#happy mother's day to you and your moms and whether you guys celebrate it or not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greensagephase · 19 days

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What If...?

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: It’s Mother’s Day and Miguel celebrates you, the mother of his son. He asks you something at the end of the day. What if… Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: pre-established relationship; reader is married to Miguel; parents of a three year old; mention of not taking birth control; unprotected sex; wrap it before you ride it, or however the saying goes; oral sex, female receiving; p in v; soft Miguel; Masterlist MINORS PLS DO NOT READ Happy Mother's Day to anyone reading this who's a mom! You guys are amazing 🥺

When you met Miguel many years ago, it became clear to you that Miguel was the kind of man you wanted in your life - the kind of man you wanted to marry.

He was sweet, gentle, and loving - traits he holds to this day. He wasn’t like other men who were simply trying to get one thing out of you, or the kind of man that was looking for a wife to turn her into his personal maid, or something of the sort.

No, Miguel has always been a sweet and kind man, so loving. He’s not afraid to show and tell you about his feelings. He makes them known, ever since the very beginning. He remembers every single special date, buys you flowers once a week, sometimes twice, even when there’s no special occasion, and he treats you like a goddess.

He remembers your birthday and plans weeks in advance for it, whether his plans are big with a party with all your friends and family, or if it’s private with him and now Gabriel, he always does something for you.

You are his everything.

So, when he asked you to marry him a several years ago after some time of dating, you accepted, knowing you were marrying the right man for you.

Glancing around your shared bedroom in your home, you see signs of a life built together. There are photographs around the bedroom and other parts of the home. There’s his and your clothes in the same closet. There’s his wedding ring next to yours on the dresser, the ones you’ll both soon put on before heading out for the day, since you’re certain Miguel has plans. Such simple things, really, but signs that you’re together, building a life.

But the biggest testament of your commitment, affection, and love for each other is not an object. He’s somewhere near Miguel now, with his little arms reaching to touch things out of curiosity and a head of beautiful brown hair like his father’s.

Gabrielito, your son.

You smile at the thought of your child now, already three years old. Your little Gabrielito, the one that calls you “mama” and seeks your arms like it’s his safe haven.

You turn to the clock on your nightstand. It’s 9am on Mother’s Day. Miguel’s side of the bed is empty and upon tracing your fingers over it, you know he’s been up for some time because the sheets lack his heavenly body warmth.

Knowing what’s coming, you play your part, happily. You go to your shared bathroom and do your morning routine as if nothing before you return to the bedroom. Your eyes lit up as you find them, sitting on the bed waiting for you.

It’s a sight you’ll never tire of. There’s Miguel sitting on the bed and Gabrielito in one of his big arms keeping him still. In the other hand, a bouquet of fresh flowers greets you. To the side, there’s a tray with homemade breakfast. Miguel smiles at you and stands up, greeting you.

“Feliz día de las Madres, mi amor [Happy Mother's day, my love],” he says as he hands you the flowers.

“Mama, Happy Mother’s - Day!” Gabrielito says reaching for you immediately, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“Aww, thank you, thank you, baby,” you reply to your son, your heartstrings pulled.

You accept the flowers and your child before Miguel wraps his arms around you and Gabrielito.

“Happy Mother’s day, baby,” he says again softly, caressing your body with tenderness. “I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, corazón [heart]. I’m already having a great one with this lovely surprise. My two favorite people,” you say snuggling both Miguel and your son, who’s all too happy to be in this group hug with his parents. Embraced in Miguel’s arms, you stay like that for a few seconds, simply enjoying the moment until Miguel gently pulls back, brushing a piece of hair away from your face.

“Gabrielito and I cooked your favorite breakfast, let’s eat so it doesn’t get cold,” he says pulling you to the bed. “Get back in bed, so it can be a proper breakfast in bed.” Miguel grins as he helps you in bed while you’re still holding your son and fixes the tray with food. Once everything is settled, he takes Gabriel from your arms. “So you can eat comfortably with free arms,” he says, something Miguel always does. He always makes sure to hold Gabriel when you eat so you can eat comfortably, unless you tell him that you want to keep holding him.

As a little family, you begin to eat. You smile as you watch Miguel feed Gabi some fruit, always so gentle with his son. He smiles at you once he notices you staring at him before he picks another piece of fruit and offers it to you, bringing his hand close to your face to mouth feed you, too. “Your favorite,” he murmurs sweetly before you accept it, feeling thankful for this.

You have a lovely husband and a beautiful child, your little family. You finish having breakfast as a family, talking with Miguel about random things and at some points laughing at the little things you son does and says, finding it endearing.

You start helping Miguel put things away but he immediately asks you not to. “No, no. I got this, mi amor [my love]. Don’t worry about it.”

You frown softly. “Okay, fine. Here I can hold Gabi then.”

“Thank you, preciosa [lovely, pretty], but no. Don’t worry. I can carry our little one and the tray just fine. Why don’t you get ready for the day? Maybe something comes up later on,” he says giving you a teasing smile.

“Hmm, you think so?” you ask him, having a feeling that Miguel has something planned like always.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says stepping closer and giving you a kiss on the lips. “Take your time, mi amor [my love]. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

With a smile, you watch him leave, carrying the tray and your son as he lovingly talks to Gabriel about breakfast. You sigh softly before you hop in the shower. When you come out, you find the bed made for the day and little things that were out of their place back organized and stored away. It seems Miguel finished in the kitchen and came back to do these things so you wouldn’t worry about it.

That’s another thing about Miguel. He never shies away from household chores or taking care of his own child. He’s not like other men that expect their partner to do all household chores, or who see looking after their children as “babysitting.”

Miguel is a provider, both financially and emotionally for Gabrielito and you, his happiness and weaknesses.

As you grab something from your dresser, you also notice Miguel’s wedding band is gone, probably on his finger already.

You do your skincare, makeup, and hair before you get dressed up in pretty clothes to go out. To finish, you add your favorite perfume and pieces of jewelry, your wedding ring being one of them. A while later, you leave your bedroom and find Miguel and Gabriel in the living room. Both are already dressed to go out and as you approach them, you see Miguel fixing one of Gabi’s shoes.

“Like that?” Gabi asks with wonder as he watches Miguel tie his shoe.

“Like… that. There, mijo [my son combo word], all done,” Miguel says softly before he spots you. He flashes you a smile as his eyes take you in, all dressed up and ready. “Bella como siempre, mi vida [beautiful as always, my life].”

You smile and do a little bit of a pose. “Yeah? Is my outfit appropriate for the occasion?” you ask.

“Definitely,” Miguel answers quickly as he picks up Gabi and stands up. “Beautiful.”

Before you know it, the three of you are in the family vehicle with Miguel driving. He holds your hand the entire time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you talk, sometimes playing with your wedding ring, a physical reminder that you’re his wife.

You reach your destination in no time. It turns out Miguel’s plan involves a flower festival, where you spend some time. The three of you appreciate the sight of blooming flowers, just perfect for May. You walk as a family, allowing Gabriel to walk and explore since he’s in a phase of curiosity. By the end of it, Miguel has bought you another bouquet of flowers along with flowers for your garden, keeping up with a tradition he started for your first Mother’s Day. This will be the fourth year now and because of the love and care both Miguel and you provide to your garden, they always come back for the season.

You leave the festival close to lunch time and once in the vehicle, you wonder what’s next in Miguel’s plans, especially when he drives off in another direction, away from your home. He says nothing about where he’s taking you as he makes conversation about the flowers and how Gabriel seemed fascinated by everything. He kisses the back of your hand as you realize where you’re heading and a few moments later, Miguel pulls into the parking lot of your favorite restaurant. Miguel opens your door once parked, always the gentleman, and takes care of unbuckling Gabriel from his car seat before the two of you walk inside, Gabriel in Miguel’s arm as he holds your hand with his free one.

The three of you enter the establishment where Miguel talks to a waiter about his reservation. After ordering, you can’t help but stare at Miguel as he gives Gabriel a sip of water, making sure to keep his top dry. The sight makes you smile and think about Miguel and what a wonderful father he is. He’s always wanted children, something he made known to you early on in your relationship to see what your thoughts were on the matter. You remember telling him that you’d like to one day, maybe two, or three, something Miguel appreciated. You recall when you finally started having serious discussions about it once you were married. Before that point you both agreed you wanted to start a family together but that you wanted to enjoy at least a year or two of your marriage as a couple alone. Eventually, the serious discussions came up and before either of you knew it, you were in the hospital with your firstborn in your arms.

You both agreed that Gabriel wouldn’t be the last, that you’d like to try for another child in a few years. Looking at Miguel and Gabrielito now, you think about a second child. Maybe in the near future, if Miguel is ready for it.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the food is brought to the table, a reminder for you to focus on the present and cherish what you have now: this little family of yours.

Together, Miguel and you have lunch, assisting Gabriel when he needs help. You all happily eat and enjoy the meal, making conversation with both your husband and son.

You take a sip from your drink by the end of your meal, feeling loved and cared for since Miguel knows you love this restaurant. You look around for a few seconds, noticing that today it’s more packed than usual with it being Mother’s Day. When you glance back at Miguel and Gabriel, you find Miguel with a smile and a small gift bag. You raise an eyebrow and Miguel chuckles.

“Surely you didn’t think a flower festival and lunch at your favorite place were the only surprises?”

“Don’t forget breakfast in bed with my favorite people in the world,” you say softly.

“That, too, but even then, it’s never enough. It’ll never be,” Miguel says. “I wish I could give you the world.”

You smile and lean forward, placing a hand over his free one. “You have. I have you and Gabriel. You’re both my world.”

Smiling, Miguel gazes at you with a look of devotion and affection. “You and him are my world, too, mi vida [my life]. You are everything to me,” he says, gently pulling his hand out from beneath yours to take in his fingers. He gives it a gentle squeeze before leaning forward and kissing the back of it. “Te amo, mi amor [I love you, my love]. Happy Mother’s Day,” he says sweetly with a smile as he offers the gift bag.

You beam at him. “I love you, too, corazón [heart],” you reply back to him before you accept his gift bag.

“Open it! Gabriel helped me choose it,” Miguel says, causing you to chuckle.

You cup your Gabriel’s face, who seems a bit sleepy now. “Did you help daddy choose the gift?” you ask softly and of course, he nods and offers you a sleepy smile, replying back with a short string of words.

“Yeah! I helped daddy, mama.”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest,” you respond giving his cheek a gentle squeeze.

“Open, mama!” Gabriel replies, causing Miguel and you to laugh softly.

“Alright, alright! I’ll get it open, hold on.” You pull away the tissue paper and reach inside the gift bag, finding a box that matches with those of jewelry. Your eyes go to Miguel, who watches you expectantly. You take it out and place the gift bag away before focusing on the box. It’s definitely a jewelry box. You smile and open it gently, revealing a jewelry set you know cost a lot of money right away. Not only is it a three piece set with a necklace, bracelet, and set of earrings but the kind of jewelry itself confirms your suspicion. It seems Miguel, as always, didn’t mind spending money on you.

You trace the necklace softly and smile wider. He definitely knows your taste, too. “It’s so beautiful… So beautiful, thank you,” you say looking up at Miguel. “Thank you for the beautiful gift, corazón [heart]. I love it!”

You reach for Miguel’s hand and he immediately accepts it as Gabi cheers with his hands, happy that you have a positive reaction, it seems.

“I’m so happy you love it, baby. Something for our date nights,” he says with a smile.

You grin at him and nod, this is definitely something for a date night with your husband. “I’ll wear it next time.”

He smiles brightly at you. “I can’t wait to see you wearing it in a few days,” he replies, knowing you always have one date night a week, something Miguel really wanted to keep up even after having Gabriel so he can spoil you.

You laugh softly. “I’ll wear it without failure, I promise.”

You soon pack up your few things, ready to leave the restaurant.

As you exit the building, Miguel looks down at you. “I planned those little things for you, mi amor [my love], but I left the rest of the day free so you can decide what you’d like to do. Do you want to go somewhere? Do something specifically?” he asks sweetly.

You sigh softly as you gaze at Miguel, finding it endearing that he left the rest of the day free for you to choose how you want to spend it. “Honestly? I want to go to our home and chill with you and our little baby,” you say softly with a smile as you glance at Gabrielito, his pretty brown eyes heavy with sleep, no doubt ready for a nap. “Gabrielito looks like he could use a nap, and me, too.”

Miguel laughs softly at that and squeezes your hand as you both walk back to your vehicle. “I could use one, too, honestly. So, I guess we’re having a family nap then and afterwards, I’m cooking dinner for the most beautiful mama in the world,” he says with a cheeky smile at you.

Later that night - many hours later after taking a family nap, Miguel cooking your favorite dish for dinner, and spending family time - Miguel steps out of the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers after brushing his teeth. His eyes find you on your shared bed, already in your pajamas wearing matching shorts and a top, looking beautiful as always as you read a book. Gabrielito has already been asleep for an hour, exhausted from the day’s events despite his nap earlier.

Miguel glances at the baby monitor regardless, confirming Gabriel is fast asleep, which means you have the rest of the night for each other. He slips into bed next to you, seeking your warmth. He wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him, his need satisfied. Besides that, he does nothing else in order to avoid disturbing your reading time, respecting your time to unwind.

After some time, you put your book away and snuggle closer to your husband, his warmth calling you. Miguel’s arm tightens around you and he begins to pepper your face with sweet kisses, unable to stop himself from showering you with love and affection now that you’re done reading.

“Gracias, mi amor [thank you, my love],” he whispers.

“For what, corazón [heart]?” you ask as he keeps kissing your face like he needs to to keep breathing.

“For marrying me.” He kisses your cheek. “For accepting me as your husband.” Kiss. “For making me so happy, and letting me make you happy.” Kiss on your forehead. “For giving us a beautiful child, for choosing me to start a family with.” Miguel pulls you closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses your lips lovingly while his fingers trace your skin delicately, knowing your skin better than his own.

He pulls back gently and stares into your eyes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His gaze is filled with nothing but love and adoration for the love of his life - for his beautiful and sweet wife, the mother of his child.

He smiles before he starts with the kisses again, this time moving from your face to your neck, giving you attention there, too. Your scent surrounds him as his lips move across your skin, leaving tingles in their wake. A whimper escapes from your lips as you feel his teeth softly graze your skin, a sound that excites Miguel.

In the blink of an eye, Miguel is on top of you. He peppers your skin and collarbone with kisses but he doesn’t stop there this time. He lifts your top gently and reveals your tummy. He starts kissing you there, too, remembering how he used to kiss your tummy when you were pregnant. It wasn’t anything new though since Miguel has always kissed your body, wanting you to feel loved by him, to know that you’re perfect to him. However, he remembers kissing your tummy especially those days and how Gabriel would start kicking in response. The memory makes him smile as he looks up at you.

“Remember how I kissed your tummy when you were pregnant? And how our little one always kicked back?”

