#((throwing the pain like a water balloon that happens to get EVERYONE--)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashmouth-richie · 11 months

Text

master list

Eddie x fem! reader

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

Absolutely no minors, gtfo. Hopefully everyone has read the warning post from earlier this week regarding this chapter. it is extremely dark themed.

Heavy violence

References to past rape/ assault

Blood, gore

Domestic violence

Somnaphilia

Character death etc

A/N: please know your limits. I love you and let’s get into this chapter so we can move on.

The brown popcorn bag spun lazily in the microwave like an oily inflating balloon. The steady hum of the appliance kept you company as the countdown to the sad supper ticked to an end. The cheerful ding springing you from the staring contest you were having with the counter top.

The small radio you had purchased was sitting on the counter, the soft belt of Linger by The Cranberries was playing for what seemed like the tenth time today and you couldn’t help but feel the lyrics in your blood.

Unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A typical night after working at the bar. Showering and throwing on a pair of pajama shorts, tucked next to the pair of Eddie’s boxer briefs you had found last week.

After investigating why the washer banged all to hell when even the smallest of loads were in it, wedged tight under the plastic agitator were his underwear.

And you’d be a fool to say you hadn’t broken down and sobbed in the basement on the discovery.

You dried them and folded them neatly next to your delicates. The same drawer that held the worn and tarnished pig ring he gave you as a Christmas gift, and the envelope full of cash.

The water works started again.

Hot tears flooding your eyes, the simple act made you feel like he was home with you. But the nightmare always continued.

You missed him so much.

“But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

If you were a tiny bit more awake you might have caught that the door to the garage was locked even though you had no memory of locking it yourself.

..And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Rustling the steaming bag from the microwave with burnt finger tips, you toss it on the counter hastily. Sucking your fingers into your mouth to dull the stinging redness away.

Do you have to let it linger?

And maybe it was then that if you weren’t busy nursing the premature burns, you would have noticed the odd set of keys on the counter next to the mail, pushed to the side by the buttery bag of popcorn.

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

Bending at the waist to the lower cabinet you reach around for the smooth plastic of the yellow popcorn bowl. Upon standing you feel dizzy. You hear it before you feel it, the loud thwap of something heavy against the back of your head. The pain is searing and turns your vision to black. You’re passed out before your head even hits the floor.

(1987)

The November air whipped into reddened skin, striking out any heat you had left in the confinements of the peach sweater you borrowed from Nancy on your frozen walk to Forest Hills Trailer Park.

It happened again.

And this time it wasn’t an accident, no matter how much he begged, no matter how many times he said he was sorry.

He hit you with a closed fist.

You weren’t flirting with Dustin. He was your friend. Way before Chad had taken any interest in you. Most of your friends were guys, besides El and Max, and even though Nancy Wheeler was older and more popular— you considered her a friend too.

When she left for college this past fall, she insisted on making her room more stylish to your liking. And she never once minded the twin beds you both slept in, a night stand between them.

But when Mike sat next to you at lunch and was going over notes from Kensington’s class, Chad’s mind twisted it into Mike hitting on you. Which led to Chad hitting on you, but instead of compliments and doting behavior— he drug you out to his car, a bony grip on the back of your neck.

He screamed at you with every vein protruding from his tan skin. Voice hoarse and throat stretched tight.

Apparently you were fucking people behind his back. Even though you were a virgin. The town whore! He had yelled loud for even some of the teachers to hear, all turning a blind eye to the obvious domestic abuse happening on school grounds.

Explaining yourself only made it worse.

He slapped your face hard when you opened your mouth to interrupt him. And when you stood your ground and raised your chin to him, calm and steadily telling him to go fuck himself, he swung a fist into your eye.

And that’s when you left.

His apologies trailing behind you and caught in the gut of wind to travel far away from your ears. He wouldn’t follow you, he had appearances at school to keep up.

Much easier to tell Aaron and Sean that you got your period and were being crazy then explain why he had left school.

The gravel crunched beneath your feet, frozen from the last winter storm and holding pockets of ice amongst the rocks.

Pale blue and still holding the old television lawn ornament, you sighed audible when Eddie’s van was parked outside of the aluminum sided trailer.

You hadn’t seen him since graduation last May. The night Chrissy’s extra curricular activities with Rick finally came out when they were caught fucking in the shower upstairs, at Steve’s house. Both sporting pricked arms with needle marks.

A broken hearted Eddie drank all night long and puked into the hot tub.

Your quickened steps up to the concrete stairs and a shaky broken knock on the screen door have you stepping back waiting for the door to open, awaiting Eddie’s stupid grin waiting on the other side.

Living with Eddie you had no reason to be afraid. Many nights the front door was left unlocked. And maybe it was out of habit. Maybe you had left it unlatched tonight too.

It would explain how he was there now.

Hovering over you, his blond hair coined perfectly slicked to the side, slightly feathered back with thick styling gel. A Ralph Lauren polo with the logo on the left chest. His cologne reeked of some designer brand, making your stomach queasy.

The only difference between those years ago and now was that he had a small dusting of a flesh colored mustache wiggled on his sweaty lip. Same maniacal inky blacks to his blown pupils, laced with the piercing blue.

The realization ices your veins and stings your eyes with angry tears.

Chad Cunningham was in your home, his body over yours as you're pinned beneath him, the smell of iron invading your nose. Looking around with wild eyes you see the crimson streaks from the linoleum in the kitchen to the carpet where you are laying. Your head thumping with the rhythm of bloody drops against the fibers of the worm carpet.

“Been a long time hasn’t it, honey bun?”

An eternity wouldn’t have been enough.

Pressing his body into yours, you can feel the stiffness of his starched shirt as you try to will your arms to fight him away. He chuckles at your feeble attempts to push him off.

His weight presses deeper into you as he lowers his mouth to your lips, squeezing your face he almost sings, “Told you I’d see you soon.”

His lips are harshly planted into yours, feeling like jagged rocks against your soft waters.

“Fuck,” he groans, hard against your thigh. “just like I remember. I’ve missed you.”

The clink of his belt unthreading from the loops of his khakis finally renders your senses. But you wait with calculated timing.

Leaning back, he stares into your face with a quizzical expression burrowed deep on his brow. “What’s the frown for? Don’t you miss me? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Evident that his delusions still ran deep, it’s showtime. You would survive this. One good hit, that's all it would take.

Pushing yourself up gently, your head is swimming with nausea and the steady dripping tick of blood down the back of your neck.

Placing a shaky hand to his cheek he moves into your hand, the same way Eddie had that night, your stomach somersaults at the memory.

When his eyes shut, you turn your fingers into a clawed position, and scrape the flesh from the corner of his eye down to his lip.

It happens quickly and with your blurred vision and pounding head it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He wasn’t expecting it.

A kick to his ribs hurt your bare feet probably more than it injured him but you needed the extra time to escape into your room.

The phone feels cool against your cheek, and weighs heavy on your shoulder when you realize it’s dead. The plan of you running in here, dialing 9-1-1 and holding him off until they came was foiled.

“BITCH! You can’t hide from me!”

Knowing you only have seconds before he finds you, you

frantically look around for something to defend yourself with. Searching eyes land on the window.

Just need to get out and run to Mr. Griffin’s house.

Fingers on the frame you yank upwards, palms digging into the wired screen, pushing it out.

Throwing your leg out into the darkness of the night, you’re one step closer to being safe. One step closer to ending this night of horrors before it could begin.

The noise of splintering wood and the crack of a door being snapped from its hinges join your erratic breath and piercing screams— a monstrous reel of symphonic sound.

Chad twists a thick fist into your scalp, freeing the hair from its follicles in a sickening pop as you scratch your nails into the window sill, trying to hold on.

He’s stronger than you, no different than years before. And when your body crumbles onto the floor with a squelching thud, splinters of lacquered wood and nails that once held the door in place, pierce into your exposed skin.

But that is minor league compared to the shattering pain delivered from his fist into your face as he straddles you.

“Think you can hide away with that freak from me?!” He rocks his closed hand into your other cheek, this time clipping your eye with a gold wedding band.

Your cries fall on deaf ears. Tears stinging and trying to drip from your swelling eyelids.

“Honey bun,” he purrs into your ear, “don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t find you.”

His fingers move to brush your hair from your face, and he holds your head in place when you try to bite at his fingers.

His wicked smile could make the devil’s scaly skin crawl.

“Such a dumb whore, forgetting I have eyes and ears all over this town.” Placing his grabby fingers on his breasts, he continues, “Aaron and Sean may not be the brightest candles on the cake but they are loyal.”

Aaron…Sean.

You rack your brain for any recollection of those names. and it finally clicks. Chad’s friends in high school, following him around like he was the King. A snap of his fingers and they’d move like henchmen. Fighting anyone who got in his way, putting themselves at risk just to say they had a friend from a rich family.

The realization swims in your eyes and scares your tears dry.

“No.”

“Pieced it together huh?” Chad laughs wildly. “They work..” he grunts, hips rutting against you, pinching your perked nipples in his tight grasp, his fingernails digging through your shirt around the delicate skin, making you squeal, “..with the freak!”

His deranged cackle doubles when you yell out in pain.

“Small town bosses don’t lock their offices, and it was too easy for Aaron to find your address, even easier to find out that Eddie had left your ass here, unguarded, alone, waiting for someone to save you, and honey bun here I am!”

His sick twisted smile oozes fear further into your gut, brooding and feeding on any small amount of joy you had left.

“You need a fucking psychiatrist.”

“Such harsh words for that sweet mouth, but don’t worry!” he reassures, eyes wide with delight and a psychotic expression on his face as he brings his voice low and secret-like, “I won’t kill you yet, the boys are looking for Munson and when they find him…” he lowers himself to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue against the split flesh.

“Fuck!” He bellows, licking his lips savoring your taste on his tongue, “when they find him they’re gonna bring him here, and it’ll be arranged to look like the freak killed you and then himself.. a lover’s quarrel gone bad.”

He rubs his face and grunts again at the warbled wails you let out, squeezing your breasts and bucking into your clothed crotch. “Goddamn,” he groans, his eyes rolling into his head at the sound of your cries, getting off on your distorted face, “I just couldn’t help myself, had to come here and do this first. One last goodbye.”

You’d rather be dead at this point. You wish he’d kill you now and get it over with. But the thought of Eddie seeing your lifeless body haunted you. And you stop crying when his hands close around the hollow of your throat.

“Gonna be mine, one last time honeybun?”

“Fuck you,” you croak beneath his hands on your throat.

You’re weak and running out of time. Rolling your tongue against your teeth and cheeks, harboring a mixture of saliva and blood you wait until Chad is leaning over you, and when he’s close enough you spit the concoction into his face.

Chad bellers out, letting go of your throat and standing abruptly to wipe his face. The split second he’s distracted you try to crawl away, but he kicks you down.

Delivering several soccer styled strikes into your stomach, his voice spewing insults with every jab of his white Nikes into your body.

A raging shock of fury paints his face.

“What did I tell you hmm? If I can’t have you— no one can!” You scream loud when his shoe propels into your crotch, shocking your pelvis with burning heat.

All noise is void when he rolls you over and crashes down on your beaten body, clobbering your tear and blood streaked face, blow after blow. Your eyes are swelling shut and you’re surprised when you see Eddie’s face, before your eyes shut.

It feels like home.

-1987-

The warm smile you missed so much was not there to greet you. A cold calloused “what?” finds you instead.

“Eddie?” you ask with a scratchy throat, clearing it once, twice, to answer him against the wind.

Grumbling and stomping in the trailer is heard. Along with two separate giggles.

The door is yanked hard inward revealing a version of Eddie Munson you’d never seen before. His skin was sunken in on his cheeks, dark circles rimmed his eyes. His once soft features were sharp and lackluster, brooding with ashy shadows and skin that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in months.

He looked gaunt and hallowed out, his ribs poking against the cindery color of his skin. The warm whiskey eyes that once danced when he laughed were now gaping blacked marbled, polar and dull.

He speaks but you are too busy holding your breath from the stench of rotting clothes and unwashed bodies.

Stumbling over an apology for not hearing him, you are startled when he barks back, “I said, what the fuck are you doing here, Tooty?”

You look to the floor and notice he’s wearing a heavily stained sock with a hole in the toe, the other foot bare, next to a pair of work boots are three pairs of women’s shoes:, heels, keds, and pink reeboks. Your toes wiggle in your worn converse.

“I’m.. I uh..”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “oh for fucks sake spit it out! You selling raffle tickets or something for school? Pep team need new Pom-poms? Or maybe the chess club is looking for a new board?”

Shock stealing your speech you stand on frigid feet digging your fingers into the yarn on the Nancy’s sweater. Tears bite your lashes and fall on cold cheeks.

Eddie! Where’s your lighter? A sultry voice coos, padding feet getting closer to the threshold.

“Listen kid, I’m fucking busy, I don’t have time to haul you around because twiddle dick and dum forgot you at the gas station again.”

He has barely looked at you since you got there. The guy who held more merit to you than your own brother was gone.

When you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater he lets out an exaggerated groan.

He thrusts dirty fingers into his sweatpants pockets. Pulling out a perfectly rolled twenty dollar bill, he flattens it smooth. He smears his finger along the length of the bill, collecting remnants of a fine white powder, which is quickly shoved into his greedy mouth and rubbed on his gums like he’s brushing his teeth.

“Here,” he grunts, shoving the drugged money into your pocket, avoiding your eyes at all cost, “now get lost.”

The blinds on the door are still swinging as you stand there dumbstruck and watery eyed. Low voices are murmured through the thin walls as a lighter flicks and sizzles.

Who was that baby?

Nobody.

And that’s exactly who you were to everyone you knew, nobody.

And ironically enough— that’s exactly who you could rely on.

One thing was for certain: Eddie Munson was a stranger to you.

The tears fell harder on the shameful walk back to Chad. But you weren’t sure if you were crying harder because of the sudden loss you felt from an old friend or because of the pain in your eye.

Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie jiggles the door handle, it’s locked and he panics and realizes he still has his key. Fumbling with the key ring, Eddie finds the short brass one and unlocks the door.

The sight of the mostly empty house is jarring, causing his stomach to drop , a small recliner rests in the living room where his couch once sat. Wine is spilled from the kitchen to the living room, smeared like it was swept poorly with a mop.

You never drank wine.

Maybe you started drinking heavily after he left. He did. It only made sense.

But a second glance at the claret colored stain embedded into the carpet and his worst fear was realized.

Blood.

The sound of something wet and thwacking settles into his bones and shakes his spine. Someone was hurting you.

Heavy docs lead him to the corner of the house, your room and his old room. Where his door was intact, yours was shattered. Like Jack Torrance took his ax to it in The Shining. Stepping on cracked wood, Eddie sees the most horrific thing he’s ever been a witness too.

And suddenly he’s six years old again, helpless. Watching a woman he loved lose a battle she didn’t even know she was in. But instead of his mother’s lifeless body crumbled by his father’s feet, instead of her dark curly hair matted with pooling blood and a gaping bullet hole— It’s you underneath a guy he doesn’t recognize.

Your face is battered and covered in blood, the once plush lips he held so warmly between his own were split and slack. Your eyes were swollen, lacking any shine to them they normally held.

His eyes connect with yours for a brief second, and when they close he doesn’t know if they will open again.

Fury radiates through his entire body, masking the pain of heartache at the sight of you slipping from him.

