you reached a high note. You had a good technique, your mouth opened wide with a smile as your voice reached a volume high enough that you broke Tony’s wineglass.

At this point, it was a normal occurrence. Everyone still remembered that they had to replace the old crystal dome on the recreational room with fortified polymer “soundproof” windows from that one karaoke night when they had you singing Dream On, the fact that no one left that night with permanent hearing damage was almost a miracle.

This time you didn’t seem to even notice the casualty of Tony’s glass, as you and Wanda kept jumping and dancing around as you sang happily with your friend. Loki could feel the heat creeping up on his cheeks as he saw how happy you danced around, and he could suppress the smile.

It was funny really, how much his mother would scold him growing up for being so impatient with Thor’s loud a boisterous nature just to end up falling for someone who was exactly that, maybe even worse. You had a lot of energy which was good because you always pushed yourself in training, but Loki never expected to be so drawn to someone like you. You shone like the sun itself, and being a frost giant like he was, it seemed almost dangerous to fall for you.

“Loki, Loki, Loki!” you jumped on the couch next to him, “Look, Loki!”

Ah, that was another thing, you had a tendency to say his name a lot. You were what Midgardians described as hyperactive, but his name was something you repeated a lot more than any word, and more than anyone else’s.

“A cardboard box?” he smiled. “What’s so exciting about that?”

“Oh, haha” you rolled your eyes, “My package arrived!”

You gave him a pleading look and he smiled. At this point it was almost a ritual, you got a delivery and you rushed to Loki for him to open it with a dagger he’d summon. Which had also started a game.

“What’s your guess, darling?” he smirked as his hand sizzled with his Seid.

“The silver twins daggers, I mean one of them, but you get it” you said firmly.

It was that simple, he had such a wide and vast collection of daggers that whenever you needed him to use them, you’d have to try to guess which one he’d summon.

Most of the time you’d lose give the odds were at least 50 to one, and it didn’t help that honoring his title, Loki would change his pick last second if you ever got it right. But today he was in a good mood, and soon he was wielding one of his silver daggers, it felt weird wielding the left dagger on his right hand, but your excitement to see you had got it right was worth it as you fell back to the couch with a “WOOO!”

“Oh, congratulations little canary” he clapped.

“You’re becoming predictable, Loki” you smiled.

“Oh, is that right?” he grinned as he reached to poke your side making you squeak.

“Would you rather admit that I’m getting to know you better?” you smiled.

“Loki don’t quit your dreams as an Avenger, you don’t have much future as a harlequin” he chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve made you laugh, and not everyone is as tough of an audience as you are.”

He just chuckled as he opened your package for you. It was two pairs of headphones.

“Another one?” he smiled. “Do you break them that often that you need to be in constant state of purchase? And what do you need the extra set for?”

“You say it as if I just compulsively and irresponsibly bought headphones!”

Loki arched an eyebrow and relished the fait blush on your cheeks.

“I re-sell the ones in good state” you mumbled.

“Right, whatever you say. That’s why you got two pairs.”

“No, uh... this one’s for you.” You smiled as you handed him a pair, “They have better Bluetooth range, the battery lasts longer, the headband is adjustable, and it blocks outside noise.”

When you handed him the pair, he got a better look at them. It was pitch black, and on the driver, it had a little golden sticker shaped like his helmet, he shifted it and the gold shone green. It was still weird how ever since Thor let his story be known people had become more accepting of him, especially people who knew that the Mad Titan was a monster had even come to support him, but the concept of merchandising his image for admirers to show their preference for him was still new to the former prince.

But the present was very pretty, almost as the little mortal gifting it.

“Thank you” he said a bit more softly than he intended.

“It’s no problem,” you tucked a string of hair behind your ear in a way that made his heart flutter.

“This will help me have a reason to not hear Thor’s drunk singing the next Barton drops by with beer.”

You let out a shy laugh.

“A-Ah… no, it’s for me actually” you said, “well, because of me, I mean.”

“You? What could I possibly need to avoid hearing you for?”

You shrugged.

“Thor mentioned a while back that you thought I was too loud.”

“He did?”

Oh… Oh that imprudent, bumbling, traitorous, airheaded, twisted oaf. That’s NOT what had happened. He remembered that conversation like it had been yesterday.

“Loki, there you are!” his brother had called him.

“Where else would I be?” Loki asked tiredly. “It’s too early.”

“Ah, I see the young mockingbird has kept you awake again” Thor said noticing the mug of coffee on his younger’s brother’s hands.

“We stayed up late talking, yes” Loki yawned. “Where she gets so much energy from is beyond me.”

