#wondering how exactly that would be. and then i realised well i Might Have An Idea.

[hsslilly-blog]

claire does not wear flat shoes. she's always in heels

[themultifanshipper]

Soo I'd like to request Lando ...taming his little bratty girlfriend after date night.....with lots of unholy activities. Be creative and spontaneous...iykyk

You were thrown mercilessly onto the bed, Lando climbing over you and ripping open your dress to mouth at your tits.

“You've been fucking with me all night. Now it's my turn to fuck you until you scream”

Warnings: Dom Lando, sub reader, very bdsm guys, dirty talking, masturbation, restraints, use of multiple toys, PinV sex, PinA sex (technically), anal, oral, creampie, spit, choking, slapping, spanking, subspace, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, crying, honestly it would be shorter to say what's NOT in this fic

Okay, maybe you'd been a bit of a brat during date night. But who could blame you? You had the sexiest boyfriend ever, and he'd decided to wear your favorite suit.

Yeah, that one. The one he knew drove you absolutely wild for him.

So you decided to wear his favourite dress in retaliation. The one that went a bit too low and showed off a bit too much. It was his favourite colour too, and seeing it on you made him feral.

That was strike one.

Strike two was slapping his ass when he got up to go to the bathroom at dinner, in front of Charles and Alex, who you were on a double date with.

He glared at you before turning on his heel and storming off, but he still heard you giggling with the others behind his back.

Strike three was sliding your hand into his lap and slowly inching towards his rapidly growing bulge.

At first he let you indulge, wondering how far you would go, and your hand squeezed him through his slacks, getting him hard as a rock.

He was nothing if not an exhibitionist, but doing this in front of his friends was a bit much.

It's when your hand actually slid into his underwear suddenly that his knee jerked and hit the table, causing a slight distraction while he ripped your hand away and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Strike four was pressing yourself all over Charles while hugging him goodbye. Charles was clueless, and Alex was quite amused by your antics that were obviously meant to rile up your boyfriend.

Strike five was when you pressed him against his car in the parking lot and slid your thigh between his, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, he rather liked being manhandled, but for the fact that there were paparazzi outside the restaurant and they got few shots of you two almost fucking on his car. And he knew you'd done it on purpose.

Strike six was when you tried your shit again in the car, trying to get him hard while he was driving, but he quickly shut that down and growled at you to wait until you got home.

Which led to strike seven. You decided to be even more of a little shit and start touching yourself in the car.

At first he didn't realise what you were doing, thinking that you putting your feet up on the dash was just to stretch your legs and get comfortable.

But when you spread them and he saw your hand trail down your leg, he gripped the wheel tight and took another steadying deep breath.

But it was impossible to ignore the wet sounds of your fingers inside your needy cunt as you thrusted them fast and hard to get his attention.

“I know what you're doing” he said casually, looking at the buildings pass by.

You hummed, slowing down your movements. “What's that?”

“You're trying to get me to pull over and fuck you, but it's not going to work. So why don't you pump those fingers some more and let me hear how desperate and wet you are for me”

You did as you were told and even added a third finger, stretching yourself out and moaning unabashedly next to him.

“Look at the state of you. Such a greedy fucking slut you couldn't even wait until we got home. Well you know what's waiting for you when we get there, right?”

You gasped. He knew exactly what his words were doing to you and you knew exactly what he was talking about.

Might as well enjoy yourself in the car while you still could.

Your other hand went down to your clit and rubbed it in tight little circles, just how you like it.

Your soft sounds of pleasure were driving Lando mad, but he managed to hold on to the steering wheel and not do anything stupid. The wait would be worth it in the end.

He could tell you were getting close by the little puffed out moans you were making, and he smirked.

“You want to come so bad, don't you?”

Your head snapped in his direction and you looked at him with puppy eyes. He refused to look at you.

“Yes, I'm so close. Please can I come?” you panted.

He chuckled “I'm not stopping you baby, if you want to come go ahead”

You let out a soft moan of triumph.

“But, if you come I'm not touching you for a month”

Your hips stuttered and you whined. “Nooo why?”

“Because baby, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to come on their own fingers”

You squirmed in the seat. “Please! I promise I'll be good.”

He laughed at you “we both know that's an empty promise. You're too much of a brat to stick to your word”

You huffed like a child as you retreated your fingers and crossed your legs.

“You're so fucking mean”

There was a pregnant pause while he turned in to the underground parking garage.

“And that's strike eight. You sure you want to keep going?”

You eyes widened. Fuck. Eight already??

“No” you mumbled.

“No what?” he snapped.

“No, sir” you whimpered at his tone.

“That's better, now get out of the car”

Everything between that and him ripping your dress of was a blur.

But the threat of the eight strikes was ever-present in your mind.

One might think eight strikes meant eight spanks. But Lando had learned early on in your relationship that spanking you was useless, you enjoyed the pain way too much for it to be a punishment.

No, eight strikes meant eight orgasms.

And up to now you had only ever managed up to six.

As the dress lay discarded on the floor, Lando noted your lack of underwear and growled.

He sat back on his heels, and admired you from above, nothing but awe in his eyes.

“So fucking beautiful. Shame you're such a needy brat.”

You whimpered and he got off you to get a couple of things from the bedside drawer.

A bottle of lube, a ribbon to tie your hands to the headboard with, and then he paused, looking at the other contents of the drawer, wondering which ones he was going to use tonight.

You and Lando had amassed quite a collection of toys in there.

He finally decided on a vibrating plug, a dildo and vibrating wand.

He was going to need to be creative if he was going to get you to eight tonight.

The first orgasm was easy, his mouth was enough to bring you to your peak in no time, you having been on edge ever since dinner, and he even let you thread your hands through his hair to ground yourself while he devoured you like a man starved.

You lay there panting as he got the ribbon and tied your hands to the headboard.

“And what do we say after an orgasm?”

“Thank you sir” you replied diligently.

“Good girl”

He wasted no time diving back in with his mouth, paying special attention to your oversensitive clit with his tongue, making you writhe in his hold when you suddenly felt him slide three fingers in.

His fingers were quite a bit larger than yours and the stretch was delicious and it didn't take you much time at all to get to your second orgasm.

You barely had time to recover from that one before he turned on the plug and slid it through your folds, carefully avoiding your clit as you squirmed.

He started pushing it in, bit by bit until it was nestled in the wet heat of your pulsing cunt.

It was just barely grazing your g-spot and you let out a frustrated huff, the stimulation not quite enough.

“If you think this is going to make me come then you're sorely mista- Ah!”

The slap echoed in the empty room. Your eyes widened as pain blossomed across your puffy lips.

A couple of seconds passed in silence and he slapped your cunt again, this time catching the plug and you jolted as it pressed against your g-spot for a split second.

“Brat”

Another slap, this time right on your clit and you yelped as your thighs tried to close of their own volition.

Lando spread your legs roughly and pressed them to your chest.

“Keep your legs open” his voice was threatening as he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

Another slap. You cried out as the pain made wetness pool out of you and Lando laughed darkly.

“Look at you practically gushing around the plug. You're enjoying this aren't you slut?”

You couldn't even respond as he slapped you again, and again, and at every slap you just got wetter and wetter until you could feel it dripping over your rim and down your crack.

Lando's thumb came to collect some of the wetness and sucked it into his mouth.

“So sweet for me”

He slapped you again and you keened, you were so close to coming again it was embarrassing. You shouldn't be getting off on this kind of pain but there you were, about to come from him slapping your most sensitive parts.

“Lando! I'm gonna come!” you cried out.

“Good, do it. You're going to have to if we want you to get to eight” he smirked evilly and you whimpered at the thought.

His thumb trailed downwards again and stopped right on your puckered hole, just slightly rubbing the wetness around it and it only took one last slap, and a slight breach from his thumb for you to come, wailing as he used the distraction to slide his thumb in completely.

He took the plug out and turned it off. But didn't put it down as his thumb thrusted in and out of you gently.

He added a small amount of lube before sliding another finger in, then two.

He pulled them out after he deemed you sufficiently stretched, you were still shaking from your previous orgasm, and he pushed the tip of the plug in. It had been a while since you'd had something so thick back there and you let out a breath as he slid another inch in.

One more inch and you were halfway there, pulsing around the silicone as your empty cunt throbbed.

The flared base took some doing but he finally pushed it in gently, the plug popping into place as you gasped at the feeling of being full, but not quite full enough and you whined at Lando.

He chuckled. “So fucking greedy, wanna turn over for me love?” he asked as he untied your wrists.

You did so, settling on your elbows as you spread your legs behind you, exposing the plug to Lando.

He gave it a quick tug just to make you keen before taking the dildo and lubing it up.

It wasn't anything special, certainly not as big as Lando, but it was enough.

He slapped it against your clit once to get your attention, and carefully pushed the tip in.

It wasn't enough and you wiggled your hips to get him to hurry up which just earned you a sharp slap on your left cheek in response.

Your giggle quickly turned into a moan as he thrusted the dildo in at an angle so it rammed into your g-spot.

Yeah this motherfucker knew what he was doing.

He grinded it into that spot repeatedly and your arms quickly gave out, making you face plant into the pillows.

He just laughed meanly as your muffled wails reached his ears and he carried on.

“So good, Lando fuck!”

His hand landed another sharp smack to you ass.

“That's not my name darling” he chided.

“Yes sir, sorry”

“Good girl”

He turned the plug back on and the vibrations made your eyes roll back into your skull and you drooled over the pillow as the pleasure overtook you. For the fourth time you came, this time feeling the burn of the pleasure starting to border on pain.

He turned the plug off and pulled it out gently, making sure not to hurt you and set it to the side for the time being.

The sight of your hole clenching around nothing made him growl and he grabbed your cheeks, spreading them and spitting right on your greedy hole.

You felt utterly boneless as the dildo was also removed, but before you could feel too empty it was shoved back into you, in your ass this time.

You reached a hand back for Lando to squeeze and he did.

“Colour?” he checked.

“Green. So fucking green” you rasped and he chuckled.

“Good, because we're only halfway done, baby”

He put a hand on your upper back and pushed you into the mattress as he got into position to push his cock into your weeping cunt.

He was quite a bit bigger than the dildo and you cried out at the stretch as he started a relentless pace with his hips, while gripping the base of the dildo to drag it in and out of you at the same pace.

Your body was useless as you lay there and took it, pleasure coming in waves and you got closer and closer in record time as Lando felt you tighten around him.

“God you're such a good girl when you can't speak.” He groaned, hips stuttering “Taking it so well, like you were made for it, fuck-”

The praise made your head swim and you felt your body shake with the pleasure of your fifth orgasm taking over you.

Lando slowed down, pulling out the dildo first, then his own cock and helped you turn around so that he could see you.

He grapped a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them up and he noticed your eyes were slightly unfocused.

“You okay babygirl?”

“yeee” you slurred and he chuckled.

He picked up the wand and turned it on, dragging it across your body, passing over your sensitive nipples, making you squirm, and all the way down to your puffy, neglected clit.

Your reaction was immediate as the vibrations sent sparks flying throughout your body, toes curling at the intense pleasure.

But it was nothing compared to the feeling of Lando's thick cock pushing back into your cunt and he angled his thrusts upwards to knock into your g-spot.

You were so out of it you didn't register the different kind of pressure building in your gut until it was too late.

The first stream took Lando by surprise and he felt himself let out a spurt of his own before hammering into you as hard as he could.

That, plus the intense vibration on your clit made you squirt all over him, leaving the two of your lower halves dripping as you cried in overstimulation and he pumped you full of him as shudders wracked his body.

“So good baby, good girl squirting all over yourself, god-”

You didn't respond, taking a bit longer to come down from this one than the others.

“Good to carry on?”

You replied with a noise that was somewhere between a wail and a groan that he knew well enough by now basically meant ‘yep all good’.

He quickly took another smaller vibrating plug out of the drawer (yeah, you had a collection) and slipped it into you, making sure you were nice and plugged full of his cum. He switched it on and angled it upwards into your g-spot and tears streamed down your cheeks at the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

He then took the wand and circled it over your clit.

You yelled and he leaned over you to wrap a hand around your throat, which made your eyes roll back into your head and and let out a high pitched whine.

“So good for me baby, you look so fucking sexy, all full of my cum. I love you so much, you're nearly there. You can do one more for me can't you?”

Just as your orgasm was about to crash over you you cried out and your hips bucked up.

“Yes daddyyy-”

Lando’s dick twitched as he watched you fall apart under him, knowing you only called him daddy when you were deep under and numb with pleasure.

He turned the plug off, deciding to leave it in until he could get you in the shower.

He turned off the wand and put it to one side, he could clean everything once the sheets were changed and you were sound asleep.

That was only seven, but it was already a record and he didn't want to push you and accidentally hurt you.

He lay down next to you and his fingers traced patterns over your skin, mouth planting sweet kisses all over your face as you came back to him, the fog slowly clearing from your mind.

Once you were present enough, he kissed you deeply and held you close.

“You did so good for me darling, so fucking good. I'm so proud of you”

You all but purred as you cuddled into his embrace, starting to feel all the sticky lube and juices that you were both covered in.

You giggled. “We need to shower but I don't think my legs are working”

“In that case” Lande kissed you again “why don't I run us a bath?”

“Sounds good”

He got to work, starting off the bath, then put all the toys in the bathroom sink and started cleaning them while the tub slowly filled up.

Once it was full, he carried you to the bath, sitting you up so that he could slide in behind you and lean you back onto his chest.

His hands wandered over you as you soaked in the hot water, and once your mind was cleared completely, you turned your head to kiss him properly and run your hands through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands causing him to moan into the kiss.

You could feel him get hard behind you and you giggled.

“How many did I do?”

“Seven, baby. New record” he smiled at you and leaned back in for a kiss but you stopped him.

“I though we were doing eight?”

“Yeah, but the seventh took everything out of you and I didn't want to push you any harder”

Affection bloomed in your chest as his hands carried on roaming your skin.

“I love you. But I really was a brat earlier, I think I can go one more”

You glanced at the toys on the side of the sink and Lando followed your gaze.

“What are you fancying, love?”

You reached over and grabbed the wand, that happened to be waterproof, then settled on Lando's lap with your back to his chest.

“I want you inside me for a start” you removed the plug that was still inside you and sank down onto him quickly, making you both groan into each other’s mouths as you twisted around again to kiss lazily.

You turned the wand on and put it under the water, right on your clit.

It was like heaven, the hot water around you soothing, yet making the sensations so much more intense and you moved in sync with Lando, rolling your hips as he thrusted gently in and out of you.

He was so on edge he came before you, filling you up again and the feeling of him throbbing inside you pushed you over the edge and you squealed as your body slumped back against him.

You couldn't move so he took the wand and turned it off, throwing it back in the sink before wrapping his arms around you and kissing up and down your neck and shoulders.

“There you go” you said sleepily “eight strikes” you turned around in his arms, and you both dissolved into giggles and kissed sloppily, content in each other’s arms.

Next time, you would definitely manage to get nine strikes

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 20/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@funnybadger868 ha chiesto:wait so if mk can hear macaques past can he hear wukongs for example the circlet and the spell

Yeah he could. It's now just a matter of if he wants to use this power ever again

@cryptic-theseus ha chiesto:you're paying for my therapy btw, the bill is on the way

Blame it on the gay monkies not me. It's bc of them that my life is ruined/hj

@ayrza ha chiesto:Hey!I have an important question, where do you get your sources for the AU👉🏻👈🏻p? I mean, I just recently entered the LMK fandom and I see that there are parts that are not mentioned much in the series and it frustrates me because I feel like I only watch the anime but I'm missing the manga 🫠I love your art and your work, it's amazing 🫰🏻✨

Hi! Well I' finishing to read Journey to the West (im at chapter 80) and if I need extra info or just check I go to the fandom wiki.

@feyqueen91 feyqueen91 ha chiesto:A question for your Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (btw, I just saw your recent post for More Than A Successor Arc & I thought something light hearted was needed to even out the Angst), is Macaque able to summon something like what Red Son did with the Samadhi Sprite, and he teaches MK to do it too?

Wait what exactly? I haven't understood what you meant by sprite.

@og-glitch-punk ha chiesto: Honestly I expect this to be hidden but i also love your work on both comics, keep it up!! I forgot their names but dude- how would the lotus prince and our moon chef feels about wukong and Macaque being MK's parents? HELL. WHAT ABOUT THE TRIO? YELLOW TUSK, PENG AND THE LOIN (CANT REMMEBER HIS NAME EVEN IF HE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD/GONE). Hell even this chaotic snake man may even use MK to his advantage with the fact he is the child of Wukong and Macaque. So many possibilities and guesses, so many twists and turns we will never know bro

Oh he absolutely woud. Also about the others. They would probably act like protective aunt/uncles to that poor traumatised boy.

@thenerdnico ha chiesto:Oh my GODS that last bio dad's chapter broke me, your expressions are always amazing. I'm going to assume that at the end of Wukong's and Macaque's fight, Wukong realised Macaque wasn't moving and ran up to him, and ended up sobbing and screaming when he realised he was dead??? If that is the case, do you think MK listened to it long enough to hear that as well?

Oh for angst reason yes. He did.

@shadowpeachera ha chiesto:AHHHH YOUR SHADOWPEACH BIO AU IS SOO GOOD!!!! I SCREAMED AT THE LAST UPDATE!!! I have a question though. You know in the series i think season 3 epsiode 5 where Wukong goes into a deep mystic monkey meditation, yeah. Well i was wondering if Mk has ever tried that but got disrupted and lost his memories or started acting strange infront of his monkey parents. It would be hilarious i can imagine him shouting, “TUDI, TUDI!”KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK, no pressure though! HAVE A GOOD DAY!

Lmaooo ok ok I don't think I'll go witha small amnesia arc in the AU but this doeß sound adorable.

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto:It will probably be quite heavy, but I suggest that after Wukong saw the monkey like that he had a huge attack of guilt and anxiety and ended up injuring his left eye with his claws

Poor baby!! Nono don't worry his eye is fine.

@raylamoongirl ha chiesto:question for macaque: what was the hardest thing to teach Mk?Lmk bio parents Q&A

Mmmm so they tried really hard to teach him shadow teleportation, but he seems to not be able to do it.

@lmkobsessedmoth ha chiesto:For the Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU What if macaque and wukong go on a date and wukong doesn’t know it’s a date because he’s as dense as the rock he hatched out of

He truly would be. May the gods give him a clue or smt otherwise we wont end up nowhere here

Anonimo ha chiesto:Hey!I love your Shadowpeach bio Parent's AU But I Wonder,Does Wukong and Macaque already dance together before?

Danced??? I think so?? When they still were lovers friends I think (i think i m missing something)

Anonimo ha chiesto:I am on my knees, heart giving out, HOW IS BABY MK SO CUTE AND SHADOWPEACH SO ALLERGIC TO JUST KISSING ALREADY LIKE COME ON YOU TWO Anonimo ha chiesto:When I read the other part where swk and mac where talking about wanting MK to view them as parents at first I thought swk was proposing having another kid with Mac and I went “WOAH HEY- HOLD UP FOR A SECOND THERE U NEED TO GET UR SHT TOGETHER FIRST” and thank god it wasn’t that I thought swk was JUMPING AND ACCELERATING THEIR PROGRESS LMAOOOSo I’m actually glad they are taking baby steps, they need them

This slowburn is gonna be so slow-burning you all are gonna die when they actually kiss (will they kiss? Oh that's just for me to know ahah)

Anonimo ha chiesto:Since macaque is called mama by mk does that mean macaque is like a mother figure to mk in your au mama macaque is adorable and he gives off motherly in his character

Anonimo ha chiesto:Whos mom if there is considered a mom by MK or only dads? Is it Wu or Mac? My headcanons is Wukong basically the mom cuz he gives off mom and dad vibes together and Macaque just gives off dad vibes to me

He gives more motherly vibes, yes (Mamacaque and DadWukong forever)

Anonimo ha chiesto:Hi in you bio parent au for monkie kid how were monkey king and macaque as teenagers when they had a good relationship were like they a romantic couple or had secret crushes on each other and never told each other or were they just friends love this au it's amazing

Oh I think they were definitely lovers once. And that makes their past and what happened even more tragic honestly.