“He always liked it when you kissed my tummy. And he loved hearing your voice. Still does,” you reply softly, reaching with a hand to caress his face, which makes Miguel lean into your touch. He smiles.

“I can’t believe he’s three now. We’ve been parents for three years.” He leans down and kisses your tummy again. “I remember it like it was just yesterday, when we discussed starting a family at last and of course, the actual process,” Miguel says looking up at you with a certain look. It’s one that sends a heat straight to your core.

You stare back at him shyly, chuckling. “I do, too,” you reply.

“And remember how we said we’d like more after Gabrielito?” he asks as he peppers your skin with kisses again, moving upwards.

“Ye-yeah,” you say, finding it harder and harder to concentrate as his lips touch your skin and move up. You close your eyes and enjoy his warm breath and lips on you, feeling your body react to him.

“It’s been three years, mi amor [my love]. Three years since you became a mom,” he says, lifting your shirt higher up, revealing your bare chest. “A mom of one. I was thinking…”

Your breath hitches as you feel his mouth wrap around your sensitive nipple, sucking on it gently. “Miguel,” you breath out. “What - what were you thinking about?” You ask even though you have an idea of what he’s been thinking about. Miguel releases your nipple with a loud pop.

“What if we give Gabrielito a little sibling?” he asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your pajama shorts, on your thigh. “What if I make you a mom of two?” His fingers move to your inner thighs. “What if… you make me a daddy of two?” This time his fingers trace your clothed pussy.

You whimper lowly, feeling the light pressure of his fingers over your core. You try to calm yourself down and breath out gently. “Another baby?” you ask, opening your eyes to meet his.

Miguel nods, moving his fingers gently, feeling your slit even through your pajama shorts and panties. “Another baby. Maybe a little girl, so we can have the pair. A boy and a girl,” Miguel says leaning closer to kiss your lips. “We did say we wanted another one later on, remember?” he whispers, his fingers still moving gently.

“We did,” you reply moving your hand to wrap around his wrist, the one between your thighs. “But are we sure now is the right time? Are you sure?” you ask him softly, wanting to make sure this isn’t a decision made in the heat of the moment, especially when you remember something. “I…” you trail off, something Miguel notices.

“What’s wrong, mi vida [my life]?”

“The thing is… I haven't taken my birth control. It’s slipped my mind the last few days, so if we - you know - tonight, then there’s a chance I might get pregnant.”

Miguel nods, understanding. The last few days have been a little busy, so he doesn’t blame you for forgetting and besides, you’re always careful about it. He moves his hand to your calf and gently caresses it, trying to ease any worries you may have as he thinks about his words. He’ll never push you to do something you don’t want to, and he doesn’t want you to think you have no choice just because it’s something he wishes for.

“I personally… Would love for us to have another child. To be honest, I’d love for us to have three but I know it’s not my body carrying a child for months. I know it’s your body doing so much work, even if people say it’s built for it, no one should deny that it takes a toll on a woman’s body. What I’m trying to say is, that at the end of the day it’s your choice, mi amor [my love]. If you do want another one later on, we can talk about it when you’re ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured, okay? I was just… Thinking about it,” Miguel says softly, leaning down to kiss your lips. “It’s Mother’s Day, so I was reminded of when you were pregnant and our wish for another kid, but we can talk later. I can wear protection and that’s if you’re okay with us making love, if not, then we can go to sleep.” Miguel kisses your forehead gently and cups your face to reassure you. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with love for Miguel being so respectful of your boundaries. You bring his face down and kiss his lips for a few seconds before you answer.

“I would like for us to try for another baby,” you whisper against his lips.

Miguel lifts his head, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re being honest and not saying that out of pressure. You smile warmly at him and nod.

“I’m serious. I was thinking about it at lunch, about a second child. I would love for us to be a family of four.”

Miguel smiles at that comment and you swear his eyes lit up. “A family of four,” Miguel repeats, still smiling. “I hope one day we can make it happen.”

“We can start trying now… if you’d like,” you whisper as you lift a hand to Miguel’s chest. You caress his upper chest before you drag your fingertips down his torso noticing the way his breath hitches once you reach his happy trail. You grin to yourself before you take a glance at his thighs. You can see the large bulge in his boxers, begging for attention and release. Your fingertips trace lower, going over his boxers’ waistband before you gently brush two fingers where his tip is, eliciting a low grunt from your husband. A wet spot appears a second later.

He takes your hand and gently moves it away. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses the back of it before he looks at you. “Are you sure? I need you to know that we don’t need to do this right now. We can wait if you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready,” you say, reassuring him.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, mi amor [my love],” Miguel says softly.

“I want this. I want our family to grow, too. Please,” you say gently, using your free hand to pull him down. He accepts and lowers himself, his face inches from yours. You kiss him on the mouth again, this time in a more needy way, even brushing your tongue over his bottom lip. Miguel groans gently and immediately opens his mouth to welcome your tongue. You kiss for a while, your tongues playing with each other as your hands explore each other’s bodies.

Growing more aroused by the second, you pull back gently. “I need you,” you whisper against his lips.

Those three words are all Miguel needs to hear. He leans down and kisses you again, his mouth needy and desperate for more of your lips as his hands tug your shorts and panties off as much as he can before he breaks the kiss to accomplish the task. As he does that, you take the time to remove your shirt, throwing it aside. In a second, Miguel is over you again. He kisses you on the lips once again before he starts a long trail of kisses starting from your neck and moving downwards.

He kisses your collarbone and then between your breasts where he takes a moment to tease your hardened nipples with his mouth. He sucks on one while his fingers gently pinch and twist the other one, eliciting the sweetest whimpers from you. He grins as he switches, more than satisfied with your reaction. When he’s done, he plants a soft kiss between your breasts again, taking the moment to smell your beautiful scent.

“You’re so beautiful,” Miguel says, looking up at you as he kisses that spot once again. “So beautiful, mi amor [my love].”

You breath out a “thank you” before his lips find their way again. You can only lay back and feel your body react to Miguel’s ministrations as he peppers your tummy once more with kisses, taking his sweet time when he knows where you want him.

“Miggy,” you whine.

“What is it?” he asks as he grips your hips and continues planting soft kisses all over, knowing what you want - what you need.

“You know what.”

“Hm...? Do I?” he asks, grinning to himself as he moves back to begin the same process on your thighs now, slowing making his way to your inner thighs. “What do you need, mi amor [my love]?”

You moan softly, spreading your thighs apart slightly as you feel his mouth moving closer. “I need you.”

“Need me to do what?” he asks before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, and just to further tease you, he drags his tongue over the area.

You gasp and reach with your hand for his hair. “Need your mouth there.”

“Where is there?”

You whine again, realizing he’s really going to make you beg for it. “Need your mouth… on me. Need your mouth on my pussy,” you finally say, your cheeks feeling hot.

“Ah,” Miguel says softly, feeling a great satisfaction. “You should’ve said that from the start.”

“You knew from the start where-” you begin but stop when you feel Miguel’s hands spread your thighs apart, exposing you to him.

It only takes Miguel a second to see how wet you are - how ready you are for him. A second later, his tongue darts out and licks up your slit, collecting your arousal. He groans against your pussy lips, your taste driving him crazy as always.

You moan loudly as you feel his tongue expertly move around, teasing your clit with no mercy. You reach for his hair again, something you gave up on earlier, and this time grip it gently as a way to ensure that he won’t try to tease you by pulling back. You need this, need him.

Miguel moves closer, pushing his face into you, his tongue greedy for more of your taste. He wants to taste you every second, doesn’t want any of your arousal to go to waste. He hungrily laps at your pussy, spreading it gently to dive deeper as your sweet moans of pleasure fill your shared bedroom.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Miguel says before he sucks on your clit, causing you to push your pelvis into his face with a loud moan. “So hungry,” Miguel says, noticing the way your hole is fluttering around nothing, already wanting his cock.

“Miguel, please,” you say in that voice that’d make Miguel drop to his knees if he wasn’t so busy eating you out.

“What is it, amor [love]?” he asks raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Need you… I need you inside me,” you say, eyebrows knitted.

Miguel frowns softly. “I wanted to give you an orgasm from this alone, baby.”

“I - I know you always want to make give me more than one orgasm but… I need you now. Need you inside me. Please?” you ask so softly, so tenderly.

Miguel nods. “Your wish is my command.” With that, Miguel lowers his face to swipe his tongue over your slit one more time, groaning softly once again at your taste. “Always taste so good,” he murmurs pressing a damp kiss to your inner thigh before he pulls back. He gets off the bed and takes off his boxers at last, releasing his heavy, hardened cock.

The sight of it makes you press your thighs closer, already anticipating the delicious stretch Miguel gives you. You swallow deeply as you watch Miguel get back on the bed before he gives his cock a tug, precum oozing from his tip. His eyes find yours as he scoots closer to you. He takes your legs and still holding your gaze, asks once again, “Are you sure, mi vida [my life]?”

You immediately nod. “Yes, I’m sure. I want this, Miguel. I want us to have another baby.”

Miguel smiles at that, letting go of one of your legs to support himself before lowering his head. He kisses you tenderly on the lips. “I want another baby with you, too, preciosa [lovely, pretty]. Another beautiful baby that’s half you, half me,” he says against your lips before he kisses you again as he moves closer.

You part your thighs before you feel Miguel raise your legs, bringing you both to a position in which the back of your thighs are now over his own, resting comfortably. As Miguel bites down on your bottom lip, you feel his lower body move and a second later, his cock rubs against your folds causing you whimper into his mouth. He smiles as he rubs his tip over your entrance more, coating himself in your arousal. He hears your breathing grow heavier before he reaches with a hand and aligns himself, finally entering you.

You both moan as he sinks into your sweet heat at last, your walls stretching to his size. Miguel closes his eyes as he sinks lower and lower, feeling how wet you are.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers opening his eyes to look down at you. His lips part at the beautiful sight even though he’s seen it so many times. He thinks about how he’d draw your beautiful face from memory if he had the skill. He’d draw the way your lips are parted now and your knitted eyebrows as you get used to his size. He’d draw your hair and how it lays beneath your head as you rest on your shared bed, so beautiful. He’d draw your eyes, half-lidded and hazy for him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he buries himself to the hilt, his voice full of love.

You give him a smile, one that makes Miguel want to melt at the sight of. You’re so sweet, so lovely, so beautiful, and he has no idea how he ended up finding you. He can’t help himself from giving gratitude to every divine entity there is for allowing your paths to cross and for him to become your husband and father of your child.

He smiles back at you and lowers himself to kiss your lips. His kiss is sweet and tender as he slowly begins to moves his hips, sliding his cock in and out of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same tenderness. Soft moans and whimpers escape your lips as Miguel continues to thrust into you.

“It feels so good,” you whisper against his lips.

“I know, mi amor [my love],” Miguel whispers back before he moves his face to your neck to give you attention there. His teeth sink into your flesh gently, sucking on it before he drags his tongue over the area. Beneath him, you tremble in pleasure. “Gonna make you feel even better, I promise,” he murmurs against your neck as his thrusts gain speed.

“Mig- Miguel,” you moan, dragging your nails down his back.

“God - don’t do that or I won’t be able to stop,” Miguel says groaning, pressing his nose to your skin, his eyes shut close. “You know how much I love feeling your fingernails on my back.”

You can only nod, knowing this fact very well. Miguel has many weaknesses when it comes to you and one of them are your nails on his back. He loves having nail scratches all over it, loves the feeling of your fingers digging into his skin when you’re making love.

Knowing this, you do it again.

Miguel groans loudly in your ear at your action. This time, he says nothing about it, at least not verbally, but he does respond by thrusting harder and faster into your pussy. He groans again as he hears the loud and wet plap plap plap and the sound of skin against skin. He reaches with a hand and begins to rub his thumb over your clit in a circular motion, making you moan and squirm beneath him in response.

“Mi- ah - Miguel!” you cry out in pleasure, bucking your hips into him.

“You love that so much, don’t you?” Miguel whispers as he keeps sliding his cock in and out of you. He looks down at where you’re both connected, seeing his cock disappear inside you and a white ring of both your liquids around the base of his member. The sight encourages him to rub his thumb faster over your clit.

“Oh God,” you say, arching your back, feeling like you’ll be climaxing soon. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Not stopping any time soon, hermosa. Not until you cum around my cock,” Miguel replies leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks on it hungrily, yet gently, as his hips meet yours deliciously. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, over and over again, before he allows his teeth to graze it, eliciting a loud whimper from your throat. Miguel releases it with a loud pop before he pushes himself back and grips your hips, feeling his climax rapidly approaching.

Upon opening your eyes, you can see your nipple glistening with his saliva just as Miguel begins to pound much faster and harder into you. You grip the sheets beneath him, feeling your walls clench around his cock. He raises your thighs, allowing him to bury himself deeper. With the new alignment, you feel his large tip hit that spot that makes you see stars and forget what your name even is.

“Fuck - you feel so good,” Miguel says with a groan. His eyes roll back as he speeds up, feeling your walls squeezing him, wanting to milk him already. “Gonna. Put. Another. Baby. In. You.” Miguel says, enunciating each word with a thrust. “Gonna make you a mommy of two.”

Arching your back, you nod. “Ye-yes, another baby. Please, Miggy - don’t stop! I’m so - close,” you say breathing heavily as Miguel keeps thrusting, stretching your pussy and filling it just how you like it.

“I’m close, too,” Miguel manages to say as he adds more force to his movements. He raises your legs higher and wrap them around his waist. A moment later, he feels you squeeze them around him, as if wanting to prevent him from breaking away from you, something that’s not happening as Miguel is too lost in the ecstasy. He grunts in pleasure with each thrust, his desire only growing with each needy whimper and moan from your lips - music to his ears.

You moan beneath Miguel as you feel your climax coming. “I’m gonna cum,” you tell Miguel squeezing your legs around him even tighter.

“Fuc- I can feel your walls squeezing me harder,” Miguel responds, stating the truth. Your walls are squeezing him harder than before, pushing him to the edge. He feels your walls begin to convulse around him, milking him before he’s even climaxed.

A few seconds later, you scream his name as you reach your climax, arching your back and trembling beneath Miguel as he keeps pounding into your soaking pussy. The sight of you reaching your blissful state is the final push for Miguel. He feels his cock twitch once, twice before he shoots his load into your eager and hungry pussy with a loud moan that fills the bedroom.

“God - yes,” you whimper as you feel him cumming, filling your pussy with his hot seed.

“Yes, yes,” Miguel says, groaning as he keeps moving his hips, slowly losing speed as he keeps cumming, feeling the way your pussy is milking him dry as always. “Dios,” he grunts as he buries his cock deep inside you before lowering himself, having no plans to pull out any time soon. He rests over your trembling body and kisses your forehead as you both come down from your highs. He kisses your cheeks next, making it a point to kiss everywhere on your face before kissing your lips lovingly. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. His eyes take in your face in the aftermath of your love making, loving the glow you always get afterwards.