Thor just laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this brother, it’s a welcome change, for sure, but an odd one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The little Midgardian has you completely enamored” Thor grinned smoothly, “I didn’t think she’d even be your type.”

“She’s… certainly different from what I’m accustomed” Loki agreed. “I’d dare to say he’s more rambunctious than you are. But she’s honest and strong-willed, a combination I didn’t get to see much of.”

Loki could only roll his eyes at previous relationships, because of his status he’d be greeted with two approaches: either partners who feared his rank and power and would submit to his will for fear, or even worse, leeches that would use him as a steppingstone to get to power (or get close to Thor). After a while Loki just gave up and played along treating every lover like a casual affair and soon move on to the next thing.

You, for once had no interest on royalty besides movies, you absolutely adored helping Thor prepare for dates with Jane which mean there was no interest. And you had no reprieve on giving Loki a piece of your mind when you felt he deserved it.

He smiled.

“She stayed up singing until late…” Loki mumbled, mostly for himself.

“I think it’s great.” Thor encouraged him. “When are you asking our little singing bird out?”

Loki chuckled, it was amusing to see how much better Thor adapted to Midgard expressions and idioms.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, brother” Loki said with the hint of a sad smile. “You said it, we’re not exactly each other’s types.”

“It’s true you’re quite the somber one, brother.” Thor teased him. “And our little mortal canary is always loud and bright.”

“Thing I would not and do not tolerate from anyone else” Loki said looking at his uproarious brother. “But she would find me rather dull.”

He never said he found you annoying, quite the opposite. But he could only imagine what his brother had done. He’d seen it far too many times back on Asgard.

When Thor, Volstagg or Fandral wanted to flirt they’d have this ridiculous approach of sending another one of them to mess with the girl they wanted to impress, annoy her into flirting. All harmless fun and always careful not to actually disrespect the maiden in question but Loki still found it annoying and like Hogun preferred a calmer style for the first approach. At least it was funny to see their strategy blow up in their face and more than once get a slap in the face.

Thor must have gone to you and mentioned that Loki thought you were too loud to tease you on his behalf. Not keeping in mind that you were not Asgardian which meant you were not accustomed to their harsher approach, and much less that despite loving to sing you were profoundly conscious about your voice’s volume. Loki had always been very careful about pointing out when your power made you too loud. Gently placing a hand on your thigh to calm you down when you got overexcited and therefore loud.

And yet, despite all of Loki’s effort to make you feel comfortable around him, here you were, with a timid smile with the most thoughtful gift to push Loki away. Thor could officially be crowned as the worst wingman in history of all Nine Realms.

He sighed.

“Dear heart, I don’t think I need this” Loki said gently, “Not for the reason you think, at least.”

“I just thought you could use not hearing me blasting your eardrums when you’re reading” you joked, but the tone of awkwardness was palpable.

“I’d be willing to risk that if you’d believe me, I don’t truly mind hearing you sing” Loki chuckled.

“But my voice… And music taste…”

“Are both beautiful,” Loki interrupted you, “and no one has a wider range of music in the entire Compound. Which I recall someone scolding me for not expanding my horizons to human music.”

“Ah… well, yeah, but you can always get that from the others, oldies from Steve and Bucky, rock from Tony, pop and electronic from Pete, and when Quill and the Guardians you can hear 80’s—”

“Dear, you’re very optimistic I can actually stand anyone you mentioned” Loki laughed. “Not everyone has your luck.”

“And no one else here likes—”

“Aaah!” you shushed him covering his mouth, “We agreed to never talk about my sins. It’s our secret.”

The look you gave him was threatening but sharing a secret with you was exciting and heartwarming. More because it was the most harmless secret, but you still got embarrassed about it, which Loki found beyond endearing.

“Oh, really? I very clearly remember hearing you singing to the top of your lungs this very week to it.”

“Shhh” you whispered as you fought a giggle. “We don’t talk about that, only you get to know.”

“Good to know I’m so special” Loki chuckled.

“You were a happy mistake” you said squinting your eyes in joking manner. “But if anyone else finds out I’m strangling you.”

“What’s the expression you mortals have…?” Loki smirked, “Don’t threaten me with a good time?”

Your cheeks turned hot pink as you smacked his arm with a laugh.

“You’re pain in the ass” you laughed.

“Well, I certainly appreciate having some influence on your backside.”

You let out a screech as you began smacking his arm with a bright blush on your face. But as he should’ve expected your screech was loud and made Loki wince a bit.

“Ah… Sorry” you said as the mumble returned to your voice. “See? That’s what the headphones are good for.”

Loki scowled with a huff.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Before you had time to ask Loki had thrown you over the ottoman and with his knees pinning you by the shoulders and his feet stuck under the ottoman so there was no force on earth moving you.