@ayrza ha chiesto:I don't know who is more adorable: Baby MK or Macaque and Wukong blushingPsd. I love your AU and your art 💖

Both. Both is good

@diamondwolf23 ha chiesto:THOSE TWO BETTER KISSSSSSSSSSS-I’m gonna miss Baby Mk ;-

Me too. Me too.

Anonimo ha chiesto:You could say Wukong is a...... simpian?(like simian but yknow >>)

LMAO YES

@scififeather21 ha chiesto:You can't believe how much I love your Shadowpeach AU comic series that last part made me grin so much. Mostly because my husband and I have done that exact thing when our kids were small babies and the looks and smiles were the same too. OMG it such a nice thing to see after a long day at work yesterday. :)

THAT'S THE- SWEETEST THING?????? LIKE IM SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MAKE IT A SIMILAR EXPERIENCE???? TO HEAR IT'S THE SAME THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER

@snsp6 ha chiesto:I love ur bio dads au! I wanted to ask what would happen if smth similar to the baby mk incident happened to the immortal monkeys.Like either they were de-aged to their youth or had an amnesia rules type of situation!(I am in love w the world building in this!!! And ur art is delectable!)

I don't thing the world would be ready for non-reformed Wukong#like-#not really reformed but the guy killed so many people bc of impulsiveness#until he learned that murder is not fine

Anonimo ha chiesto: This might be a stupid question, but for your bio parents, AU is MK just always in his monkey form, or is this just how he permanently looks now?

He's on his monkey form when he trains / stays at the weekends at FFM or when he friendly duels/train with Mei and Red Son.On weekdays he's constantly in his human form

@meisawkwardashecc ha chiesto:Is Wukong potentially shorter than Macaque? 👀🥺Avatar

Yes

@miraclecactus ha chiesto:Can you show us what's going on in the Freenoodles house? I'm looking forward to knowing how they manage to calm MK down :( Puedes mostrarnos que es lo que sucede en la casa de Freenoodles? Estoy ansiosa de conocer como ellos manejan el como calmar a MK :(

They used Wukong and Mac advices until he feel asleep.

Anonimo ha chiesto:I like how Wukong asks Macaque how he knows MK won't hate him after this. Like my guy, you literally killed Macaque, and he still hangs around I think he knows a thing or two

True. Although let Wukong be the dumbass he is.

alizardonfire ha chiesto:I love the idea of macaque being wukongs *rock* if that makes sense? It gives so much character to him.

Aaaahh ty! Yeah I feel like he's pretty good at understanding when he s just out of his mind and bring him back to earth.

Anonimo ha chiesto:If this isn't to much spoiler will the next lmk comic be angsty

This will be answered too late but I will always warn you in advance if there s angst coming.

Anonimo ha chiesto:I love your art! Lighthearted question since your about to bring the pain- do you think Mac and Wu fight over who gets to be little spoon/big spoon or are both of them 100% happy with Mac as big spoon and Wu as little spoon every night

So as for now, they are good with Wukong being the little spoon. Both bc Wukong is the the one who constantly craves for touch amd bc Macaque feels more comfortable in a position of "control" let's say. He can decide how much closer or not to get to Wukong.

Then in the future they would be more comfortable to switch (and the bicker about who should be the big or small)

@sallyvanna ha chiesto:HAIII FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOUR BIO PARENT AU it makes my day every time I see a new page postedI was just wondering, why was macaque kinda nervous when he summoned rumble and savage? He was like 'ah shit I didn't want that-' 👀

It was because the kid would be afraid of them! Of course he wouldn't. But I guess Macaque still feels like his powers are a threat to him.

@redwrathroit ha chiesto:Hey, note this is something you can completely ignore but I wanted to know if you had a ref sheet for your monkey Bois, I'd love to take a try and drawing them plus I had made an Oc character of my own but I did it once and then art block hit me like a train and said; nah, never again. So it would really help me out if you have a ref, if not ignore this and have a nice day/night

Unfortunately I don't. I have a lot of panels where you can see them full body in various stances though.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Wukong being the little spoon is too cute, he spends years being the big spoon platonically to everyone that someone finally gave him what was needed, to be protected instead of being the protector

Yesss he iss!!!!!!

@froggyofdeath ha chiesto:Question abt Shadowpeach bio parents! Sooo, who kills the spiders, who screaming abt them, who the one who picks it up and try to scare the screaming one?🫠✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️☕️☕️☕️☕️

Mk is screaming, Wukong picks it up, Macaque kills it.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Can we see exactly when they decided to prepare the courtnapping room? Like when exactly did they know oh we need to prepare that our son has apparently followed in our footsteps

Unfortunately in this AU for now I don't plan tp draw a full spicynoodle arc as well. There will be moments for the ship as well but more like extras and side stories.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Your shadowpeach bio au reminds me of something..... I remember you saying to someone that they should Read a Son of Two Dad's. Have you read the entire thing? and the sequel?

Yes I did! Also the sequel, but i think it s in hiatus.

Anonimo ha chiesto:In you newest update for the shadowpeach parent au, that one scene of Macaque looking at Wukong as MK holds his finger kind of reminds me those flashback scenes in movies of the dead lover/wife that is looking at the main character from under a flowing blanket. I have no clue why but the image popped up in my head when I read that part of the comic lmao

I bet when they are back together they will re-create this exact image eventually

Anonimo ha chiesto:I love that Macaque is initiating contact with Wukong. Hugging him, holding his hands, cuddling with him. It makes my heart melt 🥹🥰 And Wukong is giving him opportunities to do so

He is opening the door for Mac to come closer, so that it's his choice how much he can get closer. The last thing Wukong wants is to rush things or do something that would make him more uncomfortable.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Omg! I love your art especially your shadowpeach parent bio au, it's adorable! Although I'm terrified for the next page. Anyway, my question is, why won't you let the monkey trio breathe from the trauma? 😅🥹

Bc apparently chat asked for it

[haikyu-mp4]

November

word count; 1033 – f!reader

Kozume Kenma did not want to be in the library right now. If he had his way, he would be asleep under a warm duvet all day now that classes had ended for the semester. Unfortunately, he had a lot to learn before exams, and there was no time to waste.

He chose a seat by the table in the back, which was only occupied by one other student, who he didn’t acknowledge at all. You eventually took notice of him, though. The cute guy with the outgrown bleach was looking down at his schoolwork with a frown, and you were very amused. You stretched your arm out to get his attention, and Kenma eventually looked up with a face that bridged between annoyed and confused. He looks like a kitten, you thought. "What did that book ever do to you?"

"It mocks my lack of will. So if you could try not to distract me, that would be great," he answered, which ended your conversation abruptly. You smirked to yourself, picked up a pen and got to work on your next drawing after taking a sip from your water bottle. Kenma calmly put on his headphones, a sign to please leave him alone.

After about half an hour, Kenma sat back in his seat to stretch. His spine cracked, and he clapped his cheeks to stay awake. You took this as your opportunity and flipped your drawing pad to show him the newest masterpiece. Kenma turned his head at the motion, and his face quickly fell in disbelief. You had drawn him how he looked today, except with ears and a nose that resembled a calico cat. He frowned when he noticed your wide and proud smile. Annoyingly enough, he was impressed by your unusual art style. When Kenma looked down at his notes again, he couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face. A light rosy colour tinted his cheeks despite his efforts to stay cool, and your heart fluttered. Mission accomplished.

A week later, even closer to exams, Kenma made his way to the library again. To his surprise, the woman he still didn't know the name of was there too. With a quick rundown of positives and negatives in his head, he decided to take a seat across from you.

You sat like that every day for the whole school week. Kenma tried his best to cram as many facts as he could and actually started to feel like this exam might go well. He didn't quite know what the person across from him was working on, but you had several different coloured pens and even a small box of watercolours along with a brush that somehow stored the water you needed in the handle. He started wondering, and before he could stop himself, "Are you allowed to paint in here?"

Your eyes met, unconsciously having a staring contest for one too many seconds. Oh, so he wants to talk to me now? When his eyes wandered around your face and hands, he noticed that you weren’t exactly being careful with your colours either.

"No one has told me not to," you said slowly as if trying to convince him. A small smile graced his lips, and you felt greedy for more of it.

"Sounds like solid reasoning to me," Kenma agreed and leaned back in his chair. His hand lifted to point at the back of your large notepad, "What are you creating now, then?"

Abashingly, you turned it around. You had filled the whole page, and he recognised it as the library you were currently in, but with much more sunshine and colours, orange flowers growing from the books and pink cows making their way across the floor in the back. "I study visual arts. We have to create an exhibition, and my theme is perspective." His mouth fell open slightly as he nodded in understanding when you explained.

"It's cool. You're good at that." Kenma kept his voice low, and something about it was so enticing to you. He spoke so calmly and every emotion of his was a mystery. "I'm Kenma."

"I'm y/n." After settling down from your little conversation, you kept sipping from your water bottle. Kenma’s mouth dried every time he heard the sound. He did his best to clear his throat, realising he hadn’t brought anything to drink.

“Do you have an inspiration?” he asked, mostly wondering if you actually saw the words that way.

The corner of your mouth quirked. “I’ve always like games, it’s affected the way I see the world. Sorry, that probably sounds like childish imagination.”

Kenma thought back to the things he’d imagine when he ran in high school for volleyball practice. The way he’d make it into a game. “No, I… Uh, I totally get it.”

You two naturally fell into silent, individual work again. Kenma kept glancing over at your paintings, but whenever you met his gaze, he would look away. Eventually, the sun went down, and you both started clearing the table, silently packing everything into your bags. Come on, Kenma. Just smile at her and say something. However, somewhat luckily, you beat him to it.

"Hey, Kenma?" He lifted his head swiftly, eyebrows raised, happy that you started the conversation. "Do you want to get a drink?" You weren’t necessarily nervous, but undoubtedly hopeful for his answer. The corners of his mouth lifted in a kind, small smile. You had both picked up your bags and stood beside the table.

"A drink? Yeah, sure." Kenma’s voice sent a shiver down your spine again, and you straightened up with an even broader smile.

"Fun! Cool, cool, cool- The student bar?"

"I've only been there once or twice before, never saw the charm." The student bar had a certain vibe that didn't fit him when he just wanted to drink. A lot of people were there to socialise with new people, and Kenma was not interested.

"The beer is cheaper there," you said in a sing-songy voice to try and convince the handsome man. Kenma wasn't entirely convinced, but if you wanted to go there, then he wouldn't argue.

"Lead the way."

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[smokeysweater]

Masterlist It had been a good arrangement so far. You and John I mean, it had been pretty comfortable since you originally applied for the ad, it still baffled you that nobody else wanted this, 250 pounds every two weeks, to live in a nice house in the gorgeous countryside, with a roommate who is barely here. Even when John is here, he’s civil and nice. Doesn’t talk to you unless needed, using the sweetest of nicknames when he does as well. ” hey sweetheart, I’m about to run to the grocery store, ya need anything?” ”let me just squeeze right past you, doll” ” Thanks for the dinner love, it's delicious as always.” His voice, that deep, smooth British tone mixed with the most knee-dropping nicknames, it’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long with him invading your mind every time you go to bed. so it was a good thing you two had going on, he left for months on end, leaving you with the house you barely paid rent for, you’ve seen the bill, you know it’s not 250 pounds, that barely scraps it. You’ve tried confronting him about it, but he just hit you right back with a “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, just let me handle it.” …yeah you didn’t fight back against that one. honestly, before you realise it, three years have passed, 3 nice years of having a giant, beautiful house in the countryside all by yourself with a sometimes roommate and only paying dirt for rent, and you might be the luckiest person you know. it had occurred to you one day however, since it had been three years since you’ve started living with John, or as you’ve heard some people call him, Captain Price, that you two were common law.So, you thought it was at least a little funny, so you brought it up one day. You had been waiting for a week when he was home, it had been a bit since he got back, you decided now would be the moment to tell him, with you two sitting at the dining table eating a dinner John had prepared for you two The utensil’s that clattered and Clinked against the plates filled the mostly silent room, there was no tension against you two, just happy to let the quiet fill the air, so you took this as an oppuritinty to tell the older man.  “Hey John,” you spoke, prompting him to look up, baby blue eyes peering up at you, threatening to still your very being. “You know, since it’s been three years since we’ve lived together, we’re technically in a common law marriage now, funny right? I mean you're barely here but the kingdom decides we’re ��married’” You chuckled, putting air quotations at the married part, you didn’t look Price in the eyes when you said this, focusing on the plate in front of you. so you were unable to see the way his eyes darkened, how his knuckles seemed to whiten with how tightly he gripped his knife and fork. His breathing silently froze for a moment, but the moment you looked back up again, he went back to normal, as if to hide what motions exactly ran through him like a fright train. ” that so?.. spouse we should do something to celebrate, huh doll?” Price asked, in the hushed velvety tone he always carried when talking to you. you shrugged, uncaring. “I mean, we don’t have to, I don’t think it matters, we’re not married.” You reminded Price casually, too preoccupied to see the way Price twitched at that.

”I suppose not.” He mumbled back.

That small moment set off a chain of events that would change your relationship for the better or worse.

the next morning, you felt stranger than usual, it felt.. weird, and wrong. But, naive ol’ you, shrugged it off, getting up for the day, but when you looked down at you beside the table to grab your phone, you noticed something. curiously, you picked up a ring, a pretty little thing, the red gem glinting bright in the Sun, the silver band attached to it feeling smooth and cool against your skin. next to it, was a small note. ’Hey sweetheart. Had to leave early, I’ll be back, I promise, I got you something for Our marriage, Hope you like it. Be back soon To Mx Price. Love, John Price’ what the fuck.

[ruewrote]

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: jealously, arguments, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: is there someone else? by the weeknd WORD COUNT: 4.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: can you tell that me breaking no contact didn't go well?

navigation | ask | jj maybank masterlist

you were tired. not the kind of tired you could fix with a good night’s sleep or an extra cup of coffee. 

no, this was deeper. heavier. it had been weighing on you for months, maybe longer, and no matter how much you told yourself you were done.

that this time would be the last, you always found yourself right back where you started, with jj.

it wasn’t the kissing that made you feel this way, not exactly. you liked kissing him. god, you loved kissing him. the way his lips tasted faintly of weed and beer, the way he held you like you were the only thing grounding him. 

the way his stupid grin would soften just for you, his cocky bravado melting into something almost vulnerable. for a few fleeting hours, it felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of since the first time you realised how deep your feelings for him ran.

but it was never real. not when the alcohol was buzzing in his veins, not when he whispered things he’d never say in the harsh light of day. “you know it’s always been you, right?” his voice would crack sometimes, and you’d feel your heart breaking and healing all at once. 

or there’d be the quiet, desperate promises. “one day, i’m gonna do right by you. i swear.” and for a moment, you’d believe him.

you always believed him.

but then the sun would rise, and jj would be gone. not gone in the literal sense. no, he’d still be around, cracking jokes, causing trouble, being him. but it was like the version of him you got in the middle of the night didn’t exist in the daylight. 

instead, you’d see him with someone else, his arm slung around some girl, his attention completely absorbed by her like you’d never even crossed his mind.

it wasn’t just one time. it wasn’t even a few times. it was a pattern, and it was breaking you. because as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him for being who he was, for not giving you the thing you so desperately wanted but he so clearly wasn’t ready to give.

you hated the way you let him in, over and over again. the way you believed the things he said, even when he never followed through on them. you hated the way your heart sped up when he looked at you, even though you knew that look wouldn’t last. 

you hated the way your chest ached every time you saw him with someone else, the way you had to swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile like it didn’t matter.

but it did matter. it mattered too much.

so, you told yourself you were done. this time, for real. no more stolen kisses, no more whispered promises. no more jj.

moving on wasn’t easy, though. it wasn’t like you could just flip a switch and stop caring. but you tried. you told yourself it was okay to look at other guys, to flirt a little, to remind yourself that there were people out there who might actually be able to give you what jj couldn’t.

at first, it felt hollow. empty. none of the guys you talked to really clicked, and you started to wonder if you were just wasting your time. but then there was jackson.

jackson wasn’t like jj. he didn’t have that wild spark, that untamed energy that drew people in. but maybe that was a good thing. because jackson was steady. reliable. the kind of guy who made you feel safe instead of uncertain.

he wasn’t one for grand gestures or flashy moves. but he was thoughtful in ways that caught you off guard. like when he texted you first thing in the morning, asking how you slept. or when he remembered little things about you. your favorite coffee order, the song you hummed under your breath when you thought no one was listening.

and maybe the chemistry wasn’t instant. maybe there weren’t fireworks or that pull you’d always felt with jj. but there was something else. something quieter. something warmer.

still, there were moments when doubt crept in. 

late at night, when your phone buzzed and you half hoped it was him. even though you knew it wouldn’t be. or when you caught yourself comparing the two of them, wondering if you’d ever feel the same fire you felt for jj with someone else.

the doubt lingered. refusing to leave no matter how much you tried to shake it. 

the room had quieted down, the hum of conversation replaced by the soft rustling of the evening. the others had scattered. pope was buried in his notes on the porch, sarah and john b had disappeared into the twinkie for some ‘alone time,’ and kie had made herself scarce, muttering something about a late-night walk.

that left just you and jj, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch. you had tucked yourself into the corner, scrolling through your phone, a quiet giggle escaping your lips now and then. it wasn’t intentional, but each laugh seemed to draw jj’s attention, his eyes flickering toward you.

“what’s so funny over there?” he finally asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

you glanced up at him briefly, your lips still tugged into a soft smile. "nothing," you said casually, shrugging as you turned your attention back to your phone.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, leaning toward you, his eyebrows raised. "nah, come on. don’t give me that. who’s got you giggling like that? share with the class."

you hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone as you debated whether or not to answer. you weren’t doing anything wrong, not really, but something about admitting you were texting jackson felt... complicated.

"it’s just jackson," you said finally, keeping your tone light. "he sent me something funny."

jj froze for a split second, so brief you might have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. but then he leaned back, his smirk slipping into place. "oh, jackson, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with something that wasn’t quite teasing but wasn’t far from it either. 

"what’s he got you laughing about? some dad joke or something?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his sudden shift made your stomach twist. "it’s not a big deal, jayj," you said, shrugging again. "just a funny meme. relax."

"relax? i’m totally relaxed," he shot back, but there was an edge to his voice now, subtle but obvious to you. he stretched out on the couch, his arm draping over the back, his eyes fixed on you. "i mean, good for you, right? jackson seems like... a solid guy."

you could feel the tension creeping into the air between you, and you hated it. you hated how jj could make something so small feel so heavy, how his words, his tone, could tangle you up inside even when you tried so hard not to let them.

"yeah, he is," you said quietly, your eyes still on your phone. "he’s nice."

"nice," jj repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "that’s great. real exciting."

you looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the cocky mask he wore slipped. there was something raw in his eyes, something he couldn’t quite hide no matter how hard he tried.

"why do you care?" you asked softly, the question hanging between you.

he opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. for a moment, it looked like he might actually say something real, something honest. but then he shook his head, his smile sliding back into place.