You sigh softly into his touch, into his lips, and slide your hands down his back, caressing it. You’re both in a state of bliss in each other’s arms. You kiss his mouth, taking your time to savor Miguel’s lips. For a few minutes, you lay like that, simply embracing and kissing each other, still connected.

At last, Miguel slowly pulls himself off you. You both know Miguel took his time in order to keep his cum inside for a while, in hopes to conceive soon. He pulls out slowly and rests on his knees, watching between your thighs as his semen slowly spills out, coating your outer pussy, with love. At the sight, Miguel sighs softly before he leans down and kisses your inner thighs.

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” he murmurs gently against your skin before he stands up. In the bathroom, he quickly cleans himself up, not wasting a second longer before he returns to the bed with two damp and warm towels. He finds your thighs closed, so he looks at you, silently asking for permission as he reaches for them.

You smile in amusement, at the fact that your husband is asking for permission when he was inside you not even two minutes ago. Nonetheless, you nod and Miguel, at last, spreads your thighs gently before he tenderly cleans you up, making sure to be thorough so you feel no discomfort of any kind.

Once satisfied, Miguel disposes of the towels and quickly puts on a clean set of boxers. He finds you another clean set of panties along with a clean set of pajamas. Despite telling him you don’t need help, Miguel assists you in putting your panties on, crouching and helping you slide them on before he does the same with the shorts. He hands you the shirt and watches you put it on before he picks you up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” you ask amused.

“Carrying my wife to bed,” Miguel replies.

“The bed is like three feet away,” you respond as Miguel takes those short steps. He lowers you onto your side of the bed with gentleness.

“Shh, let me just spoil you,” he says quietly with a smile as he pulls the covers over you before he joins you in bed.

As soon he settles down, you make a move to snuggle against him. He sighs and immediately accepts, as if he’s missed you in his arms for a long time, even though you were just in them not even a minute ago. He wraps his arms around you protectively, your head on his chest. You sink into his warmth, let it embrace you.

After the wonderful day of surprises and now the intense love making, you begin to feel tired. You gingerly touch Miguel’s skin, your fingertips soft and light as you both lay in bed, happy to be in each other’s presence. You start thinking about the fact that Miguel and you are now trying for a second baby. It’s too early, but you silently hope that by Father’s Day, maybe you can give Miguel a little surprise - a sign that you’re already pregnant. You sigh softly and snuggle closer to your husband just as he rubs your back gently. He leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mi vida [my life],” he whispers as he feels you drift off.

A/N: Want to build a family with Miguel so badly, it's not a joke! 😩 Thank you for reading!!

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jgracie · 2 months

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LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF APHRODITE

masterlist | rules

❝ Can I request percy x daughter of Aphrodite? ❞ — 🧸

in which percy dates a daughter of aphrodite

pairing percy jackson x aphrodite!reader

warnings i had to break up percabeth for the plot im sorry 😞, one swear word

on the radio . . . love me like you do (ellie goulding)

When Percy and Annabeth broke up, all of Camp Half-Blood was in shock

In their minds, they were the couple. The one little kids would look up to and teens would pray to emulate. How could they possibly break up?

Percy wished he knew. I mean, he kind of understood why, but part of him was still confused

You see, it was Annabeth who’d ended things. Annabeth, who had been head-over-heels in love with Percy ever since they were 12. She was nice about it, luckily, but Percy was still hurt

The reason why she ended their relationship was because she wanted to discover herself, and she couldn’t do that with Percy by her side. She’d been stuck in camp nearly her whole life until Percy came along, and when he did, she spent years doing quests and fighting by his side

She felt like she knew who Percy’s girlfriend was, and who Athena’s daughter is, but not Annabeth. That’s why she ended things

Every day, Percy would mope around his cabin, his heart shattered. Annabeth was his first love. He was happy for her, of course, but a larger part of him was sad for himself

To make matters worse, the Fates seemed to be working against him, since he got broken up with just a week before his mother and Paul’s wedding. How was he supposed to attend an event celebrating love when he lost his?

Besides, now he doesn't have a date. Annabeth was still going to go, of course, but with her own ticket, not his +1. The seats were already booked and paid for though, so he couldn’t tell his parents to remove one

Which is why he was in his current situation. Standing outside of the Aphrodite cabin, debating whether or not he should walk away

Percy hated to beg, but he didn’t have much choice. The Aphrodite kids were most likely to agree to go with him, since they love everything to do with love, especially weddings

Recollecting himself, Percy knocked on the front door

“Oh, hi Percy!” Piper said, inviting him in. As soon as he walked in, the whole cabin went silent, all eyes on him. Out of all the people in camp, Aphrodite’s kids were the most interested in his breakup with Annabeth. Percy knew they didn’t mean any harm, as matters of love just genuinely piqued their interest, but he hated the way their eyes were always watching their every move

Quietly, he told Piper, “I want to ask your siblings something, if that's okay,” then, when Piper nodded, he addressed the rest of the cabin, “so… My mom and step-dad are getting married next week and I was supposed to go with Annabeth but she’s not my date anymore and I still have an extra invite so I was wondering if maybe one of you guys wanna come?”

The room, which was once so silent you could hear a pin drop, suddenly became awfully loud as they all argued about who should go with Percy. This didn’t last very long though, thanks to Piper

Eyebrows furrowed, Piper clapped her hands, immediately silencing her siblings, “before you all start drawing lots to see who goes, I’m going to check and see if Y/N wants to go. I think we can all agree she needs this more than anyone, right?”

To Percy’s surprise, there was no arguing regarding this. He’d heard about you in passing before - Aphrodite’s most beautiful daughter, favoured by the Goddess herself not just for your extreme good looks but for your warm heart, dating Annabeth’s half-sibling Ali - but nothing about you needing to attend weddings

Piper went over to a bunk in the corner of the room, one Percy hadn’t noticed was occupied until now, and spoke to you in a hushed tone. When she pointed at Percy, you turned to look at him, and he could see that your eyes were bloodshot

With your arm wrapped around Piper’s, you made your way over to Percy, unfazed by the eyes that were locked on you, “I’ll go with you.”

You spent the days leading up to the wedding getting to know each other, since neither of you wanted to attend a wedding with a stranger, and discovered you actually had a lot in common

Namely, both of you were broken up with by children of Athena. Turns out, you were no longer Ali’s girlfriend - he’d broken up with you a couple days after Annabeth broke up with Percy. Not a lot of people knew, since the news of your own breakup was overshadowed by Percy’s

When he heard that, he apologised, but you’d smiled at him and told him it was fine, since you didn’t want much attention on the breakup anyway. That was Percy’s first time seeing you smile since hanging out with you, and he felt as if Eros himself had shot an arrow right through his heart

He couldn’t fall for you though, not now at least. Both of you were healing from breakups

The longer you met up with Percy, the better you felt. You were absolutely devastated when your now ex had broken up with you, saying something along the lines of, “it’s not you, it’s me,” when you begged for an explanation

You knew the truth, though. People in camp didn’t see you as anything other than Aphrodite’s favourite daughter, a pretty girl who just cared about her makeup and romance novels. While you loved both things, you weren’t anywhere near that level of shallowness

So, they date you just to say that the most gorgeous girl in camp’s dating them, then break up with you the moment you say anything remotely intellectual, challenging their masculinity

Usually, you didn’t care too much, since you know your own self-worth, but for some reason, your breakup with Ali really hurt. Maybe it’s because you thought as a son of Athena, with sisters who were also smart, he’d understand

You spent the first couple days after your breakup doing nothing other than crying in your bunk and reading romance books (which only made you feel worse). Your siblings, bless their hearts, had tried to make you feel better - doing your nails, telling you jokes - but nothing worked

Until Percy. You didn’t know if it was the fact that he was going through a breakup too, or the fact that he was still funny despite having his heart broken too, but he was the only person who knew how to make you smile, pulling you out of the pit you were in and allowing you to bask in the daylight

The week flew by, and eventually, it was time for the wedding. Your siblings fawned all over you as they did your hair and makeup, an Aphrodite cabin tradition. Usually, this tradition was only performed before first dates as a ‘good luck charm’ of sorts, but they decided to do it for you before the wedding

You thought they were just being sweet, forgetting that you shared a mother and therefore they of all people would know when you met the one. Your siblings saw the way Percy brought the glow back to your skin, and were eternally grateful as now they had their precious sister back

They were also grateful to him because you’d be gone for a whole day, meaning there was nothing stopping them from taking revenge on the Athena cabin :) Never underestimate the power of love!

“Hi Percy!” You said, waving, a bright smile plastered on your face. The dress you were wearing was a colour your mother knew suited you perfectly, and it cascaded down your body in waves, the lace detailing doing nothing to calm Percy’s rapidly beating heart.

The poor boy was genuinely afraid he’d pass out as he held an arm out for you, which you gladly took, wanting to be as close to him as possible, “you look gorgeous,” he said, blushing

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, the grin on your face growing. Your cheeks hurt, but something about Percy had you unable to stop smiling

Together, you left camp and headed for the wedding venue - Montauk beach

As a daughter of Aphrodite, you had a lot of experience with weddings. For some reason, wedding invites always seemed to find their way to the children of love, and so you’ve attended lots of them

And you adored every single one, of course, but they all paled in comparison to Sally and Paul’s. It wasn’t the most extravagant you’ve ever attended - just a small wedding with only close friends and family (and you) invited, but you could feel the love radiating off of the newlyweds

That alone made it your favourite, and as a warm, fuzzy feeling coated your body and soul while they were saying their vows, you turned to look at Percy. The corners of his lips were tilted in a smile, knowing how much his mother deserved her happily ever after

Would you ever experience a love like that? And if so, was there a chance it could be with Percy? Sure, you’d only properly known him for a week, but the two of you connected so quickly! Surely, that had to be a sign

You quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Even if it was a sign, you knew neither of you were ready to date yet

So, when the wedding ended, you said your goodbyes and walked side-by-side in silence, unsaid words hanging in the air between you

That was until your heel broke. You knew these weren’t a good pair, having had many close calls before, but you’d hoped they’d last just one more wear since they matched the rest of your outfit so well

“Shit!” You said, stumbling as the heel finally gave in. Subconsciously, Percy grabbed you by the waist, saving you from an awful fall whilst pulling you closer to him. You felt your face heat up at this gesture, which wasn’t doing much to help your confusing feelings

He then let go of you, bending down to untie his shoelaces. Furrowing your brows, you asked, “what’re you doing?” Percy didn’t reply until he’d taken off both shoes, offering them to you

“You can wear these. I have socks,” you couldn’t believe your ears. None of the men you went out with before would even think to do something so selfless. You shook your head, about to tell him you couldn’t do that, when he bent down to put the shoes on you (PERSEUS JACKSON 😭🙏🏼). They weren’t your size, but it wasn’t the end of the world

Shyly, you mumbled, “thank you,” then, looking off to the side, you said, “we can still hang out at camp, right? You’re a really good friend, Percy. I haven’t felt this happy in a while.”

“Of course, Y/N, what kind of question is that? You make me really happy too!”

At that moment, a dove flew over and landed on your shoulder. You smiled, scratching his head. Judging by the fact that it smelt like perfume, it was pretty safe to assume your mother sent it

A good omen

After the wedding, you continued to hang out. In fact, you did everything together - you made sure your cabins were on the same side when playing capture the flag, you joined forces during the chariot races, you even started sleeping at Percy’s cabin every once in a while, on the days when your meetups went past curfew and you couldn’t risk leaving in case the harpies caught you

As the months passed, the gash in your heart healed, and you got to a point where you wouldn’t even think about Ali anymore. How could you, when Percy was right there? He didn’t feel challenged by your brains, he embraced your cleverness and encouraged you to share your thoughts at all times

Percy also started getting over Annabeth. He wasn’t ever upset at her for breaking up with him, but he definitely avoided her. He felt bad about it, but every time he tried to hang out with her again, his heart would ache

Now, their relationship had gone back to what it was before their breakup, and she’d even join the two of you occasionally. On one of her visits, she apologised on her brother’s behalf, to which you were elated to reply with, “Gods, I completely forgot about that!”

Annabeth would simply smile, knowing you had your eyes on someone else now

In fact, everyone seemed to know you and Percy liked each other. Everyone but the two of you

That’s why they’d orchestrated this. The Apollo, Aphrodite and Dionysus cabins, as well as a couple demigods from other cabins, decided to throw a party in celebration of… well, a holiday

The point of this was that there was no special occasion. You and Percy would arrive at this ‘party’ only to realise you’d been tricked, then stay because you just love being around each other, then the fireworks would illuminate the sky and you’d realise how much you love each other and share a romantic kiss under the stars

At least, that’s what your siblings thought would happen

So, news about the celebration passed around camp and eventually made its way to you. You weren’t going to go at first, since you didn’t even know what you were supposed to be celebrating, but then Percy told you he was going. Why would you pass up the opportunity to go to a party with him?

The night arrived, and you left your cabin alone. When you asked your siblings why they weren’t coming, they just started yapping about needing to iron their outfits and wash their makeup brushes, telling you they’d catch up with you later. You left, not questioning much

Hiding behind the bushes was a strange group: Pollux, Kayla Knowles, Piper Mclean and Annabeth Chase. The four had their eyes locked on where you and Percy were supposed to meet up, praying their plan would work

“Ugh, where are they? They’re taking forever!” Kayla exclaimed, quickly earning a chorus of shushes from the other three

“I’m sure they’ll come soon,” Piper told the girl, putting some charmspeak into her words so everyone would calm down

On cue, you and Percy arrived at the venue, your laughter dying down as you realised not a single soul was there. Looking down at his watch, Percy said, “I thought we were late. Doesn’t this thing start at 9PM? It’s 9:30 right now.”

“Yeah,” you replied. You had a feeling there was something bigger at play here. Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the grass and patted the spot next to you, telling Percy to sit

“This area’s actually really nice, we should come here more often,” you said as you looked around. Percy hummed in agreement

Eventually, the four decided you spent enough time chatting, and Pollux lit the fireworks, which shot up to the sky as bright pink hearts. You checked your surroundings, demigod instincts on alert. Had a monster infiltrated camp? Was this their idea of a sick joke?