“Uhh… Lokes? W-What are you doing?” you asked nervously.

“Testing how loud you can really be.”

What do you— Pfft!”

Loki didn’t make you wait for an answer (or to finish your question, that is), and he began slowly dragging his fingers across your ribs in a maddeningly gentle manner. And it wasn’t like your thin t-shirt didn’t do much to protect you.

You clenched your jaw as a big grin appeared on your face.

“Pfft! L-Loki!” you snickered.

“Yes, little dove?” Loki asked innocently.

Loki kept gently dragging his fingers across your torso, slowly tracing his fingers up and down your sides and ribs, in circular motion across your armpits and spiraling onto the center of your tummy.

All you could do was smack his legs as you tried to free your arms and kicking your legs on the air and your cheeks puffed with your jaw clenched as you did all you could to not burst out laughing.

“L-Loho— Loki please!” you looked like you were about to burst. “I’m behe— I’m begging you. D-Don’t!”

Loki just chuckled.

“Darling, I have not even started the real fun” he grinned deviously, “and you already look like you’re gonna puncture your own lung. Just laugh already.”

“I cahahan’t” you whined between the strangled giggles. “It’ll huhurt yohohou!”

“Beautiful little bird,” Loki smiled, “it’d be impossible for you to hurt me.”

He noticed the pretty rosy blush on your cheeks, and he relished the way you got flustered at his teasing. Loki simply chuckled and squeezed your ribs, now poking your ribs, drilling his fingers between each rib. Growing up both as the God of Mischief and with Thor as his older brother, he had come to know first-hand what kind of tickles were better to make someone laugh to insanity.

And that you did.

Your face was already impossibly red in the face, and giggles were already slipping out, so the poking were just the last straw that made you finally crack up. And you burst into loud laughter and crazy squirming, kicking your legs against the ottoman, arching your back and tugging against Loki’s hold as he tickled you to tears.

“LOKI! HAHAHAHA! W-WAIT! WAHAHAHAIT!” you screeched.

Loki winced a bit at your superhuman volume as a smile formed on his face from both pride from making you laugh and the endearment of your laugh on its own. Your pretty laugh only being further motivation to tickle you more.

But he decided ease off the tickling as he just stopped poking your ribs to gently scribble your ribs in light feather like touches. But by now your defenses were shattered to pieces and you kept giggling in soft wheezing giggles. He simply wiggled two fingers on each side as if he was striking chords of his old lyre.

“Oh gohohohod! How is thahahat so bad?!” you giggled in between hiccups and soft wheezes.

“I don’t think it’s that bad, you’re just that ticklish” he chuckled softly. “Look at you, you’re wheezing.”

“Hehehe! I’m not!” you hiccup. “Lohoki!”

The way you laughed out his name made Loki’s heart flutter in his chest. Your voice got high-pitched and wheezy in a way that was awfully adorable and it urged him to give you the biggest hug and cover your face in kisses and beg you to be his own.

“Loki! I'm gonna gehehet you back for this!” you screamed in a fit of laughter. “Stohohop it!”

Loki grinned without relenting just a bit, simply leaning into your ear.

“Oh, is that so? What makes you think you can get me, little dove?” he chuckles as he gently traced his fingers over your sides. “And do you assume you can get now, or at some later point when you are not trapped and helpless under me? Because all things considered...that sounds like an empty threat… my dear.”

The self-satisfaction in his tone was infuriating.

“You’re all mine to toy around with right now, little robin…” he said in an almost flirtatious tone.

“N-No! Loki! Don’t you dare!” you squeaked out.

He looked you in your eyes with a devious sparkle in his eyes, those same eyes Loki did whenever he got you involved in a prank that would most likely get both of you in trouble, and he smiled.

“I think, my darling…” he whispered softly, in a way he knew his breath would tingle against your skin. “I very much dare.”

And with that his gentle and nimble fingers reached your stomach, giving it a lot of gentle pokes and scribbling all over the skin poorly covered by your thin shirt with his blunt nails.

He knew that among the long list of insecurities you had, your stomach was high up there, and so he knew certain touches would make you uncomfortable, so he kept his eye on your face, paying extra reactions to see if any touch made you upset. But you seemed more focused on the sensation he inflicted on your sensitive skin, and your expressions didn’t reflect any sign of distress.

“Lohohohoki! Stohohop that!” you giggled.

“Aw… is it too much for you?” he grinned cheekily. “You’re quite the delight to torment though, and I wonder… just how would you manage this sort of attention… on the other areas you were ticklish upon.”

As he spoke he lower his hand to drag his fingers over your waistline from side to side in a maddeningly slow manner. The look of shock on your face was priceless.