Before he can acknowledge the thought of you being gone, he lunges at the catalog Dad dressed asshole. Knocking him off your body and landing on top of him, colliding into your dresser. The tangle of body parts wrestling for purchase tumble into the hall. Ringed fists land home on every surface of this guy's face, and when he stops to take a breath— he realizes the face he is hitting is Chad Cunningham’s.

How did he find you? Had he been stalking you both since that day at the grocery store?

Didn’t matter all that he cared about was throwing this mother fucker the biggest ass kicking of his life, and he wouldn’t stop until either Chad or himself was dead.

“I’ve waited years for this day,” Chad spit, after getting a punch in when Eddie was in his own head, knocking Eddie’s jaw to bite down on his tongue, filling his mouth with blood immediately. “Trailer trash Munson finally came to play.”

Taken by surprise, Chad shoves Eddie from him and stands up, looking through the doorway at your limp body.

Eddie stands slow, using the bathroom doorknob to help, he reaches for the knife kept in his back pocket.

Chad spins to face Eddie, his hair sweaty and face ballooning out from Eddie’s rings. “You should have left my girl alone Munson, would have saved your uncle the heartache.”

Eddie flicks the blade open on the knife, grip tight around it, he breathes through his nose his throat tight and stretching around his words, his leather jacket creaking when he moves his neck around in a stretch, confident in his delivery, “she’s not yours.”

The hysterical laugh that leaves Chad’s lungs could resemble bats screeching in the night, he’d make a great clown in a haunted house.

“Dead or alive whether I’m married or not— she’ll always be mine.”

Like alley cats, they stare each other down, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

Chad licks his lips and looks your way again, “listen, I get it, she’s hot. And that tight little pussy..” he licks his lips and grabs himself over his denim jeans, stained with your blood.

Eddie’s blood is boiling, he’s seconds away from snapping but trying to hold it together long enough to make a perfect attack.

Chad leans forward, gesturing a mockery secret with his hand held around his mouth, “It’s even better when she’s fighting you,” he inhales deep, like he’s wishing he was in a past memory, “screaming really tightens her right up.”

Knife out, Eddie charges forward. And is struck dumb when the knife is kicked from his hand. Another kick this time to the chest that he wasn’t expecting sends him stumbling into the living room, air gone from his lungs. Chad follows and swings into his diaphragm making Eddie choke out on nothing, gasping for air.

“Oh come on, Munson,” Chad taunted, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “Thought you would have some trailer park moves to throw at me.”

Raising a heavy boot, Eddie stomps on Chad’s toes, and mule kicks his kneecaps. A ringed fist meets his cheek, adding another forming bruise to his winter tan skin. Shoving him backwards into the counter in the kitchen, the cabinet doors bust on the impact.

The punches Eddie is landing have his knuckles bloody and swelling but he doesn’t care. Each punch is a testament for the years you held yourself together, acted like nothing bad was going on, when in reality you were experiencing hell on Earth and he never knew.

This was his payback. His way of righting a wrong. A wrong that should have never even began.

He doesn’t know what he was hit with just that he was stumbling backwards again. Temple throbbing and without reaching up he knows he’s bleeding. His back hitting the corner of the fridge he slides down onto the linoleum.

His head is heavy and his vision blinded with hazy clouds of black and white. He hears Chad but doesn’t see him, just feels his head being slammed in the fridge and a grip in his hair.

“Could have saved your uncle funeral costs you stupid bastard… clearly you don’t care about him, or Tooty for that matter, leaving her all alone like that,” Chad sucks through his teeth, splitting blood onto Eddie’s shirt, “thought the raccoons usually stuck together.”

He chuckles low and slams Eddie’s head one more time with such force it leaves a dent in the fridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says, straightening his shirt, walking towards your room , “my girl is waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Eddie roars, pushing himself up to stand with all his might. Pounding head and nausea thick in his mouth. Raising his head he looks at Chad with blurry sight, trying to see clearly. His voice is low, catching his breath and taking all of his strength to utter out the words. Balancing around the mark of deranged, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Chad swivels on his heels, head cocked at Eddie, he grabs under his chin holding it firmly in place. His breath fanning over Eddie’s cheeks and he smiles maniacally, blood painting his teeth.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” A heavy fist to the gut has Eddie doubled over. Gripping the counter with white knuckles and wet blood smeared fingertips.

He had failed again. He wasn’t able to stop his own father from killing his mother. And now Chad was on his way to desecrate your lifeless body. He’s a fuck up and a failure.

Always.

A low guttural choking sound breeches Eddie’s ears. And he turns to see you covered in your own blood, barely standing and wielding a bat with nails protruding from every which way.

The nails are claret colored and dripping thick drops onto the carpet, fibers of Chad’s jeans hang in shreds from the sharp edges. A scant look towards Eddie and your eyes swim with relief and mourning.

He’s here. Blood is smeared down his lips and his hands look tight and swollen.

But he’s alive. And so are you.

Eddie’s vision is doubled and he blinks rapidly unaware if he is seeing you or not. He swallows hard and almost chokes on tears.

But that is short lived.

And it happens fast.

The yelling rage from Chad’s lungs over power your screams. His hands are tight around your throat before you can blink, your spine snapping into the nearest wall, feet dangling off the ground.

Haziness bleeds into your eyes and your breath is expelled from screaming— now gone when your windpipe is crushing like a pixie stick under Chad’s grip.

Desperate to fight back you jam your thumbs into his eyes. Victor Creel style like the Urban Legends passed down that you were told as kids.

If you were going to die, at least he would be blind, a forever reminder of this day etched, literally, into his face.

You prayed Eddie would know how much you loved him.

Should have’s taking over the last puffs of oxygen in your brain, popping like bubbles.

Should have told him sooner.

Should have said it every day.

Should have kissed him more.

Should have let him love you.

The guilt wraps around your mind as the cold hands of death welcome you. But you’re not afraid. Knowing Chad always kept good on his word, Eddie would join you in the afterlife.

Hand in hand.

Strolling along the pinked cotton candy clouds and the pearly gates.

You are his and he is yours.

Lovers together finally at last.

The last breath on your lips is a silent devotion to him.

I love you, Eddie.

a/n: my asks are always open ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson angst #stranger things

626 notes · View notes

sensei-venus · 4 months

Text

@gemini-sensei

This is just random and I don’t think I will keep it as a main going idea, but what if Robby ends up shearing a birthday with his tiny little daughter?

Maybe everyone is so excited about Robby’s birthday, mainly Reader who is so excited to be throwing him a party. Technically it’s not only just his normal birthday but also his last “I’m not a dad” birthday. Their daughter is due in a little less than a month. She’s so excited to be throwing him a birthday party because she knows he never really had them as a kid.

She spends all day getting things set up for his party. She makes a cake, blows up a few balloons, orders a really nice gift that she knows he will love. Something he has been eyeing for a while now but never bought.

Though out the day she is so busy that she just brushes off the occasional pains that come up. Every once in a while a pain goes up her belly and back but it’s nothing to worrying about. Their baby tends to move a lot now so it’s not a surprise that she’s might be stepping on a sensitive area like she sometimes does. She just waits and lets the pain pass before going back to what she was doing.

At the end of the day she makes a delicious dinner she knows Robby will love. She makes all of his favorites. Setting everything up on the kitchen table before he gets home. She makes it all nice for him.

She stands in the kitchen with his birthday cake in her hands, a simple “Happy Birthday Robby!” Written on top in pretty cursive. A smile rolling onto her lips as she hears a car pull into the driveway. She’s so giddy, giggles spill out as she waits.

The door handle tunes to the front door and Robby walks in with wide eyes.

“Happy birthday Robby!” Reader yells while holding up the cake. Robby is in shock but a grin plasters on his face. Seeing his pretty little wife all dolled up, carrying his baby, smile on her face and a birthday cake in her hands. It all so much just for him. He walks over to her with a grin and the pretty little laugh she makes has him cooing on the inside.

But before he can get a few steps in front of her, a very loud splash is heard. It echos around the room making both of them look around. It isn’t until Reader feels her feet getting wet that she lets out a small gasp. This makes Robby look at her with question. She takes a step back and sets the cake on the table.

She slowly holds her belly, cradling it. Looking at the floor and then Robby she gives a half hearted smile.

“Well um maybe happy birthday to you and your daughter? Looks like someone couldn’t wait another two weeks to meet you.” Her voice is telling that this was definitely not something she wanted to be happening.

Robby is quick to realize the puddle and slowly dripping fluid on the floor is actually Reader’s water breaking.

He try’s to avoid the small mess of fluid and hugs his wife as gently as he can. He chuckles a little trying to get her a bit more relaxed.

“Hey it’s okay, you and her are just giving me an extra special present this birthday, aren’t you?” Reader laughs a little into his shoulder while they hug.

Robby was right when he said this birthday present was special.

102 notes · View notes

thatdayindecember · 2 months

Text

Part 2, labor + delivery

It was time to get induced.

I got the balloon thing on Monday the 5th around 11. Around 1pm, we were home and I was already having contractions 5 min apart. Within a few hours, they were 3 min apart. And they were baddd. There was no position possible. I was in AGONY. Like, 9/10 pain. Called the hospital but since the balloon catheter hadn't fallen out, I just had to wait at home until my appointment the next morning.

Needless to say, didn't sleep all night. Contractions never stopped.

At 7am, we had to he back at the hospital. They checked me and, thank god, I was 3 cm dilated. They started me on meds to speed it up. The pain got even worse. After a few hours, they finally decided to break my waters. And the pain got worse again. Around 1, after 24 hours of crazy contractions, I was only at 4/5cm and I couldn't take it anymore so asked for epidural

I got it around 2.30pm. And I didn't feel anything anymore. It was great lol. Then my blood pressure dropped a lot. And everyone started to panic, bc baby's heartrate was also dropping. Luckily they somehow fixed it real fast.

I didn't feel any contractions anymore so i was even able to sleep a little bit. Around 4.30, I woke up bc I was feeling contractions again. Everyone thought I'd just didn't push the epidural button in time so we waited for it to kick in again.

But it didn't. The pain continued to get worse. Finally, at 6pm, they decided to check me again. To everyone's shock, I was fully dilated.

Baby was still up a little high though, so they told me to lightly push on every contractions to see if baby would come down. Around 7.15 they came back. Baby hadn't moved. I was starting to panic, bc I hadn't gotten more epidural anymore so I could feel the pushing better, which meant I was in A LOT of pain. So the midwife decided it was time to just start active pushing and see what would happen

Well, what happened was I PANICKED even more lol. It was so scary and painful and I truly thought I wouldn't be able to do it. With every push, 4x per contraction, contractions basically back to back, I thought I would pass out or throw up. It was insanely painful. I kept saying I couldn't do it. But after a while, suddenly everyone got excited bc they could see baby's head! That helped me feel more confident so I somehow managed to find more power and pushed harder.

But then the midwife and nurse got stressed. They told me to stop pushing bc baby wasn't doing well anymore. I wasn't allowed to push for the next contraction. Let me telllll you, that was a nightmare. Pushing hurt like hell, but NOT pushing was even worse. Luckily after not pushing for one contraction, baby's heartratw was normal again so I could continue.

It wasn't long before I felt the infamous ring of fire and I had to slow down so I wouldn't tear open completely lol. Slowly but surely, I could feel baby coming out. It hurt like a mf. It felt like an eternity. I was so exhausted. But I had to keep going. And then the midwife said the next contraction would be my final pushes and then he would be out

And he did. I pushed and I felt him come out. A little after 8pm on feb 6th, my baby was born <3. Within seconds he was on my chest and after a few more seconds, my little perfect baby boy was crying.

I'll never say I instantly forgot the pain (everyone who says that is either a superhero or lying) but it was all worth it.

Unfortunately I did tear a little but, but luckily not that much. The stitching was horrible though. The tried to numb me but needles down there is noooo fun lol. And it didn't really work everywhere either. So half of the stitches I felt being done. And it took ages.

We stayed in the hospital for one night to monitor baby since I had taken benzos a few times in the last weeks. He was doing great though, and I was OK too, so around 11 the next morning, we got discharged and could go home

#savs stories #savs birth story

7 notes · View notes

comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

A Triwizard Baby Part 4 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 4 of my ‘Triwizard Baby’ mini-series, please read Parts 1, 2, and 3 if you haven’t already. Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention vomiting, and food/eating.

"Girls" you sighed, watching them finally stop jumping on their beds and dropping their pillows "There's something I need to tell you."

You and Angelina shared a glance, she knew and so did you - you were finally ready, to tell the truth. Hiding this - hiding the truth about you and Fred had caused you enough pain, and the longer you decided to hide this, the worse the pain would get.

"What is it?" Katie asked, already concerned, no longer giggly or excitable.

Staring and picking at your fingernails, you finally looked each of your friends in the eyes, your heart thumping in your chest with each breath.

"I'm ready to tell you" you sighed again "who the father is."

They all stayed silent except Matt's little sister, "who is it?" she asked quietly.

"Fred," you blurted out, unable to hide his name for much longer "Fred Weasley is the father."

"I've told you" Fred hissed "don't bloody speak to me!" he stormed in front of George, stamping his feet, furious his backstabbing brother would dare to even speak to him.

Fred was exhausted from sleeping in the room of requirement alone and no one to talk to, he was pissed off with his brother, frustrated that you weren't his and that everyone around him avoided him as if he had a curse. For the first time in his life, he left as if he had run out of luck.

George grabbed him by the arm "Freddie, please-"

"No!" Fred shoved George's grip off him "You're jealous, you always have been."

George opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't get a word in.

"You always have been, every girl I've been with, you've chased after when I'm done with them. You can't stand the fact I fucked her, and you've rubbed it in my face that you've knocked her up!" Fred's voice cracked "And I told you, I loved her!"

"Fred, I-"

"Do me a favour, Georgie, don't speak a word to me at the baby shower, unless you want a crib smashed against your stupid head!"

"Keep those eyes closed!" Angelina grinned, her hands covering your eyes as she walked you through the rented restaurant covered in banners, balloons, a buffet table and presents.

"I am!" you smirked, feeling slightly nervous, smelling the mouth-watering fruit juices and pies.

"Okay," Angelina smiled, removing her hands "open in three, two, one!"

Opening your eyes you looked across the huge room, your friends were all huddled together with party poppers, yelling "Surprise!" and pulling the string, confetti shooting across the room, Fred sat alone across the room, trying his hardest to show support and be happy for you, but his heartbreak was breaking through his persona better than he thought.

You were bombarded with presents for you and the baby: the new crib, clothes, socks, bottles, nappies, monitors, teddy bears, and blankets - you unwrapped everything which brought the biggest smile to your face and tears of happiness to your eyes.

Everyone made bets on whether you would have a girl or a boy, what time and day they would be born on, and how long the labour would be. Even you had to admit, you were having a good time and for the first time in a while, the smile on your face was genuine, not forced.

After hours of present opening, games, bets, and food, you and the girls cleaned up the confetti, empty plates and scrunched up wrapping paper. Fred slowly approached you and tapped you on the shoulder, turning around to look at him, your heart pained.

Tell him, everyone knows but him, just tell him!

"Freddie-"

"Y/N, can I have a moment?" he murmured.

The girls looked at the two of you standing in the middle of the room, they exchanged looks and nodded, leaving to give you both some privacy.

"I wanted to give this to you in private," Fred said softly, handing you a large faux dragon scale photo album "I ran out of time to wrap it, was up all night finishing it."

You stared down at the photo album and opened it, your heartbreaking with each turn of the page. Pictures of you and Fred throughout the years, followed by his little notes of when and where the picture was taken until you flicked to the empty pages, you stared up at him.