Percy placed a calming hand on your shoulder, “hey, I don’t think there’s anyone around. It’s okay.” The tension left your body and you looked up at the sky, your head on Percy’s shoulder as you watched the fireworks

There were too many signs

You turned to the boy, and found he was already looking at you

There were too many signs

You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer to you, feeling his breath on your skin. He let you

There were too many signs

You kissed him then, and he kissed back

Dating hcs now 🥳 I think that’s the longest backstory I’ve ever written

You’re a “if you do it, I’ll do it” kind of couple. Even without your charmspeak, you could convince Percy to rob a building just by saying you wanted him to

Sally and Paul were really happy when they found out you started dating. Even though it’d been almost a year since their wedding, they hadn’t forgotten the loving glances you’d take at each other

You tell them their wedding’s your favourite by far and they have to fight the urge to cry

Percy quite literally worships the ground you walk on. You’re not Percy’s girlfriend, he's Y/N’s boyfriend LOL. As your relationship progresses, you open up about all your other relationships and only your charmspeak could stop him from going and giving all those guys a lecture

He’s always hyping you up and reminding you of how you’re worthy of love!!! Even a daughter of Aphrodite needs to hear it sometimes

One day, the Gods seem to be smiling down at him, since he finally gets an opportunity to speak with Ali. Life went majorly downhill for your ex-boyfriend ever since you broke up, and while you’d never wish horrible things upon anyone, you couldn’t help but feel a little happy to hear it

Anyways. Percy was heading to the climbing wall when Ali bumped into him. The latter grunted an apology and Percy was going to just smile at him and continue his journey when he noticed who it was

Immediate scowl. If you listen closely you can hear the nearest body of water churning, mirroring Percy’s emotions. Ali attempts to continue going where he was going but Percy stops him, refusing to let him go until he gets an earful of how you’re the best girl in the world and how scum like him didn’t deserve to be anywhere near a queen like you <3

He thinks you don’t know he did this but one of your siblings was around and reported to you as soon as they saw you! They also told the rest of your cabin and from then on the Aphrodite cabin = official Percy fanclub

This boy loves listening to you talk. Your voice is so gorgeous, just like the rest of you, he can’t help it!! Your words flowed in a way Percy never thought words could

Gets you to read things aloud whenever he can. It’s really funny but also cute so you do it anyway

“Sweetie can you read this I can’t see it very clearly” “Percy that’s the camp entrance you know what it says” “No I think my eyesight is getting worse!!” “Okay fine, it says ‘Camp Half-Blood’”

Also random but you guys watch Say Yes to the Dress and other wedding related TV shows together. A wedding intertwined your fates so naturally you love watching these kinds of things

Always commenting on the dresses! You have an eye for beauty and at first he agrees with you just because you’re so pretty how could he disagree? But eventually you pass your tastes onto him and it’s like he can read your mind

After many of these episodes Percy’s mind can’t help but gravitate towards the theme of marriage and all of a sudden he’s planning your own wedding (WINK WINK!!!!)

This is especially bad in the middle of the night. Texts you pictures of wedding venues with the caption “do you want me to book this one?” Like okay sure for 5 years from now?!?!

Percy “wear whatever you want babe I can fight” Jackson the man you are <3

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x aphrodite reader #percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite #aphrodite pjo #children of aphrodite #daughter of aphrodite #cynwrites

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sh4dys · 19 days

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Mother’s day » All three

summary: how the boys would react if you got MaryLou a Mother’s day gift <3

warnings: gn!reader for all three

A/N: happy mother’s day to all out there!! whether you’re a proud mom of a lil gremlin or a precious angel, today is your day to celebrate your sacrifices! my love goes out to all of you <3 (this includes mothers of cats, dogs, hamsters, etc. you guys deserve it too, they’re tough work)

Chris

- chris probably would have gone with you, thinking you were getting stuff from him to his mom

- you’d get a card, flowers, maybe some chocolate for her as well—the entire time he’s under the impression it’ll be from him

- he only realizes it’s not when he sees you signing your name

“Ma, why are you signing the card?”

“It’s from me to your mom.”

“Oh? She’s gonna love it.”

- he would definitely get all giddy inside, especially if you make a joke thanking MaryLou for keeping him

- afterwards she would pull him aside, expressing how thankful she is that he found you and how you’re a keeper

- and he may or may not have been a lil embarrassed when going to your moms place, awkwardly standing there because he got her a cheap card last minute

Matt

- he was completely oblivious to your plan, not even knowing what you were buying her

- he only realized you got her stuff when you gave her either a put together box or basket of stuff. card, flowers, jewelry, basically anything you could think of

- he was utterly shocked at this, his jaw slack as he watched the two of you converse after the gift

- he’d pull you wider discreetly, making you a bit worried that he was upset

“You know, I really love you.”

“I know.. but also why?”

“You just made my mom the happiest woman in the world! I might as well propose already.”

- of course he’d beg you to get your mom something before visiting her, it wasn’t as extravagant as yours, but it made your mom happy as well

Nick

- he would 100% be in on the plan with you, also getting your mom stuff from him

- you both would be so excited to see your moms’ reactions, wide smiled stuck in your faces

- when MaryLou got your gift, he couldn’t help but admire how the two of you hugged afterwards, pulling you to the side and engulfed you in a hug

“I’m so happy she loved it.”

“I am too. I was worried she wouldn’t..”

“I’m just scared of what your mom is gonna think of my gift.”

- despite his fear, your mom loved his gift

- he either got her a meaningful card, maybe a picture of you two from one of those couple photoshoots, some of her favorite snacks, a candle—basically whatever he deemed fit for her

- at the end of the day you both loved how much the other put into the gifts, and had to call your moms’ to hear how happy they were

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daughter-of-melpomene · 5 months

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HOLIDAY SHOUTOUTS

Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!! Whether you celebrate or not, I sincerely hope that your day today is amazing and full of love and light <3. That said, I wanted to give some special shoutouts here to all the fellow creators who have helped to make my year that much better. I love every single one of you, and I want to thank every single person who has interacted with my stuff and sent me asks about my babies, but for now these people deserve some special love for all they’ve done for me. Therefore, I want to shout out:

— @luucypevensie, for always listening to my ramblings, no matter how crazy, and for always being willing to talk about crossovers with me.

— @dancingsunflowers-ocs, for being so endlessly supportive of all my plot bunnies and ideas, and for making the most beautiful moodboard gift for my boy Sebastian.

— @carmens-garden, for being my man Wyatt’s biggest fan, for making such beautiful gifts for her exchanges, and for being part of the inspiration for my new Teen Wolf OCs!

— @auxiliarydetective, for introducing me to both One Piece and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen this year (and inspiring my babies Star, Lark, Enola, and Lila as a result), always being willing to listen to my half-crazy ramblings, and teaching me about both ancient Roman society and how German schools work.

— @oneirataxia-girl, for inspiring me to actually introduce my Narnia babies, being my girl Annie’s biggest fan, and just generally being the absolute best.

— @starcrossedjedis, for being an amazing newfound friend this year, being the other person who inspired me to watch One Piece, and just generally being a super cool mom friend.

— @endless-oc-creations, for being the biggest champion of my babies Luci and Carlos, convincing me to watch The Walking Dead, and for the absolutely amazing edits she made for my slasher OC.

— @come-along-pond, as always, for inspiring me to watch The Boys, teaching me British slang, and calling me Mother many times on Discord.

— @ginevrastilinski-ocs, for making such beautiful gifts for my girl Ivana for the Halloween exchange, always sending me asks when I needed them, and being my sister in cool Winchester sister OCs.

— @asirensrage, for always being an inspiration to me and putting up with my rambles in her inbox, and being one of the coolest creators in the game.

— @arrthurpendragon, for always being the best OC fairy godmother any of us could ask for, for her amazing fics, and for inspiring me to create my new Pride & Prejudice babies.

— @nolanhollogay and @witchofinterest, for being some more newfound friends this year and always supporting my ramblings on the queer OC Discord - you guys are the best!!

— @richitozier, for always being an inspiration to me, and for having genuinely some of the coolest OCs and most amazing edits around.

— @bibaybe, for working tirelessly to run the queerocs blog and always hyping up my babies and sending me asks when I needed them most.

— @eddiemunscns, for inspiring me to create three new Ted Lasso OCs, being super nice whenever I chose to bother her, and just generally being a cool person.

And so many more people that I’m so sorry if I’m forgetting!! Again, I really really hope you all have an amazing day even if you’re not celebrating anything, and remember I love and appreciate every single one of you!! ✨🎄

#randomness #holiday shoutouts

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devilfic · 2 years

Note

if i could, i’d love to request for a best friends/pining for eddie munson! and i’d prefer a headcanon list but i don’t really care too much either way. i just love your writing dushdhs

❝pining after best friend!eddie munson❞

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader. cw: fluff, best friends to lovers, drug use (smoking), self-deprecation (on eddie’s part. he can’t help it). words: 3.4k.

a/n: oh anon you absolute GENIUS. count yourself lucky; I was super tempted to end this on an angsty note but you’re getting FLUFF from me, baby

oh this guy,,, this guy,,,

you knew about him long before he showed up on your doorstep at 12 years old, dressed in a moth trap of a sweater holding sweet potato pie as an offering on thanksgiving day

who could forget that buzzcut? or the talent show the year prior that got his band disqualified for using “inappropriate language”?

he didn’t run in your circles nor you his, but you could tell from a young age that there was something really special about eddie

whether it was the way he questioned authority or stood up to the status quo, you’d always heard teachers muttering about how he was “more trouble than he was worth”

you’d never had a chance to get to know him, but you did know his uncle

wayne worked with your mom at the plant and had been her ride to work when your car broke down

it was long overdue when your mom told you that he and his nephew would be coming over for the holidays

“I know it’s usually just the two of us, but they always celebrate alone. I thought it might be nice for them to come over”

your mother is doing everything in her power to explain her side but you’re still trying to process the idea of eddie munson—self-described anarchist at the ripe age of way too young for that—being in your house

but you could handle that, couldn’t you? it was just dinner, after all

and it went about as well as it could have with eddie scarfing down your mother’s cooking as his uncle reprimanded him for making a mess

you were worried he’d get sick if he kept inhaling everything not on someone else’s plate

but your mom was honestly just happy to feed another mouth besides your own and kept encouraging him to take what he liked, and you swore you saw hearts in his eyes as he thanked her around a mouthful of food

(followed by wayne smacking eddie on the back)

(that was pretty funny. you laughed)

(and eddie had looked at you, really looked at you, for the first time that day)

you’d presumed, then, that after dinner the two of them would be on their merry way.... until your mom and his uncle got to talking and eddie made a beeline for your room, muttering something about how the two of them would be at it all night

you don’t quite know how he finds your bedroom before you can catch up to him, but when you do catch up to him, you find him lounging on your bed with his head hanging off the end as if he was in the comfort of his own home, reading the novel you kept bookmarked on your nightstand

“you’ve got good taste” he compliments, “can’t say that about everyone who goes to hawkins”

you plop down at the foot of your bed until you’re eye to eye with him, pouting, “you’re gonna make me lose my page”

eddie just smiles and flips over until he’s upright, handing you the novel back, “no worries. you were just about to get to the good part. I should know: I’ve read the thing front and back three times”

your jaw drops in what should be an insulting show of awe, “you read this kind of stuff?”

eddie looks offended, “of course! books about dragons and wizards? that’s cool as shit”

he laughs at the way you owlishly blink at his use of the swear, a..... less than ideal word to use according to your mother

but then he leans in and asks you not to tell on him and he’ll let you read the sequel,,, IF you come over to his sometime

a half hour later, you’re curled up in your bed next to eddie as he dramatically reads the last third of the novel to you, and two hours later (bellies full from dinner), wayne and your mother find the two of you fast asleep next to each other as if you’ve known each other for ages

it kinda just. happens after that. your friendship is sort of inevitable

your mom is overjoyed you and eddie are getting along so well and wayne is just happy that eddie has a friend who’ll keep him in line

little does he know,,, asdjkasjfa

it’s not that eddie is a bad influence on you

eddie is just. so different from everyone else at hawkins

you used to wonder how he put up with not being able to fit in. you saw what it was like for people who weren’t like you and your friends and you wouldn’t wish that on anyone. but when it was just the two of you? the rest of the world really didn’t matter

eddie didn’t mind if you didn’t mind it, and if anyone gave you grief over being his friend, he encouraged you to give them a “stiff middle finger up the ass”

he’d honestly just said that to make you laugh but it still stands

your early years as best friends consisted of hanging out at each other’s places and playing awful cover songs with his band

the two of you would use your collective allowance to buy stuff together that you then shared. some summers, the two of you would take on jobs mowing lawns and cleaning pools just to save up for the newest figurines or comic books

if eddie wanted to read a book you had at your place? he’d just come over and read it

likewise, if you wanted to listen to a new album from your favorite band (introduced to you by eddie, of course), you’d come to his

it got to the point that for your 14th birthday, wayne had gotten an extra key to the trailer made for you and eddie gifted it to you on a necklace

he also insisted on painting it your favorite color and even though the paint was spotty and uneven, you still kept it close to your heart

by the time you’d reached freshman year, you had officially joined the dark side

your friends came and went, social circles shrinking and changing until eventually you were an entirely different person. eventually you stopped sitting with them at lunch, going to their birthday parties, and hanging out after school together. in fact, your only constant had been eddie

it wasn’t hard to follow him

eddie had this magnetism about him. anyone who really took the time to get to know him would understand

you were corroded coffin’s biggest fan, dungeon master eddie’s right hand mage, and eddie munson’s other half

in fact, if the two of you weren’t spotted together, people could only assume one of you was either dead or in a coma

it was best not to joke about that. you and eddie had already drawn up the design for your joint tombstone

you two were practically welded at the hip

he’d throw his arm around your shoulder and give you that signature, mischievous grin of his and you knew instantly that you were a goner

he was the kind of childhood sweetheart that you really should’ve seen coming that day you met

your mom had joked that you were like a lovesick puppy following eddie around at the heels, tuned in to his every word, and it had made you so angry back then

she’d said it in front of eddie too and he did not let you live it down

but then wayne had taken you and eddie to the pool one hot summer and eddie had insisted on playing “shark and victim”

which was just his excuse to make fun of you because he was a far better swimmer than you were asjdkajskd

the “victim” had to swim from one end of the pool to the other before the “shark” pulled them under. if the victim won, they became the shark

at one point, you’d almost gotten to the other side without getting tagged by him

only for his arms to wind around your waist at the home stretch and drag you under

you would have fought him off too if it wasn’t for him dragging you back up and caging you against the side of the pool, laughing maniacally, “I’m starting to think you want me to catch you”

you’d combed his curls away from his face, and maybe it was the way the sun was shining down on him, but the chlorine tears sticking to his eyelashes made him look less like a shark and more like a siren

you’d never in your right mind refer to your best friend as “pretty” under any other circumstance. could never even fathom the idea that a boy like eddie munson could be pretty with how wild he was. eddie smelled, and eddie was loud, and eddie drooled, and eddie would sooner stick his head in a drain than ever be called pretty

boys like steve harrington were pretty

eddie was... well, he was supposed to be...

the lifeguard on duty blew his whistle, murmuring something about no pda in the pool, and the two of you separated in embarrassment

you could barely get out a “you wish, munson” before the two of you were clambering into the backseat of wayne’s car and sharing glances the entire ride back to your place

you’d stayed up the rest of the night wondering what might’ve happened if that lifeguard hadn’t been looking in your direction

but then the next day, eddie was right back to the gross boy you knew and loved and your weird feelings had dissolved

well, mostly

it was normal most of the time. but sometimes he’d say something (”you may be a fan of the band, but everyone knows I’m your favorite. right?”) or do something (like coming by your place when it’s late because he can’t sleep and you’re really soft and really warm, I promise I’ll leave before your mom gets back) and it would come back like an old ache

eddie was your best friend. he was your soulmate. could you really risk all of that for a feeling that only comes and goes?