“LOKI!” you cried.

“Oh my, my, little sparrow, are you ticklish here too?” he chuckled in an almost innocent tone as his finger slipped past your shirt as his nail scraped lightly over the ticklish spot.

But he did slow down, not enough to make it all stop, but enough to make you go back to soft laughs.

“Hm…” Loki looked at you, pretending to be in deep contemplation. “If I didn’t know you any better, I would dare to assume you are enjoying yourself.”

Loki had seen others in the compound tickle you before, he had tickled you before, and it was noticeable enough that you didn’t seem to mind the playful attention, given you hardly fought back or protested when.

You let out an outraged before a squeeze to your hipbones made you burst into giggles after a clearly involuntary snort that made Loki laugh.

“Oh, no witty back talking?” Loki chuckled.

 “Ihihihi! I’m gohohonna kill you!” you threatened him.

“Will you now?” Loki arched an eyebrow. “And how do you intend to do so?”

Rather than having a verbal response, he felt ticklish squeezing over his thighs and above his knees that made him jolt and bark out a laugh. It was enough distraction to make him stop for a moment, and he saw that little triumphant glint in your gaze.

“That was very very bold of you to make an attack like that...” he congratulated you, his tone menacingly impish. “But so far I had been gentle.”

And with that he shot his fingers onto the exposed hollow of your armpits. You immediately lose it when his fingers reach and tickle your underarms, immediately exploding into loud laughter once more.

“NOHOHOHO! NONONONO! LOKI, LOKI PLEASE! NOHOHOHOT THERE!” you squealed. “NAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHAHAHA! PLEEEEHAHAHAHAAHAHA!”

Your voice turned loud, and the walls literally shook around the two of you. But Loki was unscathed, perhaps a bit stunned by the strength of your voice, but he didn’t relent on the tickling.

“Well, that’s cute… but just for your information…” he smirked in a way that, had you been able to see through your tears of laughter would’ve made you weak in the knees. “I am not afraid of your ticklish little fingers.”

He chuckled again, as his fingers wiggling more sporadically, almost vibrating against your skin. You let out a blood curdling scream before your laughter turns silent, your face is red like a tomato and tears just kept streaming nonstop down your face as your body was shaking like a malfunctioning machine, your entire body language making evident that you need a break.

Perhaps that was a good sign that he had to stop. So, he did.

He raised his knees so you could slip your arms from under his legs, and you immediately pressed them against your chest, laughing silently prey of a giggle fit in a state of euphoria.

“Did I just...go too far?” he asked with a sheepish smile. “...I think...I may have gone too far, I apologize if… if I... I— hmpf!”

Before Loki could register what had happened, you had cupped his face and your lips were against his.

It wasn’t exactly the way Loki had pictured kissing you, and by all the Nine Realms had thought about it quite in detail. But this was… quite different from what he had fantasized. Your faces were upside down one from another, and it had happened so fast that you had just got Loki’s bottom lip at first impact, and he had been caught completely off guard.

But oh Gods… this topped every scenario he could’ve mused. Your lips were soft and smooth, and the taste of you… Norns, it was intoxicating, and it made him feel light-hearted, instinctively making close his eyes as melted into the kiss, leaning over to get a better taste of this paradise he had just encountered. He mimicked you as one of his hands reached to cup your cheek and caress it with his thumb.

Who knows how long you were like this, but it was certainly not enough.

But when you broke the kiss the look in your eyes was of shock and terror as you cupped your hands over your mouth.  Again, not what he would’ve expected. He had not got any complaints in his past about his skills, so he was certain he was not a sloppy kisser to be the sole cause of that expression.

“I— no... I didn’t… I uh… I’m sorry…” you mumbled. “I— I wasn’t, oh no…”

“What are you apologizing for?” Loki asked, as he felt anxiety starting to bubble on the pit of his stomach.

“I— I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me…”  you stuttered and stumbled over your words, “I w-wasn’t thinking… I just… I felt giddy and… No… no, no... I’m sorry…”

Loki felt his brain throbbing inside his skull as you kept sputtering apologizes. A million thoughts rushing over his mind every fraction of a second. Did the kiss meant you liked him? But if you liked him what were you apologizing for? Or did you like him but not enough? Were you aware of all the feelings you stirred in him? Was this a cruel joke?

Before he realized what his body was doing, he had already smashed his mouth onto yours once more.

He wasn’t sure why he did that. Maybe desire. Perhaps just the panic of thinking that could’ve been the last time he tasted something quite as ineffable as you ever again and he refused to give it up so soon. Or he could simply have gone mad. Whatever the reason, he just prayed you didn’t hate him after this.