Tell him, now is a perfect time-

"Fred, please-"

"The blank pages are to fill with pictures of us and the baby," he said softly "that's if the father won't mind."

George entered the room again, not knowing his brother was still there.

"Y/N, I was thinking-" he stopped in his tracks, looking at his brother's face dropping.

"Congratulations, again." Fred walked away, pushing past his brother and out the door.

"They are Braxton Hicks, my dear." Madame Pomfrey waved her hand, helping you to your feet in the hospital wing.

Your hand rested on your bump "I'm sorry, what?"

After your little moment with Fred, your womb contracted and relaxed, disturbing your baby, causing it to lash out and kick against your tummy in discomfort from the contractions. You were frightened and sure you were going into labour and George rushed you to the hospital wing.

"Is she going to be okay?" George asked nervously.

"False labour pains" she replied "and if you go to the tournament tonight you'll be experiencing more of them!" she stressed.

"I can assure you I won't be doing backflips," you grumbled, "surely it will be safer for me if I sit down."

Madame Pomfrey held her nose up in the air, feeling slightly defeated "I can't stop you from going, but as long as you're sitting down and surrounded by a responsible group of friends, I don't see why you can't go."

"I'll take good care of her, I swear."

"Your brother couldn't!" Madame Pomfrey hissed "she's in this mess because of him, and I better not see you two back in here until that baby is ready!"

The loud band played along as everyone got seated high up in the stands, the girls on your left, and George on your right, you held onto his hand, still on edge from the sudden Braxton Hicks. You rested your head against his shoulder, Fred stared at the back of your head, his hands bunched into fists, regretting his decision to sit towards the back.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, Fleur had failed, Krum evidently had too - now - it was between Cedric and Harry, the champion being a Hogwarts student was certain, but still, undecided whether that champion would belong to Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, like many others in the stands, your fingers and toes were crossed for Harry taking the win.

Out of nowhere, Cedric came stumbling out of the maze, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, his shirt sticking to him and his hair ruffled, scratches across his delicate face. He crouched down, clearly out of breath, but so startled and shaken up that he was shaking and green in the face.

The crowd jumped to their feet, cheering for Harry and Gryffindor, holding their red banners and waving their flags in the air whilst Syltherin scowled and hid their faces in their hands.

"We need to go and see if he's alright!" Angelina panicked hearing Cho shriek, the girls got on their feet and hurried down the stairs, running out to Cedric who was now on his hands and knees on the grass, throwing up.

"Well, are you coming!?" Angelina asked George, holding out her hand.

George looked at you, he didn't want to leave you on your own and you knew it.

"Go," you reassured him "I'll be okay."

You watched Cedric gain the courage to speak, you tried to lip read but he was too far away for you to even make out a single word, but whatever he had said panicked the cheering girls and proud lads because now they were muttering, whispering and all appeared to be frightened and anxious, no longer in the mood to celebrate Harry's win.

Katie who didn't leave you behind shot a scowl at Fred who continued to stare at you, she moved closer to you whilst Angelina and George hurried back, horror across their faces.

"What's happened?" you panicked.

"It's Harry" George frowned "The cup, it was a portkey and he's gone, Cedric said-"

Angelina nudged George with her elbow, glaring at him and shaking her head "not now, George."

"No, what is it?" you demanded.

Just as George announced the news that the dark lord had returned, you felt major discomfort and a dull ache in your back and lower abdomen, along with the pressure that increased in your pelvic, you gripped onto your bump and winced.

"George!" you panicked "It's happening!"

The father of your baby watched as you went into labour, Katie and Angelina helped you to your feet as George hurried over to Madame Pomfrey, everyone around you started to panic and gave you all the room you needed to evacuate safely back into the hospital wing - the one place you didn't want to end up twice in one day.

Leaving you behind, George stared up at Fred who was sat as still as a statute, if you weren't going to tell him, George had to, he wouldn't allow his brother to miss the birth of his child.

George stumbled over to his brother and shook him angrily "I don't want to bloody argue but listen to me!"

"George, I told you-"

"You're the dad, alright!" George yelled, "She's having your baby, you need to get to the hospital wing now!"

"What are you on about?" Fred argued, not believing the word "are you seriously-"

"Think back to the party when you played truth or dare! Think for Merlin's sake!"

Fred shut his mouth and suddenly, his world began to spin so fast his heart could've stopped.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

The memories suddenly flashed before his eyes, the sight of your naked body beneath his, the two of you climaxing, Fred pulling out and falling into your arms, only to wake up the next morning in an empty bed that smelled of your hair and perfume. It reminded Fred that he had forgotten to put a condom on, George wasn't lying, he is the father of your child.

Fred's eye widened and he bolted from his brother, shoving everyone aside and sprinting for his life to the hospital wing, no one and nothing could stop him now.

The doors of the hospital wing swung open, laying in your bed, tears rolled down your face as the contractions worsened, Madame Pomfrey urging you to keep pushing. Fred pulls out a chair and sits beside you, holding your hand, comforting you, kissing your forehead and encouraging you.

You opened your mouth to speak: you wanted to say sorry, to tell him you loved him, you wanted to explain everything all at once, but you were unable to - the pain increasing, causing you to scream out, tears rolling down your face.

"Almost there Y/N, you're crowning!" Madame Pomfrey announced.

Fred planted another kiss on your sweaty forehead "keep pushing sweetheart," he said softly "you're doing so bloody well!"

Within a few moments, the sound of your babies cries rang out through the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey placed the baby in your arms, encouraging you to sit back and relax - but you couldn't you still had the urge to push.

"I need to push again, "you cried, gritting your teeth "I'm not done!"

Madame Pomfrey's mouth dropped, causing her to take the baby from your arms and handing the newborn to Fred.

"What's going on?" Fred panicked, gripping onto his child, already feeling the protectiveness kick in.

"There's another baby..."

"She's having twins?!"

Fred held the elder newborn in his arms whilst the younger and smaller newborn rested in yours, both of them just like their father; a full head of ginger hair.

"They're yours." you croaked, your. throat sore from all the screaming and crying.

Fred smiled, tears forming in his eyes as he rocked the baby in his arms "I know, they look just like me... their hairs..."

"I'm so sorry, Freddie, I didn't tell you because... because I didn't know what to do, you're my best friend and I've had feelings for you since the beginning and I felt as if you didn't feel the same, I thought that me forcing a child upon you would... would ruin what we had."

"Of course I feel the same," Fred replied "I just didn't know if you did."

The two of you went silent for a moment, the twins sleeping - they were exhausted from being brought into the world earlier than expected.

"Do you still feel the same?" you asked Fred, staring into his pride-filled brown eyes.

He nodded "Yeah, do you?"

Everything you had ever wanted finally arrived, the children you were carrying - so eager and excited to meet, and the man of your dreams, finally on the same page as you - who had been in love with you for all this time.

You looked down at the baby in your arms and then back up at Fred, "I do too."

"Shall we have a fresh start?" Fred smiled "As parents and that."

You broke out into a light laugh and smiled "I'd like that, Freddie. I'd like that a lot."

There was another silence, it felt as if the world was sleeping.

"So, when can we make another one?" Fred winked.

"When we graduate from Hogwarts!-"

"Next year?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't let me finish! We need to graduate, get stable jobs and have a house with enough room!"

"So next year then?" Fred smirked, still cradling the baby.

Your furrowed your brows, unsure whether or not he was bluffing.

"Okay then, since you're all confident, let's make a bet." You smirked back.

"If I win, we make another baby, if you win... we get married," Fred said softly as the baby opened his eyes and let out a cry.

"Alright," you agreed, taking your baby from Fred, trying to breastfeed "but what is your obsession with making another one?" you asked, "we've just had twins!"

Mr and Mrs Weasley were slowly approaching the hospital wing, George following not far behind.

"Yeah, which I've only just found out are mine!"

The hospital wing doors opened, Molly and Arthur standing in the doorway, staring at you, their son, and their grandchildren.

taglist: Taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl@reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @onlyfreds@pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx @manuosorioh@cosmiccomicloverqueen @the-romanian-is-bae @fhhsposts@cavalinhox @purple-vodka-99 @simpforweasleys2@dracoismybabey @statellitespidey @xuminghaosworld @michael-loves-chickens @simpforweasleys2 @freddie-weaselbee @itsnottlilly

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #harry potter #weasley twins #the marauders #Remus Lupin x reader #Sirius black x reader #draco x you #draco x reader

285 notes · View notes

sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Note

How do you think would skz be in a home party?🥰 love your writing~

OOOH this is fun heh LEZ GO THEM SKZ HOME PARTY HEADCANONS

also ah thank you <33 >//<

warnings; homeparty, alcohol consumption, puking other,,, drugs,,, mentions of sex under the influence, blowjobs.

Bangchan;

ah finally some good as stress relief

chan definitely has a secret party animal hidden inside of him

he’s just so hot?!?!? like wearing ripped black jeans and those mf tanktops that show his entire ribcage from the side

~grinding~

but then he’s a total dork doing moves like the sprinkler HASHAHSAH

LOWKEY DAD MOVES

likes the really intense music, like he gets high off just music

all sweaty and UGHHDSKAJ SO HOT SO FUCKING HOT

attracts everyone at the party cause he’s just that hot

omg the arm wrestles

the more drunk he is, the more aussie he becomes

IMAGINE HIM JUST SPEAKING IN A THICK AUSSIE ACCENT WHEN HE’S DRUNK AS A FUCKING BOAT

likes beer,,,, or like straight up soju

from the bottle ahsahsa

Minho;

will 100% trick somebody into doing drugs

I KNOW THAT SOUNDS BAD BUT NOT LIKE ANYTHING REALLY HARDCORE

he’d say its candy or smth (i feel like the person that would fall victim to this is drunk jeongin ahsahsah)

~grinding pt2~

its them dancer hips 😔

he walks around this party like he owns the place (he probably does)

says the cockiest shit - “what’s up, babygirl” I FUCKING CANT-

i mean kudos to him, everybody wants to suck him off

drinking games that involve pain HASHAHAS

like slapping the person that loses the count in some sort of number game or smth

this has nothing to do with the games but just eats the ice in drinks

“it tastes yummy” and he’s like “IT ACTUALLY TASTES” you’re like wtf you stupid ass its frozen water

“oooooh,,,,”

becomes dumber as he gets drunk like,,, real dumb

will call his ex

Changbin;

i feel like he just zones out

and then starts dancing all of a sudden ahsahsha

complaining over the music

very quick in and out of emotions??

is the member that would most likely fight someone

also likes drinking a lot

and making out

just very wild,,, and then not HAHSAHS I-

his ego increases by like tenfolds when he’s around that many people

striking up conversations from left to right

most of his friends are people that he got to know at parties,,, or made out with

why does his voice get lower when he’s drunk??

also has a weird habit of undressing

NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY

he just starts feeling hot and doesnt even mind that there are people there

somebody fucking stop him-

Hyunjin;

the loudest mf you will ever meet

he’s screaming for no reason at all

he’s just too excited (and if jisung is there then fucking expect to not have eardrums after the party is over)

his camera roll is just drunk party photos

most of which are so blurry you can barely see what its supposed to be LMAO

also the mf that sings along to lyrics ITS LIKE CAN YOU STFU

before he gets too drunk he likes to make cocktails ahsahs

like mixing ice lollies with vodka

lowkey comes up with some new type of alcohol

total slut when he’s drunk

will let anyone fuck him

just does the sluttiest shit

licks everyone

moans in other peoples ears (a joke or not?? we shall never know)

just ugh,,, himbo material

Jisung;

BEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP FUCKBOY ALERT

no legit trying to hit up every girl and guy he sees

never goes home without sum pussy/dick

actually likes to drink?? surprisingly?? or maybe not really lmao

cannot control his limits

“i’ll just drink this and then im done”

30 minutes later homeboy is bent over the fucking toilet

also becomes the biggest baby

like after his hormones subside he just cuddles,,,

goes over to chan to ask him to hold him

and chan is like; BITCH IM TRYING TO RELAX SHO

i also feel like he cries a lot

just gets kinda,,,, empty??

like sure, it’s fun,,, but why was he here?? what is the purpose of his life??

and then he pukes again HASHSA IM-

also,,, bong rip HASHAS IM SORRY IM SO SORRY

Felix;

loves loves loves playing games

spin the motherfucking bottle (or 7 minutes in heaven)

its all fun and games until he’s the one that gets the bottle at him

very very veeeeery giggly and just laughing at everything

muzzing NO IM JOKING IM JOKING

makes a shit ton of pot brownies and then gets too high

doesnt even recognise where he is

just staring at a mirror and then bursting out in laughter

throws it back

like its tiktok dances to the max

loves the attention he gets in like dance battles and such

LIKE LOWKEY HIS FAVORITE THING EVER

because he always wins

GO FELIX GO FELIX GO FELIX

Seungmin;

responsible puppy

it doesnt mean that he’s boring, it just means that he doesnt want anyone in the ER

but eventually he’s drunk himself ahshash

he gets sleepy when drunk so the odds of finding him passed out in the bathroom is pretty large

when he dances he does like a little two step AHSHAHA PLEASE ITS SO ADORABLE-

he becomes like kinda awkward ahshash and its like what are you doing over in the corner??

munches all the snacks

accidentally eats felix’s pot brownies

UH OH.... he might be the one in the ER if im being frank

he thinks he’s about to pass out HSHAHSA

will beat the shit out of felix the next day for putting the pot brownies next to the real brownies

doesnt like the taste of beer

Jeongin;

i have a feeling he would go a bit too hard

because he’s never really partied before and so he wants to try EVERYTHING

gets a bit too drunk OOPS-

but he’s very cute when he’s drunk so the others dont really mind

he’s like rubbing up on the others and giggling a lot with his face all flushed

would be a bit too shaky from all the substances he’s been putting into his body THAT SOUNDS REALLY BAD UH,,, I MEAN LIKE,, sugar and shit like that

he hates the taste of alcohol but pretends to like it so he fits in aASHSHA POOR BABYYYY

easily pressured into things

might actually get his first fuck while drunk just saying,,,,

everything becomes like x1000 times more interesting

balloons on the walls? i wonder what happens if i try to bite it

PROTECC

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #anon #Cherrymail🍒

172 notes · View notes

kvmberly · 3 years

Text

if i can’t have you.

20 day song imagines masterlist | main masterlist

pairing: bucky barnes x 40’s!reader

pronouns: she/her

genre: angst, some fluff

warning: one curse word and mentions of death.

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: bucky spends years tracking down a necklace from a past lover that he just can't stop thinking about but ended up finding something even better.

this means flashbacks

The first time Bucky remembered y/n was after his first fight with Steve, Sam, and Natasha. He was so confused that Steve knew him and all the memories from his past life were slowly flowing back.

"James! Don't throw that at me!" y/n laughed running from him.

they were having a water-balloon fight. It was a sunny afternoon in Brooklyn and they were quick to take advantage of the sunny weather.

"Doll i'm not going to throw it. Just come over here it'll be okay." Bucky bit his lip in anticipation.

Y/n slowly stepped towards Bucky but ran once she heard someone cough in the bush next to her.

"Dammit Steve!"

"I'm sorry I was trying to hold it in." Steve laughed.

Y/n. Who was y/n? And who was this Steve guy? Bucky's context clues led him to believe that y/n might've been a lover of his, hence the pet name "doll."