"i don’t," he said with a shrug, his voice light and breezy. "just curious, that’s all. you know me, always gotta know what’s going on."

but you weren’t convinced, and from the way he avoided your eyes, you knew he wasn’t either.

you turned back to your phone, trying to focus on jackson’s message, but jj’s presence was impossible to ignore. the warmth of his presence, the way his leg brushed against yours when he shifted. everything about him pulled at you, even when you didn’t want it to.

the tension had been building for days, his snide comments had started small. barely noticeable jabs that you brushed off with a roll of your eyes. but they didn’t stop. every interaction seemed to carry a sharper edge, a hidden layer of something he wouldn’t address. and while he never said anything outright about what had been between you, it was there, unspoken, colouring every word that left his mouth.

by the end of the week, it had become unbearable.

you were sitting at home, sprawled on your bed with the tv on for background noise, trying to find some semblance of peace. but jj had shown up unannounced, like he always did, at first, he just hovered, pacing around your room, muttering something about john b, then pope, then kie. and when that didn’t hold his attention, he turned his focus to you.

"really?" he scoffed, nodding toward your phone. "let me guess, you’re texting jackson. again."

you froze, your grip on the phone tightening as your pulse spiked. he was baiting you. again, but this time, you weren’t in the mood to play along. "what’s your problem, jj?" you said, not looking up.

"my problem?" he said, his voice cutting as his eyes flicked over you. "i don’t have a problem. just didn’t realise you were into guys who need a manual to figure you out. guess you finally found someone slow enough to keep up."

that was it. that was the breaking point.

you stood up so fast your phone fell onto the floor, your chest heaving as you rounded on him. "what the hell is wrong with you?" you snapped, your voice louder than you’d intended. 

"you’ve been like this all week, taking cheap shots, acting like a total asshole. why? because i’m trying to move on? because i’m finally doing something for myself instead of waiting around for you to get your shit together?"

jj blinked, startled by the sudden outburst, but his defenses went up just as quickly. his jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly. "i don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, his voice colder now. "i’m just calling it like i see it."

"calling it like you see it?" you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. "no, jj. you’re being a coward. you can’t handle the fact that i’m not waiting around for you anymore, so you’re lashing out like some jealous boyfriend. grow up!"

"jealous?" he scoffed, his laugh bitter. "of jackson? please. the guy you’re settling for?”

"stop it," you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. "just stop. you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to act like this when you’re the one who’s been stringing me along for months. you don’t get to pick and choose when to care about me. you either want me, jj, or you don’t. but i can’t keep doing this with you."

for a moment, the room was silent, your words hanging heavy in the air between you. jj’s expression flickered, his mask slipping for just a second, and you saw something raw in his eyes. guilt. pain. maybe even regret. but it wasn’t enough. not this time.

"that’s what i thought," you said, your voice quieter now but still stern. "you can’t even say it, can you? you can’t admit that you don’t want me, but you can’t stand the thought of someone else making me happy either. that’s not love, jj. that’s just being selfish."

he opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you shook your head, turning away from him as tears stung the corners of your eyes. "just go," you said, your voice trembling. "i can’t do this anymore."

but he didn’t move. he stayed frozen in the same spot, staring at you, like he was waiting for something.

you whipped around to face him, your hands shaking. "why the hell are you still here?" you snapped, fury rising in your chest. "are you really just gonna stand there? if you won’t leave, then i will."

without another word, you turned and stormed down the stairs, the adrenaline making your steps faster, sharper. you grabbed the door, slamming it behind you so hard the house seemed to tremble. 

you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, the cool night air biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. in all your anger, you hadn’t even grabbed a jacket, and now the chill of the night was cutting through you. 

you found yourself heading to the beach without even thinking. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was distant, muffled by the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

you reached the sand, and collapsed down, too exhausted to care about the discomfort. the wind howled around you, you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as if you could hold yourself together that way. 

the tears that had been threatening for so long finally broke free, flooding down your cheeks as the full weight of it hit you.

you couldn’t stop the sobs, each one shaking through your body. it felt like every bit of the anger, the hurt, the confusion, and the love you had poured into jj over the months came crashing down all at once. it wasn’t fair.

none of it was. you had given him everything, trusted him, believed his empty promises, and now... you were sitting alone on the beach in the dark, freezing cold, with nothing left but the ache in your chest.

you buried your face into your knees, the salt of your tears mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze, as you let the emptiness swallow you whole.

the tears had stopped, but they clung to your skin, leaving long streaks down your cheeks. your eyes were swollen, your lips tender and raw from the sobbing, and you just sat there, numb, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. 

the waves crashed relentlessly, matching the rhythm of the ache inside you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

you had no idea how much time had passed. minutes? hours? the world felt like it had gone quiet around you, just you and the ocean. and then, the sound of footsteps. at first, you didn’t acknowledge it. 

you figured it was just the wind or some passing stranger, but the steps grew closer. you held your breath, the space around you suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like everything in you knew who was coming, even before you saw him.

the sound of a thud broke the silence as someone sat down beside you. you turned slowly, the muscles in your neck aching, but there he was. of course, it was him.

for a moment, all you could do was stare, the disbelief hitting you. your chest tightened again, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. you wiped it away angrily, but it didn't matter. the damage was already done.

a bitter, humourless laugh escaped you, the sound raw and broken. "why can’t you just leave me alone?" you muttered, the words barely audible. you tried to look away, but your eyes wouldn’t shift from him. 

you hated the way your heart twisted at the sight of him, even now, even after everything.

jj didn’t say anything at first, just sitting there beside you, his presence heavy. you could feel his gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things.

you glanced back over to him to find his own eyes were swollen, lips and nose tinged pink from what you could only guess were from his own breakdown, his hands still trembling as they rested at his sides. 

you hated how, despite all the pain he’d caused, you still found him pretty in this moment. the vulnerability in him, the way he wore his brokenness so openly, it made your chest ache. it was the last thing you wanted to feel. 

he didn’t speak. neither did you. it felt like you were both waiting for the other to break first. but it wasn’t until the sound of the waves crashing against the shore felt too deafening that he finally spoke, his voice cracked, raw.

“i… i’m sorry," he began, voice thick with something like regret. "i’ve been a fucking idiot, okay? i know i have. and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know what i’m doing, or what i’ve done to you… but i need you to know that it’s not because i don’t care.”

his words were stuttering, full of shame, but the way he said it, the way his hands fidgeted, his desperation was impossible to ignore.

“i–god, i fucked this up, didn’t i? i… i always do this. i push, i pull, i make you feel like shit, and then… then i can’t stand the thought of losing you. but every time you walk away, i don’t know how to make you stay. i never know what the right thing to say is, and i just... i just hurt you again and again. i’m so fucking sorry."

you were still staring out at the ocean, fighting the hurt that sat heavy in your chest, fighting the urge to listen to the softness in his voice, to hear him out. but you couldn’t. not yet.

“i’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice breaking. “i don’t deserve it. but i need you to know how much i fucking care about you. more than i know how to say. more than i can ever show. it’s like i don’t know what to do with it, so i make everything worse. but you–you matter to me more than anything else in my stupid fucking life. and if you can find it in you to forgive me... if you can just look at me the way you used to, i’ll do anything. i swear, i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was softer now, quieter, almost pleading as he inched closer to you on the sand, his face full of regret. his eyes searched yours, desperate to find any trace of warmth, any sign that you still cared.

“i’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling. “please. i can’t lose you. i can’t. i know i fucked up, but please. give me the chance to make it right. please don’t walk away from me. not like this.”

the words hung in the air between you, his desperate plea reverberating in the cold night as you sat there, trembling from the weight of it all. your chest felt tight, the pain of everything that had happened pressing on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

his words reached you, pierced through the numbness you had been trying to build around yourself. but you weren’t ready yet, not ready to let go of the anger, the hurt. you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself.

but you couldn’t.

you felt the floodgates open, and the dam you’d so carefully built up around your heart cracked, letting the years of suppressed feelings break free in one overwhelming rush.

the tears came first, unbidden, streaking down your cheeks as your breath caught in your throat. you wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but the weight of everything, the heartache that had built up for so long, was impossible to ignore. you turned toward him, your voice shook as you spoke, barely a whisper at first.

“you don’t get it,” you said, the rawness in your voice making it hard to speak. “you don’t get how much i wanted this… how much i wanted you.”

your hands were trembling now, your heart hammering as the words poured out, no longer able to keep them locked inside. “i’ve been holding on to this... this stupid hope, waiting for you to realise how i feel. but i couldn’t do it anymore, jj. i couldn’t keep waiting for you to come around. for you to see me. to see us. every time i tried to let you in, you pushed me away. every time you said you cared, i believed you, and you made me feel like an idiot for it."

you paused, trying to steady your breath as your chest tightened again. 

“i kept telling myself i was done. that i was over it. that i could move on. but every time i saw you with someone else, every time you pulled away, it tore me apart. it felt like i was drowning in it, jj. and i kept asking myself why i kept putting myself through that, why i kept letting you hurt me. but the truth is, i can’t stop wanting you. i can’t stop needing you.”

you took a shaky breath, your eyes brimming with tears again, but this time, they felt different. this time, they were from the depths of everything you’d been holding back. the fear. the hurt. the longing.

“i can’t do it anymore,” you whispered. “i need you. i’ve needed you for so long, but you never, never, let me be close enough. and it’s breaking me. it has been for so long.”

"i don’t want to be this broken, desperate person anymore," you continued, the tears coming faster now. "i can’t keep waiting for you to make up your mind. but god… god, i need you to choose me. i need you to finally see me. not as some game, not as someone you can just toss aside when it's not convenient for you anymore. i need to know you’re here for me. that you want me too.”

you looked up at him then, your heart in your throat, his eyes were wide, filled with a mix of guilt, pain. “i need you, jj,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper now. "i don’t care if it’s messy. i don’t care if it’s hard. i just need to know you’re here… that you’re really here."

the weight of it all hung in the air between you, and you felt exposed. but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t care about hiding anymore. you were done pretending you didn’t need him. done pretending you could walk away from what had been growing between you for so long.

he reached out, tentatively at first, like he was scared you’d pull away. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that seemed to break the tension in the air.

“hey… hey, look at me.” his voice was softer than you had ever heard it, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck this up. he moved closer to you, his other hand resting carefully on your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“i’m here,” he said, his voice low, but full of conviction now. “i’m right here, and i’ve always been here, in my messed up way. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been a fucking idiot. i don’t deserve you, but damn it, i’m not going anywhere. i don’t want anyone else. it’s always been you, even when i was too stupid to admit it to myself. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

he let out a shaky breath, and you could see how real he was being. it wasn’t just the guilt on his face anymore; it was something else, something pure. it was like he was finally letting himself be vulnerable with you, really showing you what he’d been hiding all this time.

“i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to fight for me,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “i should’ve chosen you from the start. i should’ve seen you. really seen you, for who you are. not just the person who’s always there when i need them. you’re more than that. you always have been.”

his forehead pressed gently against yours, and you could feel his breath mingling with yours. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d slip away forever.

“i need you too,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not perfect. i’m never gonna be perfect. but i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. because you are my choice. always. you’re all i want.”

the warmth of his words, the tenderness in his touch, broke something open in you, you allowed yourself to lean into him fully. 

all the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble, piece by piece.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[salty-autistic-writer]

"Oh. You got a cat," Buck says, surprised.

"Three. I got three cats," Tommy clarifies with a weak chuckle. "This is Bella. She's the only one of the bunch brave enough to greet strangers."

"Wow," Buck says, hoping it doesn't show on his face that the stranger stings a little. He crouches to pet the black cat sniffing his shoes and looking up at him with golden eyes. "Hi, Bella."

Bella allows him to stroke her back once, and then she retreats, walking back into the house slowly, with her tail raised.

Buck straightens and clears his throat. "So ... three cats huh?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see the other two?"

Buck knows he shouldn't. He came here to give Tommy some of the stuff he left at the loft. Clothes (that smell unbearably much like Tommy). A toothbrush. A book about helicopters (that makes Buck's stomach clench whenever he looks at it). He came here to give Tommy his stuff and ... and maybe ask if Tommy has something from Buck too. And then he would leave.

But Tommy says, "Sure, come in! You want a beer? Or coffee? I have some cake in the fridge too."

Buck follows Tommy inside, closing the door. "Uh, thanks. A ... a beer would be nice."

He looks around, seeing subtle changes. Bowls with water for the cats. Toys lying around on the floor. A cat tree in the corner. Bella is lounging on a pillow on the couch, watching them with her attentive eyes.

"Her brothers are probably hiding," Tommy says, glancing at Buck. "They are shy. All three of them come from a farm and ... Well. They didn't have good experiences with humans. But ... If you stay for a while, they might come out and say hello."

Buck nods. "Okay," he says, sitting on the couch and smiling at Bella. Tommy gets them two beers and sits down as well. In a moment of silence, Buck finally dares to look at Tommy. To really look at him. Again, he sees changes. Tommy is leaner. He lost weight. His hair is longer too. And he has a beard now.

For a long moment, Buck knows exactly what he wants to say but he can't. Why didn't you text me sooner? Were you in pain too? Did you dream about me too? Did you wonder if you would ever feel whole again too?

"Sorry," Tommy says. "There's cat hair everywhere." His eyes are on Buck's jeans. And yes, they are already covered in cat hair.

"I don't mind," Buck says with a shrug. "So you .. saved them?"

"A colleague asked me if I would take them. And I said yes. To be completely honest with you, they saved me more than I saved them. They kept me sane. I had to take care of them. That distracted me from how I sometimes didn't want to take care of me," Tommy admits. And looks almost startled. As if he just realised he said too much.

Buck swallows. "I had baking to keep me sane," he says with a weak smile. "I moved from bread and cake to brownies to cookies to scones. Eddie claims there's a flour shortage because of me now."

"Wow. Interesting coping strategies," Tommy says, raising a brow and taking another sip of his beer.

Buck suddenly spots an orange cat peeking at him with wide green eyes from behind one of Tommy's plants. "Someone is watching me. In a very sceptic way," he says with a chuckle.

"Ah. That's Ron," Tommy says, his eyes brightening. "He's brave today."

Buck smiles. "Maybe he'll come and let me pet him. If I stay a little longer."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, looking at Buck with a small smile. "Maybe."

(AO3 Link)

[tyunniebbang]

oh so flirty : boyfriend enha

—💌 let's sugar talk !

content: boyfriend headcanons with ot7

no content warnings, all fluff!

little pecks, a soft head pat — heeseung would be a quiet lover. despite being well known for his extremely flirty stage persona, he realises that he likes to show his love with small actions. that way, he knows how to clearly separate enhypen's Lee Heeseung and The Lee Heeseung, himself. he loves it when you look at him knowingly, a silent conversation, telling him you absolutely love his attention. going to work? have a kiss, baby.

"do you want some dinner, love?" — jay would be such a caring lover. mothering you every other minute, you might be convinced that he's mama duck and he just loves his little duckling (you). coming home feels so comfortable, seeing jay nursing his kimchi stew meant for your delicious dinner. he scoops your portion of rice and pats your butt to tell you to hurry up. nothing swells up his heart more to see you so happy while munching down on his food.

a gift, a bouquet of flowers, a peck to welcome you home — jake is an absolute romantic. flirty is his middle name, he never stops to amaze you with his advances. it's awkward, but your cute little romantic would wait for you outside the door everyday, refusing to stay inside. it's like coming home to a puppy with a large wagging tail everyday. his eyes sparkles when he sees your silhouette nearing and calls out your name.

"aye~ i know all about you!"— park sunghoon is really an enigma. he squabbles, fights, teases you till no end. yet somehow that's exactly how he shows his love. when park sunghoon bickers with you, you know ultimately he's right. goodness me, how does he know everything about you? he's down to every detail and knows every strand of hair that makes you perfect, your personality that he loves.

yapper one and two — nothing beats a date at a quaint little cafe, sitting at the corner table with sunoo. chit chatting your woes away, sharing about the crazy things you've seen this past week at your university. maybe you don't notice, but sunoo likes to gaze at you when you go on about your long rant about... something that he forgot. none of that matters when he wants to appreciate your beauty.

fluffy this, fluffy that — everytime jungwon goes out, he has to commit himself to buy one plushie that looks like you. and cue the 30 minute yap about how he thinks you are equally as adorable as a spiky komodo dragon. everything reminds him of you, he misses you so much it's borderline attachment issues. it's probably time to tell jungwon that you don't take up majority of the space on your bed anymore. maybe he needs to find something new to get you.

"what- no, i don't like you!" — niki is a 100% tsundere. at first, you thought he was just an immature little kitten, but his feelings have seemed to slowly develop for you. he's going to explode if he doesn't do something. you wonder, why is this tall threatening emo boy suddenly bringing you coffee milk and a delicious strawberry cake? his pale cheeks turn pink whenever he sees you. does he... like you?

[misstycloud]

Yan.fiancé x royal GN.reader x yan.royal advisor

[Mc’s GN but will still be referred to as King/have traditionally male title]

——

Imagine a yandere prince who’s set to marry the king of a neighbouring kingdom, finding out his future spouse may not have an ounce of space for him in their heart. Especially when it appears like the their faithful, royal advisor might’ve beaten him to it.

This was it, Karim told himself. He was finally going to muster up the courage to ask you out. While you two were already engaged and had a set date for the wedding, he wished to catch your interest the old-fashioned way; the proper way, that is.

He straightened out his shirt and combed through his dark locks one last time before knocking on the professionally made oak door. A voice from inside-which was undoubtedly yours- said ‘enter’ in a monotone pitch.

You were sitting at a large desk(probably for all the paperwork and clutter to have a home), writing in documents that he had no idea what they were for. Your were not alone in the room, though. A tall man stood beside you, seemingly waiting for your every beck and call. His long red hair was tied into a low ponytail that draped over his right shoulder. The man was none other than the royal advisor and the childhood playmate of Kingdom X’s proud monarch, Caecilius. Karim felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck as Caecilius stared at him with such an irritation that he felt wrong for even breathing in the same room. He tried ignoring it and gulped. He guessed the silence was suppose to be an indicator for him to speak first.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, “ he bowed “I don’t mean to disturb you, but-“

“Then don’t.” You said gruffly, glancing up from your paperwork. Noticing him flinch slightly, you realised it might’ve come out too harshly. You closed your eyes and sighed, silently counting to five in your head before saying, “sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitter.” Pinching your eyebrows, you waved with your arm, signalling your fiancé to continue.

He fixed himself(straightening out any wrinkles on his clothes and dragging his fingers through his hair, again) the moment he got your full attention. “Ah, yes, well I was simply wondering if Your Majesty would be interested in joining me in the gardens this afternoon?’ He looked up at you with a glint of hope his eyes, still ignoring Caecilius.

“For what purpose, exactly?” You inquired while resuming working and going over the pile of documents on your desk.

“Oh, um, tea- and other things, of course! I had the cooks prepare muffins and cookies.”

“No.” You said without doubt. If you actually had been looking your fiancé in the eye, you would have seen his shoulders slump in a manner that would have his mother scold him. She’d definitively go on about how many recorses went into raising him and she refused to let him disgrace them by being mopey.

“O-oh, that’s alright. I apologise for disturbing you.” Karim muttered, sounding weak and ashamed by the end.

It might not have been intentional, but you kind of felt like he was trying to guilt trip you. “Karim.”

Said man glanced up at the sound of his name.

“It’s not because I do not enjoy your company. The reason is that I have a lot of work that needs to be done. So please, don’t be disheartened.” You encouraged him with an assuring voice. “We will have tea and snacks together another day, alright?”

Blushing, he responded, “Yes, certainly, Your Majesty.” Karim smiled, and it would’ve all ended well there if it wasn’t for the third person in the room.