But to his surprise, you kissed him back, and he felt once again that peculiar wave of peace and simultaneous thrill running through his veins. Now pleasantly complemented by your fingers running through his hair, making him turn into putty in your hands. This time the kiss lasted much longer than the first.

Not that it left Loki quite satisfied… yet.

“S-So… Do I take this as a good sign that you maybe, sort of, kinda like me too?” you asked timidly.

Loki could help but laugh at that.

“I will dare to say so” he rolled his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his face.

“And that we could do that thing again… t-the kissing?”

Norns, his heart was gonna beat out of his chest.

“I would like that” he smiled.

You pressed your lips against his and that rush of excitement ran through him once again. Loki felt your lips buzzing as he heard the muffled laughs through the kiss, it made him laugh as well.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckled.

“Nothing” you giggled, “I just feel your smile.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I feel your smile curled up in a smile.” You explained. “It feels… nice.”

His cheeks lit up and he just shook his head with a smile before diving in for another kiss.

You were right, you could feel the other’s smile when you kissed. How did Loki never notice a detail as simple as that? It felt so lovely. Even more with the little hum-like muffled laughs bubbling from your throat as you kissed. Hearing your happy nervous laughs through the kiss was the loveliest sound he had ever heard.

| Masterpost |

[spidrstar]

A LITTLE BIT MORE

★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader

★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?

★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.

★ w/c: 2k

★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏

“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”

You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.

For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.

You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)

“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.

“Can we please just take a small break?”

“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”

“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”

He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..

“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”

“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.

Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.

He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.

“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.

You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”

Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.

“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”

You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.

“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.

He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.

“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.

You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..

You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.

“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.

“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”

You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.

“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.

“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.

You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”

Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.

“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”

“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“

You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.

“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.

“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.

“Yes you will! I know you!”

“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.

You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.

“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.

“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.

“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.

All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.

“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”

Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.

“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”

“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”

You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.

“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.

“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.

Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.

“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.

“Yes?”

“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.

“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.

“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.

A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;

‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’

‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’

‘What if he thought I was weird?’

‘What if he hates me now?’

Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.

He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.

“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”

You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.

“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.

With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.

Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.

The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.

He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.

“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.

★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||

TAGS:

[whumble-beeee]

You Can Check Out Any Time You Like, But You Can Never Leave

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 14

Content: kidnapping/captivity, noncon drugging, recreational drug use, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[It’s a tale as old as time. You see it so very often in movies, books, YA love stories; The phenomenon known as Stockholm Syndrome, where a captive starts to develop positive feelings for their captor. However, Stockholm Syndrome is not a thing to be feared! Humans are very social creatures, after all, and control over another’s emotions is one of the most powerful thing’s a person can possess, super or not!

This is why you, villain, need to beware it’s the lesser-known counterpart: Lima Syndrome, where the captor becomes sympathetic or develops feelings for their captive. These disorders often develop side-by-side, so be wary and be vigilant! Developing Lima Syndrome may lead you to make rash decisions about your captured hero, cloud your judgment, allow your hero to take advantage of you, or even allow them to escape! Do not let your captured hero control you like you control them. You are jailor and prisoner. Nothing more.]

* * * * * * * *

Declan gawked at the Villain Brand tattoo staining Stan's back. The one he could finally see unimpeded now that he'd literally pinned the guy down and stripped him. The one Stan had fought so hard to hide.

“Holy shit…”

The ID number. He knew that number from so long ago. And Level 4 super. Manipulator power type. Social Designation Black.

Supervillain: Incarcerated for power-related crimes.

… and blue.

Test subject.

He fucking knew it.

He knew it.

It was that girl. That one from the raid that happened, what… ten years ago now? Longer? The one he’d found hiding with the toddler. One he saved, one he couldn’t. Fuck, man, he’d risked everything for that toddler. A little sister. A moment of weakness, or what some would call a moment of strength.

Stan had a little sister. Chloe. That was her name. That was the toddler’s name too.

She was still safe. She was still alive.

Thank fuck. 

Declan hadn't even realized at first because, well, the guy was a dude now. And an adult. There were no records on him, period, so he couldn’t go back to look before now, and his superiors certainly never deigned to tell him anything. Thanks Lana, fuck you Vaughn.

Though he’d been suspicious for a while. It all just clicked into place with that last piece of the puzzle: why Stan had no records, why he didn’t legally exist, the way he fought back no matter how impossible the odds were, that nagging feeling that he knew this kid from somewhere, the similarities between his and the girl’s powers, not to mention those weird looks he kept catching out of the corner of his eye, the way Stan has said something about protecting ‘her’ in his fit earlier, the concealment of his transness, the recognition in Stan’s eyes since the start–...