Bucky didn't have much time until he was back at the Hydra building so he quickly picked up random litter from the street and sought out to find a pen. Once he found it, he wrote the name y/n on it.

Once he arrived to the front building of Hydra he tucked the paper away from anyones view to come back for it.

He was back from his mission and hydra knew right away that something wasn't right. They wiped is memory and everything he remembered was gone. Kind of.

The next couple of weeks Bucky had remembered nothing of his past life, including where he hid the paper, and was doing missions for his "boss." This time, he just so happened to find Steve, again.

Combinations of Steve repeatedly calling The Winter Soldiers name, Bucky, and just seeing him caused him to pause. A memory was coming back to him. He tried to fight it, even after focusing on Steve and what his leaders told him to do. But even after saving Steve, he couldn't fight off the feelings he was getting from being near the super soldier.

"James. Please be careful." Y/n cried into his neck.

She just got the news that he's going on a mission with Steve. She always feared what would happen when he joined the military. She already had faced almost losing him to the nazi's. What if something even worse happens?

"Doll. You know I will." he replied, pulling back to look at her teary eyed face.

"Still, things happen." she shrugged.

Bucky stood up from the bed getting his thing's together. He knew it was dangerous, but he had to do it. She knew that.

"Wait James." Y/n called as he was about to leave, "Take this." She handed him a necklace.

Bucky looked at the silver necklace, examining the picture of her on it, "What's this for?"

"So you don't forget me." She sniffed.

"You keep it here with you." He said softly.

"Why?"

So you can give it to me when I come back." He kissed her lips, leaving her with the last I love you she'll ever hear from him.

Bucky jolted awake from his sleep wiping his eyes and got up from his metal bed. Bucky suddenly started to question hydra like he hasn't before. He began to question who he even was.

He needed to find that necklace. But where could it be? Did she even keep it?

Over the course of two years, Bucky finally started to get his memory back. He was united with Steve in weird circumstances but he was just glad to have his best friend next to him. Even though he had his memory, he still hadn't found the necklace. He spent two years looking everywhere for it and never even got a hit on it until a couple nights ago. He kept having flashbacks to a specific place.

"You sure know how to make a girl love huh?" Y/n asked, arms around Bucky's neck.

"Maybe." He mumbled then softly placed his lips on her's.

They were at the y/n's favorite bar dancing to a song that came on in the jukebox. Paper Doll.

Bucky quickly learned that song is the reason he called his beloved y/n doll.

"What you thinking in the pretty head of yours?" Bucky questioned.

Y/n sighed, "Just about how amazing you are."

"You want to go to the bar. Don't you?"

"Yes!" She yelled as she shot up from the bed to get ready.

The bar. But what was it called?

Bucky had a long day. All he wanted to do was cuddle up with y/n but when he entered there shared apartment, she wasn't there. She was always there, especially at this time of the night.

He didn't want to panic though. He knew she had to be somewhere so he looked around the building then proceeded to drive to her family owned bar. Y/L/N

He quickly drove to the bar, opening the door to it, seeing y/n. "Doll." Bucky called.

"Hi James." Y/n greeted.

"Why aren't you at home?"

"I just wanted to be out." Y/n answered truthfully.

Bucky nodded sitting next to her ordering a drink. She always made his day better.

Finally! He had a name to the bar, but where was it?

Bucky decided to ask Steve. Surely y/n and Steve were in contact after his "passing." Maybe he knows about the necklace.

"Hey Steve. You remember y/n?" Bucky asked

"Of course I do Buck. You thinking about her."

"Yeah I um- I remember she had a family bar it was named-"

"Y/L/N" Steve interrupted.

"You remember it?" Bucky's eyes lit up.

Steve nodded smiling, happy his friend was remembering something important.

"Can you maybe tell me where it's at?"

"You looking for the necklace?" Steve asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Bucky said yes then followed Steve all the way down the street. A big sign reading, "Y/L/N" was hanging overhead. "Here you are."

How did he miss this?

Bucky thanked Steve with a handshake and walked his way into the bar. It looked the same, only more modern. The jukebox was still there but the interior was more relaxed and comfortable.

The bell rang as he entered causing people to look at him. Most reverted their attention back to there food as he walked to the ordering counter, but a a lady in the back kitchen, who couldn't be older than 30, continued to stare at him.

"You here for food or drinks?" The person at the ordering counter asked.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but one of the people from the back intervened. "Tilla come back here for a second."

Tilla, the person at the counter, went to the back and talked to the lady who called them. Tilla's eyes widened then turned their head looked at Bucky.

What is going on?

The lady from the kitchen came up to the counter, "You James Barnes?" She asked.

"How'd you know?" He questioned.

"I'm Nichole, y/n's niece." She reached her hand out to greet him.

He accepted the handshake but was still confused. How did she know what he looked like. Surely y/n couldn't have told her?

"I'm guessing you're looking for y/n?"

"Well-"

"You're two years late." She told him, "She passed away."

Bucky's whole body froze.

Nichole looked up at him, seeing his state. "Let me take you to lunch. I'll tell you everything." She grabbed her bag and led him somewhere to eat.

"Did she- did she ever talk about me?" Bucky asked nervously. He just wanted to know. Not wanted, needed to know.

"All the time."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Yeah. She used to play that paper doll song all the time!" She laughed, "I remember just begging her to stop showing pictures of you but I guess it helped me figure out who you are."

"How'd you know I was alive?"

"Steve told me."

Huh? Steve knew y/n had family so close and never told him? But then Bucky remembered, he knew about the necklace. He knew about the bar. Why did he never tell him?

"He wanted you to remember it."

Bucky was snapped from his thoughts, "What?"

"Steve. He wanted you to remember her not because he told you, but because you genuinely remembered." Nichole reached into her bag, grabbing a crumbly envelope.

"Here." She handed him the paper. "Her death wish was for you to read this note. She wrote it for you but knew Steve was alive and made me promise to give it to him. But since you're alive and breathing, I'm giving it to you."

Bucky softly grabbed the envelope from the young girls hand, opening it.

Y/n was so hurt. So hurt from the news of Bucky's passing. She couldn't move on so she decided to make a letter. A letter that she only could hope that would be opened by Bucky.

Dear my beloved James,

I am writing this letter in hopes of you coming back home one day. Everyone says you have passed. They tell me to move on but I can not. I can not move on from you. You are the man I dream about in the night time. Steve says he did everything he could. I believe him. I truly miss you. You are the love of my life and if I could just hear you call me doll one more time, I would finally be at rest. I remember us talking about baby names. I remember all the times you came to my work just to tell me a new name you came up with. Sadly I will not have any babies. I refuse to even lay with another person. I refuse. I hope to one day have a niece. Maybe I can convince my family to name them Nichole or Harvey. If only. I miss you. Everything in my life seems sore without your touch. Everything means nothing without you. Everything means nothing if I can't have you.

your doll, y/n.

She sealed it in a pink envelope and tucked it away.

ps, i slipped the picture of me in your pocket.

idk why but I started tearing up at the end lol. i can just imagine the pain people feel when there s/o passes away :/

- kimberly

#bucky fanfic #buck barnes #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine

123 notes · View notes

x-woozi · 3 years

Text

An Unwise Interest

Part 10

Previous || M. List || Next

Summary: Of course you love your brother but he can be a bit overly concerned and involved in your personal life. Things only get worse when you find yourself having a little more than “friendly” feelings for one of his best friends.

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long to post life’s been a bit much lately but it’s here now! Ta-da! Love interest revealed, and surprise surprise it’s Jihoon. Im sure you saw it coming but I hope you still enjoy!

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

Balloons are great and all but the set up and cleaning up is a pain, especially for what you have planned. Luckily you’ll only have to worry about one of those.

Deciding to not be completely mean you planned to fill the majority of the balloons with the confetti first and only a few with glitter. You set everything out side by side on Seungcheols bedroom floor. “Okay I’ve got the balloons and confetti but where did I put- Ah the glitter!” You said aloud to yourself with an evil-like grin as you imagine the look on your brother's face when he gets home.

Rather than waiting for Jihoon to get back, you started without him knowing he’d be against taking any part in it and would have to do some convincing. You tried your best to funnel the tiny pieces of paper into as many balloons as you could before inflating them.

Once it was time to blow them up you realize where you went wrong. There’s no pump, no helium tank, nothing. You thought to yourself, this is that stupid pre-prank karma isn’t it. All you could do now was pray your lungs make it through.

10 balloons in and there are many regrets going through your mind. Tying the ends is starting to hurt your fingers, bring rubber bands or ribbon next time. Starting to feel a little lightheaded having to blow them up. Gotta remember to get a pump for these things! Some of the confetti keeps slipping out and getting in your mouth. Why does this feel so dan-

There was a loud thud that came from the other room interrupting your thoughts and making you inhale sharply with a balloon still at your lips. Going hand in hand with your last thought the timing was great because now you’re choking and there’s an intruder. Trying your best not to completely panic when you hear footsteps rushing towards you loudly coughing, you look around the room and realize you have nothing to defend yourself with. what a great way to go.

“Are you okay?!?!” Jihoon yelled as he barged into the room, “what happened!”

If you could this is where you would’ve let out a sigh of relief, but no, still choking on paper.

He practically leapt to your side and aggressively patted your back trying to help, which it did a little. When you caught your breath you quickly faced him, “what the hell, who just comes home and immediately starts slamming doors and shit?? I could have died because of you!”

“Are you being serious?” Jihoon stared at you in disbelief, “first off you’re in my home”

“It’s also my brothers.” You stated as a weak argument against him

“Still not yours. And second that wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t doing all of this” he motioned to the mess you’ve made on the floor. “So who’s really at fault here?”

“wow just blame the victim I guess” You folded your arms “I never took you for that type, I’m disappointed Ji”

His jaw dropped, “the v- you?? You're joking right? You’re the victim?” Scoffing at your claim “right and I’m in the nba”

A small laugh fell from your lips before you could catch it, you cleared your throat to hide it “anyways, were you going to help me with this or not?”

“Would I have brought these if I wasn’t?” He held up two plastic balloon pumps “I had a feeling you didn’t have one, and of course. I was right”

You rolled your eyes “yeah alright well let’s get to pumping, I’m tired of almost dying doing it the old fashioned way.”

Sitting on the floor across from you and grabbed a balloon to start with, “no one told you to take it this far, so that's on you” he shrugged

He wasn’t wrong, you were the one that wanted to do all this but it was going to be worth it in the end. At least you hoped it would be. Of course seeing his initial reaction to seeing it all would be fantastic but after that there's no telling what he’ll do.

As you both sat there with balloons starting to pile around you, you started to think about what your real plans for after college were. “Hey Ji, can I ask you a question?”

“Was that not it?” You squint your eyes back at him and he sighed, “go ahead”

“How did you know to decide on being a music major? Like I know you’re really good at all of it but how do you know that’s what you want to do forever?”

He kept his eyes on the balloon in his hand “Because it’s my outlet, my contribution to the world. It doesn’t reach many people as of right now but for those that it does reach it makes them feel something that only music can. Music is like the medicine everyone needs at some point. It makes me feel good to help people in that way and I want to be able to reach and help as many people as possible.” You had watched the way his smile grew as he spoke about his passion but quickly fell as a pink showed over his cheeks when he looked back up to see you watching his expressions.

There was a sudden pop and with that rubber and confetti was everywhere. You jumped slightly at the noise, “oh no!” You giggled “well that’s one less for him to worry about later”

“At least it wasn’t one with glitter in it” he added while dusting the pieces off of his shirt.

“Very true, that stuff never comes off” you agreed “hang on you got some in your hair”

You leaned over to pick off the few pieces that made it up there before realizing he was reaching to get those same pieces. Though instead of the paper it was your hand he grabbed.

(Que the cheesy kdrama music: Duu dudu duu dudu duu)

Your face immediately burned red as you felt a small panic rush over you. “Sorry I just-“ You laughed lightly as you pulled your hand back, “you know what, I could use a snack break” you stood up and raced to the kitchen. Oh god why am I like this? It wasn't even bad! You thought to yourself pretending to look through the cabinets. Did I make it more awkward running in here like that? Shit.

In an attempt to make it better you decided to make both of you a pb&j, but also as a thank you for helping you finish even if there wasn’t much to do. “Grape or strawberry?” You yelled with your head basically still in the fridge. There was no answer “Ji!”

“Strawberry” his response surprised you with him being much closer than you thought. He had joined you in the kitchen and was grabbing the bread from the counter behind you.

“How did you know what I was going to make?” He looked at you with a straight face. You rolled your eyes and took the bread from his hands. “Maybe I was going to use crackers, make mini pb&js.” You finished up and set them on plates at the table across from each other.

He followed behind you, sliding a glass of water to you before taking his seat. It was silent as you both sat there eating before Jihoon spoke up, “so I’m going to guess that you’re still struggling to pick your major.”

“Says who?”

“Not even 10 minutes ago you were asking how I picked mine.” He pointed out as he picked up his sandwich.

“Well what if I just wanted to get to know you better, make small talk you know?” Trying to defend yourself.

“Okay so then what did you decide on?” He questioned.

“I haven’t.” You responded sounding defeated “what if I do pick and then change my mind then I would have wasted so much time and money for nothing”

He rolled his eyes, taking another bite. “Just don’t think of it like that, think of it as broadening your horizons, explore your options. What do you enjoy doing?”

“Being with my friends? I don’t know”

“Fine, what are you good at?” He waited for an answer as you just stared back with a blank face. “Seriously? How about a planner like for parties and stuff?”

“Me? Plan things? I can’t do that” you laughed at the thought of it.

Completely at a loss for words he gets up and motions for you to follow. You do while bringing what’s left of your sandwich. He led you straight back to your brother's doorway and stood with his arms crossed. “Did you not plan this?”

“This is different. It’s a prank, not a party” you tried explaining, “this is something simple. But we should hurry and finish because he should be home soon.”

He rolled his eyes at you trying to change the subject, “yeah alright but at least think about it. It doesn’t hurt to explore all your options.” he sat on the floor and picked up another balloon. “Especially when you have no idea what you’re doing with your life.”

You scoffed and tossed a handful of deflated balloons at him “I’m sorry, is that judgement I hear?” he looked up at you with raised brows. “At least I’m trying to have fun and enjoy my life instead of staying locked away in my room.”

“I do not stay locked in my room.” He tried defending himself

“Oh my bad, locked away in the studio.” you correct yourself.

He then threw some balloons your way, “I go out and do things. I can have fun and enjoy life”

You took that as a challenge and picked up some confetti and held it in your fist, “you sure about that?”

“Y/n, what are you doing?” he put a hand up as a barrier questioning you.

“What? Are you scared?” you pulled your arm back preparing for launch.

“I just can't tell what you're throwing at me.”

“Let's find out then” as soon as you threw the paper he reached for the glitter and was ready to throw some back. “Wait wait!” you tried reaching to stop him but it was too late, it was everywhere. He was bent over with laughter as you sat there covered in glitter glaring at him. You picked up another container and sprinkled it over him, letting it fall everywhere.

His laughing slowed as he froze when he saw sparkles coming from him. He let out a short laugh before quickly grabbing your arm to keep you from dropping anymore on him. “Really?” Your first thought was to grab it with your other hand, but as you did that he caught you with a smirk

You tried pulling away but with his grip it only forced you to scoot closer to him. There was now a warmth growing on your face as you stared back at him trying to think of your next move to get out.

The smirk still on his face “now what? Are you done?”

Something dropped at the doorway forcing you to both turn to see your brother standing with his bags at his feet “what the hell is going on in here!!”