even if it was coming more than going as you got older

but it was natural to have those confusing feelings. that’s what all the books said, right before the protagonist realized-

well, it was fine. you two were different.

a lot of people thought it was weird that you remained eddie’s friend for so long. your old friends had assumed it would just be a phase, that you were just being nice and that eventually, you’d come to your senses and come crawling right back to them

but then one christmas, wayne got eddie his very own battle vest, and the next christmas, eddie had gotten you one too. matching, with your initials painted on each other’s pockets

and you just never looked back

every once in a while, one of said old friends of yours would catch up with you after class, inevitably poking and prodding about your relationship, “you and the freak are really close, huh? sorry, force of habit. you know I meant to say eddie”

when you were younger, you believed it to be an honest mistake, but now...

it took all there was in you not to get sent to detention for breaking your classmate’s nose

but you’d just clench your fist and remind them that you weren’t just close with eddie, he was your best friend

and you didn’t take slander on your best friend’s name lightly

on one of these occasions, your old friend just didn’t catch the hint

before you could really let your fists fly, someone had stepped in between the two of you and begged them to cut it out

you could imagine your surprise when they turned around and you realized it was chrissy cunningham

the chrissy cunningham

perhaps the only friend of yours from middle school that hadn’t turned into a colossal jerk as soon as hormones kicked in

“I’m sorry about that, he really doesn’t know when to quit. you okay?”

and unlike all the other popular kids in school, you could tell chrissy meant it when she asked

you assured her that you were fine and that people would say shit like that to you all the time, to which chrissy just gets these really big puppy dog eyes

and you KNOW she means well

but when she frowns and goes “god, I’m sorry. it must suck to have people talk about your boyfriend like that” with the most earnest sympathy in her tone

you just completely conk out

because where in the world did she get that from

sure, you and eddie were damn near inseparable. and sure, if you were a stranger who didn’t know any better, you two would think that the way he spoke to you and touched you and looked at you meant something more

but you both were CLEARLY just friends

“oh- he’s not... we’re not... that’s not...”

chrissy’s eyes get impossibly wider and she starts apologizing, promising she didn’t mean to offend you, “I just thought since you guys were always together... I’m so sorry. really!”

she left you with a touch on your shoulder and headed off to her next class, leaving you dumbfounded until eddie bumped his shoulder into yours, “what was chrissy cunningham doing touching a freak like you?”

“uh... making sure I don’t get suspended over you?”

“over me? at least stick it to the man for something good,” and then he locks his arm around your neck and pulls you in close, noses almost touching, “thanks for defending my honor. ”

tobacco and citrus twists on his breath, coating every word as the natural rasp of his voice scratches at your brain

you groan when he ruffles your hair right after

the truth is, whether eddie thinks he’s worth getting in trouble over or not, you do

because you know that just as much as you would follow eddie blindly into hell, he would follow you willingly. knowingly. wholeheartedly

it was special to have someone so sure of you

you think that you’d be stupid to lose someone who loves you so much. of course you weren’t letting him go

and it’s one night that eddie takes you out to lover’s lake and lights up with you (because eddie had promised to stop stinking up the trailer and your mom would throw a fit if she knew eddie was blowing smoke rings at your face) that you realize that’s not entirely apparent

you can tell he’s got something on his mind because he gets quiet when he does

he starts, very gently, “you know, I used to have a crush on chrissy”

your eyes blow wide. why was he telling you this? “you did? how come you never told me?”

“we were like... eleven, and it was super cliche-”

“it is”

“and we weren’t even friends yet. you and chrissy and all those preps and jocks were best buddies. I wasn’t even on your radar, let alone chrissy’s. but even after, I just couldn’t. you know, her being your friend ‘n all. didn’t wanna make it weird between us”

you tried to imagine much younger versions of yourselves having this same conversation over sodas, giggling and warm from embarrassment, “right. because you had a chance”

eddie laughs this real loud laugh of his that scares something nearby. it skitters off into the brush as eddie kicks your leg

but then the laugh dies off unnaturally

you look over at him and his eyes are glassy and far away, reflecting the ripples in the moonlight on the lake. he isn’t looking at you anymore. he’s looking out somewhere in the darkness

a couple unsteady minutes pass before he says something again “I just got to thinking about how alike you two were. when I saw you together the other day. and then I came along and ruined you”

and you should’ve laughed at that like he’d meant for you to. he even tried to smile without it reaching his eyes

but you feel sober all of a sudden, “you didn’t ruin me”

“yeah. yeah, I did. because you’re out here smoking grass with the ‘devil worshiper’ who’s gonna fail senior year for the third time if I don’t get my shit together... you should be out with people like chrissy and jason, going to basketball games, making a life and not a reputation. your friends clearly miss you. that’s why they keep trying to make you forget about me”

“eddie, I could never forget about you. you’re my best friend. I feel more me with you than I ever did trying to fit in”

that makes him smile for real, at least

but his eyes are sad. they only ever really got like that when his mind wandered to a specific thing. even in all your years being friends, you rarely ever talked about it

you remembered the last time you saw him like that, tugging at the skin of his face and muttering about how he was “starting to look more like him everyday”

and you’d told him he looked like wayne more, and sounded like him, and was good like him

sometimes he forgot, though

you take the blunt from eddie’s hand and he relents easily because he’d let you do whatever to him. you stamp it out in the wet dirt near the shore, stomp back over to him, and squeeze his cheeks between your hands until he’s forced to look up at you, “I know you’ve got a thick fucking skull, so listen to me carefully: you are going to graduate this year, eddie munson. you’re going to look ms. o’donnell in her wrinkly, old face and tell her to suck it because you’re going to pass her class with flying fucking colors. and then you and corroded coffin are gonna blow up the metal scene and- and tour with metallica! metallica’s gonna open for you! you’re going to be king of the world, a rockstar, the munson they’ll remember. and I’m gonna be right there with you. because you’re more than my best friend, you’re my other half. where you go, I go. that’s where I should be.”

you take one of eddie’s sweaty palms in between yours and hold it tight, fingers trembling

because it’s not a confession

but it feels like one, doesn’t it?

the jerk on your hands is disorienting, and in your intoxicated state, it’s enough to make you fall into eddie’s lap (to your knees, digging into the dirt on either side of him)

but eddie’s holding you with that hand in yours, his other firmly locked over the base of your spine

if it was midday, you might be able to tell if his pupils were dilated to all hell like you were sure they were

eddie looks at you—stares at you—until he breaks into a sweet laugh, “you’re high as shit, baby”

you’re in the middle of scolding him, asking him “whose fault is that?”, when eddie figures you’ve scolded him enough tonight and he swallows your words with his mouth

his knee rises between your legs, pushing you closer, and even with the pleasurable fog in your mind you’re able to take the hint

you tingle all over as he mouths at you, like you’d thought he’d do in the swimming pool (like you’d hoped he would have done), only 10x better than what little you could have ever imagined

eddie hadn’t had a lot of practice but he knew you better than anybody. all the spots that make you sigh, he digs his fingers into. all the soft dips in your skin that turn into valleys of goosebumps when he ghosts his hands past them. he knows the unbridled euphoria you feel when someone scratches at the hair near your nape, the noise you make unfiltered every time

would kissing him sober feel just as good? you hoped you’d get the chance to find out

“it didn’t last long,” eddie admits, between kisses, drawing your confusion, “that crush on chrissy”

you think, briefly, that you know why, and it sends your heart pounding all in your ears and eyes and throat. “why?” you ask, just to be sure

eddie’s fingers card beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing at your heated skin there, “now who’s the one with the thick skull?

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson scenarios #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things scenarios #stranger things imagines #stranger things headcanons #stranger things #stranger things 4 #mjwrites

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mari-the-bimbo · 2 years

Note

How would ex husband gojo deal with y/n’s birthday?

Ex husband Gojo: your birthday

A/N: Am I going to ignore all the questions about whether y/n is pregnant or not and complete this request instead? Absolutely! *cue evil laughing*

⚠️Warnings: MINORS DNI, sexual content, fingering, swearing, implied breeding

“Mom you guys wanna come over today since it’s my birthday?” You ask your mom on the phone, fiddling with your nightgown nervously, knowing her answer.

“Shouldn’t you spend the day with your kids? Call Gojo over too, he deserves to see his kids celebrate your birthday too” your mom replied. You sigh, hanging up before your mom could peak any further.

You wish your parents weren’t manipulated by Gojo too. You knew every word that came out of your mom’s mouth was words Gojo put in her head.

Gojo’s pity words of ‘wanting to keep his family together’ fit perfectly with your mother’s old fashioned mindset of forgiving your partner ‘for the kids’ - that’s why Gojo always ran to your mother in disputes, knowing the woman who birthed you would still side with him.

You suddenly hear giggling coming from outside your bedroom. You smile sweetly, loving the sound of your children’s giggles first thing in the morning.

“Happy birthday momma!” They burst into your room, cheering happily when you pretend to be happily surprised. “Thank you my angels! C’mere” you say, hugging your adorable mini me’s.

You hear footsteps outside your room. You know it’s him, you brace yourself, ready to face your ex husband.

“So where’s my birthday girl?” you hear his annoying voice coo patronisingly as he enters your bedroom, he’s dressed smartly, wearing his shades as usual.

Suddenly his lanky figure blocks your view, as he towers over your body from the side of the bed. “Found you” he adds with a wide cocky smile, mischief plastered all over his face.

He enters the bed and gets under the covers casually, causing the kids giggle at Gojo. He starts touching you under the sheets but you keep your mouth shut after seeing the kids look so happy.

You watch your younger daughter make grabby hands at Gojo, who leaned towards his daughter’s touch, you subtly watch her whisper to her daddy to ‘distract mommy while we finish her card!’

You bite your lips to hide your laugh when your older son’s big icy blue eyes looks at you panickedly, hoping you didn’t hear his and his sister’s little plan.

You watch Gojo laugh before pinching his daughter cheeks before shooing them both out the room.

You sigh as you feel Gojo’s head turn towards you, you can almost see his wide victorious smile, knowing he has a golden opportunity to keep you to himself.

His pale fingers dance across your shoulders, “you know y/n.. I didn’t get you a birthday gif-“

“I don’t care” you snapped.

He laughs. An amused laugh, he loves how easy it is to rile you up, of course you care, he always brings you luxurious gifts, you really expect him to believe that you don’t care? Hell, he’s probably the only person you would’ve got a gift from!

“How about I make it up to you with a gift right now?” He suggests, his voice growing deeper as you feel his hands sneak your nightgown.

You squirm around, trying to resist the urge of giving in to his heavenly skills in bed. You’re frustrated, he knows that. After all, he’s the reason you don’t get any action from other men.

“Fuck off-! The- the kids are downstai-“ you try to reason but your protests are swallowed by Gojo’s mouth as he shoves his mouth onto yours, kissing you feverishly, he dominates you easily, groaning as he does.

He sloppily makes out with you, his fingers pushing past your underwear to play with your sweet spot, his fingers quickly become coated in your cream. He smiles against your lips in excitement.

“All that for me baby? And here I thought you wanted me to fuck off” he mocks with a cocky wide smile.

You ignore his idiotic teasing, too busy chasing your own pleasure, bucking your hips against his fingers. He watches you adoringly with a lazy smile, happily giving into you, after all it’s your birthday right?

His other hand rests on your hips helping you grind harder against his long fingers. You hiss in pleasure, you can feel your knot tightening in your tummy. He kisses your tummy with a hum while still fingering you.

He looks up expectantly at you as he picks up the pace. He knows you’re close, he’s fucked you enough times during your marriage and afterwards to know every close detail. His own eyes roll back at watching the pleasure on your face.

“Happy birthday baby” he whispers breathlessly as you release, gushing all over his fingers, he stares down at the masterpiece you’ve created on his fingers.

He laughs psychotically as he licks the arousal off his fingers, looking directly at you as he did.

You close your eyes, pretending to be tired, but you both know it’s out of embarrassment of giving into him again. He smiles at you nevertheless, kissing your cheeks. “You’re like a horny teenager that can’t control herself” he chuckled against your cheeks.

You push him off you annoyed, “can you shut up for 5 mins please?” You groan, he laughs once more, before he stares down at your stomach, stroking it like he did last time.

You know what he’s thinking.

“I was lying about not bringing you a gift, it’s with the kids because they wanted to put the gifts together” he spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Thanks” you muttered.

“Now pull your gown down” he orders, which you quickly obey when you hear your children’s giggles as they run up the stairs.

“Happy birthday mommy!” The kids cheer in unison as they present the big gift to you.

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you.

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you.

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop.

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes.

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy.

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him.

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before.

Happy.

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle.

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement.

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you.

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you.

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes.

Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground.

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath.

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but…

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin.

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.”

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free.

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit.

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth.

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen.

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come.

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion.

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–”

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you.

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips…

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it…

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him.

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw: noncon #tw:dubcon #tw: drugged reader #tw: infidelity #angst #pain #manipulation #fun times ahead

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Note

Could you do something about going to your school reunion with Tom and your kids and you’re pregnant again or something. Thank you xx

Cute!! Yes of course babes, hope you like it! Feel free to keep seeing in requests guys xx

Reunion

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You’re not feeling the good the night of your reunion

Masterlist

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⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“Do we have to go?” Tom groaned.

“Yes,” (y/n) nodded, “I want to show off my hot husband and my cute kids, so we’re going.”

He rolled his eyes, “You can do that online.”

“We’re going,” she squeezed his shoulder calling up the staircase, “Kids! Dinner’s ready!”

Their five year old son came sprinting down the stairs first, followed my their three year old daughter, who was much slower as she navigated the stairs mostly by scooting down them. (y/n) plucked her up when she reached the bottom of the stairs, setting her in a booster seat so she could read the table.

“Are you going to be good for your uncles tonight?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

“And you’ll make sure your brother is good too?”

She giggled and nodded while he frowned, “Hey!”

(y/n) ruffled his hair with a smile, “I just wanna make sure you two are gonna be perfect little angels while we’re gone.”

“You better be,” Tom threatened as placed a plate in front of each of them, “Mommy and I have a lot of kissing to do tonight so we can’t be coming home for any meltdowns.”

Their son cringed while their daughter giggled, “Tom,” (y/n) pinched his side.

He smirked and kissed her cheek, “Sit down love, I’ll get your food.”

She sat opposite the kids, making faces at them until Tom sat the food in front of her. One look at the plate if plain pasta and broccoli had her sick. She’d been nauseous for a few days, and even without the pasta sauce the meal seemed too much.

“What’s wrong?” Tom frowned at her.