“There is no reason to lie, Your Majesty.” Caecilius’ smug tone was like nails on a chalk board to your fiancé. The royal advisor put his hand on your shoulder before facing Karim. “Their Majesty actually doesn’t like tea, and sweets are something they can’t have too much of lest they feel ill. Although, this is something you should have knowledge of considering your position?” The red-haired man let the insult hang in the air.

Karim’s smile had instantly wiped off and he stood there in complete silence, trying to control his emotions while thinking of what to say back.

You were no fool and easily sensed the hostility between the two men who were supposed to be your closest companions for the rest of your lives. Not wanting things to blow out of proportion, you sent a warning look towards your advisor.

“Cecil.”

You were far from in love with Karim, but he was still your future spouse, and that meant he wouldn’t be treated however. At the end of the day, cavil was simply an advisor- albeit a royal one.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” He stepped back and neutralised his expression, understanding he went too far this time.

You sighed and shook your head in both frustration and disappointment. Your fiancé appeared to have pulled himself together, he slowly excused himself from the scene. “Thank you for your time. I will wait for a day when your are less busy.”

You gave him a nod, an acknowledgement to his departure. The tan young man spun around and left, closing the door softly behind him. And as he did, he thought he saw a slight smirk on the advisor’s face.

——-

It was later in the evening that Karim returned to his chamber. He flung himself on the lavish sheets of his bed and laid there spread out, pretending to be a starfish living in the vast ocean. At least a starfish wouldn’t have to deal with unrequited love, he thought. He would only have to worry about..whatever starfish did.

Grabbing a pillow, he screamed into it. What was he gonna do now? He’d already been living in your kingdom for months now, and the already scarce moment he managed to see you were becoming even fewer. Now two whole weeks could pass without him seeing as much as a glimpse of you. The closest he’d ever get to you was the whisperers of your name from the servants.

In the beginning, when he had first head of his upcoming marriage to you, he was honestly disgusted. That was because he had the impression you’d be a greedy, old man, giggling in his seat to take advantage of a young man. It was totally wrong! That impression was no where near who you actually were. You were neither old nor greedy.

During his stay, Karim had made it his mission to find out just exactly who you were before the wedding, and what better way to gather info than from the servants working in the palace. They work in the inner circle, they know everything! If anyone would know of the king’s bad habits, it’s them. Surprisingly, though, every servant he asked said nothing but positive things about you. While they obviously didn’t know you on an individual level, they couldn’t deny that you were a good person. To summarise all their thoughts : you were a fair and hardworking ruler.

A knock sounded at his door. Karim lifted his head to stare at the door. His personal servant bowed as a show of respect and then properly entered the chamber.

“Your Highness has not eaten dinner. Should I ask the chefs to send a meal up to your room?” She asked.

“No, I’m not hungry.” After thinking breifly he asked the maid, “Is there something in particular that Their Majesty likes?”

The maid was not prepared for this bold question. A little perplexed, she thought to ask to make sure she was correct in her assumption, “I’m not sure I understand completely, Your Highness. Are you referring to Their Majesty’s likes and dislikes?”

Karim nodded and repeated the question.

Feeling somewhat put on the spot, the maid ransacked her brain in what to say, thinking on the things Their Majesty says to enjoy. “Well, they are often engrossed in reading- from what I’ve heard. They go for strolls in the garden, as well.” She tried coming up with something more but found nothing. The maid apologised, “Unfortunatly that is all I can think of. Their Majesty works most of the time and does not have a lot to spare for hobbies.”

Karim held back a sigh, not wanting to make her feel bad for not carrying the answers he wished for. “It’s alright, thank you.”

“May I ask why His Highness ask? Perhaps if I knew the reason I might be of more help.”

Now he felt a bit embarrassed. “Oh..” he scratched his cheek, “Today, I went to request Their Majesty join me in the garden but they declined. The royal advisor even said they don’t like consuming too many sweets, so that may be why. Maybe they simply don’t like me?” Karim wanted to cry at the possibility. Sure, he and Their Majesty might not be getting married because they’re romantic sweethearts, but Karim had a hard time believing he was anywhere near repulsive. He shot uo from his position. “Quick, tell me their preferences in partners!”

“Ehm..”

“You must know something, tell me.” He urged.

The maid gulped and bit her lip. Should she tell him? She did know something; though it was only a rumour, it must hold some truth. She was a mere maid, nothing like the elegant, blue blooded people she in her surroundings. Telling him would surely be a violation.

“Wait!” Karim exclaimed and surprised the maid with his sudden outburst. “Or is it that Their Majesty has never expressed an interest in anyone previously?” It was certanly rare for royals not to have had any lovers, but not impossible. He had to admit, the though made him quite giddy. Imagine if he was Their Majsety’s first.

“Unfortunately, that is not the case, Your Highness.” She said timidly, and upon noticing his dejected expression, added, “Although, they are only rumours so they might not be true at all.”

“What rumours?”

She wondered again whether she was crossing a line but decided to tell Karim anyway. “There have been rumours circling around for a very long time about the king having a lover here at the palace- someone close to them.”

“And how long have these rumours been spreading?” Karim questioned to why he hadn’t heard anything about it and why no one ever bothered to inform him about them. He didn’t know how long was a ‘very long time’ but was keen to find out.

She took a second to answer, “For three years.” She answered finally.

Three years?! He’d be a bit more understanding if it’d just been a few months, three years however, that was way too long. Wincing, Karim contntinued firing questions. “Well, who is it? There has to be an idea of who the kings lover is, right? Tell me.”

Suddenly the maid seemed even more uncomfortable than ever. “You…you have probably already met. He’s always lingering behind Their Majesty- I don’t really think he has a life beyond these walls. And-“

The young man tuned out the maids speech. He was thinking deeply.

“Someone close to them”

‘‘He’s always lingering behind Their Majesty.”

“You have probably already met”

It was obvious who it was. Who else could it be? The clues in her speech pointed to one person. Karim’s mind filled with long, red hair, and those calculative grey eyes.

Caecilius.

[fayes-fics]

Comfort

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3

You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well. 

Oh dear heavens, no! 

Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.

For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it. 

Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be. 

Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.

“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, you have no earthly idea what to do. 

You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.

Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.  

You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken. 

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love? 

You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.

Oh no! He is awake.

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.

You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.

You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.

“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.

Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.

“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.

His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs. 

“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.

“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.

He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs. 

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[hotheadedhero]

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.” 

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard.  "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated. 

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late. 

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't. 

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission. 

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air. 

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point. 

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself. 

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring. 

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done. 

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months. 

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.” 

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things. 

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest. 

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hi! I've been thinking a lot about hufflepuff!fem!reader biting more than she could chew whilst practising new spells and opening a portal to a new dimension (think of the multiverse) and ending up in Gotham where she meets Nightwing during one of his patrols, where he was helping out the rest of the Batfamily pin point the spot where an anomaly created by her was detected...thanks! xx

Falling First

AN: I am SO sorry, I realised how long it was this will likely be a two parter- but OMG I dropped everything this idea was too cute

WC: 6077

CW: Use of {Y/N}, vivid panic attack, blood, rat mishandling

“Are you going to keep reading that dumb book?” Damien’s judgmental voice called over to Nightwing from the other side of the rooftop. He was practicing his form, swinging around Nightwing’s staff as if it was one of his swords.

Dick was leaning against the concrete wall, holding a soda and reading a book propped on his lap. The title? Hogwarts: A History.

“Dumb book?” Dick scoffed playfully, leaning further back. "It's fascinating!" He raved, not taking his eyes off the pages. "Besides, who doesn't want to read about wizarding worlds and magical creatures? The.. the interesting ways in which students have harmed themselves. I wonder if there is another volume..” He began to mumble.

Damien rolled his eyes, still twirling the staff with practiced ease. "We deal with real villains and real threats every day. I don't see the point in wasting time on make-believe. And did father even say you could take that here? It's evidence.”

Dick glanced up from his book, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, some day, you'll learn to relax. It's just a light read. Helps keep the mind sharp and the imagination alive."

With a final, flashy spin of the staff, Damien stopped and faced Nightwing, raising an eyebrow. "Imagination? You sound like Grayson. Oh wait, you are Grayson.”

Dick chuckled, shaking his head. "And you, my dear Damien, sound like a mini Bruce with a side of extra grumpiness."

Damien huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't see the point."

"Well, in fairness, you do need a signal. Has it happened yet?” Oracle’s voice called out from their earpiece. Dick leaned back and pressed two fingers to his ear. “Not yet, it's still stable.”

Damien huffed and walked over, sitting down on the concrete wall and snatching the bag of open puffs. “We'll be here all night. What's the point?”

“To find more anomalies, Robin.” Barbara sighed and leaned back in her seat, spinning a bit from the large computer screen and sliding over towards a glass display, showing off several random items that had been appearing on the roof top for months now.

Scrolls, weathered and tampered. Random blue crystals, which Dick’s newest favorite book called ‘moonstones,’ quills, and even what seemed to be a wand carved from hazel wood. All of which had appeared on that rooftop with a spark of terrifying energy.

"Right, anomalies.” Dick smirked, sitting up a bit straighter and closing his book. "We can't have mysterious artifacts just popping up all over Gotham. That would be bad for business."

Damien gave a reluctant nod, munching on the puffs he had taken from Dick’s bag. "Still, I don’t see how reading that book helps us."

"Knowledge is power, Damien." Dick cheeked, taking a sip of his soda. "Even if it's from a 'dumb book'. Besides, it might give us some insight into what we're dealing with. These items don’t exactly scream ‘normal’."

Barbara’s voice crackled over the earpiece again. "He's right, Damien. Understanding the lore and history behind these artifacts could be crucial. It might help us figure out where they're coming from and possibly even how they are getting here.”

“Yeah yeah..” He mumbled.

“Besides,” Dick smirked. “Who's to say we can't have a little fun on the-”

Before he could continue, lifting the book, it began to spark and flicker in his hands. As if its very file was corrupted but somehow managed to manifest physical energy. The book glowed with an eerie yellow and pink light, and the pages began to flip rapidly on their own.

"Uh, guys?" Dick called out, his playful demeanor shifting to one of concern. "I think we might have another anomaly on our hands."

Damien immediately leaped up and snapped his attention around them, pulling his katana from his sheath and getting ready.

Dick got up next, taking his staff and looking around cautiously.

“We are getting it here too!” Barbara ’s voice was hardly audible, the lights around the city began to flicker and wave, as if he was staring at a terrible simulation on the break on destruction.

Barbara stood watching the other artifacts from the batcave, seeing them flicker and spark with life as they began to glitch from place to place.

Suddenly, there was a loud crackle from above Dick and Damien, and then a loud squeak.

“Shit.” Dick hissed and shot him, using his staff to propel him and catch whatever was falling before it hit the ground.

He found in his hand, a fat brown and white rat.

Just like that, the glitching stopped. The lights around them returned to normal, and they were left with a new friend.

Dick got to his feet, holding the rat much like you would a can of soda. Staring at it curiously as it squeaked and wiggled about in distress.

"Well, this is new," Dick remarked, raising an eyebrow at the squirming rodent. "Meet our latest anomaly." He showed Damien the squirming thing.

Damien sheathed his katana, looking unimpressed. "A rat? Seriously? This is what all that chaos was about?" He wandered over and held his hand out for it, Dick smirked and pushed his head away, stepping back with a chuckle as Damien tried to steal the rodent from him.

Barbara's voice came through the earpiece, much clearer now. "Dick, Damien, are you both okay? The readings just spiked and then dropped off the charts."

"Yeah, we're fine," Dick snickered and held the rat higher, still holding Damien off. "But it looks like our anomaly this time is a... rat."

“You're not holding it properly!” Damien hissed, muffled against Dick’s palm as he tried to get to the distressed animal.

"A rat?" Barbara repeated, puzzled. "That's odd. Any idea if it has any special properties?"

"Well, it did appear out of thin air." Dick noted playfully before he looked up at it, holding it flat on its stomach now. “Speak!”

It only seemed to huff in response and Dick shrugged. “Looks like a common city rat.”

“That's not a city rat!” Damien snapped. “Look at its patterns! It's domestic.”

“A pet rat?” Barbara muttered before she crossed her arms, confused. “So we started with random items and now a living creature?”

“Sounds like experiment progression to me.” Dick cooed at the rat before he lowered his arms. “Ima call him Mr. Squeakerson.”

Before he could stop him, Damien finally stole the rat from him, shielding the creature against his chest. "He's not a toy, Grayson," Damien snapped, glaring at Dick. "This is serious."

"Alright, alright," Dick relented, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Barbara's voice came through the earpiece again. "Damien's right. If this rat is part of the anomalies, it could be important. We need to figure out where it came from and why it's here."

Damien nodded, cradling the rat gently, running two fingers down its back. "I'll take him back to the Batcave and run some tests. Maybe there's something special about this rat that we haven't identified yet."

"Good idea.” Dick agreed, his expression turning serious. "I'll keep an eye out for any more anomalies up here."

Barbara hummed. "I'll continue monitoring the readings. If anything happens, ring me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Both Dick and Damien called into their ear pieces.

~~~

“No!” You sobbed out as the portal disappeared, staring at the middle of the shrieking shack in distress.

“We can always try again next full moon.” Luna Lovegood’s airy voice called over to you. You gave another groan, walking over to one of the discarded desks and sitting down.

“It's not working! I just don't get it.” You huffed, looking over the tomes and scrolls you both had splayed out on the floor and tables, ones you had pinned and scraped together, littered with muggle sticky notes and ink that traveled between the pages as if to etch out a map.

Tomes of old magic with modern magic, the deep theory of apparition. And even some old muggle studies of what they would call inter dimensional travel. You began to scatter over the pages, stepping over the moonstones you had gathered, the fine line of black sand that had now crystallized with the energy of the portal, making it almost glass.

“What a waste of Diricawl feathers.” You whined and let your head hit the desk, Luna reaching over to rub your head to try and comfort you.

It had been months, months of you trying to create a portable form of Floo Flames, something safer than apparition and more accessible to the masses. You were turning 19 soon, you were so close to having to leave Hogwarts behind, and thus all the free materials needed to continue your experiments.

Luna continued to pat your head gently, her presence a small comfort to fight off your frustration. "You got closer this time." She breathed.

You sighed deeply, lifting your head just enough to glance at the scattered notes and artifacts. Lazily lifting your hand to grab one of your quills. "I know, Luna. It's just... I was so sure this time. We've been working on this for months, and it feels like we're no closer than when we started."

Luna gave you a dreamy smile. "Progress isn't always visible. Sometimes, it's in the small things. Like today, we didn't lose anything to the portal.”

You slowly smiled, lifting your head. “I guess so.” You mumbled. “And it was bigger this time. I could almost put my hand through.”

“That's the spirit.” Luna hummed and stood up, waving her wand as she began to set the items to collect themselves from the floor. You pouted a bit and Luna turned to smile at you.

“Still miss your wand?”

“Deeply.” You huffed and sat up, fixing your tie. “And that history of Hogwarts book is going to set me back a few galleons to replace.”

Luna tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Oh, I did forgot to mention. My father still has his old copy. He said he'd love to have you for tea, lend it to you. I can ask him if this coming holiday works."

You smiled at her, feeling your heart throb at her thoughtfulness. How could anyone hate this girl? "Thanks, Luna. You're always so helpful. I just hope we can figure this out before I have to leave Hogwarts."

Luna nodded, her brows furrowing. "We'll get there."

Just as she finished speaking, a soft glow appeared on the desk beside you. A small, shimmering portal flickered into existence for a brief moment before winking out. Both of you stared at the spot in surprise.

"Did you see that?" You whispered, as if speaking too loud would wake you up from a dream, your smile growing tenfold as Luna’s brows only furrowed deeper.

“It materialized! On its own!” You lit up and quickly got to your feet, scrambling for your journal.

“Oh that can't be good.” She muttered.

You paused, looking back at her with confusion. "What do you mean, can't be good? This is a breakthrough!"

Luna's expression remained serious, her eyes scanning the spot where the portal had flickered. "If it materialized on its own, it means the magic is becoming unstable. It might be reacting to something we don't understand yet."

Your excitement dimmed slightly as you considered her words. "Luna, it's a marvel!” You insisted. Luna hesitated, seeing her mother’s fire in your eyes. She took a steady breath and frowned a bit, turning into a pout, as you slowly relaxed your shoulders.

“It's a breakthrough.” You insisted. “And it happened after 3am, is that it? Did we have the witching hour wrong?”

As you began to scatter around the room, Luna watched with a worried look, before she could speak up about her concerns, you reached out your hand to your table. “Templeton! Quill!” You called out. But when the quill didn't hit your palm, you looked around confused. Where had your rat gone?

There was a moment of pause before you looked back at Luna. “Looloo? Where did Templeton go?”

Luna looked around the room before she slowly eyed the circle in the middle of the room. You felt your heart drop.

~~~

The majority of the day you had been moping. You missed your rat.

It was all you could think of, through every class, you couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of your mind. You had grown quite attached to Templeton, and the thought of him being lost somewhere unknown was unbearable. Was he alive? Was he eating? Was what he was eating safe? Was he safe?

Luna tried to cheer you up during lunch, but even her whimsical stories and odd facts couldn't lift your spirits. "We'll find him.” She tried to reassure you. "Maybe he's on an adventure of his own."

"An adventure?" You muttered, poking at your food. You had already started pushing the peas out of your food for Templeton. "I just hope he's safe."

As the day went on, you found yourself increasingly anxious. What if the portal had sent Templeton somewhere you couldn't reach? What if he was scared and alone? Cold and wet? What if he was missing you as much as you were missing him? The questions swirled in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

---

Back in Gotham, Damien was busy running tests on the rat in the Batcave. He had set up a small, comfortable enclosure for the creature, complete with food and water. As the automated scanners did their work, Damien couldn't help but notice how the rat seemed oddly calm, almost as if it was used with all the testing.

"Any luck?" Dick asked, strolling into the lab area with a curious look. He was out of his costume, just in sweats and a black shirt.

"Nothing yet.” Damien mumbled, keeping his eyes on the monitors. "But there's definitely something different about this rat. It's too comfortable around all this testing. And his heart is on the wrong side.”

Dick nodded, looking at the rat with interest. "Any signs of where it might have come from?"

Damien shook his head, glancing at the rat. "Not yet. But the fact that its heart is on the wrong side suggests it might not be from around here. It's an anomaly in itself."

Dick frowned, leaning in closer to the rat. "So, it's not just any rat. That makes things more interesting. We need to figure out where it came from and what it means."

As the rat continued to explore its new enclosure, Damien's eyes narrowed. "... it's really friendly. Doesn't seem to like it kibble, keeps trying to eat what Alfred brings me."

Dick nodded. "I've been cross-referencing the data from the anomalies with our existing records over the years- wait, have you been letting it out of its cage?”

Damien flustered, stammering for a moment. “It's a small enclosure!”

Dick chuckled, shaking his head at Damien's defensiveness. "Seems like Mr. Squeakerson is already growing on you. What? Don't have enough strays?"

Damien scowled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't get too attached. We still need to figure out where he came from and how he got here." Barbara's voice came from behind them. She pushed herself down the strip walk way in her wheelchair, getting back to her monitors with a yawn. Looking over to the cage and smiling as the rat seemed to get excited at her return. “He's smart. Very friendly.”

"Yeah, a bit too friendly for a rat that just appeared out of nowhere." Dick noted, watching the rat scurry around its enclosure with curiosity. "What do you think, Babs? Any theories?"

Barbara adjusted her glasses and leaned closer to the monitors, tapping a few keys to bring up the data. "It's definitely unusual. The heart on the wrong side, the comfort around humans, and now it's showing signs of higher intelligence. This isn't just any ordinary rat. That has only been seen once before.”