Suddenly your hands we’re free and you rushed to your feet. “Wait cheol-“

“Out of all the people and all the places! You two?! IN MY ROOM?!!!” He started towards Jihoon.

Moving yourself between them “wait wait it’s not what it looks like I swear!!”

Jihoon was up and backing away slowly “you know me.. we friends.. roomies.. just take a breath”

“Y/n go home I’ll talk to you later. You.” He point at Ji “we need to talk now.”

You grabbed your bag and basically ran out the door. it’s fine it’ll be fine I’ll check on them later. After I’m far away and he’s cooled off.

Obviously you felt bad for leaving the situation like that but what else could you do? Seungcheol was a little scary when he’s mad.

30 notes · View notes

berriusagi · 3 years

Text

Stomach Bug Ch3

Future Plans

Thank you everyone who’s reading this fic and enjoying it. It really means a lot that you guys like this fic so much.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Everything settled down once Alfred stepped in the announce dinner, Jason was forced to relinquish Marinette so she could regain her footing and settle her stomach. Damian helped steady her as she took a few slow deep breaths to calm her stomach. Dick still much too animated, was herding the two youngest into the dining room where the table was filled with a large array of food plates set out and silverware pristine.

Damian helped her to a seat beside himself making sure she was comfortable before taking his seat much to the amusement of his family. “What?” he glared, catching his family all staring at him with a mix of glee and surprise.

“Oh nothing, just didn’t take you for a helicopter boyfriend.” Jason chuckled taking his seat and started to pile his plate full of Alfred’s amazing cooking.

“She’s pregnant, she should be careful.” Damian glared filling his and Marinette’s plate with all the vegetarian options he could find.

Marinette sighed softly watching Damian’s antics, a small smile on her face as he set her plate down in front of her, “Thank you Dami.” She whispered trying hard to ignore the three brothers across from her making exaggerated cooing and gagging noises at them

Bruce shook his head a fond smile on his face as everyone got their food and settled in to eat a comfortable silence falling over them as everyone enjoyed the meal. Of course, this is the Wayne household so silence never lasted long and it was Bruce to break it this time.

“So, Marinette why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself and you’re planning now that you’re pregnant, what do you plan to do for school?” Bruce asked sipping on some wine as he watched the two youngest.

“Schooling won’t be a problem. I was already doing online classes, so it won’t be a problem keeping up with my classes. As for the future I just want to do what is best for the baby and my future.” She smiled sipping on some water.

“And we’ll be there to help her out every step of the way,” Harley grinned, reaching over to ruffle Marinette’s hair.

“Of course, however, we should discuss her living arrangements.” Bruce nodded, setting his glass down pointedly ignoring his three eldest dramatically rolling their eyes and their comments of, ‘oh Christ’ and ‘he has to stop at some point.’

Harley just looked him in the eye and crossed her arms, ��She will be living with her mothers, we can provide for her just fine Bruce. She should remain somewhere she is familiar with and comfortable so she doesn’t stress herself out.”

“I understand that, however, I’d very much like to get to know my son’s girlfriend and would like to know that she always has someone with her.” Bruce said eyeing both women at his table, “I don’t mean to sound rude but you two are well-known guests at Arkham.”

“Ivy and I haven’t gotten thrown into Arkham since we got Marigold,” Harley glared, getting to her feet, “And I don’t like your tone you are not just going to swoop in and take my daughter just because she’s carrying your grandchild Bruce. She is staying at home with us where we can help her and make sure she is happy and comfortable.”

“I don’t mean to insult Harley.” Bruce said, raising his hands in a calming manner, “I want what is best for her as much as you. We can get her a private doctor who won’t go to the press if they find out whose child she is carrying. We can watch over her in the event of you two having to handle up on other matters of less legal means.”

Tension filled the room as the kids watched Harley and Bruce go back and forth with their arguments and reasoning for why it would be best for Marinette to live with them as opposed to the other. Jason seemed greatly entertained enjoying the show while Dick seemed to want to play mediator trying to cut in but failing each time as they just grew louder. It wasn’t long until the room was filled with Bruce’s stern voice and Harley’s animated accented speech.

“Maman,” Marinette shouted, effectively shutting down the argument as Harley turned to look at Marinette, “Maybe we can compromise?” she asked a bit quietly.

Harley sighed, sitting down, and waved her hand signaling for Marinette to continue as she grabbed a roll biting into it as she waited for Marinette to say her piece.

Marinette took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts before turning to look at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, do you want me to live here?” she asked, getting his nod of confirmation, “Maman, and Mum you still want me to stay at home?” she added looking over at Harley and Ivy getting their nods as well.

She nodded, taking another moment, “How about we have a sort of… custody agreement?” she asked, trying to think of the proper words, “All my schoolwork and projects are at home and I don’t want to completely relocate this late in the year. I can still stay with my moms’ during the week and on the weekend I can stay here. On holidays all of us can come over and spend the break here.” She said looking between the adults, “That way I’m still with my moms and you all can still get to know me and you can keep your eyes on me since no one thinks I can function now that I’m pregnant.”

The adults fell into silence thinking the proposal over. Harley let out a sigh letting her head fall back in her seat, “I suppose it’ll do but if anything happens to you while you’re here we are locking you in your room away from Bruce.” She quickly threw in.

“And if either of you end up in Arkham then she’s being moved to the manor immediately.” Bruce tacked on staring the two women down.

“So… doesn’t everyone agree to the terms?” Marinette asked, looking between the two a bit warily as they continued to stare each other down.

“It’s a good compromise.” Ivy said putting a hand on Harley’s arm, “Right Bruce?”

“Yes it is,” Bruce nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Harley to look at Marinette, “I’ll have Alfred prepare a room for you.”

Marinette nodded a soft smile on her face as the tension began to leave the room as everyone went back to quietly eating. Until Jason decided to cut in, “You met Demon Spawn through a pen pal assignment, right? How’d that go?”

Marinette giggled softly as Damian got this slightly pained look on his face at the mention of how they met. “I used to go to school in Paris, we had a pen pal assignment. We would send letters back and forth at first it was only for the assignment. I’ll admit I wasn’t aware he was from a well-known wealthy family and since it was just for school we didn’t share many personal details at the beginning.” She admitted.

“What was it that caused the snowball?” Damian asked, leaning back trying to remember.

“You mentioned in your letter that you were in the middle of a feud with your brothers because one of them threatened to eat Batcow and another hid Jerry the Turkey around Thanksgiving.” Marinette said giggling at the memory, “I was so confused that you had farm animals, and then the next letter you sent pictures of your animals. I still have them in an old photo album somewhere.”

“From there we just started talking more when the assignment was due to end she sent me her email and we continued to talk through that later it turned into video calls then we swapped numbers when she came to Gotham.” Damian finished pointedly ignoring his brothers looking at him as if he was a clone.

“Why did you move to Gotham?” Dick asked looking at Marinette a bit curious, “Not many people pick Gotham when they’re looking for new places to live.”

“I came to Gotham because that’s where my moms live. They adopted me a little over a year ago and I was flown out here once the adoption was all finished.” She said her formerly bright and happy smile fading away to a more somber one.

“You mentioned projects.” Jason quickly cut in drawing Marinette’s attention, “are they school projects or hobbies?”

“Oh, they’re commissions for an online store I have. I like to keep them in one spot part of why I don’t want to leave home just yet it’ll take a while to properly pack everything up so nothing is ruined.” She smiled a bit of her shine coming back, “I run a small online boutique and make clothing. The sweater and jeans I’m wearing I actually made. I don’t often buy premade clothing unless it’s to customize.”

Once the sudden round of questioning came to an end other conversations began to flow smoothly after that everyone taking turns to ask a question or to throw out an answer. The tension from the previous custody argument seemingly forgotten as the Wayne boys took turns trying to learn as much about Marinette as possible. However, Marinette made it a tad difficult for them to get any real personal information on her as she seemed to masterfully skirt around certain questions while making it seem like she wasn’t dodging the question.

If anyone noticed her doing so they didn’t comment on it. Soon the plates were cleared away and Alfred was coming out with a plate stacked with macarons of multiple colors and flavors. Alfred walked around and set down a few macarons on everyone’s plate before disappearing back into the kitchen with a few leftovers for him to enjoy. Everyone kindly thanked Marinette for bringing the dessert even though she didn’t have to as they each picked up their cookie to take a bite.

Soft chatter began to fill as the boys began complimenting Marinette on the macarons as they all enjoyed the sweet cookies. “These are delicious Marinette where did you learn to make them?” Dick asked his cheeks ballooned out like a chipmunk as he chewed.

Marinette giggled happiness filling her as everyone enjoying her dessert, “I grew up in a bakery most of my life so baking is just second nature at this point.” she smiled, “I usually make bread for the week on sundays so it’s one less thing we have to worry about getting at the store.” she added.

The Wayne boys nodded as they enjoyed the cookies and continued with their previous attempt of questioning Marinette though didn’t get very far once again. Marinette seemed to know how to handle questioning quite well to answer a question by not giving an answer at all and it didn’t even bother them.

All too soon dinner came to an end and the Isley-Quinzels had to leave so that Marinette could get to sleep for her classes in the morning. They all stood at the front door saying their good-byes and planning when best to drop Marinette off on the upcoming Friday. “We’ve also already found her an OB-GYN we’ll send over the information and when we have appointments settled we’ll be sure to notify you if we keep this doctor,” Ivy said as she pulled on her coat.

“You trust this doctor?” he asked looking at her as the boys were busy trying to say their good-byes to Marinette.

“We won’t know for sure until we’re in her office. Marinette is a good judge of character if she doesn’t trust the doctor then we won’t continue to go to them.” Ivy said as Marinette kissed Damian on the cheek before coming over to join them, “We’ll keep you informed on how everything goes but we won’t be able to set up an appointment until sometime next week.”

He nodded and opened the door for them, “You three have a safe night and I’ll see you on Friday Marinette.” Bruce smiled gently patting her back as she nodded following her mother’s out.

“Have a nice evening Mr. Wayne.” She smiled softly up at him as they all left heading down the stairs as Bruce closed the door and turned to face his sons. He let out a tired sigh watching as they all seemed to be ganging up on Damian trying to interrogate him about Marinette to learn as much as they could before Friday rolled around.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @killer-frost-ladybug @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #Stomach Bug

238 notes · View notes

thatsgay-writes · 3 years

Text

Day 12

The days after finding water we're pretty chill, minus finding out that Jeanette's body was gone. There was still some obvious tension between you and Toni and Toni and Martha and Shelby. You hadn't really interacted with either Toni or Shelby in the past few days either, opting to hang around Fatin. You hadn't talked to Toni because you didn't know what to say after the argument the two of you had and you had revealed your feelings for her in front of everyone. Shelby on the other head, had seemed to be the one ignoring you... Well maybe not ignoring she was just very short with you which was totally against her personality. You all had also made a schedule, seeing as you were going to be here for a while. Everyone got one chore a day and every once and a while a day off. Today happened to be your day off and you were glad, your chest pains had been happening more often and that concerned you.

It also concerned you that you didn't know when you would be rescued. The hospital, who was against the retreat but couldn't exactly do anything about it, had given you medication to help with your problem. It was enough pills for three weeks, just in case, but they had been lost like the rest of your stuff. You had checked the pilot bag that held all the medical stuff you guys had but it didn't have what you were looking for either. You've managed to hide coughing up blood by coughing into the elbow of you red shirt or spitting it out while in the woods. You had also been losing your appetite, which has been harder to hide. You'd force down some food and pretend like it was a lot so the other wouldn't worry. But today, luckily, you were starving and prepared to fully eat whatever Rachel brought for food.

---

"Let's feast!" You hear a Rachel suddenly yell as she stand on top of a little hill, carrying what looks to be a big amount of food. You stood up and attached your leg before joining everyone around the fire. You watch, mouth watering, as Dot cooks all the mussels over the fire. When they're done cooking, the mussels are laid out in a big pile in the middle. Everyone stared at the pile wondering who will go first, since they all understood how little food they had been finding the past couple days. "Eat as much as you want guys, there was enough of them to fill 3 more bags. I just ran out of room." At Rachel's words you all dive in and eat the mussels, except for Shelby. "Why aren't you eating any?" Leah asks as she looks suspiciously at Shelby. Not this again. You think as you eat your tenth mussel, what could you say you were hungry.

"I'm actually allergic to shellfish. Ate one at a birthday party and my throat swelled up like a balloon." Shelby responded as she watched everyone else eat. "That's rough." You say as you grab 3 more mussels. "Damn y/n. Is it good?" Fatin asks jokingly as she grabs another mussels for herself. You roll your eyes and let out a chuckle as you flip her off before grabbing more food. "You know what this looks like..." Toni says, grabbing everyone's attention with a smirk. You mentally facepalm because you know exactly where this is going. "A pussy!" Nora yells out causing everyone to laugh, the girl had definitely come out of her shell more the past few days. Toni nods her head before licking the mussels shell provocatively. "I bet y/n knows what that feels like!" Dot yells out causing everyone to make an "ooo" sound like kids when their peer got in trouble. You and Toni's face both heated up at Dots words and you made sure to give her a hardy punch in the shoulder.

"Can you all stop!?" Shelby suddenly yells out causing everyone to freeze and look at her questioningly. "Shelby, chill out we are just having some fun." Dot says, not really understanding what all the fuss was about. "I am chill, I just don't find that very amusing." Shelby responded, her voice getting a little harsher when she says the word that. "What do you mean by that?" Toni asks as she send you a quick look and you almost immediately understood where this was going. The look was one you or Toni would give the other when known homophobes where in the area or if the two knew you were being judge for doing pda. Was this why Shelley had been short with you the past few days? You did not like where this was going and neither did Toni. "Just... pornographic gestures. I'm from a very Christian home and no one ever does things like that."

You wanted to believe Shelby, you really did, but it explained why you always felt this weird vibe from her. "Don't lie Shelby, I always knew I felt some sort of vibe from you, it's clear now what it was. Toni and I have felt that vibe enough times to know what you really mean." You say, glaring at Shelby. "What... What are you guys trying to say?" Martha asks getting worried now. She knew what you meant when you said vibe, you and Toni had both told her about it. "She's a fucking homophobe." Toni spits out glaring at Shelby. You nod you head in agreement, putting back the mussels you had picked up before all this started. Martha's eyes go wide and she sends a Shelby a pleasing look, hoping she'll deny what Toni had just said.

"Look..." Shelby says as she lets out a big sigh. "I have no hate in my heart for y'all. It was just that I was taught that that way of life is a sin." Toni immediately jumps up and point her finger angrily at Shelby, "Why you little..." Toni was too mad to even finish her sentence. Martha had dropped her head in disappointment and let Fatin wrap and arm around her in comfort. The rest of the girls were just watching as everything unfolded. "I feel sorry—" Shelby starts to say, digging her into an even deep hole. "Fuck you." Toni interrupts her before storming off, you nod your head repeatedly in agreement, not looking at anyone as you finish putting your leg on and following after Toni.

---

"Toni. Toni. Toni!" You yell as you follow the girl. "Goddamn leg... Goddamn sand..." You mumble as you follow Toni down the beach. Luckily, she does finally stop after she deemed that she was far away enough to breathe. Toni kicks the sand angrily, as she stares out into the water. "I can't fucking believe this, no I can I just hoped..." Toni trails off as she wraps her arm around herself. You walk up to her and wrap your arms around her in a comforting hug, "I know, I know..." "We just get so much shit at home..." Toni trails off as she lets herself relax into your hug. "I know." You say again because that's all you can say. You relax for a few minutes before you get hit with a sudden nausea.