“Just my stomach,” she pushed the plate away and stood up, “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

“You two can eat, I’m gonna help mommy,” Tom smile to the kids before getting up from the table, he wrapped an arm around his wife, trying to help however he could, “Maybe we should stay home.”

She shook her head, “I’m fine, it’s probably just food poisoning or something.”

“Are you sure?” he frowned.

She nodded, “I’m fine.”

Tom held her hair while she emptied her guts into the stomach, rubbing her back and trying to convince her to stay home. She had refused though, instating opting to just sit on the couch while they ate. The kids had dotted on her while Tom did the dishes, until their uncles arrived and sick or not, their parents were no longer interesting enough to keep their attention.

“You okay?” Harry raised a brow at (y/n), his niece already thrown over his shoulder in a fit of giggles.

She nodded, “Just a little sick.”

“I don’t think we’ll be out long,” Tom offered her his hand with a frown, “I’m sure she’ll want to come home quick.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, leaning on him as she stood.

“Last time mommy was sick I got a sister,” their son giggled as Sam lifted him off the ground, “I want a brother this time.”

The adults all froze, everyone stared at (y/n) with wide eyes, “No, no, I’m not pregnant,” she shook her head, “It’s not as bad as it was with either of the kids.”

“You two need to start wrapping it up,” Sam scolded, “We can barely manage the two of them.”

Tom rolled his eyes and passed (y/n) her purse, “I think you’ll survive.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Things had only gotten worse after they arrived at the school, (y/n) tried to stay positive while she caught up with old friends, but it was obvious to Tom that she wasn’t feeling well at all. He was dwelling on what their son had said, despite her certainty that it wasn’t anything serious. Both of them were a bit unsure whether or not they wanted another kid, and while they hadn’t been trying, they hadn’t been doing anything to prevent it, figuring it would just happen if it happened.

“Tom,” (y/n) grabbed his arm with a frown, “We’ve gotta go home, I can’t stay here all night.”

He nodded, “Alright, we can go home.”

“Thanks,” she leaned on him on their way out, “Don’t say anything though, I still had fun, and I know you liked it too.”

He laughed as he helped her back into the car, “I won’t rub it in your face until you aren’t sick anymore.”

She rolled her eyes, “Shove it Holland.”

“Unless you aren’t sick,” he hummed.

“Of course I’m sick,” she shot him a glare.

“You sure,” he glanced towards her stomach, “I mean it’s possible.”

She groaned, “No, not another summer pregnancy Tom.”

“I’m just saying it could be, I know you said it doesn’t feel the same, but I mean, no harm in taking a test right?”

“No,” she sighed, “Let’s pick some up.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“You guys are back early,” Harry commented as the couple returned home.

“Yeah, she’s not feeling well,” Tom rubbed her stomach with a frown, “We’ll be right back.”

Tom helped her up to their room, only to be left there alone so she could pee. He paced the floor anxiously while he waited for her, excited butterflies starting to flutter in his stomach. When she finally opened the door he froze, just waiting for her to say anything.

“It’s got to sit for another minute,” she sighed, “You wanna come watch it with me?”

He nodded, pushing right past her to peak at the small test sitting on the table, “How long?”

“Another minute or so,” she hummed, “Excited?”

“Yeah, I mean I know we’ve been on the fence about it but I’d be really happy to have another,” he kissed her head, pulling her into his chest, “I think the kids would be excited too.”

She nodded, “We should keep trying if it’s negative.”

“Hey, I’m down to try whenever you want,” he teased.

She laughed, “Yeah, I know you are.”

“And if you are we can celebrate,” he hummed, eyes still locked on the small sticks, “Look there’s one.”

“And...” she leaned in, “Holy shit.”

“Oh my God,” Tom squeezed her waist as a big smile overtook his face, “You’re pregnant!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Okay calm down, we still have to go to the doctor,” she reminded, turning to face him, “But I’ve never had a false positive before...”

“I love you,” Tom pressed his lips to hers and squeezed her against him with a laugh. “Woah, careful, I’m still sick,” she laughed, “Don’t shake me around too much Tom.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers with a smile, “You’re perfect you know that?”

She rolled her eyes before an excited squealing broke them apart, “Mommy!” their son threw himself at her, latching onto her leg with a smile, “Up!”

“Be gentle with your mom, she’s still sick,” Tom lifted him up with a frown, “How’d you get in here huh? I thought your uncles were watching you.”

“He’s fast,” Sam huffed, following him into the room, “Sorry.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tom ruffled the boys hair, “What do you need you little monster?”

“I just wanted to see mom,” he blushed, “I thought she wouldn’t be sick anymore.”

“She’ll be sick for awhile,” he hummed in response.

Sam knit his brow, looking to (y/n) before his eyes landed on the counter, “Wait, wait, wait, are you actually pregnant?”

(y/n) groaned while their son went wide eyed, “Come on Sam.”

He blushed, “Sorry...”

“Mommy’s pregnant?” their son stared at Tom, waiting for an answer.

“Um, probably,” Tom responded.

“Tom!” (y/n) snapped.

“What? He asked.”

“I might be pregnant,” (y/n) confirmed, “We don’t know yet though.”

“Mommy’s pregnant!” he kicked his way out of Tom’s arms and went sprinting down the hall, screaming the whole way.

(y/n) sighed, “You two are dead.”

“Sorry love,” Tom kissed her head with a smile, “Look if it turns out you aren’t we’ll just keep trying until you are.”

“Ew,” Sam gagged while Tom laughed. The kids came sprinting right back into the room, Harry following behind them now, trying his best but failing to catch up.

“Mommy are you pregnant?” their daughter looked up at her hopefully, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

(y/n) dropped to her knees in front of her, “We don’t know for sure yet sweetie, but maybe.”

“Can I see it?”

She laughed, “No, it’ll be inside of me for a long time first.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s gonna stay in my tummy for awhile so it can get a bit bigger.”

“Woah,” she mumbled, staring at her mothers stomach in disbelief, “How’s it gonna come out of there?”

“A doctor will take it out.”

“Woah,” she repeated before leaning in close to her stomach before poking it.

“You have to be gentle,” her brother scolded, “And nice too, it can hear you talking.”

“Hi baby,” she giggled.

The kids continued cooing at her stomach while Tom sat down besides her and dotted kisses over her shoulder, “Much better than a reunion ey?”

She laughed, letting her head fall on his shoulder, “Much.”

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princessofprocrastination · 3 years

Text

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds.

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners.

you felt good.

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’.

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised.

but then it didn’t anymore.

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of.

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life.

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial.

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him.

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours.

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him.

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier.

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online.

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george.

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up.

hence the apology.

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias.

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways.

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue.

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen.

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from.

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it.

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that.

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song.

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people.

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet.

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter.

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.”

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down.

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances.

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe.

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying.

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this.

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app.

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own.

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube.

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now.

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode.

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze.

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth.

the camera cuts to another clip.

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer.

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name.

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’.

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw.

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you.

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused.

the scene cuts again.

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying.

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen.

that was the first time the camera caught you crying.

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch.

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs.

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room.

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk.

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow.

the scene cuts again.

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet.

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip.

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull.

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip.

the scene cuts again.

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent.

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there.

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it.

and it cuts again.

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours.

this was when you were still in college.

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together.

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him.

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber.

your ex boyfriend’s grave.

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you.

you were just staring at his stone, not moving.

and it cuts again.

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera.

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings.

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up.

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little.

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said.

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created.

the scene cuts there and goes into another.

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic.

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat.

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font.

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter.

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life.

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him.

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube.

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there.

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while.

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify.

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him.

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it.

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic.

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.”

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave.

and were you watching? hell yes.

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram.

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos.

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship.

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds.

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders.

you smiled, yet continued playing.

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs.

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing.

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord.

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.”

#georgenotfound imagines #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound fanfic #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Note

gotta know how u think billy would be as a dad with his kids :D

I had so many requests for Dad!Billy headcanons 😭

I hope you're ready for this chaotic ramble.

Please remember this is my Billy I'm writing

You know those parents who take like a million pictures of their kid and show them to everyone? The kind that talks about their kid nonstop to anyone who'll listen? Their family, friends, the poor random old lady at the store that just wants to buy some damn milk.

That's Billy.

He's such an unbelievably proud parent, his pride for his kids knows no bounds. It doesn't even need to be some kind of milestone worth celebrating, everything his kid does makes him proud. You better believe when his baby has an explosive crap and ruins their clothes, he's boasting about it the next day to Frank and the guys at Anvil.

He's incredibly protective. Murder is a possibility if his kids in danger. He wants nothing more than to keep his kids safe. If they're being bullied, it takes all of his willpower to stop himself from kicking the kids ass for doing that to his kid. He's not above picking a fight with the bullies dad though if they don't get their little shit head in check and also making it known to the principle that this shit won't fly with him.

"Mr Russo, I don't think you understand how serious this is. Your son broke a kids nose," the principle mutters with a glare.

Billy tilts his head, regarding the teacher with those unsettling eyes that has the old man squirming in his seat.

"You’re damn right he did," Billy replies seriously, a proud tone to his voice. His dark eyes cut to his left where his son is, practically his double. As Billy smirks, unable to help himself, his son wears the same one although he's lowering his head to hide his amusement.

"We don't tolerate that behaviour here, Mr Russo," the principle huffs. Billy's eyes harden then as his eyes narrow, sitting forward in his chair just the right amount to be imposing. The second the man leans back he knows it worked.

"You know what I don't tolerate? My kid bein' bullied. You assholes won't do shit to stop it, so I say let the little fucker get a taste of his own medicine. Serves him right for messin' with a Russo," he smirks wickedly.

He teaches them self defence, wanting them to be able to look after themselves if it ever came down to it. Naturally, for their 16th birthday, they're gifted with a big ass knife.

Billy as a dad is so stupidly soft.

We all remember the scene from the show, right? Where he's in the hospital with his mom and he says;

"Maybe you did me a solid, you know? I mean, the way I see it, you want weak kids, give 'em everything. But if you... if you want 'em strong... treat 'em hard."

When he has a kid of his own he realises just what utter garbage this is. The idea of all the shit he's been through making him into the tough son of a bitch he is today is born from trauma that he still hasn't dealt with. The way his brain tries to rationalise what he went though. To make it make sense instead of it being so goddamn senseless.

But if he's honest, more than he'd like to admit, he finds himself wondering just what his life would have been like if he grew up in a loving home. What it would be like to feel wanted and cared for. To rise to the top being helped and cheered on by others instead of clawing his way there with bloodied and dirty fingers, the weight of the world bearing down on him as he's beat down at every turn.

He never wants his kids to feel that way. Not even a fraction of how unloved and unwanted he felt. He does everything in his power to make sure they know just how much he cares about them. There's literally nothing he wouldn't do for his kids. They could turn up at home one day and confess to a murder and Billy wouldn't hesitate to ask where the body is so he can handle it for them.

Billy is ridiculously sentimental when it comes to his kids. Drawings go up on the fridge and when a new one takes its place, the old one goes into a box of many others that he can't seem to ever throw away. He has multiple pictures of his kids at his office, even some framed cute drawings they did for him. He's kept all the mementos from the pregnancy, birth and onwards. They're his little treasures.

Billy is super supportive of everything his kids do. He makes sure they get a good education but he never pushes them to do something they don't want to do. Despite the large college fund he's got for them, if they choose not to go to college, he doesn't pressure them. Instead, whatever hopes and dreams they have, he does everything in his power to support and help them. Whether that's moral and emotional support, money or even breaking a few jaws of people standing in their way.

Let's look a little bit at how he is throughout some of the ages of his kid.

Billy with a baby is a sight to behold. No one has ever seen Lieutenant William Russo so goddamn soft. Once he's got hold of his baby, you've got no chance of getting them back off him. You'd have to fight him. He adores holding his little one close, soaking them in. He's constantly holding them no matter what he's doing and baby carriers and wraps are a godsend to him. You'd heard about them from a friend and told Billy and you better believe by the time the baby's born that he's an expert on all things baby wearing. He's a perfectionist and carrying a baby wrong can be dangerous. He makes sure he knows how to do it right.

Just as he has little affectionate touches for you, he has the same for his baby. His large hand stroking their tiny head and little hair. His finger stroking their chubby little cheek. He's a tactile person and touch is grounding for him. It soothes him to do so with his baby and reassures him they're really there and that they're okay.

He's super attentive. Of course he works a lot but as soon as he becomes a dad, he doesn't stay late anymore and makes sure to have days off. The second he comes home, he's making a beeline for his baby, scooping them up with a grin. He loves to read to them, something that continues as they grow up. His weekends used to be restful or if he was feeling like a masochist, he'd work from home. But now weekends are his time to shine. By the time you wake up on a Saturday morning, he's already up with the baby, making you breakfast as he's got the baby attached to him via baby carrier.

As his baby grows into a toddler, each milestone makes him tearful and full of pride. He kisses any booboos that happen and he's constantly playing with his child. He has a pretty silly side to him that most don't get to see. Making his kid laugh and smile brings him the greatest joy.

He loves taking his toddler to the office with him. Everyone dotes on his kid and treats them like royalty.

When they turn into a small child, he watches with a proud smile and amusement as his kid wants to fight with his men, watching them 'beat' the shit out of them. The guys at Anvil are more than happy to very dramatically go down, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree when the tiny Russo grins smugly at their 'win'.

Their first day at school and Billy's a mess. It's such a turning point and he doesn't know how to deal with how fast their growing up. But every achievement at school, even minor ones, and he's showering them with praise.

He encourages them to work hard and as soft as he might be, he is still the boss. He makes sure they do their homework and don't fall behind on their studies.

One thing Billy loves is teaching his kids stuff. Whether that's mundane stuff to help with school or teaching them shit he knows like survivalist things, because you can never be too prepared, right? He loves helping them with school projects and answering any questions they might have about one of the many things he's knowledgeable about.

When his kids moves onto those hard teenage years, the ones where everything feels so dramatic and world ending, he's a little tougher when it calls for it. Billy is no novice to rebellion, he has a rebellious streak of his own and marches to the beat of his own drum half the time. He respects that. What he doesn't respect or tolerate is behaviour that's going to fuck his kid over in the long run or self sabotage. He will be firm and a hard ass if he needs to be to keep his kids on a path where they don't get hurt or ruin their life.

Billy has a zero tolerance policy on drugs. After the shit with his mother, he won't budge on this. If he finds out his kid is dabbling in drugs, they're grounded until they're old enough to move out.

No matter what age his kids are, Billy loves them immensely. He wants to be the father he wished he'd had growing up and he pours all of his anguish and pain from his upbringing into it. Channeling it into the purest form of love for his kids. To break the curse that had hold of him. He won't perpetuate the cycle.

Being a father brings him a sense of completeness and peace he didn't think was possible for him to achieve. It fills the void that's been eating away at his soul from his lack of love as a child and he loves every second of being a parent. Even the hard moments.