“... you mean when Lex Luther-”

“Exactly.” Barbarainterrupted and gestured to the display. “A wand. Stones, papers and tomes, even quills? All of them tie back to your book.”

Dick furrowed his brow at her and she then gestured to the rat. “What was it your book said? You could bring pets?”

“A rat, an owl, or a frog.” Dick mumbled before Damien seemed to catch one.

“Are they…”

“From another universe.” Dick concluded with a slack jaw.

“One where their organs mirror our own.”

Damien's eyes widened with realization. "So, you're telling me this rat might actually be from a parallel universe? One where magic is that common?"

Barbara nodded, her expression serious. "It's starting to look that way. The items we've found, the anomalies- they might all be connected to this other world. And if this rat is any indication, living creatures can cross over as well."

Dick looked thoughtfully at the rat, now affectionately named Mr. Squeakerson. "If that's true, then we need to figure out how these portals are opening and why. There might be more at stake here than just a few random artifacts."

Damien nodded and Barbara sighed.

“I think we need to call in the others. Tell Bruce what we know.” Barbara mused and gestured to the rat.

Dick walked over to the cage and opened it, a bit surprised when the rat ran up his arm and straight to his shoulder. Like it knew exactly what he wanted.

“Huh.”

“I'll call the others.” Damian nodded, turning before Barbara called over. “Don't forget Jason!”

She could hear his groan echo off the walls.

~~~

You were stressed, you were tired. You hadn't slept since Templeton fell through the portal. You went straight back to the shack after curfew, setting everything up once more.

Luna, ever the supportive friend, had accompanied you despite the late hour. She watched quietly as you frantically arranged the moonstones and black sand, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"You need to rest.” She said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You'll think more clearly after some sleep."

You shook your head, determined. "I can't rest, Luna. Templeton is out there somewhere, and I need to find him. What if he's in danger?"

Luna sighed but didn't argue further. Instead, she waved her wand, casting a charm that made the various components float into place more efficiently. "At least let me help you. Two minds are better than one."

As you both worked, the night crept into day. Luna pushed more firm this time, asking you to at least rest before you attempt anything.

You agreed to a nap, though reluctantly, knowing that your exhaustion could lead to mistakes. Luna conjured a small, comfortable cot in the corner of the shack, and you lay down with a sigh, the weight of your worry making it hard to fully relax.

Luna sat beside you, humming a soft, soothing tune. "Just a quick nap, and then we can get back to work. Templeton will be alright. I have a feeling about it."

You nodded, your eyes drifting shut as Luna's gentle voice lulled you.

As you drifted into a fitful sleep, Luna kept watch, her wand ready and her eyes scanning the room for any signs of magical disturbances. She hoped that a brief rest would replenish your energy and clear your mind for the tasks ahead.

---

Back in Gotham, the Batcave was bustling with activity. Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake had joined the investigation, each bringing their unique skills to the table. And, unfortunately, their unique attitudes as well.

"So, this rat just appeared out of nowhere?" Bruce questioned, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity.

"Exactly," Damien replied, holding the rat gently. "And he’s not just any rat. His heart is on the wrong side, and he shows signs of higher intelligence. We believe he might be from a parallel universe."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, glancing at Barbara and Dick. "Any theories on how these portals are opening?"

Barbara nodded, pulling up a holographic display and gesturing out to each spike of energy. “We think it's intentional. Like they are testing portals.”

"Testing portals?" Bruce echoed, narrowing his eyes at the display. "That would explain the increasing frequency and the variety of objects appearing. But why?"

"Could be a number of reasons." Tim suggested, stepping forward with a thoughtful expression. "They might be trying to establish stable connections between universes, or perhaps they're searching for something specific. Like a person?”

Jason, leaning casually against a console, chimed in with a smirk. "Or someone pissed off the wrong wizard and now we're dealing with magical fallout."

Damien shot Jason a glare but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Bruce. “Whatever it is, we think it's on purpose.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "We'll need to be prepared for anything. If someone- or something- is intentionally testing these portals, it could be a prelude to something much larger."

Dick looked at Mr. Squeakerson, who was now comfortably perched on his shoulder. "And this little guy might be our best clue to figuring out what’s going on. We need to keep him safe and see what we can learn from him."

Barbara interjected, "I'll continue monitoring the energy spikes and anomalies. We need to pinpoint the exact locations and timings of these events. Maybe we can predict when the next one will happen. There may even be more than one at a time.”

Tim hummed and nodded. "I'll look into the possibility of any magical artifacts or entities that could be responsible for the portals. There might be something in our archives that matches the energy signatures we're seeing."

Jason shrugged, pushing off the console. "Guess I'll be on anomaly patrol then. Wouldn't want anything else to just drop out of the sky unannounced."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Good. We need to cover all the ground we can. Dick-”

“I'll patrol with Damien.” He interrupted and Bruce narrowed his eyes for only a moment before he nodded. “Everyone's dismissed.”

~~~

You woke up to flashing lights around you. As you opened your eyes, you were greeted with a bright yellow light, more flashing, then, suddenly, you felt like you were falling.

There was a sharp surge of pain that rocked you when your back hit the rooftop. You gasped, the wind knocked out of you as you struggled to regain your bearings. Blinking against the harsh lights and trying to make sense of your surroundings, you slowly sat up, wincing at the ache in your back. The smell of the city- smoke, asphalt, and something distinctly metallic; all hit your nose at once.

You raised your hand as you felt something warm drip from your nose, only to feel another painful shock run through you. You gave a wail of pain as your body began to glitch, as if you were some kind of faulty Sunday cartoon.

It was unbearable, and you let out a throat tearing sob as the pain rocked through you. No one was around, no one near you anyway, and the glitching seemed to get worse. The lights of the city seemed to flicker in response to your pain, and after what felt like hours, you were able to lift yourself.

Your face was covered in blood, your uniform stained with the red fluid, and your head was light.

As your blurry eyes began to focus, you took in the city around you. It was nothing like you had ever seen before; the buildings were towering structures of steel and glass, illuminated by a myriad of neon lights and billboards- some brighter than the sun itself. The noise of the city was a constant hum, a combination of distant traffic, sirens, and the occasional shout from the streets below.

You staggered to your feet, clutching your head as another wave of dizziness hit you. "Where... am I?" you whispered to yourself, trying to make sense of the alien environment.

Were you in a muggle city? Where were your things? Where was Templeton?

Your breathing grew quicker as you realized, not only did you have no clue if you popped out where everything else had but that portal that brought you here was clearly unstable. You didn't summon it, nor did you think Luna did.

She was right, she always was.

You ran your fingers through your hair with a choked sob. Growing more and more frustrated with your own stupidity- you didn't have a wand, you hardly knew any nonverbal spells, you were in the middle of nowhere, and the backdrop of screaming and rowdy life of the city didn't bring any comfort.

Your breath started coming in short, rapid gasps, each one feeling more shallow than the last. Trying to calm your sobs, only worsening it with hiccups. Your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, erratic beat that echoed in your ears. The world around you seemed to blur, the neon lights and towering buildings warping and bending in your vision.

"I... I can't... breathe.” You choked out, your voice barely a whisper. Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you clutched at your chest, trying to will your lungs to take in air. Each inhale felt like you were trying to breathe through a straw, thin and insufficient.

You stumbled, falling back down to your knees and curling up against the concrete wall. Clenching your robe as the horrible and painful glitches returned, the lights and sounds of the city mocking you as the power flickered around with you.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts at once, each one more frantic than the last. Where am I? How did I get here? What if I can't get back? What if Templeton is gone forever? The questions swirled and collided, creating a cacophony of panic that drowned out any attempt at rational thought.

The ground seemed to tilt beneath you, making it difficult to keep your balance. You reached out, grasping at nothing, desperate for something solid to hold onto.

Your vision started to narrow, darkening at the edges as the pain rattled you into nothing but a trembling lump.

As your vision continued to darken and your breaths came in ragged gasps, you heard a voice, distant at first but gradually becoming clearer.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice was filled with concern, cutting through the chaos in your mind. You tried to focus on it, using it as an anchor to the present.

A figure knelt down beside you, you couldn't make him out but he felt safe. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just breathe, okay? In and out, nice and slow." The voice was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the panic you felt inside. You tried to will away the tears that prickled your eyes.

You tried to follow the instructions, but your body was still wracked with tremors and your mind was a whirlwind of fear. The figure gently rubbed your back, trying to soothe you.

"It's okay, you're safe now.” His voice reminded you of something. Something soft, something gentle.

As you focused on the voice, you felt a small sense of calm start to push through the overwhelming panic. It was like a lifeline, something to hold onto in the midst of the storm inside your mind.

"That's it, just breathe.” The voice continued, steady and reassuring. "You're going to be okay. I'm right here with you."

You took a shaky breath, trying to match the rhythm the voice was setting. In and out, in and out. Slowly, very slowly, the world around you started to come back into focus. The neon lights were still bright, the city noise still loud, but they felt a little less overwhelming with each breath you managed to take.

As your vision cleared, you saw the face of the figure kneeling beside you. It was a large man. Well, certainly larger than you. He was in a blue and black uniform of sorts, and a symbol on his chest you couldn't make out with your hands in the way. You didn't realize that in your panic to find anything solid, you had reached out and grabbed him. Not that he seemed to mind, looking at you from behind his domino mask with such gentleness.

"Hey.” He said softly, his covered eyes tracing your face. He had such a sweet smile. "You're okay. I'm Nightwing, and you're safe now."

You nodded weakly, now gripping his arm for support. The tremors in your body were starting to subside, your breaths becoming steadier. Nightwing's presence was grounding, his calm helping to pull you out of the spiral of panic with so much ease you wondered if he had done it before.

"Can you tell me your name?" He prodded gently, not wanting to overwhelm you.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, wincing as you tasted that copper flavor, your nose was still bleeding. "{Y/N}.” You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "My name is {Y/N}."

Nightwing gave you a reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, {Y/N}. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Can you tell me what happened? How you got here?"

You took another deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I... I don't know. There was a portal, and then I was here. I don't know where here is."

Nightwing nodded, his expression serious but understanding, his smile slowly falling. In your sensitive state, you felt your heart clench as you clearly disappointed this definite guardian. "You're in Gotham City. We'll figure out the rest. Can you stand?”

“I-I don't know.” You whispered, your voice shaking and he nodded.

“That's alright, you're alright. Can I touch you?”

“Seems only fair.” You whispered and began to move your hands from his arms.

Nightwing chuckled softly at your remark, glad to see a bit of humor returning to your voice. "Alright, I'm going to help you up. Nice and easy."

He gently placed one arm around your back and another under your knees, lifting you with surprising ease. You felt a bit of a jolt, but his steady confidence helped keep you grounded. As he stood up with you in his arms, you leaned against him, feeling an odd sense of safety despite the chaos around you.

As he carefully carried you towards the edge of the rooftop, you noticed another figure standing there, watching with a mix of curiosity and concern. It was Damien, still holding the staff, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

"Another anomaly?" Damien asked, his tone skeptical.

Nightwing nodded, carefully setting you down on a nearby crate, making sure you were steady before letting go. "Looks like it. This is {Y/N}. She came through a portal, just like the other items."

Damien approached, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice carrying a hint of genuine concern despite his usual demeanor. You didn't notice Nightwing raising his eyebrows in surprise.

You nodded, still feeling a bit uneasy. Nightwing pulled out a cloth and held it out to you.

Raising it to your nose you started to stop the bleeding, watching as he put two fingers to his ear. “Oracle, we found something. Send a car.”

“Car?” You whispered and Damien narrowed his eyes at you.

“You must of hit your head pretty hard, huh?” He prodded and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Cars? Like the muggle death traps?” You pushed and the younger boy gave you the same confused look you were sending him.

“Muggles? The hell are muggles?” He pushed and your stomach sank.

Nightwing and Damien exchanged a glance, both clearly puzzled by your words. Nightwing crouched down to your level, his expression softening even more as he tried to understand.

"Muggles?" Nightwing asked gently. "You mean non-magical people, right? Like in the book I was reading?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a bit relieved that at least one of them seemed to understand. Then, your jaw dropped. “You read my book?” You pushed and he slowly nodded.

“I guess that was yours? You have a lot of explaining to do.” He slowly smirked at you and you couldn't help how your stomach fluttered at his look.

“Explaining?” You whispered.

“Those portals have been opening up everywhere. It's messing with our entire power grid.”

“What's a power grid?” You pushed again and his jaw clenched a bit.

Damien gave a huff. “This will be a fun one to explain.”

The second the car pulled up you fell quiet. Looking down the several story drop. You looked between the two boys curiously before Dick smiled at you and easily wrapped his arm around your back. “Go ahead and wrap your arms around me, yeah?”

You gave a small yelp at the sudden contact, making him chuckle, which made you pout, furrowing your brow at him. Still, you listened, and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling closer to him much like a cat would. He sent Damien a wink and the young boy groaned, rolling his eyes.

You peaked just past Dick’s shoulder and watched as he pulled out a bat shaped trinket, only for him to shoot it out and latch onto the side of the building. “Tighten that grip, I won't choke.”

“Keep teasing me and I'll actually do it.” You huffed before you gave a small gasp at you own tone, Dick just barked out a laugh in absolute delight at your snark.

Then he jumped.

And you prayed to Merlin for a proper savior.

You watched as the hook began to slow your fall, staring curiously around you with an awe strucken face. Nightwing helped you down again and let you in, instructing the younger boy to go home on foot, it seems there were only two seats.

The ride there was filled with mindless chatter. It was mostly one sided, as Nightwing spoke to a small device in his ear.

You sat in the car, your mind racing to catch up with everything that had happened. The city outside the window was a blur of lights and movement, a stark contrast to the more familiar and magical world you had come from. Nightwing's calm voice was a soothing background as he communicated with his team.

"Yeah, we're on our way to the Batcave." Nightwing said into his earpiece. "We have a guest who might be able to help us with the anomalies. We'll need everyone there."

You glanced at him, your curiosity piqued. You kept your voice low so as to not interrupt what was happening. "Batcave? Is that like your headquarters?"

Nightwing nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Clever girl. Yeah, go ahead and lean back, we don't know what happened to you.”

You nodded and compiled easily. You found yourself wondering how easy you would be to kidnap, just send you to a foreign place and send in a hot guy who called you pet names and you were done for.

Nightwing continued his conversation through the earpiece, his tone professional yet reassuring. "Oracle, make sure the med bay is ready. We need to check for any injuries or anomalies. And get Bats and the others up to speed."

You felt yourself slowly slipping, the exhaustion form it all catching up with you. As the car sped through the city streets, the combination of Nightwing's soothing voice and the gentle hum of the engine began to lull you into a sense of calm. The adrenaline from your earlier panic attack was wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and exhausted.

"Just hang in there a little longer." Nightwing pushed gently, noticing your drooping eyelids. "We'll be at the Batcave soon, and then we can get you checked out and figure out how to help you."

You nodded weakly, feeling comforted by his presence. The car finally came to a long tunnel, one you couldn't see a thing in. Finally, a light broke through the darkness showing a massive cave. Nightwing helped you out of the vehicle, his grip was firm and the last thing you remembered was seeing the symbol on his chest, much more clearly.

It was a bat- of course it was.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Baby Fever - Max Verstappen

<word count - 10,231>

You walked through the Red Bull garage, keeping your head down as to not make eye contact with anyone. It was your first day back after taking the past week off due to not being able to look at anything or anyone Red Bull related recently. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the one person responsible for your pain and heartache. Funnily enough, he was also the person responsible for your impending arrival in around seven and a half months time.

—

You didn't know how to feel, the verdict for the rest of your life sitting on the bathroom counter. Scott was sat downstairs of your shared home in Milton Keynes, completely unaware of what was unfolding upstairs. You had had your suspicions for a few weeks, but Scott had made a firm point that he never wanted children and he never would.

As the seconds agonisingly ticked by, you wondered what you were going to do if it turned out to be positive. You'd have to tell Scott before you both left for the next race, and you'd have to tell Christian so you could plan maternity leave. You might even have to stop travelling to races. If it was negative, you would forget about it and move on.

Checking your watch, you saw that the time was up and it was time to reveal your fate. You turned the test over, clapping your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. The two lines were clear as day, and there was no denying it, as well as the three others you took afterwards.

You had to convince yourself that it would all be alright and Scott would be completely fine with this. Your mind even played the part of the story where he was happy, no, overjoyed with this. But, before the tale could end, the footage skipped back to the realistic outcome.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you took a few deep breaths and reassured yourself that, no matter what happened, everything would be fine. You trudged downstairs, the tests in your hands behind your back. "Scott?" You called out, even though you knew he was in the kitchen typing away at his laptop. "In here, babe," he responded, not taking his eyes off the screen as you walked in.

"Are you free to talk for a second?" You asked, sitting down opposite him at the table.

"I will be in just a minute," he said, finishing typing out what you assumed was an email and clicked the mouse. "OK, I am all yours," Scott said, resting his head on his hands.

"I-" you started, but you couldn't find the words to say it. Instead, you placed all of the tests down in front of him and tried to read his facial expression. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked up at you as he held one in his hands. "Are you serious?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You nodded slowly, aggressively picking at the sides of your fingers it of the pure fear and nervousness. "What are you going to do with it?" he asked, his tone cold as it stabbed your heart.

They way he called your child an it cut deeper than anything you had ever felt before. "I don't know," you whispered, looking down at the table as tears slipped down your cheeks. He should be comforting you, telling you it was alright and he wasn't mad.

"I know what I want you to do with it," he bit, throwing the tests at you from across the table. It was at that point you knew exactly what you were going to do. Your maternal instincts kicked in, and you realised the dream you had never had.

You wanted to keep your child, whether Scott was going to be there or not. "I want to keep it, Scott," you said, looking at him through glassy, reddened eyes. "I want to watch our child grow and bring them up to be the best person they can be," you told him.

"Well you're on your own then," he said, standing from the table and swiping his laptop from the surface. After all of these years of being together, he decided he was done when you needed him most. "So we're done," you said, your voice unwavering.

"If you're keeping it, then yes," he spoke, before ascending the stairs. Either way, you knew you were done with him. If you did decide to be rid of the baby, you didn't want to be with someone who would treat you like that. If anything, it was for the better that you saw Scott's true colours.

That very same night, you packed your bags and left for a friends house.

—

Seeing Scott on your first day back was inevitable, but you still wished you could have avoided him completely. You caught him looking at you, but that took your attention away from the other pair of eyes that were lingering.

Max had liked you as soon as Christian introduced you to the team and as part of the media team. You were stunning, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were easy to talk to and media duties quickly became the best part of his week.

There was, of course, the factor of Scott that was stopping him from asking you out. People had encouraged him, but he didn't want to be a homewrecker. Sure, he hadn't heard great things about Scott and he wasn't a fan of the guy when they had spoken, but you seemed to love him and he didn't want to get in the way of that.

He thought you looked different after your week off. You weren't as well kempt as you normally were, and your face was pale and sunken. It was the weekend of Australia, and you were wearing a thick jacket that just wasn't needed.

Thankfully, the media office was empty as you sat and fought back the tears. You needed to stay to provide for your impending new arrival, but it was going to be one of the hardest things you would ever do. Seeing that piece of shit everyday was going to hurt.

People had been casting dubious glances at you as you walked around, and you heard the whispers of why Scott had been at work and you hadn't. You heard that people had asked, and he had just said you were sick. He didn't have the guts to tell them that you were pregnant and he broke it off when he found out.

You heard footsteps approaching the door and wiped the stray tears away as you tried to make yourself look busy. "Hey, Christian said he wants to talk to you," Checo's press officer popped her head around the door. "OK, thank you," you smiled, giving yourself a minute to compose yourself before going to see your boss.