"Oh fuck." You mumble out as you unwrap from around Toni and throw up near the two of you. "Y/n?" Toni reacts in shock as she watches you kneel over as you try and spit out the taste of vomit and blood. Toni ends up turning around to throw up as well. "I didn't know you were a sympathetic puker..." You try and joke as you take deep breathes and slowly lay in the sand, feelin exhausted from throwing up. Toni wiped her mouth before turning back around, "C'mon, we can't stay here the heat wont help at all." Toni says as she pulls you to your feet, trying to ignore how she slowly started feeling worse. Toni has to practically drag your body back towards camp. "Help!" She yelled out as soon as she saw people and Fatin came running over. She took your other arm and most of the weight so Toni could relax some.

Luckily, the other girls seemed to be doing better than you and Toni. Both you and Toni were splayed out on the ground with Martha sitting near by as the other girls moved around the camp doing whatever. "Come on, lay on your side y/n." Martha mumbles worriedly as she listens to your labored breathing. Toni was at least a little more responsive and had tried to swallow water, while you didn't even react to someone moving your body. "Fuck, she's getting worse..." Dot said as she walked up to check on the three of you. "Where the hell is Leah with that medicine!?" Fatin almost yelled as she looked between you and Toni. Right as she said that, Leah broke through the tree line and ran towards Dot. "Why are they all dirty?" Dot yells out as she roots through the bag. "Only 2? I thought we had 3, I know we had 3!" Dot pulls out two tablets of halophen. "It's obvious who needs them the most." Shelby stated as she sat a little ways away from the group unfold. Dot bites her lip and looks at Martha, "Martha, you good?" "Yeah, I'll take a Pepto."

Dot nods her head and turns towards Fatin and hands her one of the tablets, "Figure out a way for her to take it." Fatin nods her head as she looks down at you. "Toni, I'm going to need you to take this." Shelby said as she took the other halophen tab from Dot. "I'm not taking shit from you." Toni says as angrily as she can. "It'll save your life Toni. Take the damn pill." "Should Shelby really be the one doing this." Rachel questions. "Am I not allowed to help her!?" Shelby says exasperatedly. She climbed on top of Toni and held her nose closed until she opened her mouth. As soon as she did, she stuff the pill in her mouth and covered it, forcing her to swallow. Shelby got off of Toni and turned her attention to you, ignoring how the other girls were looking at her.

"Have you gotten her to take it yet?" Fatin shakes her head no, "She's barely reacting to anything. I'm surprised she's still conscious." The girls sat silent for moment contemplating what to do. They start to panic when you cough up more blood. "Here, give it to me." Dot says as she snatches the tab and a nearby rock. She starts to crush the tab up as much as possible. "Just pour some in front of her nose and breath deep." The other girls don't really question Dot's idea and just follow what she says. "C'mon y/n, just one big breath and then you'll start to feel better."

---

You were leaning heavily against Toni as you and all the girls sat around the fire. You were still exhausted from today's earlier event. Luckily, they associated you coughing up blood to throwing up to much and you didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. No one knew about what was wrong with you except for the people at the hospital and yourself. You were finally clear to sleep by Dot because she wanted to make sure the meds had actually worked and that you wouldn't fall asleep just to never wake up again. You were almost asleep when Toni suddenly stands up yelling Martha's name and running over to her. You shake yourself awake and shakily stand up to see what was happening. Your heart stopped when you noticed that Martha had fallen and made no attempts at getting back up.

"Toni you were dying!" "Who cares? I don't matter! fuck, I don't matter. I don't fucking matter."

#the wilds x reader #x reader #female reader #shoni x reader #toni x reader #toni shalifoe x reader #shelby x reader #shelby goodkind x reader #toni x shelby #shoni #toni shalifoe x shelby goodkind

59 notes · View notes

kikis-writing-world · 4 years

Text

Sunflowers and Pink Roses

A/N: Full disclosure: I’ve never seen The Mentalist. Anything I know about Marcus is from y’all on here. So I know he’s sweet, romantic and deserved better™. I dunno, I had this fluffy idea and it just seemed him... apologies if I got his characterization way off since this is basically the fic version of broken telephone.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Rating/Warnings: PG - It’s super tame, I only even say PG because I think there’s one F-bomb in it. Also not thoroughly edited as usual.

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re still painfully single. Marcus happens to notice.

It was February.

More specifically, the second week of February.

February 14th to be exact.

Valentine’s Day.

You wouldn’t say you hated the holiday, but there weren’t a lot of days that strived to remind you just how single you were. You didn’t mind being single most of the time. You were a strong independent woman raised on Charlie’s Angels, Princess Leia, Miss Piggy. Like Destiny’s Child sang, “I depend on me!” You didn’t need a man to depend on for your happiness.

All of that didn’t stop you from watching those stupid Hallmark Romcoms with glossy eyes and an open yet slightly broken heart. You selfishly wanted someone who would look at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Someone who would send you good morning and good night texts, buy you little trinkets just because. Not to mention you wanted someone to do the same for. Someone you would think about during the day with a secret smile. You had all the love to give, just nowhere to direct it. At least not yet.

So on February 14th, you plastered the smile on your face with a little more force than usually needed. The water cooler gossip was mostly about who had what reservations where, what lovely things they had planned for the evening. You ignored the red and pink hearts hanging festively along the walls, trying to focus instead on the fact that tomorrow there would be a massive sale on candy and chocolates. Just keep your head down and make it through this one day.

The first bouquet arrived with a ding of the elevator, barely past ten in the morning. It was a modest bouquet of whites and reds. All eyes watched it as the delivery was carried through the office and placed on a coworker’s desk. A gift from her husband. The women fawned over the bouquet and you even offered a polite smile to Jenna, but ultimately turned back to work to tune it out.

The next gift was barely 30 minutes later: a white teddy bear carrying a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a balloon tied around it’s waist deposited on Petra’s desk.

Then chocolates for Selena.

Roses for Anton.

Bouquet for Rhonda.

Cookies for Tanya.

You lost count, but you couldn’t help but watch with envy as each gift was carried past, giggles and chatter following it. Maybe next year.

~☆*☆*☆~

Marcus loved Valentine’s day. He loved it more when he had someone to share it with, someone to dote on, but he still loved the sentiment behind it nonetheless. He watched from his office with a smile each time a new gift was deposited on someone’s desk. The happiness he felt carried a small sting, a reminder of the relationships of the past, but it faded fairly quickly as he shared in the happiness of his coworkers.

He had thought about trying to find a date for the night, trying out one of those dating apps he always heard about, but it felt forced. He wanted that romance but he wanted it organically. He wanted to meet someone at his local coffee shop or at a museum. In a library or at the park. Shy conversations while he worked up the nerve to ask for her number. Wondering how long to wait until he called. Worrying about how many dates until it was acceptable to kiss her. Despite the pain of past heartbreak, he knew when the time was right he’d find the one.

He watched with another grin as a massive, bright bouquet of pink, red and orange flowers was carried through the office. It was a little much for his tastes, he preferred something small that made a statement. He held pride in finding out his partner’s favorite flower or colour, using that information to personalize a gift like that.

As he watched the bouquet cross the floor to Indira’s desk, his eyes fell to your face. Your desk was opposite the windows to his office, so it wasn’t uncommon for his eyes to fall on you as he worked. Even through the window and across the 10 feet or so to your desk, he could read your expression like a book. You watched the flowers pass with a wistful envy before offering Indira a tight smile. You turned back to your work, smile falling and a crease appearing on your brow. Marcus was familiar with that expression because he had definitely made it before.

He leaned up in his chair, trying to sneak a look at your desk. He didn’t see flowers, stuffed animals, chocolates. Nothing left there by a loved one to brighten your day. He leaned back, trying to think if any of the office gossip he’d heard recently mentioned if you had a partner. He knew you weren’t married, not that he’d ever admit to subtly checking your hand for a wedding ring. He was technically your boss, your direct superior, and he knew first hand how messy dating a coworker could get. Yes, he thought you were pretty. And funny. And charming. And had a smile that could light up the room- He’d convinced himself plenty of times not to pursue it further, not wanting to get tangled in another workplace romance.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but as the elevator dinged with another delivery he watched the resigned envy cross your face once more.

~☆*☆*☆~

The end of the day was nearing. You’d been wondering earlier this morning if you could get away with sneaking out a little early. Luckily the deliveries had slowed down around 2:00, along with the fanfare that came with them. You just had to get through the next 30 minutes and you could head home, put on sweats, and eat the cookie dough that was waiting in the fridge.

A ding from the elevator had you look up, yet another beautiful bouquet walking through the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the ones that had come through today, but it had an understated elegance to it. The sunflowers seemed to glow around the delicate pink roses, a beautiful combination sitting in a clear vase with a white ribbon tied around it. You weren’t sure who they were for, it seemed most of the desks in the office already had flowers or gifts of some kind on it. You were shocked when you heard the young delivery boy say your name. Mary Ellen smiled brightly and pointed your way.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you noticed everyone’s eyes on you, a few of the women bold enough to follow the teen over to your desk. You nodded dumbly as he confirmed your name, setting the flowers down with a mumbled “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” Selena cooed, brushing her hand lightly against the flowers.

“I-I’m not.” You shook your head, staring at the beautiful flowers.

“A secret admirer?” Mary Ellen gasped, holding her hands under her chin. “That’s so romantic.”

“Is there a card?” Rhonda asked.

“Here!” Selena had found the little piece of cardstock among the stems, handing it over.

You bit your lip as you opened it, having no idea what to expect. You didn’t recognize the penmanship, but it could have easily been written by the florist.

~☆*☆*☆~

“Are you for real?” The guy on the phone laughed, his thick accent mocking Marcus. “It’s the second busiest day of the year and you wanna place an order now? You must be really stupid if you forgot Valentine’s Day.” The man continued to laugh.

“Look, I need it delivered before 5:00.” This was the fourth place he’d called, most of them laughing and hanging up on him. “Is that something you can do?”

“Oooh, that’s gonna cost ya. Big.”

“That’s fine.” Marcus sighed, leaning over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Okay, we don’t got much left-”

“Sunflowers?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to that flower at first, the request was out of his mouth before he really thought about it.

“Gimme a sec.” The man told him, gruff voice fading as Marcus heard him yell. “Hey Martha! We got any sunflowers left?”

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the back and forth on the other end of the line.

“Martha’s got sunflowers. Says she’s got a few extra pink roses she can throw in with ‘em. That work?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

“Whatd’ya want on the card?”

“The card?” Marcus parroted. He hadn’t thought about writing anything.

“You’re orderin’ a last minute bouquet, you better become Shakespeare real fuckin’ quick if you wanna stay out of the doghouse, loverboy.”

“Uhh…” He stuttered trying to find the right words.

“I ain’t got all day.” The man huffed. “Second busiest day of the year.” He reminded him.

“Uh, make it say… uh…”

~☆*☆*☆~

“Some may be intimidated by your shine But someone will come along and make you shine even brighter And they will be worth the wait”

“Wow.” Rhonda swooned. “That’s so sweet.”

“Is it signed from anyone?” Selena asked.

“No. That’s it.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It was beautiful.

“Oooh, secret admirer! Mary Ellen, you were right!” Rhonda sang. “This is so exciting.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anton leaned over from his desk to ask. You hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

“I-I have no idea.” You stuttered. It was true. “I wish I knew, so I could thank them or something.”

“Something alright.” Selena purred, making everyone shriek and giggle as you flushed.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” The voice cut through the giggles, making everyone sober up. Marcus was standing just outside his office door, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing. Just some Valentine’s Day magic.” Rhonda trilled. The giggles resumed, much quieter this time, as everyone fluttered back to their own desks to return to work.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, embarrassed that the excitement had disrupted your boss.

“It’s okay.” Marcus chuckled, toeing at the carpet of the office for a moment. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He teased with a grin, putting you at ease.

“Yessir, Special Agent Pike.” You mock saluted, making him chuckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too.”

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x Female Reader #Marcus Pike Imagine #The Mentalist Fanfic #Marcus Pike Fanfic #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #WookieTales #Actually super nervous to post this one #because my lack of familiarity with the source #so like hope you like it?

291 notes · View notes

ravenadottir · 3 years

Text

Hear me out: headcannons about Bobby growing old with mc🥺 (I needed some fluff T-T)

no no no no no, you can’t just come in here and do this to me!! that’s so wholesome! i think i’m gonna have to divide this in decade marks, and maybe stop at the 30 year mark? i can do a part II later. 🤔

‘10 year mark’

the ‘mckenzie’ brand has expanded to restaurants, bars and bakeries all over the uk

the bars are considered a hot spots in the big cities. pictures of young ‘paisley cuddle’ are scattered on the walls, along with the pics from the villa’s parties, to set the theme

the restaurants have bobby and his experiences with famous chefs, like jake ‘sweetcheeks’ wilson, mary berry, gordon ramsey, wolfgang puck.

the bakeries however have the pictures from the time bobby went on the bake off show and won.

there’s small town models of the bakeries/restaurants that are seen as ‘family diners’

you and bobby already have two kids, 4 years apart from each other. in my head bobby is the type to have them earlier so they can live their best life together, have fun in the kitchen or in the backyard playing ball.

he loves throwing birthday parties every year, and of course, baking the cake. to which year is a different theme. “babe, you take care of the decorations and the details i’m definitely gonna forget, and me?” he puffs his chest holding a whisk. “i’m the cake guy.”

bobby is the reason why the kids love the parties so much. he’s the type of parent that goes on the slider with the kids, jumps with them in the bounce house, starts the water balloon wars…

the parents are so thankful for him since he’s pretty much the one who keeps an eye on them at all times.

usually, he’s waking up early every day because it became a habit since his hospital times. he never really shook that habit. so he prepared breakfast, takes the dog out, while you wake the kids up to eat and rush them to school

the dad that takes two different cameras and a phone to film and take pictures during his kids’ public presentations, games, recitals and science fairs “dad, one phone is enough” “yeah, but your dad needs backup! i’m from the 90′s darling. i can’t be any different” he says, shrugging with a grin.

you guys have a small house on the outskirts of glasgow or london, depending on who won the bet you had when you got married.

you’re pregnant again. entirely unplanned and now bobby can’t stop crying,. he always wanted three kids.

‘15 year mark’

a third child came three years ago, which made you consider a much more peaceful place to buy a house. and a bigger one for that matter.

bigger bakyeard means more people and their kids playing around the lawn, as bobby and gary grill sausages, making stupid jokes about it, and you and the girls have drinks shaking your heads.

you and bobby are gary’s kids’ godparents

ibrahim can’t come, he’s to busy making mad money on brand deals. noah is calming the kids down, by reading something in the living room, while bobby shakes a cocktail for the tired parents.

gary gives you a new couple of puppies, because the dog you had has unfortunately passed away. (sorry!)

your first kid is just turning 13 and being a little pain in the ass. but they like their uncles and aunties so they will actually raise their heads from *inser new device that will replace phones*

you guys travel in your car, to spend a week in cabins, fishing, playing ball, having picnics close to the lake

bobby always throws at least one of the kids in the water, before jumping in and splashing everyone. “bet you can’t do better than that, babe…” he says to you, raising his brows suggestively. “watch me, mckenzie.”

summer time and the lake became a tradition since it was the first place you and him spent a holiday alone

the employees that attend to you in hotels refer to you as “the mckenzie’s”

in the city, you have a trustworthy babysitter that will spend the night so you and bobby can have some time alone

he surprises you with dates and flowers out of nowhere

early nights are made for you and bobby to help the kids with homework

at this point, bobby is invited to be a special guest in cooking/baking competitions in the uk

and to have a “masterclass” of hiw own, where he mostly credits you for the idea of expanding, the execution of the administrative plans and how to actually expand a business. “i only do the cooking. she’s the genius behind the money.” he laughs while crossing his legs during his online course.