Oh.

Declan smiled.

Oh, Stan already knew. 

He knew, and he kept it to himself.

On purpose.

That conniving little fucker.

 “What? What holy shit?” Stan squirmed weakly under Declan, demanding his attention back as always, stuttering like he did always did whenever he got scared or angry. He even tried briefly to twist around to look at the man seated on top of him, only before immediately giving up and laying his head back down on the floor.

Declan rolled his eyes and held back a chuckle at the poor little guy as he tossed out some half-assed excuse he didn't even bother remembering, then grabbed his phone to take a picture of the brand. He’d definitely have to bring the uh… dishonesty up. But later. Stan was much too high for any of that right now. 

Though it did feel a little bit gross to take a picture of Stan like this while he was drugged, especially with how much he’d fought Declan about the brand earlier and especially after Declan had forcefully stripped the guy. But Declan needed proof.

None of it even mattered in the long run, anyway. Declan still had a job to do.

“Yeah… maybe you should…” Stan retorted loosely into the floor. “Not… Aheh, uh, throw me… to–... walls anymore…” 

Declan nearly burst out laughing.

Yeah. Maybe.

Maybe Stan should consider that next time he's being a little shit.

He pulled the white shirt back over Stan's head with some large amount of difficulty, and probably much more swearing than necessary since Stan may as well have been a floppy fish weakly squirming against the floor at this point. Then picked him up with one arm under the stomach, tugged the oversized white shirt down over his skinny little twink body, and then, with a sigh, let him drop unceremoniously back onto the floor and went to retrieve a plastic water bottle from his little plastic grocery bag, patting himself on the back for a job well done. He’d successfully de-bindered Stan without seeing the kid’s stupid man tits. Hooray! All that work to specifically pin him down on his stomach so they'd be hidden from Declan’s gaze, all because of Stan’s incessant fighting about it before. The things I do for my captures, he thought.

He was not looking forward to the indefinite amount of time he’d have to keep doing this.

“We don’t know how long, love,” Lana had said over the phone, “That fiancé of his doesn’t believe he’s dead, and you better believe he'll raise hell about it, the poor man. There’s probably going to be some extra ‘convincing’, paperwork, you know how it is. He can’t be here. Just hold onto the little guy until we get everything cleared up.”

So that was that. No argument. Just indefinite babysitting of a very unwilling baby.

Declan walked back over to hold the bottle out to Stan before he even fully agonized himself back up off his stomach, and yet somehow, miraculously, he still managed to do that skitter backward that he always did when Declan got even remotely close to him

He crouched down and shoved the bottle into Stan’s hands. “Drink,” he ordered. “Not too fast though.”

Stan looked in bewilderment at the bottle. Almost like he couldn't believe something so sacred could just be thrust within his grasp like that. Then his brow furrowed. He popped open the cap and sniffed it, then glared angrily at both the container of liquid and the person who’d given it to him. “Don’ want your stupid–”

“It’s not drugged. You haven’t drank water in almost three days, you’re gonna die. Drink it, NOT–!”

Half the water already disappeared, drained down Stan’s throat. Declan scrambled and snatched the water out of his grasp. “Not too fast! Christ, you’re gonna throw up!”

“But– But…” He smacked his lips, shook himself off like a dog from the water that spilled on him from Declan’s snatch, then gaped for a moment around the room as he once again seemed to remember the concrete and the chains that held him prisoner. “Fine. Who cares? Protein bar’sss-ssstupid anyway.”

Eh. Fair enough. To be honest, after the like, eight protein bars Declan’d had over the past few days, he was also pretty sick of them. He’d get them both some actual food later. 

With that task half-done, he stashed the half-empty bottle in his back pocket. “You can have the rest in a bit,” he told the wet cat of a human he was still inexplicably in charge of. Stan’s shoulders drooped. He just nodded, eyes affixed to one specific spot on the empty opposing wall.

Declan looked around at the mess of torture implements strewn about the room. Anything else he needed to do before they left?

Oh… 

Yeah, right.

“You need to go to the bathroom, runt?”

Stan's eyes shot up to his captor, then settled there for just a moment. Then drifted away into the middle distance for a longer moment. Narrowed his eyes slightly. Declan just about took that as a signal that he needed to save Stan from an apparant stroke when his head shook a slow and conspiratorial ‘no’. 

Declan rolled his eyes, already producing a hairpin out of his hair to click open Stan's ankle fetter, then pulled him to unsteady feet and guided him out the door to the dinky little bathroom at the end of the hallway. Stan didn't even struggle as Declan held him up, too busy ogling at the apparent novelty of being out in the hallway without running for his life.