This wasn't a surprise since you had emailed earlier in the morning asking to speak to him. You strolled through the Red Bull building, earning more quick glances as you smiled at them. You didn't want to let them believe that you were bothered by them in any capacity.

Taking one final deep breath, you knocked on the door of Christian's office and heard a muffled 'Come in' from the inside. You opened the door and saw Christian sat at his desk. You knew the meeting would have to be short - he was a very busy man.

"Take a seat," he said, leaning back in his chair and pointing towards the two black, leather chairs in front of the desk. You sat down, crossing your legs. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"In a few months, I'm going to have to take some time off," you started, Christian nodding along as you thought he was getting the hints. "Scott too then, I'm guessing?"

"No, no. Just me," you said, averting your eyes to your hands. Deep down, you knew he would ask and it was only natural to - it takes two to tango. But you didn't think it would be this awkward to tell people.

Christian raised an eyebrow, "You're pregnant, right?" he confirmed.

"Yes, but Scott and I aren't together anymore," you told him, hearing another knock at the door. You stood as you figured the person on the other side also had an important reason to talk to Christian, and approached the door. "Congratulations," he said, and you simply smiled at him.

Opening the door, you saw the Dutchman on the other side. "Hey, Max," you quietly said, gently pushing past him and down the corridor. "Hey, Y/N," he replied, and he couldn't help but worry about you immediately.

He noticed the tears brimming in your eyes and you weren't your usual, happy self. "Is she alright?" Max asked, entering the room and sitting in the same place that you had.

"She's going through some things at the moment," Christian said, not wanting to tell everything about your problems to Max. "I heard some rumours about her and Scott, but that's the most I know,"

"They're not together anymore, but she's pregnant," Christian said, letting Max connect the dots. Christian carried on with whatever the meeting was supposed to be about, but he couldn't concentrate. It was obvious that Scott had left her, but whether it was because of the pregnancy or not was still ambiguous.

—

As the weeks had gone by, it had become increasingly easier to do work, and it had given you something to focus on instead of Scott. Christian had allowed you to work less and you were going abroad less. But, you had insisted on coming to Monaco.

You loved the lavishness of it all and the sparkle of the marina at night was magical and mesmerizing.

Max had been looking out for you more, but you thought he was just being nice since the news spread about the soon-to-be mini Red Bull team member. He was always asking if you wanted a drink or a snack, or offering his drivers room if you needed a quiet moment around the track.

You had woken up on the morning of the Thursday in Monaco with horrendous morning sickness. You had thrown up a few times, but got ready for work and headed to the track as usual. You and the team had planned for Max and Checo to do some challenges at the marina for YouTube.

The first half had gone great, and the two of them were having a blast. It was hilarious to watch and you knew that fans would love it. For about half an hour, you were having a break and you took the time to sit in the corner of the dock, trying to bypass the sickness you felt.

You ran your hands over the small bump that you had as a way to soothe yourself. "Hey, you alright?" you felt a hand on your shoulder as Max sat down.

He had been watching you more than he usually would over the past couple weeks. Even if you didn't need taking care of, he still wanted to make sure you were alright since Scott wasn't around to do it. From afar, he noticed that you looked very uncomfortable.

You were sat completely motionless, staring at the water and rubbing your stomach lightly. "Yeah, just feeling a but nauseous," you smiled, looking at him. His smile had a magical quality that could put you at ease. You were glad to be spending more time with Max recently, and you were slowly getting to know each other.

"Here, this might help," he said, handing you a bottle of water that he had gotten for you before he came. "I noticed you didn't drink anything since the start of the shoot, and you need to stay hydrated," he told you. You were glad you had Max to think of these things, since you didn't have Scott to.

"So you've been watching me?" you teased, playfully nudging him as his cheeks burned an intense red. "I'm just making sure you're alright, not that you can't do that yourself, but-" he rambled, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

His rambles were cut short by a sharp intake of breath from you as another wave of nausea rippled over you. "You can go back to your hotel if you want, I'm sure these guys will be fine without you," he said, the worry for you returning.

He hated seeing you in pain, and he wished he could just take you in his arms and hold you until it went away. But, he didn't think you could ever feel the same. You didn't think he would want to be with you if you had another man's baby on the way.

"I'll be fine. Besides, my hotel is on the other side of the city and I don't feel like paying for a taxi," you explained, trying to ignore the sickness.

Max had three options. He could: pay for your taxi, offer to take you to his apartment that was just around the corner, or he could leave it and let you stay. He decided to shoot his shot and ask if you wanted to go to his to relax.

"I could take you to my apartment. It's just around the corner and you can have a lie down," he explained, and you couldn't ignore the butterflies that came to life in your stomach when he offered. "Thank you, Max, really, but I can't just leave work," you said.

"I'll sort it out," he said, wanting nothing more than for you to let him help you, to let him take care of you. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course," he said, standing and offering his hand out for you to take. You took it, and a small part of your heart screamed at you to keep hold. But, your head got there first and forced your fingers to unclasp from his.

"Are you sure because-" you started.

"Y/N, don't get stressed, it's not good for the baby. You relax and I will take care of it," he told you, turning away out of embarrassment. Had he been reading up on pregnancy and babies? Yes. But, he didn't want to make it obvious. He had subconsciously made it his duty to keep you calm and relaxed at all times.

He led you through Monte Carlo, taking you down side streets and shortcuts to get you there quicker. The pair of you entered a lavish looking apartment complex and the doorman greeted you with a nod. He belled the elevator and you headed up to the top and to the penthouses.

The doors slid open with a ding and you were met with a very modern set up. Your favourite part was instantly the large, floor to ceiling windows that provided the most incredible view of Monaco. You could see people beneath you, as well as the marina with all of the yachts lined up. For a moment, you wondered which one was Max's.

"My room is through here," he said, walking towards one of the doors and opening it to reveal a grand master bedroom, "There is some comfier stuff in the wardrobe, so grab whatever you want, and the bathroom is through there if you want a shower," he explained, giving you a mini tour of the room.

"And you can eat or drink whatever you want, make yourself at home. If you need anything, call me and I'll be back as soon as I can," he smiled, leaving you to get comfy and the elevator dinged to tell you he was gone. You wandered through to the master bathroom and, for a bathroom, it was breathtaking.

The shower was huge and the bath in the corner of the room was massive. You couldn't resist the shower, so you set it running and found a clean towel in the cabinet. After stripping off your clothes, you stepped into the stream of hot water.

The water was so soothing and eased the nausea a great deal. You squirted some of the shampoo that was on the side into the palm of your hand and worked it into your scalp. The suds slid down your back as you washed it out of your hair, before repeating the process with the conditioner.

Once you were out of the shower, you towel dried your hair and slipped your shorts back up your legs. You didn't feel like putting your Red Bull polo back on as it was too small now that you had a baby bump, and it wasn't the most comfortable.

Trudging back out to the bedroom, you opened the wardrobe and picked out one of Max's hoodies. You had seen him in it a few times, and it was one of your favourites. You pulled it on and it was soft against your skin.

It had been a long day, so you led down on the king sized bed. It felt weird that you were lying on Max's bed, so you were considering moving to one of the spare bedrooms or the couch. Before you could make the decision, you drifted off to sleep, the scent of Max filling your nostrils.

—

Max ran back to the marina since he was a few minutes late, but the crew thankfully weren't bothered. They asked about where you had gone, but he just said you weren't feeling too great so he took you back to the hotel.

"You have it bad, mate," Checo teased, appearing next to Max as he arrived.

"Pfft, no I don't," Max tried to play it off, but the Mexican knew his friend too well. "I was just being friendly," he tried to explain away why he had taken her back.

"You didn't take her back to the hotel, Max. You took her to your apartment," Checo said, and Max looked flabbergasted. "Her hotel is too far away, and your apartment isn't. It's the only logical place," Checo further explained. This guy was clever.

"Yes, I did. She's pregnant, she deserves a nice place to rest," Max said, unable to make eye contact with his fellow driver. "Normally, I'd believe you, but it doesn't help that you told us how you feel,"

"How did you know?" Max asked.

"Well, for one. You look at her like she's the only person in the world and you have taken it upon yourself to look after her, which I admire by the way. And, you told us last week," Checo told him with a smirk. He didn't tell them, did he? He didn't tell anyone, apart from when-.

Shit.

"The party," Max concluded. When he was drunk, he overshared a lot. And, he wouldn't be surprised if someone had prompted the answer. As if he had read Max's mind, Checo said, "Charles asked you if you liked Y/N, and you went on this whole spiel about how much you liked her and you wanted to ask her out,".

Max looked mortified, and Checo was getting a huge kick out of his discomfort. Before they could continue the conversation, they were called over to the dock to carry on filming.

—

Finally, the shoot had finished and Max had found it a lot duller without you there. He zoomed home, but was surprised to return to the apartment and find it completely silent. You were still there, since your shoes were still on the shoe rack.

"Y/N?" he quietly called out, but was met with no answer. You weren't in the kitchen, and you weren't in the living room either. He saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, even though he had left the door closed when he left you there.

He entered, and the sight made his heart stop. You were led there, tangled in the sea of crisp white sheets and snuggled up in one of his favourite hoodies. Your hair was almost haloed around your head. Even if he felt creepy, he allowed himself to watch you for a moment.

You looked completely peaceful and there was nothing that could harm you when you were comfortably cuddled up in his bed. He didn't have the heart to wake you up, because you needed the sleep and he wanted to leave you be.

It took every ounce of his being to resist the urge to shuffle into bed next to you and wrap his arms around you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Instead, he quietly took some different clothes out of the wardrobe and went to start on dinner. He wasn't a very good cook, but he had the stuff for pasta and it was one of the few things that he knew how to make.

He was working as quietly as possible so he didn't wake you up, but his mind kept wandering back to the image of you asleep in the other room.

After around half an hour, dinner was ready and Max would have to wake you up. He tiptoed over to his room and found you curled up in a tiny ball, arms wrapped around your torso as if you were protecting the child growing inside you.

Gently, yet hesitantly, he tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear, before moving his hand to your arm to gently shake you. "Y/N, liefje, dinners ready," the nickname slipped out, but you were still asleep.

After being shaken for a bit, your eyelids fluttered open to see Max kneeling down next to you. He was wearing sweats now, and his hair was tousled perfectly. "I made dinner and I hope you like pasta," he smiled, his hand lingering on your arm.

"Yeah, I do. I hope it's alright I slept in here, I sat down and I was out like a light," you said, sitting up. "Yeah, it's not a problem. It is the comfiest bed in this place," he laughed, helping you up out of the sunken mattress.

As you plated your food, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. His hoodie hung off your frame perfectly, and you could still see the outline of your bump. Your hair was still slightly wet as it cascaded down your back.

The pair of you sat down on the couch and you tucked yourself into the corner seat. "This is really good," you said, taking the first bite of pasta.

"Thanks, it's one of the only things I can cook properly," he joked.

"How was the shoot?"

"It was alright, the others aren't as fun as you are, though," Max complimented. It was true, he was a lot more bored without you prompting them to do things. "I'm sure you were fine," you told him.

The pair of you finished your meals and you took the plates to the sink. When Max heard the sound of the tap running, he turned his head to see you washing the dishes. "You can leave that, I'll do it later," he called, wanting you to come sit back down.

"It's alright, it's the least I can do," you said back, already finished on the first dish anyway. You finished scrubbing the dishes and let them sit on the rack to dry. Padding back over to the corner seat of the couch, you plopped down and shuffled about a bit.

"So, how's the baby and everything?" he asked apprehensively. He really wanted to know more, but he didn't know if you trusted him enough with that kind of information. "They're good. I have my next scan next week, and I'm getting some pictures," you beamed.

He loved how enthusiastic you were when talking about your child and he could tell how much you loved them already. It just made his feelings for you develop even more and it made him admire you and care for you so much more.

He had always wanted kids of his own and he was great with them, but he had never find the right person. Sitting there then, he couldn't help but think that that person could have been you.

"Can I see them when you have them?" he asked, struggling to maintain eye contact in case she said no. "Of course, I'll show you when I next see you," you said.

"Are you sure you're supposed to be flying?"

"Yeah, the doctor said I should be alright for now," you explained, glad that he was interested. Nobody had ever shown this much interest towards you and the baby apart from your friends back home, so it was nice for you to talk about it.

As you sat there, something was creeping up on you and it wasn't being quiet. Your heart was thumping out of your chest whenever you looked at him and it felt like sparks were forming whenever he touched you. Sitting here with Max was something you could get used to.

For a few more hours, you and Max talked a flowing conversation and the room was filled with laughter for the whole night. You checked your watch and saw how late it had gotten. "I'm probably going to have to head home now," you said, standing and approaching the door.

"You can stay, if you want," he offered, desperate for you to stay the night. That would mean you would be the last person he saw before he slept and the first person he saw when he woke up. He'd let you sleep in a bit and make sure you had the best breakfast so you were ready for the day.

"I wish I could, but all my vitamins and stuff are back at my hotel," you said, wanting to stay more than anything. "Can I drive you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." you nodded.

The pair of you headed to the garage and drove back to the hotel. Max swiftly rounded the car and opened the door for you. "Thank you for today, I really needed it and I've had a great time," you said, standing outside the hotel.

"No problem, I'll tell the door people to let you in if you ever want to use the apartment or anything,"

"I'll get this washed and back to you as soon as possible," you said, tugging at the soft material of his hoodie. "Keep it, it looks good on you," he smirked, and, for a moment, his mind wandered to a scenario where it was on the floor.

"Thank you, Maxie," you blushed. You placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, before dashing through the doors of the hotel lobby, leaving Max stood there with the biggest grin on his face. He had spent so long loving you from afar, that it was heavenly to imagine loving you that close. It was almost scary.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He caught a glimpse of you skipping up some stairs to the left of the foyer, so he ran inside the hotel and followed you. Just as he rounded the corner of one of the many corridors, he saw a door closing and the navy blue and orange hoodie going through it.

You heard someone knocking on your door, and you found it weird. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, you saw the Dutchman stood outside the door. "Miss me already?" you laughed, opening the door.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me one night next week?" he asked, fear taking over his body. Maybe you only saw him as a friend, but how would he know if he didn't try. "Yeah, I'd love that," you smiled, trying not to squeal with happiness.

Your feelings for Max may have been relatively new, but that didn't discredit how strongly you felt for him. Maybe it was just because you were hormonal, but something deep in your heart told you that wasn't the case.

—

You had just exited the doctor's office after going in for a routine scan. Everything was perfectly fine and you had the pictures safely secure in your bag. Just as you hopped in the car, your phone buzzed. To your excitement, it was Max asking about the evenings dinner schedule. He said he was going to pick you up at half five so you could be at the restaurant for 6.

Your heart sang at the thought of getting to go out with him outside of work and you couldn't wait to see him. Of course, you said it was fine, and tried to contain your scream of excitement as you started the car.

Now, you were planning what you were going to wear and how you wanted to do your hair. You were trying to tell yourself that he was still just being friendly. Friends went out on dinners, right? But did they go to dinners at nice restaurant and give people the keys to their apartment? You didn't know.

When you arrived home, you sprung into action of ripping through your entire closet, trying to find something that you A) wanted to wear, and B) something that fit you. You were progressively getting bigger, but you could still fit into the majority of your clothes.

In the end, you picked a long, flowing blue maxi dress. You kept the makeup light, opting for a few swipes of blush and so flicks of mascara. You had washed your hair and had just let it fall around your face in beachy waves.

At twenty minutes past five, the shrill doorbell of your house split your ears and caused you to spring up from the couch and open the door. There was no doubt that it was Max on the other side, but actually seeing him there made you want to pinch yourself to make sure it was really real.

He was wearing a navy blue button up (he looked great in navy) and a pair of slacks. Not seeing him in Red Bull merch was a shock, but a wholly welcomed one. "Hi," you grinned, welcoming him into the house.

As Max peered around, he saw empty spaces on the walls where you must have had pictures of you and Scott. He hoped that there would be pictures of the two of you up there if things went how he so desperately wanted them to.

"Let me just grab my purse and we can head off," you smiled, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached the coat rack where your bag was. Plucking it off the rack, you found Max holding a framed photo in his hands. He was stood next to the coffee table, so you knew it was one from when you were younger.

"How old were you in this?" he asked, assuming it was only a few years ago. It was recent, at least. "I was about nineteen?" you said, trying to count the years back in your head.

"Really? You have not changed a bit," he said, analysing you every feature in the picture, then comparing it to the real you. It was astonishing how you hadn't aged a day over all of those years. If anything, you looked more alive and glowing now than you did in the picture.

"A lot has changed about me, Maxie," you sighed, thinking about how naive you were back then. If someone had told you that you would be a single mother-to-be, and the child's father was an absolute piece of shit, you would have laughed at them.

"And it's all for the better," he complimented. You turned away to cover up the blush that was already creeping up onto your cheeks and walked to the door. Exiting the house, you locked the door behind you and started walking down the stone path to the car.

Max skipped in front of you, opening the car door for you. "You look breathtaking tonight," he softly smiled, and you were too close to melting to the ground. "Thank you," you smiled. You hadn't been complimented on your appearance in a while, even when you were still with Scott.

The drive to the restaurant was short and sweet, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The outside was clad with windows and the lighting was warm yet intimate. This place was nice. Really nice. As soon as the wait staff saw Max, they led you right through to a cozy booth in the corner.

As you walked, Max tentatively placed his hand on the small of you back and it felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins. You had it, and you had it bad for him. For Max, just getting to take you out to dinner was dizzying after pining after you for all that time.

The plates had just been cleared away, and a thought struck you. "I've got something to show you," you giggled, reaching into your bag and producing the photos you had gotten today. Passing them to him, you noticed how his eyes lit up at the sight of them.

Running his fingers over the features of your child, he felt an overwhelming sense of love fill his heart. Everything about them was perfect, and they looked just like you, even if it was still early on. He mentally reprimanded himself for loving something so small so much, since he didn't feel he had a right to.

The child wasn't his, and nor were you. Something that felt like a pang of jealousy rippled through his body. This was what he had wanted for years, and there was no one better in his mind for him. He didn't care that the child wasn't biologically his, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he would love them like his own and give them, and you, the best life he could possibly provide.

But, he left like he was getting way to ahead of himself. They were only on their first date, and he didn't want to rush anything.

"Wow," was all he could manage to get out as his eyes were transfixed on the tiny face of your baby. He left his mouth slightly agape. You found it adorable at how bewildered he was at the child, and those three precious words were thrown at the front of your mind and you had to swat them away before you blurted anything out.

It was the hormones, you were sure of it.

"Have you thought of any names?" he asked, wanting to know as much as you were willing to tell you. What you didn't need to know, was that he had been brainstorming names the night before. He couldn't help himself.

They were all Dutch names, so he didn't think you'd like them. "Not particularly, I haven't thought about it much to be honest," you told him, "Have you got any suggestions?"

Max pretended to look like he was thinking, and as if he didn't have ideas already. "Is it alright if they're Dutch?"

"Yeah, of course,"

"Aleta is nice, that was popular for a while. Ruben is also nice, not as popular but still," he said, itching to talk more about babies. He had a very bad case of baby fever at the moment. "I like those, a lot," you smiled, enjoying talking about this with someone and, for a few short seconds, it felt like you were two parents talking about your first child together.

"Can I get you two any coffees or desserts?" the cheerful waiter asked, his notepad out ready for your order. "That warm chocolate fudge cake is sounding way to good, so I'll take that, please," you smiled, handing the dessert menu back to the waiter.

"I'm alright, thank you," Max shook his head when the waiter looked to him. "I will take a cappuccino, though," he said. The waiter walked away to the kitchen, ready to hand in your order.