‘20 year mark’

kids’ sad times. graduations are happening. the youngest is entering third grade, the other one is in uni, far from home. “did you have to choose something so far from your old man?” “dad… of course! how else would i have a ‘paisley cuddle’ phase?” they respond, laughing. “i should’ve never told you thats story! now you’re having ideas!” “relax dad. everything is gonna be fine!” the middle one is entering high school and their rebellious phase.

bobby follows through with his part of the deal when you got married, by wearing something ridiculous to embarrass your kid at their graduation. “dad, you look like a hawaiian drug dealer.” “ i know,” “oh, so it wasn’t dark when you got dressed? mom!” “what can i say, your dad doesn’t care for blacks and blues.” “yeah, right…”

professionaly, bobby has a renowned signature dish, plenty of new ideas for the future, like school and courses.

the house is the same you bought five years ago, but now, it’s mostly parents getting together for barbecues, cocktails, movies and game nights

the younger children stay in the tv room upstairs

‘25 year mark’

your second child didn’t go to uni, and decided to help out on the family business. they always felt like this was the life for them and couldn’t wait to finish school to start.

bobby wanted them to go to school to learn everything they could “but dad, you didn’t, and you know so much.” “oof, they got you there, babe.”

you have a second wedding ceremony and a second honeymoon

bobby has a few grey hairs popping through his dreads

he’s still wearing colorful shirts and girls on social media call him ‘daddy’

he’s been invited to cook for the queen (yes, she’s still alive)

you see your friends a few times more a year now.

your third child is going to uni, to follow a career path you never imagined they would, but you’re proud of them

you decided to sell the house, that’s so big now, and find a smaller one that still has an extra bedroom for when your oldest comes to stay with their partner

bobby cracks dad jokes now, and according to gary, he picked them up from him “sure, gary, ‘cause you’re the only man on the planet who tells dad jokes” “stop bickering! you’re like an old married couple.” you say, slapping their arms playfully

‘30 year mark’

your first child just had their first child

“you’re a grandpa, bobs!” gary slaps him on the back, picking up a box of cigars that they will share with noah and ibrahim.

“can’t believe i’m this old.” “if you’re old, what am i?” you ask him, folding your arms on your chest. “beautiful?” he responds with a clear guilty expression.

‘things that would happen at all times during this entire journey’

bobby would sing to the kids every night

you would read them bedtime stories, taking turns to do the voices

it’s a tradition to cook together on special occasions, no matter what happens. the three kids, you and bobby would always spend the day listening to music, talking about life, slicing, sauteeing, mixing, measuring. it’s a tradition that will never die

when your grandkids come around, they will be the the ones resposible for measuring

drawings that your kids do in school akways have extra colors on bobby’s outfits. his name also has more than three colored letters

bobby has taught your kids how to play the guitar

rainy afternoons were known as “dad’s baking afternoons”

you and bobby had a hard time to find a compromise between being friends and parents.

open conversations with your kids, about everything. they knew what to expect in the world.

bobby’s parents would visit, to spend a whole weekend and share stories of his childhood, as yours would too

family vacation always had a ‘car trip and singing along to the radio’ type of tradition as well

your oldest now takes their child for family vacation in the same spot you and bobby used to

twice a year you guys rent a place for the family to have some bonding, even after they get married (or not)

“your dad is the finest pillow fort architect in the uk”

camping in the backyard when you had to cancel a trip

you’re in charge of coaching and playing sports in the back of the house while bobby relaxes under the sunlight “i was never very athletic”. he’s the empire

*these are the ones on the top of my head. i must’ve left dozens behind :/

#litg #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #litg s2 #litg season 2 #fusebox #fusebox games #bobby mckenzie #queue #submission #litg bobby

110 notes · View notes

unsaid-stardust · 3 years

Text

Touch Me Like the Pouring Rain

trigger warning: this fic implies mild depressive episodes.

Luke used to love the rain. He often found himself on the walkway of the studio when it rained; back when he was alive that is. Now? Now he couldn’t feel the rain like he used to.

He couldn’t feel the baby droplets that raced down his arms; washing away whatever was troubling him at that moment in time (because the rain always seemed to hit so perfectly). He couldn’t get the shivers down his spine that he used to when he sat in the walkway, the ones that always made him remember why he liked to write. He couldn’t just sit and feel things anymore.

And it hurt.

It physically caused an ache in his chest. It was nothing like the pain from the jolts that were caused by Caleb’s stamp, not in the slightest. But, it was enough to make Luke unproductive the entire day, setting up camp at the window sill in Julie’s room.

Luke knew that he wasn’t supposed to be in Julie’s room, but there was something (Always) pulling him there. And he really needed to be surrounded by her today. He didn’t know why, perhaps it was that same gravity that pulled him towards Julie’s room. He really didn’t care for the why though because it didn’t change whether he went to Julie’s room or not (He knew why, but knowing and admitting are two completely separate things).

“Luke?” Julie’s voice called out to him; snapping him out of whatever ghostly trance he was in.

Had he been here all day? It didn’t feel like it. No, no he was only there for like 2 hours. But, then why was Julie already home from school?

“Luke, are you ok? That was like the third time I called your name,” Julie explained after dropping her backpack at her door. She made her way next to him at the window sill and it was then that Luke realized that he had been in some sort of catatonic state. His view of choice? the falling rain.

Most days, he could push that empty feeling in the back of his mind. The one that screams at him and tells him that he is no longer alive. That he doesn’t even have a body, a home, a family, at least one that shares his DNA. The only good thing about being dead is that he has Julie, Alex, and Reggie with him, but sometimes-- sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll head out now,” Luke lied, not really realizing his low, monotone-coated voice. Luke began to make his way towards the door when Julie touched his arm signaling for him to stop.

“Luke, I can’t let you walk away when I can tell that something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

If it were anyone else, if it were Alex or Reggie, he simply would have continued to make his way out of the room. They have enough weight on their shoulders, he didn’t want to add to it. And he certainly didn’t want to add that same weight onto Julie, but he couldn't say no to her. Not when she’s looking up at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. Not when she’s touching his arm, her warmth radiating onto his skin. Not when she’s the one that gets him without him needing to say a word.

But, how could he explain it to her? For one thing, it was a stupid concept to miss. Rain? It’s literally just water that falls from the sky and ruins your day by getting you wet when you weren’t planning it. And for another thing, he was never good at explaining his emotions. It’s why he wrote songs in the first place. For some reason, it was just easier putting them into music because that was all he was after; it didn’t seem as monumental as sharing his feelings out loud.

But with Julie, he could learn to try.

So, he pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath in and out, not letting his eyes off of Julie’s (If he did, it would’ve all been over and he would’ve left).

“it’s kinda of...stupid, but I've kinda been missing rain? I know it’s right out in front of me so it’s not like I can’t see it, but I can’t....feel it the way I used to and it’s just...hard,” Luke finishes. He dares to look right at Julie then and he sees her lips part and eyes looking back as if she knew him in a past life.

Sometimes it felt like that. Like Luke knew Julie in a past life. He doesn't know if it’s because of that night in her kitchen when she passed through his entire body and he could see the light in her soul. Or if it was the connect of electricity that flowed through their veins as they wrote lyrics and melodies at the piano. Or if it was because of moments like these where he could swear that Julie could feel what he was feeling even though he knew that was out of the question because she was alive and he was...

“Luke, that’s not...” Julie trailed off, trying to find the right words to say.

“That’s not stupid at all. Now that we can-touch it makes me forget the reason why we’re called Julie and The Phantoms in the first place. It only makes sense that some days--are like this. Is there anything I can do?” She questioned.

Luke felt his lips crease into a hint of a smile, the first hint of one, he guessed, all day. Of course she would want to help. Of course. She’s Julie Molina. Words couldn’t really express how much of a pure heart she was. But, even if that was the case, Luke felt that this was one thing that Julie couldn’t fix (She could stay and that would take the pain way a bit, but Luke didn’t think they were at that point in their interesting little relationship yet).

“I-I don’t know. But, Jules?” He questioned softly. She hummed in response.

“Thanks,” Luke acknowledged with a small smile and Julie nodded.

“Of course. I meant it when I said it. You can tell me anything. Now I'm starving so I'm gonna go get a snack you’re welcome to join me in the kitchen, but if you don’t feel up to it, I guess just this once, you can stay in my room,” Julie explained with that smile that Luke swore would put the stars to shame.

“I’ll stay here. Thanks...”

Julie nodded before heading out of her room and closing the door behind her leaving Luke to watch the rain fall out of her bedroom window. If it was one thing Luke Patterson knew, it was that Julie Molina was the sun: warm and bright and wonderful.

But, what Luke Patterson didn’t know was that Julie Molina was forming a plan in her head.

Luke began to notice the plan, however, the next night in the kitchen. It was early in the evening after the Molina’s had finished dinner, which the boys were now invited to as Julie’s dad knew about them now (They’d tell him that they can’t eat, but all three of them had decided it was the least they could do after everything he’s done for them; letting them stay and all).

Julie had collected everyone’s plates off of the dining room table and brought them into the kitchen to wash, Luke offered to help, but she refused. So, instead, he just kept her company as she rinsed the plates off in the sink. He perched himself on the kitchen counter next to the plates handing them off to her to make the process quicker.

Just like always, they had slipped into a sort of routine. Julie washed a plat with a dish rag, put it into the dish washer and hand out her hand towards Luke, who already had the plate in her reach. It was seamless, almost like a product line in a factory. That was, until it wasn’t.

Luke had been reaching for another plate beside him when Julie flicked her dish rag at him with a smug smile. Luke still couldn’t feel the water then. He may be visible to the Molinas (Only sometimes, the boys still haven’t figured that out entirely yet), he may be able to pick things up better, but he still couldn’t feel water. He didn't know what it was about tangibility, maybe it just wasn’t their strong suit.

What he did know, was that he felt that Julie’s seemingly spontaneous water fight wasn’t really spontaneous at all and that it had something to do with their conversation yesterday afternoon. Even though Luke saw right through it, he still played along, grabbing a dish towel himself and splashing her right back.

That’s how the kitchen ended up in puddles that night and Julie’s clothes got tighter (Luke felt like the universe was teasing him at that point; showing him things that he couldn’t touch no matter how badly he wanted to).

It become a sort of reoccurrence; The incident in the kitchen. They started out as subtle little things. Splashing him when they sat at a fountain when they were out one day. Flipping her wet hair at him after she came down from showering (which man, did he think he was daydreaming at first).

After those methods didn’t seem to work, though, Julie went bigger. Spraying him with the garden hose, brining out water guns. She tried everything yet nothing she did seemed to work. Luke debated telling her that she should just give up on him; it was never gonna happen.

But then, it did.

Luke had been walking out of the studio after finishing the final touches on a guitar solo for a new Julie and The Phantoms song when something passed through him, making him stop in his tracks.

He swiftly turned around to try and find the object that had passed, but nothing was remnant of the feeling. Because he didn’t see anything alarming, Luke began to make his way towards the house, but the feeling of something passing through him happened again; no objects in sight.

“What the hell is going on?!” Luke shouted. Well, he got is answer alright. Suddenly, Julie had appeared behind one of the bushes in the garden, water balloon in hand.

“Get him!” She commanded as if it were a battle cry. Luke thought then, that maybe it was, because immediately after she had called, Flynn, Carlos, Alex, and Reggie all appeared from different hiding places in the garden as they began throwing their ammo.

Instinctively, Luke threw his hands up in front of him, his leg pulling up in front of his chest too, to shield him from the balloons that inevitably just passed right through him. In that moment of time, everyone forgot, even Luke.

Because the three boys didn’t get wet, it was Julie, Carlos and Flynn who had suffered the consequences, playful yelps sounding from each of them as they were hit. And Luke wasn’t preoccupied enough not to notice. So, he came up with his own game plan--making a run for it towards Julie and stealing her ammo.

In this case, it was an advantage that he wasn’t able to get wet as he ran across the battlefield. Julie had been distracted by Flynn, who had made Julie her new target, which gave Luke the leeway he needed to sneak up behind her and grab a water balloon from the bucket next to her.

He didn’t miss a beat when he catapulted the balloon at her back. She threw her arms up in shock and turned around to face the culprit; drops of water making her face glitter in the sun.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” She yelled at him. Luke held up his hands in defense and widened his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, I’m scared!” He mocked, which was a big mistake because Julie charged towards him after that.

“You should be! Get back here!” She laughed. Luke didn’t take her order, continuing to run laps around the backyard.

“oh I don’t think so! You’ll have to catch me first!” Luke yelled back at her. Julie continued to laugh as she chased after him, Luke joining in too. Neither of them sure how much time had actually passed, Julie finally caught up to Luke and tackled him to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Julie smiled brightly above Luke. Luke realized then how close he was to Julie. Luke’s back had pressed against a tree from Julie’s force while Julie found herself practically straddling Luke, his hands mindlessly placed on her wast, their faces hovering inches apart.

And it was in that moment that Luke had realized something important. He may not be able to feel rain like he used to, but he could feel Julie. He could feel her breath warming his cold skin. Her hands resting on his shoulders. Her legs against his.

He could feel his lips against hers as both of them had began to gravitate towards each other just like they always seem to do.

And as he was kissing her, their bodies moving in sync, his cold breath mixing with her warm, he realized that it had happened.

Luke pulled away from Julie’s lips, his own hurting because of how big he was smiling, and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face as he leaned in and whispered

“You’re my new rain.”

tagging: @moony221b @littledancersun @willexx @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #juke #julie molina x luke patterson #ok now this one is another favorite of mine sakljfh #it look me like 3 days to write which is abnomral #but im working on that skjlhfd #bree writes jatp

67 notes · View notes

tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

Mistake (Rafe Cameron x reader) Epilogue

Summary: You, a pogue and Rafe Cameron, a kook are friends of benefits, secretly of course. But what happens when you get pregnant?

** Mistake Masterlist **

A/N: well.... this is the end. Thank you to everyone who’s followed this story and supported it by either liking, commenting, or reblogging it. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. I love you guys xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

~ 5 Months Later ~

You’d just hit the 9 month mark and well baby pogue (or baby kook as all Rafe’s friends call it) could be here any day now. It was all up to her to make her famous debut. The last 5 months were smooth sailing. The apartment over the garage was fixed up for you, Rafe and the baby. The nursery was painted, furniture together, and décor hung on the walls, thanks to Sarah and Kie.

You waddled your way through the apartment; Rafe was in the living room watching tv and that’s when you saw it. You bursted into tears like it was the worst thing in the world. Rafe was quick on his feet, “What?! What’s wrong?” He hurried to you, jumping over a pile of dirty clothes to be put in the laundry, “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, putting your forehead against his chest, your belly creating a large space between the two of you.

“Baby… what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He wraps his arms around you.

“t-the shoes.” You sniffled, pulling away from him and pointing to the shoes that were by the door. It was his shoes he’d taken off when he arrived home earlier. Instead of going in the closet like usual they were sitting neatly by the door and for some reason it was the end of the world for you.