“Five minutes,” he told Stan, depositing the vacant-stared man in the bathroom. Then he shut the door, started the count somewhere in the back of his mind, and went back to the torture room to clean up so they could finally head home.

God, he felt like shit.

Almost as bad as the kid looked, actually, which was saying something because little Stanny looked pretty fucked.

He was just tired. They both were, actually, that's why Stan had to be drugged. Sure, Declan enjoyed putting him in his place, but after the fifth time, after nearly three days of this, after almost two nights of no sleep, another prospective sleepless night of driving, double the usual amount of G to compensate for that, probably not enough food or water himself, and Stan still testing his patience at every turn… yeah, Stan needed to stop. For both their sakes. Mostly his own, if he valued still having at least one working knee.

Declan meandered over to Stan’s shredded former grey button-down and swooped it up off the ground, inspecting the damage Vaughn caused with those shiny steel surgical scissors of his. The shirt couldn’t even be recognised as a shirt anymore. Just a mess of crumpled fabric lying miserably on the floor, kinda like Stan had done for most of time he’d been here.

Vaughn was gonna rip that poor kid apart.

It wouldn’t be neat and clean like the persona that creep worked so hard to maintain, either. He usually waited until at least the drop-off before shining his true colors as a giant fucking creep in the safety of his creep-ass torture lab. Never directly in front of Declan, and certainly not outside of his jurisdiction like this. Sure, Declan was a piece of shit, but that man’s shittiness truly defied all modern interpretations of physics.

Although…

Declan pulled out his phone to stare at the picture of the hero brand again. Proof of his suspicions. Proof of identity. Proof of both their past misfortunes. Proof that also happened to contain evidence of the brand new abuse Declan had caused over any old scars that had long since faded. With Stan’s now bare back sporting a very mottled score of blacks and dark, painful blues and tender purples and even some fading greens and yellows and reds of all kinds: dark, smeared, and caked burgundy blood, or the bright, raised welts. Definitely a couple of broken ribs in there too. Not to mention all the distress peeking out from under that damn collar, the probably several concussions, the emotional turmoil, the mental distress that danced across his face every time Declan so much as stepped in his direction.

All of that was his doing, huh? Not Vaughn’s, save the missing shirt and the single clean slash running along his jawline. 

Declan.

He twirled his gun around his middle finger, relishing the way it fell so cleanly back into his grasp, the thump of the wooden grip against his hand and the shining, perfectly balanced metal.

Oh well.

Those were just their roles;

Hero and villain. 

Predator and prey.

Bounty hunter and captive.

Stan knew the rules of the game. He'd been given a choice to comply every time. Every time. And every time, he chose to fight. 

So Declan didn’t feel all that bad about it.

Four minutes gone by.

He needed to get back.

He did one last check over of the room, put the chain away, placed the chair back, got all the rope and weapons and even Stan’s crapped-up shirt, and put it all in his plastic bag. Then he went ahead and put on his hat and bandana again, because he’d be damned if he broke any more of the rules that kept him alive in this business for ten years and counting. Then headed back down the hall to the bathroom.

And to a not-at-all-surprising Stan who was agonizingly slowly and painfully and single-mindedly mading his way down the hall. Step by wall-assisted, unstable, limping step.

Did he even go to the bathroom?

Declan wasn’t going to check that. Stan could suffer if he didn’t.

“Stan! Really, runt?” he called out, tromping over to the captive. Stan jolted violently and loosely spun around with a loud squeak, except his feet forgot to move along with the rest of him and sent him crashing and clawing into the wall for any semblance of support. A look of pure unadulterated fear cascaded down his features. No defiance. No anger. Just wide-eyed, breath-taking, heart-pounding, fist-clenching fear.

Declan didn't even say anything. Stan stumbled backward as Declan got closer and landed wrong on his bad leg, enough to cause a cry of pain that almost unbelievably slowly turned into a battle with gravity that ended with Stan crumpled on the floor. Stan groaned and yelled in frustration. Then slapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide, shaking. For a moment, Declan could only see the lurching of his body as he curled in on himself, then the shaking turned more into heaving, shallow, impossibly quick breaths, and as Declan got closer, it became very clear that it wasn’t just crying or whatever, but laughing, quietly cackling while clutching at his bad knee, whispering “ow, ow” to himself in between giggling heaves.

Declan took a deep breath. He didn’t have the heart to punish him about the escape attempt, if you could even call it that. Or the energy. Pick one.

Stan’s gaze shot up to him, straining against the stupid collar that rendered the admittedly very powerful super helpless. Tears shone in his red and dilated eyes, sparkling in the fluorescent light, a smile stretched and cracking across his face like a long-rotted jack-o-lantern still left out three weeks after Halloween.