"The things I would do for a coffee," you half complained, half joked, missing the buzz that caffein gave you. "Oh, sorry, I didn't even think," he panicked, ready to call the waiter back over and cancel the coffee. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. You can have whatever you want,"

A few minutes later, the waiter was back with Max's perfectly brewed cappuccino and set it down in front of him. You found it odd that he didn't touch it for a short while. "You going to drink that, or are you going to tease me?" you laughed.

"I was waiting until yours got here,"

"Oh, start, it'll get cold,".

It wasn't long before your hot chocolate fudge cake was place in front of you, chocolate sauce oozing off the top. You wasted no time tucking into it, and you could tell that Max was staring longingly at it. "You want some?" you asked, seeing as he looked at his now pitiful cappuccino.

"No, it's yours," he shook his head, struggling not to just steal the plate off of you.

"Come on, I know you want some," you said, holding the fork out to him. Without a second glance, he took the bite and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The gooey, chocolate, fudginess was one of the best things he had ever tasted.

"Can I have some more?" he mumbled, earning a hearty laugh from you. As cliche as it sounded, everyone else in the restaurant faded away and all he could hear was the angelic sound of your laugh through the noise.

In the end, you ended up sharing the cake as Max couldn't get enough. He paid the bill, much to your protest, and you headed out to the carpark. The night air was chilling as you walked towards the car, and Max couldn't help but notice the shivers you were having.

Without a second thought, he shrugged his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. "The car is literally right there," you said, but you admired his gesture a great deal.

"I know, but I can't have you or the baby getting cold." If it wasn't for the darkness of the night, you would see him getting as red as a tomato. "Well thank you, Maxie,"

Max drove you home, dropping you off on the doorstep. "Can I take you out again one night?" he stumbled over his words. He enjoyed taking you out and spoiling you, and he wanted to carry on doing so. "Yeah, I've had a lot of fun. Thank you for dinner, Maxie," you smiled, wanting to bring him in the house, but you both had work the next day.

"Anytime, anytime," he smiled, turning to walk back towards the car.

"Max!" you called out after him, jogging down the stone paving. You draped the jacket back around his shoulders and cupped his cheek with one hand. You swiftly kissed him on the cheek, saying a quick, "Goodnight, Max," before you closed the door.

—

Over the past couple of weeks, you and Max had been on a multitude of dates, most of the time it was more than once a week. You saw each other pretty much every day at work, and talked most evenings over the phone.

You had gone on all sorts of different dates, from movies, to dinners, to boating afternoons. He had even tried to teach you to play golf, but you weren't much good. 

You had a dinner date scheduled tonight, but you really weren't feeling up to it tonight. You had been nauseous and had a heachache all day, so you didn't want to leave the house. Max had asked Christian to send you home early, and he had done exactly that.

However, you didn't want to cancel your date, so you invited him over to yours for movie night. You wore a pair of sweats and the hoodie he gave you; you had the snacks and drinks all set out on the coffee table.

You had already told him to just let himself in, so the sound of the front door opening made ropes of happiness lash your entire being. "Take a seat and get ready for the best night of your life," you smiled as he sat right next to you.

Max knew any night with you would be one of the best, but tonight was the night he wanted to make his move. What the move was? He didn't know yet.

As the movie rolled on and you munched on the snacks, your neck was starting to hurt due to the position you were sat in. You let your neck muscles soften as you rested your head onto Max's shoulder, and you felt him tense up a bit.

But, he was back to being relaxed almost instantly. As the movie went on, Max slung an arm around your shoulders as he tried to build up the courage to tell you he liked you. But, something was still holding him back. He didn't necessarily know if you felt the same.

It was as if you had read his mind, as you plucked up the nerve to grab his hand. You laced your fingers together, and his hand was a lot warmer in yours. He started gently running his thumb up and down and, even though it was small, it was still a soothing gesture.

You stayed like that through the whole movie, until the credits started to roll. Neither of you were really focusing on it, though. You turned your head to rest your chin on Max's shoulder, and you just admired him. He also turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his lips when he met your gaze.

There was no better time, so he leant in until your lips connected. It was instant sparks, until the kiss deepened. You had both been waiting for this, and you didn't want to be the one to end it. Fortunately, Max pulled away and looked at you.

A million thoughts raced through his mind and he wanted to dive straight back into kissing you. "I really like you," he muttered, letting his hand linger on the side of your face. He had just taken the plunge into ice cold water that he had been teetering on the edge of for years.

"I really like you too," you said back. Max had just emerged from the surface of the water and euphoria filled his veins. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, pulling you closer to you. The feeling of finally getting to hold you in his arms was beyond winning any race or championship, and he never wanted to let go.

"I don't know, Maxie. It's not that I don't like you, because I really do. Like, a lot. But I don't want to rush you because I need something that's forever because I don't want to bring a child up in an environment where there's someone coming and going. They need stability," you explained.

You knew Max would never hurt you on purpose, but you needed a safe, warm, loving environment for your baby. "I get that, and I want to give that to you. You deserve someone to love you, and the baby more than anything else in the world. I want to be that person, and I completely understand if you don't want to accept and wait, because I'll be here," he said.

That was when you had an epiphany. It was like this feeling that everything was finally falling into place and that you were in the right spot in life. You had never felt anything like this with Scott, and your heart was yelling at you, screaming at you to let Max into your life as more than a friend.

Something in your gut knew he was the right one, and you'd be stupid not to accept that. "I want to be your girlfriend, Max. I'd be an idiot not to," you smiled, and the elated look on his face told you you had made the right decision.

He kissed you again with all the love and compassion he had pent up since he first saw you, and he never thought, not in his wildest dreams, that he would get to have you like this. It was pure perfection.

—

"Y/N! Come on, we need to go!" Max shouted up the stairs to you as he stood in the kitchen, fidgeting on the spot out of nervousness. "Max, we don't need to be there for another forty five minutes," you yelled back, finishing wrapping the hair tie around your hair. 

"If we're early, they might let us in sooner," he bartered, standing near the front door to try and hurry you along a bit. "They run on appointments, not first come first serve," you told him, heading down the stairs. 

"Please?" Max pouted, as if he were a small child asking for more sweets, "I'm just really excited," he said as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"I know, so am I," you smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"If we go now, we can go get ice cream," he bargained, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from side to side. "Can I get a sundae?"

"You can get whatever you want," he reassured, hoping it would win you over and let him take you earlier. "OK, we can go," you said as he bounded out of the front door and to your car door, opening it for you. 

Slipping your arms through the sleeves of your coat, you hopped in the car with him. He held his hand on your thigh throughout the entire drive, and it was his small actions of affection that made you fall even more in love with him every day.

Once you had parked the car, Max practically dragged you through the doors of the doctor's office and checked in. He sat in the chair fidgeting until you were called in. "Max, calm down," you said, placing a hand on his bouncing knee. 

"Sorry, I'm just really excited," he grinned, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

"I'm glad you are." It was refreshing to see someone so excited to be with you as this was the first time you had brought someone to your scan. The nurse came out and called you in and you led down on the bed like always. 

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, squirting the gel onto her hands. 

"I'm great thank you," you smiled, watching as Max looked bewildered as he gazed around the room. "Who's this?" she asked.

"This is Max, he's my boyfriend," you said. She knew Max wasn't the father since she was one of the first people to hear about what Scott had done, but she liked the look of him. He seemed put together and polite. 

Instinctively, you lifted your shirt and held your breath as she rubbed the cold substance on your belly. As she manoeuvred the machine over your stomach, Max gripped your hand in glee. His eyes were glued to the screen and the look on his face was priceless. 

On the screen, you could see the body of your child and it was one of the most magical experiences of your life. Peeking at Max, you could see he had tears in his eyes. "Maxie, darling, don't cry," you said, the sight of him crying nearly setting you off.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-" he started, unable to find the words to describe how happy and elated he felt. Seeing that small foetus on the screen filled his heart with so much love and light he was almost full to bursting. 

"It's pretty magnificent, huh?" you asked, averting your eyes back to the screen.

Max still hadn't uncovered the ability to speak, and just nodded with his mouth slightly agape. You printed off two more sets of pictures, one for you and one for Max, and left the doctor's knowing that your baby was perfectly happy and healthy. 

"Ice cream time!" you squealed, clapping your hands.

"Of course, how could I forget?" he smiled, shaking his head. 

—

Max had disappeared upstairs for around twenty minutes, but you didn't really question it. He mentioned something about a phone call, so you just let him do whatever. "Liefje? Can you come here for a second?" he shouted down to you.

"Coming!" you replied, pausing the TV show you were watching and trudging up the stairs. "Yeah?" 

"I'm in here!" he called, his voice carrying from the bedroom. You walked through and saw that there were no lights on anywhere. The bathroom door opened and you saw some candles were lit on the inside. 

From somewhere, Max emerged with a huge bouquet of blood red roses in his hands. "How on Earth have you-" you started, trying not to burst into tears at his gesture. Suddenly, a figure dashed out of wardrobe, downstairs and out of the front door.

"I had a bit of help," he laughed, and you could tell by the sound of the giggle that it was a certain Aussie helping him out while he was in the UK. "Clearly," you playfully scoffed, taking the roses from him and inhaling their sweet scent. 

"What's all this for?" you asked, capturing his lips in yours and giving him a compassionate kiss. "Ik hou van je," he spoke in Dutch, and you just blinked at him. He had been teaching you bits of Dutch, but that was not part of your vocabulary yet. 

"What's ik?" he asked, teacher Max coming out in full swing. 

"I," you slowly said, not able to connect the dots and see where he was going with this impromptu Dutch lesson. "And what is je?" 

"You," you said, squinting at him as you thought. 

"Translate it on your phone," he instructed, the cheeky grin on his face becoming more prominent and hard to conceal. "Ik hou van je," he repeated as you typed it into the translator app. 

Refreshing the page and using different translators, they all gave you those three precious words as the answer. You flashed the phone at Max to get confirmation, and he simply nodded. "Ik hou van je," he repeated a final time.

"I love you too," you said as the words on the screen were blurred with tears of pure, unbridled joy. Scott had never made you feel like this, even when you first made your declarations of love to each other.  Max was special. 

"Let me put those in a vase," he said, plucking the roses out of your hands and running downstairs to water them and set them on the side. You strode into the bathroom, seeing the tub filled up with bubbles and candles dotted around the room. 

He had even sprinkled some rose petals on the top of the froth.

You had just finished stripping off and were about to step into the bath, when you heard rushed footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait for me. The last thing I need is you slipping," Max said, taking your hand and helping you sink into the water. 

It wasn't long before Max was clambering in behind you, pulling you flush against him so your back was to his front. His hands instinctively moved to rest on your swollen stomach, gently massaging the area. 

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and fully relax as Max peppered a few kisses in your hair. "Je bent geweldig," he softly mumbled.

"In het Engels, alsjeblieft," you responded, your brain not being in the mood to try and recall your Dutch. "You're incredible. I can give you some synonyms if you want. You're perfect, amazing, magnificent, spectacular," he started to list, "Do you want me to carry on?"

"Yes, but you probably shouldn't, my ego is inflating a huge deal right now," you smiled. Scott never did these kinds of things, and if you were still with him, you'd be sat in silence, watching TV or something. 

Max was brilliant, and he thought the world of you. There was no better way to spend evenings than with you in his arms and relaxing, away from the prying eyes of the world. 

—

You had just reached the seven month mark and were getting ready to take maternity leave. You were desperate to stay at work to see Max close out the season with a title, and were planning to go to Abu Dhabi with him for the last race.

The doctor had said you could fly and be fine, and you knew Max would be watching you like a hawk for the whole thing.

Today was one of those days when the nausea was lingering throughout, and you were counting down the days until you could leave - even if you could leave whenever you wanted. Max had woken up early with you as you sprang out of bed and were reminded of how much your child loves you.

Having him by your side was the best thing that had happened to you for a while, and it was amazing to not have to go through it alone anymore. He had tried to convince you not to go to work and to stay at home, but you refused. You wanted to carry on your day as normal.

You noticed his eyes on you all day, and he was checking up on you all the time and you couldn't catch a break. Before the end of the season, you were having a meeting with Max, Checo, Christian and some other people in the team.

You had needed to finish something off before the meeting, so you were a few seconds late and all of the chairs in the boardroom were full. You were happy to stand in the corner, but someone wasn't. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted someone standing up. "Y/N," he called, nodding at the chair.

You sat down and Max stood behind you, and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. Roughly around halfway through the meeting, another, massive nauseous wave washed over you and there was no suppressing it this time.

"Sorry, I'll be back in two minutes," you managed to get out before rushing out of the room and towards the nearest bathroom. Fumbling with the door, you managed to get in just in time and threw up in the nearest toilet.

The door opened up instantly, and your hair was pulled back behind your neck and a hand was rubbing up and down your back softly. It wasn't long before you were done, and you looked up at Max through glassy eyes. "You go back to the meeting, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile.

"Not a chance, liefje," he said, grabbing some toilet roll and gently dabbing around your mouth. "You're going home, come on," he said, tugging you into a hug.

"It's alright, I'll be fine," you said, the nausea going away after letting it all out.

"No, Y/N. I'm not taking no for an answer, I'm taking you home," he instructed quite forcefully. There was no point in arguing, so you walked out with him, hand in hand. You had only told people in Red Bull and a few close friends about you, but you weren't ready to tell the world yet.

As you walked past the boardroom, Max nodded at Christian and it was enough for him to know that you were going home. Max got you home and escorted you through the door and down onto the couch. "You stay there, and I'll be back in half an hour," he kissed you on the lips, then planted a soft kiss in your hair.

"And you stop making your mommy sick, it's not fair," he laughed, gently rubbing your stomach before he left. Then, there you were, left in the house until Max got back.

—

After the boardroom incident, Christian had forced you to go onto maternity leave early, and he promised he would still pay you for the extra time taken off. Now, you were in the private terminal of the airport, waiting for him to return to your shared apartment in Monaco.

You had flown over to live with him once you had gotten off work, and he was still trying to convince you to be a full time, stay at home mum. Through walked Max, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his features more sunken after his flight from Abu Dhabi.

His stature immediately straightened up when he spotted you walking towards him, "I missed you so much," he whispered into your hair as he held you in his arms. Now, you had him all to yourself for a few months.

"We've missed you more," you said as he moved his hands to your stomach.

"Have they been causing you any problems while I've been away?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "No, she hasn't," you smirked, waiting for him to get the hint.

"She?" he beamed, hoping he had heard you correctly. You zealously nodded at him, watching as his face contorted into the happiest expression a man could have on his face. "I love you so much. I love both of you so fucking much," he breathed, holding you as closely and as tightly as he could have.

"I love you too, Maxie,"

—

"Shit I am tired," you huffed, leaning back in the pillows of your hospital bed.

"You did incredibly, liefde," he beamed proudly, kissing you on the forehead. He had just undergone the most magical experience a man could go through, and he was so glad you had allowed him to be here.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Max asked, and you were slightly scared.

"Is this something I want to hear right now," you moaned, that question almost never had a happy ending. "Yes, it is. If not, I completely get it and I respect your decision 100%, but I want to give her my last name," there had been no indication that he wanted to do this, but now it seemed like the best decision you could make for her. He thought he was moving too fast, but it might as well have been now over never. 

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and Max thought you weren't happy about it. It was quite the opposite. You wanted this more than anything. You had someone who was willing to give himself to you and your daughter. "She is your daughter, Max. She's a Verstappen," you happy cried, gazing at her as she slept in the cot in the corner of the room. "And I want you to be one too," he stated, shifting off the chair beside your bed and onto one knee on the floor.

From his pocket, he produced a small, black, velvet box and opened it to reveal the most stunning ring you had ever seen. "I know it's soon, but I want to prove to you that I will be here for you, and our daughter forever and that I love the two of you more than anything in the world," he said, trying to choke back the tears, "Will je met me trouwen?"

There was no confusion with what that phrase meant. "Yes, Max. A million times yes," you said as he slipped the ring on your finger. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the right thing for not only you, but for your daughter. 

Had he been bombarding you with a lot fo life-changing decisions? Yes, but he couldn't resist the perfect opportunity. 

You shuffled up on the bed and pulled Max on with you, resting your head on his chest and letting your weight rest on him. You had had a long few hours, that was for sure. So much had happened, and you were completely drained and needed a lot of sleep to replenish your energy.

"Have you guys decided on a name?" The nurse who was drafting the birth certificate asked.

You took one look at Max and your little angel in the corner, "Aleta Verstappen," you proudly spoke. The nurse smiled and asked for the spelling, which Max happily gave her. It wasn't long before you had fallen asleep and dreamt of the life you had built. 

—

You and Max were woken up by the shrill cry of your daughter ringing through the house. "You stay, I'll go," Max sleepily grumbled, rubbing his eyes and shuffling out of bed. This was your first night back at home since Aleta was born, and you were still unbelievably tired. 

The cries stopped shortly after, but as Max reemerged in the doorway, the screeches continued. You went to get up, but Max turned and went back. Yet again, the cried stopped, and your heart nearly did when Max walked into the room with Aleta held to his chest. It was the most perfect sight. 

"Max, she needs to sleep by herself," you told him, nearly falling back to sleep. 

"It's just one night, liefje," he said, and you were too tired to argue with him. He led back next to you, your newborn snuggly cuddled to his chest. It wasn't long before she was back asleep, and so was Max. Everything was perfection, and the two people in front of you were what mattered the most to you. 

You never thought perfection truly existed, but you were proven wholly wrong as you led there, the difficulties of the past month showing themselves as completely worth it. 

A/N - Do we want a bonus chapter? Or have we had enough after 10k+ words &lt;3. BTW I haven't proof read this...

|masterlist|

[haikyu-mp4]

Hi! Your Haikyuu x 1D event sounds so exciting! I was initially going to request Better Than Words with Nishinoya but it's no longer available 🙈 If it's still available, could I please listen to I Would with Nishinoya instead? I love the song but I always found it sad. If it's still available, I'm excited to see how you write it, I'd always choose Noya over anyone ❤️ Thank you for doing this! Hope you're doing good!

Now playing... I Would

word count; 624 – gn!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event

Training camp is not for the weak. That’s what Nishinoya said as he was forming an alliance with Tanaka and Yamamoto so that the three of them could protect their precious managers.

Kiyoko had managed to recruit you around the same time as Yachi, meaning you were still quite new to the volleyball club. Because Nishinoya was in your class, he saw it as his responsibility to make sure you were comfortable and happy. It might also be because of his huge crush on you, but that’s still up for debate.

Every moment he’s not immersed in a practice game, he’s keeping a watchful eye on you. His mental reports mostly say “smiling”, “looking cute” and “clapping, probably for me”, so he’s happy with the progress so far. You seem to be settling in very well.

Until there’s a break, and while he’s chugging down more water than what should fit in his body, he sees you flirting it up with Kuroo, standing between two of the courts.

Kuroo could never be the right guy for you. He could never treat you the way Nishinoya would. He’s also way too tall, it would be bad for your neck.

Noya’s gasp was audible and made you turn your head, only to see your favourite libero with his teeth practically bared like an animal. You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head and telling Kuroo good luck on his next game.

When you returned to your team’s side, you bumped your elbow into Nishinoya’s arm. “Hey there, tiger. Ready for the next set?”

Nishinoya lifted his chin with that cheeky smile on his lips. “Always.”

He acted like usual, most of the time. Nothing could disturb his focus as Karasuno’s guardian. However, any time off the court, his attention is dedicated to you.

Nishinoya watched as Kuroo offered up his dessert to you after dinner. As he made you swoon with his undeniable charm.

And as you’re on dishwashing duty one of the last evenings, Nishinoya strolls into the room and practically scares the life out of you. “Has he said he’s in love with you?”