Bonus:

The Russo's and the Castle's go on monthly camping trips together. Billy loves the outdoors, the mild survivalist feelings he gets from it without the real danger. He loves taking his kids there, teaching them everything. In his role as dad and uncle, he sits around the camp fire at night, the light of the flames dancing along his face as he very theatrically tells the kids a spooky story.

You and his kids are his immediate family but the Castle's are his family too. So he really loves it when you all get to spend time together like that.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo headcanons

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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛 Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him.

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably.

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love.

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him.

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend.

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off.

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees.

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man.

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?”

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly.

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious.

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #kpopscape #ficscafe #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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dandelionflower · 3 years

Note

I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

#felinette #ml felix #felix agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml alya #alya cesaire #ml nino #nino lahiffe #ml adrien #adrien agreste

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 2 - Juice Box

“We’re here for Y/N Winchester.” Sam called out to the strange voice that filled the room. The very same voice had greeted them the moment they stepped into the lobby.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Appointment? Who the hell does she think she is? Some kind of celebrity?” Dean complained, a scowl starting to grow on his face.

“Come on Dean, chill.” Sam tried to keep his brother calm. “She’s an Avenger now. Say what you want, but she is important.”

The Winchesters couldn’t help but be awed by the magnificent structure and interior of the building when they first walked in. The Stark Tower would be the last place they’d ever go to on any other day. But this wasn’t any other day.

“No, we do not have an appointment. But could we set one up right now?” Sam once again talked to the air. He kind of made out that he was talking to an A.I, the too-formal voice bordering on robotic giving it away.

“I’m sorry, but there is no Y/N Winchester here.”

“What? Sammy, you said she lived in this stupid tower?”

“I thought she did. Maybe she moved?”

“Are you looking for Y/N L/N?” The voice replied.

“L/N?” Dean made a face at his brother. “Who the hell is that?”

“I think she changed her last name.” Sam gulped, trying to hide the hurt on his face. Dean went silent. They were both thinking the same thing. If she erased Winchester from her name, there’d be no way in hell she’d be happy to see them at all.

“Yeah, we’re looking for her.” Sam gulped nervously.

“Please place your hands on the glass.” The voice instructed.

“What glass?” Dean questioned, and immediately a couple of square glass boxes glowed in front of them. When they looked closer, they saw the shape of a hand etched onto it’s surface.

“It’s a scanner.”

They did as they were told, placing their right hands on the glass. It glowed yellow a few seconds after.

“Miss L/N is on the sixth floor.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably. They were both nervous to see their sister again, after all these years.

“Dean-“

“It’s too late to turn back now. We have to tell her what we need to.” The older of the Winchesters sighed, knowing full well what thoughts were swimming in Sam’s mind. He knew because he shared those thoughts too.

When the doors opened, they were hit with the reality of the moment. As soon as they saw their sister, their minds went blank. She was dressed in a leather jumpsuit, and next to her was a familiar blond man carrying a little boy who had fallen asleep.

After what seemed like forever, she finally broke the silence. “Sam. Dean.” Y/N acknowledged them, breathless.

They stepped out of the elevator, worry evident on their faces. You haven’t seen your brothers in years, so long that they’ve become nothing but a distant memory to you.

“Y/N, we need to talk to you.” Sam, your younger brother, stepped forward. You were frozen in shock. The last time you saw them, you had been disowned. That was almost seven years ago.

“What do you want?” You said, with no hint of joy in your voice. Steve could tell how confused and angry you were, noticing the tremor in your voice that only he could point out. He saw the way your nostrils were flaring despite your efforts to hide it. He would’ve walked away had he been anybody else, but he knew you needed him by your side right now. More than ever.

“We need to tell you something.” Sam insisted. “It’s important, I promise.”

You supposed he was telling the truth. There’d be no other reason for them to come here and meet you face to face. They hadn’t contacted you in a long time. You couldn’t think of a reason why they’d be here in the first place.

“Then tell me.”

“I think you might wanna sit down for this.”

Sam was doing all the talking. All the while, Dean just stood there, looking at anywhere else besides you. All these years and he still hasn’t forgiven me? You thought.

“Babe.” Steve’s voice alerted you. You had almost forgotten he was there, and you were grateful he didn’t leave. “Come on, let’s go to the living room.”

He grabbed your hand, tilting his head in the direction of the couches. You took a moment, eyeing the living room as a thousand thoughts bounced around your head. I could say no. I could walk away and leave them just like they did with me.

“Y/N.” Steve grabbed your chin gently, turning your head to face them. “You should go.”

You nodded slowly. He was right, and you hated that he was. But no man knew you better than he did, and he knew you’d regret it if you pushed your brothers away now. “You should go too, he should be tucked in bed.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically. In all honesty, you wanted him to be with you. But this was something you needed to handle on your own, whether you liked it or not. Plus, you couldn’t risk your baby boy waking up in the middle of a heated conversation.

“Yeah.” You planted a kiss on James cheek before pecking Steve on the lips. “Go.”

He squeezed your hand before letting go and walking to the elevator. You watched as the doors closed, knowing that once they did, you’d have to face the two men standing in front of you.

Your brothers didn’t miss the exchange between you and Steve, and they couldn’t help but wonder who they were to you. But there was no room for any other questions, their minds focused on one thing only; telling you the news.

“Let’s go.”

You lead them to the living room, making a beeline for your favourite couch. You sat on it cross-legged, grabbing the fluffy pillow next to you and putting it on top of your legs. You held your hands together, waiting for them to start the conversation.

“We came here to tell you something important.” Sam began, clearing his throat nervously.

“Yeah, I know. What is it?”

“It’s not exactly...good news so much as it is bad news.”

You nodded curtly, trying to look like you were listening, but you were distracted by Dean. He had made the decision to not sit down and instead he paced around the room, looking at all the objects rather than making eye contact with you. Your eyes followed him, and it wasn’t long before Sam noticed and did the same too.

“So, what? You still won’t look at me after all these years?” Venom dripped from your tone, laced with hurt and anger that you no longer wanted to hide from them.

Dean stopped ‘studying’ the piece of decoration that he held in his hands, trying to think of a response. “I’m not the one who changed my last name.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You told me I wasn’t a part of the family anymore. I thought, might as well.”

“Well, how nice of you, Miss L/N. ” He said the name menacingly.

You stood up, fuming with anger. “Seven years, Dean. Seven. That’s how long it’s been.”

“Look who kept count.”

“Oh, fuck off. If you’re gonna be an asshole why don’t you see yourself out?”

“Guys!” The tallest of them three yelled, joining them in standing up. “Can’t we just...talk?!” He was desperate for a civil conversation, especially since what he was about to tell his sister was important.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, breathing heavily as you tried to keep your cool. You were far more mature now than you were back then, and you knew arguing wasn’t the best way to handle this as much as you wanted to.

“Look, Y/N. A lot of shit has went down since you left- we left you.” Sam corrected himself. You noticed his change of words, and you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. “And I know, you don’t want anything to do with us anymore.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You recognised the pain, it was the same pain that almost destroyed you when your brothers left you. It wasn’t true, what Sam said. There was a part of you that missed them deeply. They were family after all.

“But what I’m about to tell you is...it’s...” he struggled to find the words. Dean took a deep breath before cutting him short.

“Mom’s alive, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure you heard him right, blinking hard a few times just to make sure you weren’t out of it. “Come again?”

“Mom is alive. Our mother, Mary Winchester, is alive.”

The room started to spin. You weren’t sure how to feel. “H-how?”

“It’s a real long story. The short and sweet version is, God’s sister brought her back.” Dean answered.

“God has a sister?” You didn’t really care if he did. But the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who you’ve longed to meet your whole life...was alive. Your mother’s death had basically been the reason why the Winchester’s were hunters. And so much has happened since then.

When your father died, you spent months feeling guilty at the fact that you never got to truly, truly know the man. You had believed you were unfortunate enough to be someone who never really knew their parents. But now...you couldn’t believe that you had a chance to do just that.

“That is definitely not the short and sweet version, Dean.” Sam scolded his brother. Then he looked your way, starting to get worried when you didn’t speak for a good minute. “Y/N?”

“Mom...Mom’s alive.” You whispered to yourself. “Where is she now?”

“In our bunker.”

“Bunker?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, wondering if they should lay out the whole seven years of their lives for it to make sense to Y/N. “Yeah, we have a bunker now.”

“In Kansas?” You took a wild guess.

“Right up in Lawrence.”

Your brain was buzzing with a thousand questions that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask just yet. The main question was...would they willingly let you back in their lives? Would they let you talk to your now-alive mom?

“Y/N,” Sam took a step towards you. “We could take you to her if you want to. That’s what we came here for. We knew you’d want to meet-“

“Mommy!”

Sam was cut off for the second time that day, but this time it wasn’t so harsh. And it didn’t come from an adult man.

“Hey, sorry, honey.” Steve came in carrying the (Y/HC) boy who was crying uncontrollably. “He had a nightmare. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop crying. He wanted you.”

James often had nightmares recently, and you were the only one that could soothe him. All thoughts of the previous conversation disappeared as your focus shifted to your motherly duties. “Oh, no. Come here baby boy. Momma’s here.”

As you reached for your wailing son, your brothers’ eyes went wide. When the looked at each other, they had the same expression; confusion and guilt. The fact that they had a nephew that they didn’t know about this whole time made the regret of not ever contacting you in the span of seven years stronger. Guilt churned in their stomachs.

Steve had went to the kitchen to fetch his son a juice box, but when he came back he had a couple of beers in his hands, along with the juice. He handed the beers to the two shocked men wordlessly, and they accepted it graciously.

James was now sniffling as you rubbed his back soothingly, planting kisses to his head now and then. Steve jabbed the straw through the juice box before giving it to you.

“You want some juice, baby?” You gently put the juice box in his hands. With a pout he nodded, putting the straw to his lips and drinking quietly. “Shh, now. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

After a while, his breathing returned back to normal. It was only then you remembered your brothers were watching the whole thing. You looked up to them, seeing the confused expression on their faces as they sipped their beers.

“Where’d you get those?” You whispered to Steve, nodding slightly towards the beers in their hands.

“Fridge. I think it’s Tony’s.”

You gave him a small smile, “Are you trying to win their approval? You know you don’t need it, right?”

“I’m just trying to be a good...host.”

“Of what? This isn’t a party, Rogers.” You almost laughed.

“Who’s that?” The small, sleepy voice interrupted your conversation. James pointed his tiny finger toward Sam and Dean, who sat up straighter when they saw the little boy look at them.

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You weren’t sure who to introduce them as. You didn’t even know if they wanted to be anyone to your son. Steve’s eyes met yours, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘Want me to handle it?’. You chewed your lip nervously, hoping your son would just forget the question.

But luck wasn’t on your side today. “Mommy, who’s that?” He grabbed your shirt.

“Um...” you sighed. In that moment, your eyes met Sam’s. His eyebrows were furrowed, an expression you recognised as his stressed-out look from growing up with him.

“We’re your...uncles.”

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Part of you was thankful that he replied, but part of you was upset because it would be cruel to tell a three-year-old boy that and then leave forever.

“Uncle?” James tilted his head, putting his pointing finger down. Whenever he said ‘uncle’, it sounded like ‘un-caw-l’. It was the cutest thing ever. Usually it would bring a smile to your face, but now all it did was worry you.

“Daddy.” He turned to Steve.

“Yeah, bud?”

”Can I have some of uncle’s drink?”

Steve stifled a laugh, “No, baby. I think you should stick to your juice box.”

You looked at Sam, eyebrows raised. He shrugged, a small smile growing on his face.

Boy, were you in for a life-changing ride.

#jesus what was i on while writing this...#spn x mcu #supernatural reader insert #the devil's in the details spn x mcu #avengers reader insert #supernatural x marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x winchester!reader #marvel reader insert #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #mary winchester #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff

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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years

Text

All That Was Good - Chapter 3

A/N: This story has just been a delight to write. Thank you to everyone who loves and comments about this story. It absolutely warms the heart. <3 As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. :) Stay safe!

This story is also on AO3

xxxxxx

Faith.

It was as natural as breathing when Claire knelt and caught her daughter in a tight hug.

“Ma!” Faith chimed and it swelled Claire’s heart. She couldn’t stop the tears that feel even if she tried. Seeing her photo in the wallet and now, in the flesh in the span of 5 seconds was more than enough to break Claire down.

But it was definitely more for Jamie, who by now, has completely lost it. He was openly crying in awe and disbelief for the daughter he’s never seen or met but prayed with all regret that he could’ve. After everything that happened in Paris and even though they have settled it between them, deep inside his mind and heart, Jamie blamed himself for her loss.

Hearing Jamie sniffle and wipe his nose and face, Faith turned to him and quickly reached out her arms, requesting him to carry her. Without hesitation, he picked her up and held her close to his heart.

Pushing herself up from his shoulder, Faith turned to Jamie with a question. “Da, sad?”

“No, no, not sad. Da is verra verra happy right now.” he quickly assured his daughter with the biggest smile on his face. “We’ve just missed you so much”

Faith mirrored his smile as Jamie continued to take her in. “She has your eyes.” he remarked to Claire.

“And your everything else!” Claire jokingly scoffed back at him. She then, squinted and too, shook her head in wonder. “Jamie, I - “

“I know. I can’t believe it either.” Jamie finished the sentence. He opened his free side to her and she quickly slided in, wrapping Jamie and their daughter together in her arms as close as she could.

The next five minutes have been the most blissful time yet.

If the Beauchamps or the Frasers noticed Claire and Jamie’s puffy eyes and tear-streaked faces when they came to the dining hall, they (thankfully) didn’t mention it.

To Claire and Jamie, everything was new - but to the foursome in front of them and the baby between them, it was practically routine and regular.

Brian, Ellen, Henry, and Julia were talking about the latest in business and social events they were planning to attend. Claire and Jamie tried to keep an ear out to get some clues on what their families may be doing at this time but it was proving to be hard when there’s a two-year old, red-headed Fraser calling your attention every minute whether it was giving her food, her giving them food, wiping her clean, and listening to her stories in the past week she was with grandparents. Between the two, Jamie and Claire focused on Faith, savoring everything about her. Everything else can wait.

They were taken out of their focus when Ellen asked Claire a question. “So, Claire, darling, what was the news ye had to tell us?”

Claire swallowed the food she was chewing and looked at Jamie, a silent conversation ensuing between them. Jamie looked at her belly and maybe got her answer. It was the only thing of significance they could think of at the moment.

“Oh, our news” She put her utensils down and everyone followed suit waiting to hear what’s next. “Well, Jamie and I are very happy to share that little Miss Faith here…” she tickled Faith’s belly resulting in a short giggle. “...is going to be a big sister.”

They waited with baited breath for any reaction and hope that it was information they haven't told before. A few seconds later, all four grandparents erupted in celebration with the news, standing and looping Jamie and Claire into taps and hugs.

“How far along are you?” Julia asked.