Then dropped completely.

“Please don't hurt me,” he whispered, shuddering.

No.

No, he begged.

Like something out of a horror movie.

Some weird sense of subdued panic and revulsion wove through Declan’s chest, a feeling he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. Then just a sense of overwhelming weariness at the pitiful sight.

They both needed a break, didn't they?

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he conceded softly, pulling the half-empty water bottle back out of his pocket and placing it into Stan’s shaking hands. “Not now, anyway. Drink the rest of this, yeah?”

Stan simply clutched it, never once moving his unfocused and bloodshot gaze from his jailor. Declan sighed, grabbed the bottle and carefully twisted the cap off, and even more carefully lifted Stan’s death grip up to his lips so he could drink. The whole ordeal reminded him of taking care of a drunk friend, way back when. Except they weren’t friends. 

After a tentative pause and an immensely encouraging and monotone “it’s not poisoned, don’t drink too fast,” from Declan, he swallowed the first tentative sip. 

His entire body untensed, practically melting into the wall. He drank until the entire bottle disappeared in his shaking hands, head lolling all the way back to let gravity gift him those last few drops as it crushed to practically nothing

“Ya done?” Declan asked languidly. 

Stan nodded.

“Good. I’m gonna tie your hands behind your back now, and then we’re goin’ out to my car, and we're leaving.” He explained slowly. “If you can behave yourself, you can sit in the passenger seat. Otherwise, you’re goin’ in the trunk. Agreed?”

“B-but-but–”

“Agreed, chiquito?”

Stan looked around the room as if desperately searching for the answer. Then nodded.

“Great. Also, that's what she said,” he chuckled

Oh, he was definitely delirious.

Stan didn’t even fight him this time as he yanked the man up and turned him around to cuff him. He barely even stood, practically limp, swaying on his feet, with the only thing keeping him standing being his single locked knee and Declan’s occasional shoves that kept him from leaning too far in any one direction.

Declan didn’t like drugged Stan. Even if it was funnier, easier. He'd rather Stan fight him, because that'd at least show he's able.

Though the real Stan would be back in another 12 hours or so, and by then he’d probably be missing drugged Stan just as much.

He pressed the captive into his side for support without even checking if he could walk on his own, because he obviously couldn’t, then made a mental note to get Stan a temporary cane later. He felt so small, so… nonconcrete, pressed into Declan’s side, forced to rely him to do something as simple as walking. 

So squishy. Fragile. Breakable. He almost couldn’t believe that the person giggling and drooling into his precious leather jacket was the very same as the one he’d spent night and day staking out to find the perfect way to capture, making sure he accounted for every detail, everything that could possibly go wrong, because in every scenario if things didn’t go exactly according to plan, Stan would absolutely crush Declan into a fine paste before he let him get anywhere near him.

He couldn’t dwell on those differences now. He couldn’t mourn the fates of all the people he captured. It broke the rules, the rules that kept Declan alive, and it wouldn’t be fair to all the supers that came before Stan; Those who never had anyone to mourn them, and those forced to continue living in a special type of hell even as their loved ones mourned their deaths, accepted it, and moved on. Even as their own selves died, and yet their bodies kept on living anyway.

He couldnt dwell on it unless he wanted to become one of them himself. Metaphorically. Literally. Who even cared anymore? He was too tired for this. Not thinking sounded like a great idea right about now.

Declan shoved Stan into the passenger seat of his truck, practically threw him, actually, then rummaged through the glovebox until he found the little baggie filled with those special little white pills and popped one in his mouth

Wonderful. Great.

He buckled Stan’s seatbelt for him after a brief confusion when Declan told him to, but he realized he couldn’t and got very upset and scared and started shaking again before Declan just went ahead and did it for him.

Declan slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition, relishing the rumbling sound of the motor reverberating through his chest as it roared to life. His head already felt clearer. The world a little brighter, despite the bright crisp orange of the setting sun dyeing the sky an ever-darkening, gorgeous mixture of hot pinks and burnt oranges and burning reds, spanning unimpeded except by whisping grey clouds breaking the harmony of the dusk-washed light. Then the stars, near invisible speckles, sparse at first, teasing even, until they slowly and inevitably beckoned forth the darker violets and deep indigos and what looked to be the purest of blacks broken up by the sprinkling of the purest white stars, soon to be a cavalcade too numerous to ever count.

So big, all-encompassing. 

Light years away, unencumbered by the existence of humanity.

Even Stan couldn’t help but stare in the silence.

Deeby let out a deep breath.

“Alright, bud. Let’s head home.”

* * * * * * * *

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