“Who?” His hair is still dripping, he must have just washed up. You put down what you were doing and shake the soapy water off your hands.

“That boyfriend of yours, Kuroo Tetsuro.”

“Kuroo?” You laughed but then did a double-take. “Boyfriend?!” By now, Noshinoya had crossed his arms, and you almost wondered if you were in trouble.

“Has he said he’s in L-O-V-E? Because I would.”

“You… would?” you ask slowly, not quite understanding what the problem is. Noya walks closer and puts one hand on each of your upper arms.

“You’re literally so cool and pretty.” You looked down at each of his hands and then back at his face with wide eyes.

“Thank you,” you squeaked. “But Kuroo isn’t my boyfriend.”

Noshinoya blinked once, twice, and then quickly let go of you. A light blush blossomed on his cheeks as he realised he might have gotten ahead of himself there. “Right. That’s what I came in here to ask you…”

By now you’ve ditched your confusion to laugh at him, one hand covering your mouth so it wouldn’t be so loud. “Then the answer is no! But I appreciate the compliments.”

Noya chuckled, never one to falter for long. At least you’re laughing and not just awkwardly crawling away from him. “You can have as many as you want.”

“Because you’re in L-O-V-E?” Nishinoya thought his heart might beat out of his chest because that smug look on your face right then was exactly what made him fall so hard in the first place. The same look you had after naming his signature move rolling thunder.

“Exactly.”

masterlist

[disneyprincemuke]

our spot * ls2

a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of infidelity

notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this &lt;;/3

super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words

(f1 masterlist)

(part two)

logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.

or at least, used to be.

he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.

admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?

the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.

he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.

perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.

logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.

you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.

he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.

he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?

logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.

his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.

all he can do is train for his next season.

he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.

a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.

he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.

heard ur back home

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.

it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s

your response is quick.

our spot

logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.

10 minutes. see u

oh. you’re actually asking to see him.

suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?

he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and

his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.

now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?

doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.

maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.

how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.

how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.

he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.

oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.

when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.

he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.

as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.

he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.

it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.

he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.

it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.

his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?

and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.

but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.

logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.

he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.

you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.

he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.

you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.

it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.

"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.

you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."

he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.

in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.

if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.

"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"

logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."

you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."

yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.

"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."

"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."

he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?

he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.

so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.

logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”

“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”

“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”

you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”

“what do you mean?”

“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”

“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”

“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”

logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”

“same.”

he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.

your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.

you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.

it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.

“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.

“i heard from mum.”

“yeah.”

logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”

you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”

“he’s not you, though, logan.”

he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”

“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”

“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”

you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”

logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.

“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”

you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”

“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”

you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”

he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.

not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.

he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.

your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.

the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.

logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”

“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”

“it’s not that easy.”

“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!

“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”

“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”

“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”

“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”

he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”

“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”

“i don’t think it — i know so.”

“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”

“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.

“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”

he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”

"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.

when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.

his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.

when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.

logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."

you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."

"what about your apartment?"

"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."

now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.

but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.

all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?

he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.

logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.

"where are you going?"

"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."

"what about your boyfriend?"

"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."

"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."

a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."

he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."

"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"

logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."

"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."

you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.

but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.

[maikissed]

Kylian Mbappé oneshot

this was supposed to be a part 2 for when was the time for Kylian Mbappe to explode but I lost the idea somewhere, so I'd say it's more of a standalone with a few hints here and there…yup warnings: smut

She was bored during the Olympics. The event was grand, beautiful and festive. So many people striding the streets, Paris was colourful and very much packed. She loved the stir, the energy, the hubbub. She was busy, there was so much work. But she was not exactly present here, checking socials in the meantime, her thoughts far and messy. His latest post popped out first thing as she opened Instagram and she sighed wondering why she started to feel something close to longing as she focused on her grumpy humour as of late. Her own desires unknown.

She wondered if there’ll be a chance to see him again, she enjoyed his presence, the sight of him, his eyes, however dangerous his gaze was endearing, she missed the way his enigmatic presence made her feel. She wondered if she might have grown some form of attachment, an infatuation even. He was electrifying, that she knew for sure. She enjoyed putting herself in front of the fire, maybe there was some masochism hiding behind it, but she was curious how fast would she burn.

And she in fact spotted him, a week later, during a fundraising gala, when she was convinced he was still enjoying his vacation - she came across some new photos posted by another media account. She was looking for her boss but she stopped in her tracks to observe him, as he was engaged in a friendly conversation with some men. Fingers nervously tapping on her little clutch bag, she was considering if she should wait for a proper moment to approach him. Many people started to gather around him, making her doubt if it was a good idea. Just as she was about to turn around to focus back on her job here, his eyes landed on her suddenly, he was saying something and there appeared a gentle smile on his lips as he recognized her. Because he did. She realised she was staring at him, he nodded gently her way, she send him a delicate smile and waved. He looked sharp, handsome, clad in very elegant black tuxedo, every element dark, even the shirt under the jacket, neatly fastened all the way up. Out of nowhere some more people blocked her sight then, so she composed herself and started to walk. In the opposite direction.

She was focused on the stage in front of her, she was counting the seats, analysing the tables and making sure no vires were peeking out from the carpet when a low voice behind her made her jump slightly.

“Bonsoir” there he was standing, his hands in the pocket of his pants, the material of his clothes looked expensive “You look beautiful”

She blinked at his compliment, fixing her posture, flashing him a warm smile.

“Thank you, you look handsome” a simple pleasantry, she felt nervous “Did u have a nice vacation?”

“It was alright” he shrugged not taking his eyes off of her. He was standing tall, but he seemed somehow weary “How was your vacation?”

“Busy” she nodded.

“I can see” he looked around “Where do you sit?”

“I’m staying here. Currently I’m making sure everything goes well with the plan. It’s about to start”

“Right. See you later, then, I hope”

She smiled back at him as he strode off to the centre of the room. That stupid pleased smile not seeming to leave her face.

The shoes were killing her, the dress suffocating her, the crowd turned more pressed and louder than from before the start of the event. She wondered where all these people came from so suddenly. The bathroom was a nice escape for some time, but she could not stay there forever. After freshening up a little she headed back, before her boss would chastise her for leaving her post. She had about a half an hour more to finish her duties. Just as she turned around the corner from the hall, she collided with something hard and swayed on her legs before she could process what has just happen. A huff leaving her mouth as she grabbed somebody’s arms, protecting herself from falling. There was an arm around her middle, keeping her steady.

“Now you’re falling into my arms, I see” she looked into Kylian’s eyes, a little breathless.

A small chuckle leaving her mouth as she still clung onto him, her eyes big and round, her heart beating faster, caused by the little accident.

“Technically I bumped onto you, I’m sorry”

“Don’t worry about it” he murmured and a second later she realised how close they were. She straightened up, her palms falling down his arms and she stepped away.

His hand placed on her back disappeared and she missed it already.

“Shouldn’t you be back there, with all these people so desperate for your attention?” she joked.

“They started to bore me, it’s tiring to keep up with their conversations. I was looking for a way out, and for you, to be honest”

Excitement rushed over her once again.

“Yes, it’s a little bit crowded now” she acknowledged.

“Should we sneak out?” he looked around them as if to check if someone might be lurking in the corner.

The question surprised her. She bit her lip considering what would happen if she left now, while her boss might in fact be looking for her. She had her phone, she would call her if she was needed. Maybe she’ll forget.

She didn’t suspect that they would end up in her apartment later that night. As they went out in the chilly night for a walk, she brought up the idea; she in fact lived nearby. It was an expensive area, so her apartment was a small studio in an old tenement.

“You well organised this place” his voice low, sounded much deeper in such noiseless surroundings “I like it” he took off his jacket to sit more comfortably on a little sofa in the middle of the living room.

There was ringing in her ears. She watched him a while, he seemed relaxed, no tension, no disguise. Calmness.

 “I had to separate a bit of space to arrange the bedroom. It’s minuscule, but it’s serving it’s purpose”

Looking for glasses she peeked his way to notice him unbuttoning the top of the black shirt he was wearing. The room was hot, she reminded herself that she has to open a window, but then the scent of his perfume hit her senses and she changed her mind quickly.

“Wine?” she asked innocently and he brought his eyes back to her.

“Sure”

She sat down on the other end of the sofa, very aware of his eyes following her movements. She wondered what kind of message was sent the moment she invited him to spend some time at her place. It was a friendly time. Or she thought so.

Her dress tightened as she sat down. She took a sip of her wine, slowly realising what kind of persona she was hosting at this hour at night. In her little apartment.

“It’s a nice place, how long do you live here?”

“Two years”

“Aren’t you tired of Paris already? Some say it gets suffocating after a while”

“It’s a wondrous city. Though it can get a bit lonely after some time” she shared, observing his curious gaze.

“Do you have someone?” his question was unexpected but voiced out in simple curiosity.

She smiled softly at him before brining her eyes down to her glass.

“No” she dragged “I don’t do dates” her comment made him laugh softly.

She frowned before her face broke into another smile.

“And you, Monsieur Mbappé? I can ask you the same”

“I don’t do dates” he smirked, a glint in his eyes.

She could smell another wave of his scent when he moved. She adored it, the heavy tones in his perfume were alluring.

“Oh, don’t you?” she jested “Smells like another lie”

“I’m too busy” he shrugged and it was her time to laugh.

“What about the sex?” she voiced it out loud. Yes. She was too nosy for her own good. And honestly, she loved to poke him places.

“I can ask you the same” he got back at her. She blinked, biting her lip timidly.

“I manage” she uttered bringing the glass back up to her lips.

“Oh, wow, sound exciting”

She sent him a chiding look, eyeing the amusement on his face as he examined her. She feared her lie was too much obvious. She was way too lonely, and her bed cold. And mostly because she was as well way too busy for any endeavours.

“As weird as this might sound, the sex can turn boring and predictable at some point. Or I don’t find it so compelling anymore. Or maybe I fail at choosing the partner” he stated confidently, she realised he opened up about a very intimate subject. But it stunned her.

“You’re twenty-six years old. Shouldn’t you enjoy it?” she questioned in surprise.

“It’s pleasant while it lasts, it’s a short moment, this quick shot of excitement but then it ends quickly and things turn uncomfortable”

She hummed in acknowledgement and he observed her lips flex into a smirk. She considered.

“Maybe you’re rushing it” she pointed.

“How so?”

“I’d say…” she started carefully, wondering how to chose her next words “Sex is the most intimate connection of the bodies, most importantly of the minds. It tastes the sweetest when you don’t reach for the grand part at once. You want to draw it out, build the tension, the want, by engaging all your senses with touch, caress, focus on the speeding heartbeats, deepening breathing, skin heating. It’s pleasant when the foreplay is longer than the act itself. But it’s not just about the foreplay being present, it’s about how you savour it, how you connect with the other person, how you see them experiencing it, how you build it all up. You delay the finale to the point of breakage, your limbs shaking, your head spinning. So when you reach it, the orgasm can be shattering. And the partner of your choosing have to awaken these kind of excitement for you, because if you consider it only a deed in order to reach your relief, it could turn predictable and uncomfortable, I think.”

Her eyes focused on the wall, her glass empty now. She risked to look his way and he seemed intrigued. His eyes dark, the room turned quiet.

“I don’t mean that you’re a bad lover” she stammered a little, bit embarrassed “It’s not like I know of it, it’s just…”

“Relax, I didn’t get it that way” he interrupted “It was captivating, you’re very passionate”

His presence here, in her little private setting and this conversation made her feel uneasy. She felt an urge to move closer to where he was seated. To whisper that she wants it all with him. Her breath stuck in her lungs when she realised, when he called her passionate. He was suffocating at this point, his big, manly figure on her little couch, his perfume. She knew how to make him feel it. And something in his face told her that he wanted her to.

She stood up reaching for the empty glasses with intention to fill it again. But he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. She knew this touch, yet this time it was gentler. His fingers glided down her skin to hold her own. He leaned back on the couch again, sitting like before, his posture relaxed, his eyes deep. She was burning.

“When was the last time you felt something like this?” he asked, she wanted to hear his deep voice closer to her ear.

She focused on the gentle touch, his fingers now playing softly with hers as he stared into her soul. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to speak out now, her voice locked out somewhere deep in her chest. She breathed through her lips slightly ajar.

“Right now” her voice much steadier than she thought.

His chest rose at her answer. He looked at their hands connected still.

“Show me, please”

Oh, God. She stood above him awkwardly for a moment after he let her hand fall back down. A gentle caress over her knuckles before he let go. Her knees weak as she took few steps back, her shaky fingers reaching the zipper of her dress. That was the moment, she was about to strip in front of him. She wanted to, badly. And the scene was powerful: him seated down, clad in finest clothes, his legs spread, his dangerous eyes drinking her in as she opened the back of her dress.

Her movements slow and delicate, her fingers keeping the straps of her dress for a moment before it fully slid down her body. His eyes followed it’s track, he didn’t move, she wasn’t able to read much from his face before his gaze met her own back again. In the first moment there was pure fascination and simple, almost childish like adoration in the glint in his eyes, but when he blinked it was all gone, and she could see his throat moving, ferocity in the darkness of his irises. He had all the power to break her, yet her purpose was to tame him.

She was bare, unveiled in front of him, only her most intimate place covered by a soft material of the thongs she was wearing.

“You are heavenly beautiful. How come you don’t already have all men howling at your feet?” his words surprised her, there was a bit of playfulness in his features, but honesty and admiration in his deep voice.

She chose to seduce him to the point of having him at her feet.

“Who are all these men compared to you?” she sang as she took little steps to where he was seated.

A cheeky smile broke on his face and she adored it.

“Are trying to play with my ego?” she was standing close, almost between his knees and he kept looking straight into her eyes.

“You don’t need me to, Kylian” she whispered “Everybody knows it for a fact” after these words she turned and carefully sat down to place herself between his legs, her back facing him.

She wanted to lead him, but as soon as his warm palms rested on her waist any words died in her throat and she sighed closing her eyes, delighted by the way the energy flew between them both. The touch was sweet. He leaned into her, his breath close to her ear and cheek. The material of his clothing soft, rousing with the contact of her bare skin. His hands glided lower, caressing her hips and then her thighs. She looked down and hummed at the sight of how big they were, she felt so small.

“You have pretty hands” she breathed, her eyes closing on it’s own as his palms slid up and then back down on the skin there, very slowly. She savoured the closeness of his body, his touch.

“Oh, you like them?” his breath hot on her skin, his words vibrating on the shell of her ear, she shivered “Where do you want me to put them?” said gentler, into her skin.

She leaned into him, relaxing limbs pressed into his torso.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

A whimper almost broke out of her, but she fought it, her eyes wide open and he moved his hands higher up her hips, resting them on her stomach.

“Yes” she answered, making sure to sound composed and confident, but her voice broke a little when his fingers moved up and gently stroked her nipples. She writhed against him. He was gentle, she was close to lose her mind. He knew what to do. He was doing it perfectly.

One of his hands moved up, roaming her throat and she placed her head back on his shoulder. She was floating in his embrace, his perfume intense, he indeed was her desires impersonated. It was turning her mad. She wanted all of him, badly.

“But we want to savour it, darling, don’t we?”

Long and tender fingers reached her jaw, moving higher, butterfly touches on her lips, she let him caress them before she timidly opened her mouth. He put his thumb in her mouth and her chest fell. Her breathing deepening, she sucked on his finger but he didn’t linger long, instead moved his hand back down, placing moistened digit on her nipple. Did the same thing with the other hand, his wet fingers playing so tauntingly softly with delicate buds. Her breathing sped up, he kept stimulating her, she was lightheaded. Her thighs closed on it’s own, her breathing was the most prominent sound in the room. Her spine bending, a mewl left her mouth as she could feel herself clenching around nothing.

“Ah, are you in need, love? Tell me” amusement in his voice, he enjoyed her struggling.

“Please” she whined weakly, opening her thighs to bring his attention there “Touch me”

His chest rumbled with a short laugh. Oh, he was a menace.

“You’re a sweet thing”

Using his hand he reached for her leg and hiked it up, wrapping it around his thigh. She anticipated. The first light touch of his fingers there made her wriggle into him. She could feel him, hard, pressed against her bum.

“So wet” in a low voice, her hand grasping the material of his pants, she was so patient, dying to keep up with it “You’re giving me everything I wanted and more”

She moaned, the sound much surer now, freed, with no intention to hide her arousal out of abashment. He was testing her, learning how to play her body, she was louder when he was gentler with her, delicate rubs against the material of her knickers. Her hand reached behind to hold on his neck. Her backside moving against him, he hummed, content with the friction there. His thumb hooked over the band of her thongs. She hoped.

“Kylian…” a soft whisper “Let me…”

“Should I?” few delicate pecks of his moist lips under her ear “Or should I… delay it?”

She cried out desperately in answer.

“How much can you take? The night’s still young, I should know before I make you take me in every possible way that comes to my mind till the very end of it” his fingers finally disappearing under the material, she gasped at the contact.

“Everything” she breathed “I’ll take everything”

“Now, you should be careful with such words” he pushed one finger inside her, swiftly, then another, she slumped onto him knowing that she’ll be finished in no time, he worked her up so well.

She no more had any kind of control over her own body. Just few quick pushes and she came on his fingers. Breathless, yet still wanton. Her legs were weak but she was brave, after few calm breaths she turned to face him. And she realised that she opened the darkest and the most dangerous doors he kept hidden and locked. She could see it in his eyes. Absolute elation, almost obsession. And she wanted to see it unleash. Wanted for him to let it all out free. She had a wild idea in her mind. 

She straddled him carefully, her hands wandering over his body, feeling his muscles, resting on his neck as she placed her lips near his ear.

“I mean it, you can take as much as you want, I’m yours for the night” she whispered, next bringing her face closer to his, thinking about kissing him right now “How do you want me, Kylian?” her voice even sweeter now as she looked into his eyes “Do you want me on my knees? Do you want me to put it in my mouth? I can go for hours”

There was a lazy smirk pulling at his cheeks. He seemed to not expect such words from her. But she wanted to keep going. She moved her hips forward to finally meet his, he grunted at the contact, she smiled in victory. He was so very ready. But they were playing their game now. He was good, she aimed to be even better.

“Or I can fuck you like this” and again, back and forth, dry humping him but slowly, dosing the sensations “Oh…I would love that. You don’t have to do anything. I can do everything for you, you deserve it” she purred, her lips so close to his, almost touching.

He chuckled and his eyes closed. She weakened him, he turned spellbound.

“Fucking hell” he murmured and she moved once more against him.

She wondered who will win this game at the very end, something was telling her it will most definitely be him, even if she had her sweet little moments right now.

He was trying to catch her lips but she shun away from him, testing him, tempting him, with a fierce smirk plastered on her face. A sharp spark in his eyes and she knew he had enough. He reached with his fingers and clasped them on her jaw, bringing her closer, a little roughness to it. But the kiss was gentle, delicate, so sweet she sighed into it. He grasped her hips and pressed her hard onto him, the kiss deepening, she moaned when their tongues met. He hummed and after few moments let go of her, sitting back comfortably, his hands spread on the back of the sofa, he was smiling at the sight of her flushed state.

“Go on then, baby. On your knees”

Her heart jumped in her chest at the sound of his deep voice. Excitement rushed all over her and she bit her lip when pictures of the pleasure she wanted to bring out of him run through her imagination. Her ears already full of the sound of him moaning her name. She slid to the floor, her shaky fingers reaching for the top of his pants, he observed her. When her fingers caught the zipper, one of his hands already rested on her nape and she knew he would not go easy on her. Her mouth watered at the thought of him using her, fucking her mouth, forcing her to choke on it to the point of tears running down her cheeks. She knew he would win, from the very start.