“About two to three months. We just found ourselves.” Claire replied.

“Have ye told anyone else?” It was Ellen’s turn to ask.

“No, you guys are the first to know”

“Can we tell the rest of the family, then, give them a quick call?” Brian chimed. Jamie and Claire nodded even thought they weren’t sure the extent of it. However, Brian offered the list immediately after. “We’ll call Willie, Jenny and Rabbie. And of course, we’ll reach out to your Uncle Lamb.”

Jamie quickly clutched Claire’s hand and she did the same. Their entire family and more.

It wouldn’t be far fetched that Claire and Jamie might think that they may have died and gone to heaven because this was everything. But until that reality falls down upon them, they will take this experience and make the most of it.

“We should plan to get everybody here together and celebrate, maybe in another month’s time?”

“I agree, plan for a proper celebration. Plus, I think Lamb would also like to be out of the house once in a while.”

“It’s a date then!”

The parents made all the arrangements and Claire and Jamie were just left to happily agree.

The four grandparents continued their catch up to the library and Claire and Jamie decided to explore the estate. They brought Faith with them, not wanting to part with her just yet, even though the little girl was napping on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Uncle Lamb must be in his 80s now but from what I gathered from my mom, he’s still strong but prefers to stay at home these days.” Claire shared, pulling out a cloth and wiping a drool from Faith.

They’ve checked the family photos and deducted what they could. In this time, William Fraser was married to Mary McNab, Jenny and Ian are together and already have wee Jamie and Maggie, and Rabbie is still in uni finishing his studies.

Further reviewing the contents on both their wallets, what they’ve found so far are: Lallybroch is a whiskey distillery, Jamie and Claire are based in Glasgow, where Claire’s a nurse, and Jamie heads the Glasgow branch of the business - thankfully, jobs that are not necessarily out of their range.

As for how they met, their past, and other information to their present, nothing much on that end yet. Maybe once they head to their own home, they’ll find more answers. But for now, they believe they have enough information to process but more importantly, let go a bit to focus more on Faith.

The day passed rather quickly, with Jamie and Claire coming back to the house to cool off. They made their way to the living room, laying Faith down in one of the solo sofa chairs while they settled on the other.

Jamie pulled Claire beside him and kissed her temple in reverence. She, in turn, cuddled closer to him, crossing her legs on top of his. Soon, sleep took over both of them once again, a much deserved nap as they adjust to today’s time.

Jamie and Claire were woken up when they felt something trying to grab or climb at them.

“Oh, hi, darling. Did you have a good nap?” Claire asked Faith, she herself sitting straight and waking.

“Yes. Are we going home now?” Faith asked as she bear hugged her mother.

“Not yet. We’ll stay one more night and go tomorrow.”

It was nearly dinnertime and one of their parents might’ve opened the lamp to give the space some light. Claire turned to Jamie and found him tenderly looking at the both of them.

“I dinna have the words, Claire.” Jamie sighed and began. “I ken meeting our parents is one thing but meeting her, seeing her, feeling her, talking to her…” he reached to brush Faith’s hair. “Seeing what it is of her or me that is in her, watching ye become a mother…” Jamie shook his head. “I could talk about it all day, Sassenach. But after ye, this has been the best blessing in my life. And I promise ye, I wilna take it for granted.”

“We won’t take it for granted, Jamie.” Claire reiterated their commitment. She, then, turned to their daughter to ask “Do you want to cuddle with Da next?”

Sure enough, the little lass pulled out of Claire’s embrace and proceeded to go to Jamie’s. He put his nose in her head and breathed her in. “Mo nighean ruadh, tha gaol agam ort”. He grabbed Claire’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle. “Mo nighean donn, tha gaol agam ort”

“I love you, too, Jamie.” she replied, squeezing his hand in agreement.

“Love too, Da” Faith said so simply and Claire and Jamie could just not stop the tears from flowing.

Unbeknownst to them, outside the door, Ellen accidentally overheard their unusual conversation when she was coming to get them for supper. Throughout the day, she’d observed some things are rather different but nothing to be alarmed of. However, the chat did leave her a bit confused.

Letting the thoughts pass her mind, she knocked on the door loudly and got the family for dinner.

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melzula · 4 years

Text

The Throne

part one

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: so excited to finally be getting into the Koa storyline with you guys! I hope you enjoy ♡

summary: though a party is held in her honor, the Princess doesn’t feel welcomed home just yet. but will the help of some old friends bring her one step closer to taking back the throne from the scheming Koa?

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Your crown weighs heavily upon your head as you walk through the palace hallways, chin held high but shoulders tense as you pass by the guards and officials who look at you with silent judgement in their eyes. None of the faces are familiar as all of the men you’d known growing up had been sent off to war and killed in battle. The new recruits now in charge of protecting the royal family all had been assigned by Koa, and you’d have to be blind—sorry, Toph— to ignore the malice and resentment in their hard set gazes as they watched the girl undeserving of her title waltz by as if she hadn’t abandoned her people for the enemy. Koa had made it adamantly clear that the so-called Princess cared not for her tribe but rather her own selfish wants and desires, and they believed him.

Outside the palace servants and cooks and decorators all scramble by in preparation for the party being held in your honor; your mother had insisted on a welcoming party to celebrate your return, though you doubted many people shared her sentiment. There were a handful of members from the tribe who were so glad to have you back, who showered you in warmth and thanked you for aiding the Avatar in ending the war so that their husbands and fathers could return safely, and little girls who shyly tugged at the skirts of your dresses and expressed their admiration for you and their desire to one day be a strong, fierce fighter like you. But there were also those who overlooked your accomplishments in order to focus upon your faults and your mistakes, who agreed that you were not ready to take control of the throne and some who even went as far as to say you were undeserving of it, that a water bending princess who strayed from healing and trained in fighting was untraditional. And of course, there was the group of indifference who needed extra persuasion to decide whether they were for or against you. Overall, the party didn’t seem like the best idea, but your mother was adamant that you use the opportunity to reconnect with your people, so you obliged. You’d survived a strike from a crazed Azula, so surely you could handle this.

“Princess,” one of the servants calls, bowing before you in respect before handing you a neatly tied scroll, “a messenger hawk from the Fire Nation was sent for you with this scroll.”

“Thank you,” you nod, containing your smile as you politely dismiss her before opening the scroll to be greeted by familiar handwriting.

“Princess,

I know it’s only been a week since you’ve left but I already miss you greatly. It’s odd not having you by my side, but I know you’re doing great things back in the south. I hope to see you soon once I have all of my affairs in order, though that could be some time. Until then, expect a messenger hawk at least once a week. Take care, y/n. I love you.

- Zuko”

“Oh, Zuko,” you sigh softly, clutching the letter to your chest in a form of comfort, “I really wish you were here right now.”

It was definitely going to be a long night.

~~~

The steady beat of the drums reverberate through the walls and pound in your chest as you anxiously adjust your headpiece and prepare to make your grand entrance. The beads that hang from your jewelry click against one another with your movements, a calming sound that brings you comfort and reassurance despite your nerves, and you are only allowed a single moment to hide your scarred hands underneath the pure white fabric of your gloves before the two guards begin to escort you out to greet your tribe.

Your mother sits at the grand table amongst the elders of the tribe, a proud smile on her face as she watches you emerge from the palace with grace and dignity despite how nervous she knows you are, and as soon as your presence is announced you are greeted with an obligatory round of applause from your people. Koa rises, a bowl of black paint in his hand and unreadable expression on his lips; he does not bow to you as he is expected to, but no one other than you seems to mind.

“It is with great honor that I bestow the mark of welcoming upon our Princess,” he announces as he dips a finger into the black paint and presses four dots on each cheek before drawing an intricate swirl on your forehead meant to represent the tides washing back to the shore— a symbolic mark of your return home. “May she be welcomed with warmth and gratitude after her three year long journey from home.”

You smile proudly, waving to your tribe as some cheer and others politely clap and most share looks of uncertainty with one another. The return of their princess was now official, but one unspoken question remained: who would take the throne now? You startle at the sudden weight that falls upon your shoulder, Koa maintaining a neutral expression as he leans nearer and whispers in your ear.

“Remember Princess, this paint won’t last forever. Every welcome washes away eventually.”

He pulls away from you like nothing, leaving you stunned and stiff and with no time to recover as he smiles and announces, “Let the festivities begin!”

You are given no chance to retaliate or fight back as you are suddenly pulled every which way by your guests. You are offered various dishes, asked for endless dances, and you can’t even count how many times someone has asked to see your scars. It seems like hours pass before you are finally given a chance to breathe, seating yourself at the table and devouring your plate of puffin-seal sausages— dancing had made you absolutely famished. It’s lonely and, frankly, quite intimidating sitting at the head table by yourself, almost emphasizing the fact that despite being the Princess you aren’t exactly welcomed back, at least not completely.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A shy voice asks. You quickly swallow the large chunk of sausage in your mouth with a grimace before turning your attention to the boy in front of you who greets you with a friendly smile and sheepish wave.

“Kai!” You exclaim, happy to have a familiar face to keep you company. “You’ve grown so much, I almost didn’t recognize you. Of course you can sit.”

“Thanks, y/n,” the boy says before seating himself beside you. Kai was the silent, soft spoken son of Koa, the boy you would have married had you not ran away. Unlike his father, Kai was good company and never once gave you any trouble. He used to bring you colorful fish scales when you were children, and because his father was your father’s advisor you often spent time together as kids. You got along well, but you never saw him as nothing more than a friend despite how often your parents tried to get you together.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Kai. I’m in great need of a friend,” you admit with a faint smile.

“Yeah, these parties are mostly for the adults if I’m being honest. But it’s nice to see you, too. You look really different. Uh, good different, of course.”

“It’s been some time since we’ve last seen each other,” you note thoughtfully, your solemn gaze focusing upon the festivities before you. “So much has changed.”

“It isn’t so different. Now that the war has ended the men are back and we can start rebuilding. The outer villages should probably receive the most attention considering how small they’ve gotten and how little resources they have, but my dad says we should focus on the capital tribe first. If we’re weak then the smaller tribes don’t even stand a chance. At least that’s what he says, anyway.”

“I agree with you,” you say, turning your attention to him then with an apologetic look on your face. “Listen, I know you were originally promised my hand in marriage, and I’m sorry for running out on you. I didn’t want to hurt you, but an arranged marriage wasn’t part of my destiny, and if I hadn’t ran away I never would have found myself or became the person I am today. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kai laughs quietly, awkwardly tugging at the collar of his coat. “I never really wanted to marry you anyway.”

“Wait, what?”

“My dad was the one who came up with the idea. Ever since we were kids he’d been trying to convince your dad that an arranged marriage between us would benefit the tribe, but Chief Tukon wasn’t exactly thrilled by the prospect,” Kai explains offhandedly, as if his revelation wasn’t incriminating evidence that would prove his father was up to something. “My dad was really persistent though, and once your dad was gone he convinced your mom it would be a good idea to have someone there to look after and protect you now that your father was gone. Normally a marriage like that would be untraditional, but he said the circumstances of the situation made the proposal an exception, so she accepted. Honestly, I was kind of relieved when you ran away and the wedding was called off. I mean, no offense, you’re great, but I like us better as friends.”

“Me too,” you murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the newfound information Kai has given you. All this time you had assumed the marriage proposal had been your parents doing, so to find out that it had been Koa who had been so persistent in your marrying of his son only confirmed the fact that he had been after the throne since the beginning much like you’d suspected. Regaining the throne from Koa was going to be much harder that you initially presumed, he wouldn’t give away his power that easily, and you knew then that you wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

You rise suddenly from the table, startling Kai who watches you curiously and blushes at the chaste kiss you press to his cheek.

“I have to go, but thank you so so much for keeping me company. You have no idea how much you’ve just helped me,” you explain quickly before rushing off and sneaking away from the party, leaving Kai flustered and a bit dumbfounded.

“Uh, you’re welcome...?”

~~~

You watch the early morning sunrise from beyond the horizon, the golden rays of sunshine sparkling along the crystal blue ocean and the outer walls of the palace and reflecting off the irises of your eyes. If your calculations are correct then they should be here any minute now. You’d sent the messenger hawk with a letter of urgency for assistance shortly after your conversation with Kai, and since that night you’d anxiously been awaiting the arrival of your allies. A ship approaches in the distance and you suck in a breath, wrapping your cloak (Zuko’s cloak, actually) tighter around your frame as the icy air crystallizes almost painfully in your lungs before subsiding. They’re here.

The ship pulls up silently to the dock before lowering its ramp, and tears begin to well in your eyes at the sight of the siblings who are quick to rush towards you with open arms and wide smiles.

“Y/n!” Sokka exclaims, lifting you up off the ground in a bone crushing hug before setting you back down on your feet so that Katara may do the same.

“I’ve missed you both so much, thank you for coming on such short notice,” you say with a teary eyed smile, shifting your gaze from Sokka to Katara. “I’m sorry to have pulled you away from Aang and your work on the Harmony Restoration Movement but I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t apologize. As much as I love spending time with Aang, this is more important.”

“Yeah, we left as soon as we got your message,” Sokka agrees. “I can’t believe that jerk would treat you like that after everything you’ve done for our tribe!”

“I wish more people shared your sentiment,” you say with a weak smile. “I know Koa’s up to no good, but I need the proof to convince everyone else.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. Detective Sokka is on the case!” He announces firmly only for both you and Katara to shush him. It is early, after all, so most of the tribe is still asleep, and you can’t have anyone know about your plan to remove Koa from the throne.

“What my brother means to say is we’ve got your back,” Katara says with a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you breathe, tufts of air blowing past your lips and escaping into the air. “And you told no one about why I invited you here?”

“As far as Aang and Zuko are concerned, we’re here helping you sort through your father’s old belongings and reorganizing the palace.”

“Though, I have to admit, I feel like you maybe should have told your boyfriend about this,” Sokka notes offhandedly. You frown.

“This is water tribe business, I can’t bother Zuko with something like this, not when he has his own nation to run and rebuild. Unless things take a drastic turn we won’t be telling Zuko about Koa until it’s over and done with,” you instruct, earning head nods from an understanding Katara and a reluctant Sokka.

“Alright,” he finally sighs. “So what’s first on the agenda?”

“Katara and I are going to have to look through Koa’s things for any evidence or plans he has in regards to taking over the throne permanently. Sokka, I’m going to need you to blend in with his followers because spirits know he has a lot. Try to gather whatever inside information you can, but don’t blow your cover. You’re going to hear some nasty things about me and you can’t react to them, you have to act like you believe them too,” you explain.

“We can do it,” Katara says firmly. “I’ll even talk to my dad and see if there’s any way he can help.”

“Alright, operation Get Back the Throne is a go!” Sokka says excitedly, and you can’t help the faint smile that pulls at your lips in response.

Getting rid of Koa isn’t going to be easy, not by a long shot, but with Katara and Sokka’s help you know you can put an end to this once and for all.

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