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, “I’m sorry baby. I’ll put them up.” He slowly pulls from you and grabs the shoes from the floor and putting them on the rack in the closet, “Better?”

You sniffled, nodding and wiping your eyes, “They just weren’t where they were supposed to be.”

“Please be careful…” Kie winced as Pope and John B helped you over into the boat. You may have been 9 months pregnant and the size of a whale but that didn’t stop you from a nice relaxing day on the boat.

“I’m fine, Kie.” You huff, sitting down on your usual seat. “Thank you, boys.”

“Are you sure you should be out on the boat?” Pope asks, grabbing your bag from the dock and setting it in the boat.

“You look like you’re about to pop.” JJ adds, sitting down.

You and Kie give him a look and he holds his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying.”

“My doctor said it was fine as long as it was smooth rides.” You look at John B, who nods, “I won’t go out of the marsh. It’ll be smooth.”

“What if you go into labor?” JJ looks uneasy as he looks at your belly and then back up at you, “I’m not a doctor. None of us are.”

You roll your eyes, “JJ, I’ll be fine. We’re not going far out. Soon, I won’t be able to do this. I just needed to get out of the house.” You knew you probably should have come out considering you had pains in your stomach all morning, but they weren’t anything major. You figured they were Braxton hicks or false labor. You’d already had a scare and Rafe had rushed you to the hospital only to be told it was Braxton hicks. You didn’t want that to happen again.

You ran a hand over your stomach, “Will you guys please stop looking at me like I’m a little china doll that could break?”

You took a deep breath as another pain rolled through your lower stomach, clenching your eyes shut. This one was more intense than the others.

“You okay?” John B puts a hand on your shoulder.

You nod, “Yeah fine. Just some Braxton hicks.”

“Maybe we should head back.” John B offers.

You stand, “John B I’m fine, okay? I just need to walk a little.” You craned your neck from side to side as you took a couple steps. And that’s when you felt it. “Oh no.” You look up at the pogues, eyes wide. Your water just broke.

“Oh my god.” Kie says.

“Oh, that’s disgusting.” JJ makes vomit noises.

“Shit.” Pope adds.

“And it’s time for us to go.” John B says, getting behind the wheel. “Everyone sit down!”

“Someone has to call Rafe!” You clutch at JJ and Pope’s hand as they help you walk up toward the chateau.

“On it!” Kie says, digging through your bag for your phone.

JJ winces, “Shit, y/n.. don’t break my hand.”

You send him a look and he quickly shuts up, “You squeeze it however hard you need too. Yup, you can break my hand if you need to.” He nods.

“Get her in the van.” John B puts some blankets down in the van, moving trash out of the way.

You double over as another contraction hits, “Oh god..”

“Note that one Pope.” John B says.

“Yup I got it! They’re getting closer. Maybe 7 minutes?”

“Rafe, she’s in labor! I don’t know, we were on the boat and her water broke… yes we’re on our way.. okay we’ll meet you there.” Kie throws the phone back in the bag, “Rafe’s meeting us there.”

“Can we get going then before she pops this baby out right here?!” JJ looks frantically at the pogues.

“She’s beautiful..” Rafe whispers next to you. You were ready to push as soon as you got there. Rafe was already waiting in the hospital for you guys to arrive. It only took a few good pushes and she was here.

“She has your eyes..” You gently rub your finger over her cheek, looking up at him, “You ready to hold her?”

He nods, gently taking her from you. His eyes tear up looking down at the baby swaddled in a pink blanket, “Hi baby girl..” He slowly backs up so he can sit in the rocker next to you, slowly rocking back and forth. “I thought you were beautiful..” He looks up at you, “But she’s breathtaking, y/n. I mean she’s perfect.”

You nod, “We made a pretty cute baby, didn’t we?”

He chuckles, nodding, “We did. Who would have thought you and I having a drunken one-night stand on the beach would end in this?”

“A lot of good came from that one night stand.”

There was a soft knock on the door, “Come in..” In walked the pogues. John B had a bouquet of flowers, JJ had balloons, Kie had a gift bag and Pope had a teddy bear in his hands.

Rafe slowly stands from the rocker, “she’s beautiful, you guys.”

Kie gives an excited quiet squeal, putting the gift bag down, coming over to Rafe, “look at her.. oh she’s so cute and little.”

John B comes to your side, setting the flowers on your bed side table, “How’s mama feeling?” He kisses your head.

“I’m good.. Better now that she’s here.” You give his hand a squeeze.

“she’s going to have a hard time with boys because her uncles are going to kick the asses of all the boys that come near her..” JJ coos over Kie’s shoulder.

“Yes we are.. you’re never going to have a boyfriend.” Pope coos.

“Finally, something we all agree on..” Rafe chuckles, handing Kie the baby.

John B walks over, holding his hand out to Rafe, “Congratulations, man. She’s beautiful.”

Rafe nods, shaking John B’s hand, “Thank you. And thank you for getting her here safely. And in time.” He chuckles.

You watch as Rafe and the pogues stand around admiring her. You never thought you would be sitting here 10 months ago. However, you wouldn’t take anything back. Your friendships were stronger. You managed to catch the love of your life and now brought a beautiful and healthy new baby into the world. The pogues vs kooks was over, non-existent. This one mistake brought you great things.

“What’s her name?” Pope asks, looking up at you. The other pogues looking at you as well.

“Maddie Anne Cameron.”

You’d had plenty of mistakes over the last 10 months, but this one mistake ended up being the best thing that had ever happened to you.

Obx taglist: @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6 , @treestarrrrrrrr , @omgwhattheeven , @normatural , @lreincarnationl , @laurenron , @junkiemuppettxx , @beth-winchester21 , @divcrdown , @timotaychalabae , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @tangledinsparkles , @prejudic3 ,@lanarichards5 @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch , @fratboystark , @nas-marie-loves-u , @sunwardsss , @annedub , @jellyfishbeansontoast , @turtlee-says-rawr, @fanficscuziranout , @wellthathappened2 , @write-from-the-heart , @louisolos , @outrbank , @sunset-d-rive , @family-buisnes , @traumaflavouredjuulpod , @http-cherries , @k-k0129 , @mileven-reddie , @eclecticpuppyhollywoodhumanoid , @cinnamon-roll-seth , @teamnick , @rockyyc77 , @ellojustafangirlhere , @sataninsatin , @lordsagittarius , @helplessquotess , @katerosexx , @kiarasgold , @thee-sex , @sunshinemadds , @ceruleanjj , @nikki082489 , @ilovejjmaybank , @laubluered , @lcil123 , @notmcchkn , @ceruleanjj , @fangirlvoice , @maybebanks , @lolitstiana , @danicarosaline , @obx-beach , @katiaw2 , @hardyxlove , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @obxmxybxnk , @lasnaro , @thedarkqueenofavalon , @you-got-me-starry-eyed , @poguestyleskye , @poguesnobx , @godspeedlover , @coni-martina , @kaylinfayezink , @loveylangdon , @blossombxby13 , @thelovelydreamer17 , @chasefreakinstokes , @daddydobrockk , @you-got-me-starry-eyed , @kkmikayla

*if your name is crossed out tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you :(

All my works tag list: @blossomreed

493 notes · View notes

teenwolffan-with-nolife · 4 years

Text

The Witch and the Wolf Pt.24

Word Count: 2,610

Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Ms.Morell, Gerard Argent, OC hunters, Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: yay one more part till season 3 lol

Masterlist Series Masterlist

You stared down at your bruised knuckle, holding back a slight chuckle as you examined it. You sat in the hallway, waiting for your appointment with the counselor. Whoever it was. The Sheriff thought it would be best for all of you to go to her, seeing as what happened a few nights ago. He didn't know everything you’d seen before then.

“Stiles,” you called, as he walked out of the office.

“Hey,” you sniffled, walking to you as he played with the strings on his racket.

“Nervous about the game?” you asked.

“Honestly, I’ve barely thought about the game, with everything else,” he nodded.

“How are you doing?” he asked you.

“I don’t know. Erica and Boyd are leaving, probably taking Isaac with them. But it's fine,” you replied softly, trying to convince yourself more.

You’d made a mini home with the pack.

“I don’t think Isaac will leave you, you know,” Stiles tried to make you happier.

“(Y/N),” Ms.Morell walked out of the office, waiting for you.

“Catch you later,” you pat Stiles’ back, walking away.

---

“Peter?” you gasped, staring at him as your eyes went wide.

“Missed me?” he smirked.

You felt an overwhelming sense of anger flood through your veins, before you clenched your fist, swinging at his face, hitting him.

“Oh, my-” Derek looked at you, slightly surprised as you looked back at an unconscious Peter.

“He’s alive?! He’s fucking alive?!” you yelled at Derek, smacking his arm.

“That's what I was about to tell you,” he exclaimed.

“I’m gonna kill him again! How the hell is he alive?!” you exclaimed, rubbing your head.

Derek picked up his unconscious uncle, waking out of your apartment, with you next to him.

“Lydia.”

---

“So, (Y/N), what brings you here?” Ms.Morell sat in the chair in front of you, as you crossed your legs, leaning back, playing with the skin on your knuckles.

At least you knocked Peter out.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” you replied, not paying much attention.

To you, speaking to a counselor or speaking to someone in that way wasn’t something you were fond of.

“Is it about the other night? At the station?” she asked.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“Your mother died recently, correct?” you felt your heart drop, hearing the mention of your mother.

You simply nodded, looking at your fist.

“What happened to your fist?” she asked.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, looking up.

“Okay. Tell me, how are you doing? About your mother?” she asked.

“I’m doing fine. Just thriving,” you said sarcastically.

“How are you doing with everything else?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Your best friend and her family passed away in an unfortunate fire, and your mother passed away the same way. Not to mention being trapped in the school, with Derek Hale trying to kill you,” she started.

Derek? The rumor was cleared, everyone knew it was Kate, or so you thought.

“Derek Hale was innocent,” you shrugged.

“Oh, sorry, not Derek Hale. Peter Hale,” you looked up at her, shocked.

“What?” you asked.

“I know things, (Y/N), I know all about you,” she said.

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed.

“You know my brother, Deaton?” she said.

“Deaton?” you exclaimed, jumping slightly.

You didn't even know he had siblings.

“I know about your powers, I know about everything. So, I ask again, how are you?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw.

“I said I was fine,” you said.

“Right, (Y/N), you know what a balloon is, correct?” you blinked, giving her a blank stare.

This is the school counselor?

“You know, a balloon can only hold so much air until it pops,” she started.

You rolled your eyes, understanding what she was saying. You were supposed to be the balloon.

“Yeah, so, you see, I’m not a balloon. I’m a human being,” you said.

“Even humans, or witches, have an emotional capacity,” she said.

“No offense, but I’d really rather not talk to you,” you spat.

“You’ll need someone, (Y/N)” she started.

“I don't know why I bothered coming here. Bye,” you gave a sarcastic smile, waving as you walked out.

---

“Hey,” you walked into the old Hale house, seeing Derek’s back turned to Erica and Boyd as they both stood there, holding each other’s hands nervously.

“We’re leaving,” Erica said softly.

“When?”

“Tonight,” she replied.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head softly.

“We can’t…” her voice wavered as she paused.

“We're sorry,” Boyd said, looking down.

“It’s okay, it's hard,” you wrapped your arms around the two of them, hugging them tightly.

“We’ll miss you,” they both held you tightly.

You smiled, sinking into the hug.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” you said softly as they both walked out.

“Derek,” you turned to give your boyfriend, walking to him.

“They said they found another pack,” he refused to turn to face you.

“Good for them,” you nodded.

“Good for them? Are you serious? Do you really believe that?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know. What I do know is that they’re scared, Derek. We lost,” you said.

“They're running away! There’s no excuse for that!” he yelled.

Why is he so mad? What did I do?

“They're allowed to be scared. They’re allowed to leave,” you replied.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so different? Since when is running away a good thing?” he finally turned to you.

You blinked softly, looking blankly at him. You felt your heart ache slightly, in pain.

There was something wrong

“Not everyone's cut out to be like this,” you cleared your throat.

He sighed loudly, walking to you as he stroked your cheek gently.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he said softly.

You just nodded your head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why does everyone think something’s wrong? I’m fine,” you scoffed.

At this point, even you knew that was a lie.

You heard the floor creak softly, as you quickly turned, Derek throwing a shard of glass at Peter who stood by the door.

“That was close. You could’ve hurt me, Derek.” Peter said, walking closer to the two of you.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you yelled, running at him.

This wasn't ending well for Peter.

---

“Kill me then. Kill me again. You two already killed me once, kill me again,” Peter gasped for air as you stood in front of him, Derek next to you. Your hands were wrapped around Peter’s neck, pushing him against the wall.

“If you’re trying to get sympathy, that ended when you killed my mom,” you clenched your jaw.

“You don't wanna hear what I have to say? Why I’m here in the first place. It's not to be an alpha, I tried that, which ended with you setting me on fire and this one slashing my throat,” he motioned to Derek as he looked back at you.

“We’d be glad to do it again,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N),” Derek shook his head, pulling you away from Peter as you clenched your jaw. He gasped for air, coughing slightly.

“Oh? What’s this?” Peter took a deep breath, looking at the two of you as he raised an eyebrow.

“Your scents are all tangled up with each other. What’s going on between the two of you?” he smirked, laying back on the ground while you resisted the urge to punch him again.

“Well, I wish I didn't kill Jennifer. She owes me 10 dollars now,” he laughed.

You grabbed his shirt, pulling him up harshly as you pushed him against the wall.

“If you don't tell us what you’re doing here right now, I will not hesitate to set you on fire. Again,” you spat.

Derek walked to you, putting his hand on your forearm.

“Hey, I said leave it,” you saw Derek clench his jaw as you sighed.

“He-”

“I’ll take him from here,” Derek said softly.

You shook your head, turning back to Peter.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged Derek’s hand off of you.

“Better listen to your boyfriend,” Peter teased.

Before you could punch him again, Derek pulled you off of him, pulling him away.

“What?” you turned to him.

“(Y/N), stop. It’s just Peter. He killed… I know you’re mad at him and want to kill him. Just please let me deal with him,” Derek put his hands on your shoulders, while you turned your face to look at Peter.

Derek put his hand on your chin, turning you to face him.

“Please,” he said softly.

“I hate him,” you replied.

“I know you do. Just… go home,” he begged

You paused for a second, looking at Peter then back at Derek before nodding softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before letting go of you as you walked away.

---

You let out a shaky breath, leading Isaac into your apartment as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I think…” Isaac paused, looking at you as his eyes watered.

“Hm?” you nodded softly, closing the door as he sat next to you on the couch.

“I’m gonna leave. With Boyd and Erica,” he said.

Shit

“Oh, okay,” your voice was low, slightly in shock as your eyes watered.

You thought he’d stay? For you?

“I-I… there’s nothing here for me now,” he sniffled.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head softly.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” his voice cracked as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Yeah, I…” you exhaled sharply, wrapping your arms around him.

He nodded softly as you kissed his forehead.

You held your cries back, leading Isaac out of the apartment after a few minutes.

As you closed the door, you felt a wave of sadness hit you, as you put your hand over your mouth, trying your hardest to hold back your sobs. You shut your eyes tightly, your tears slipping down your face before you let out a shaky breath, a small cry falling from your lips.

Your phone began to ring, receiving a call from Scott.

You took a few deep breaths, wiping your face before answering the call.

“Yeah?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“(Y/N), Gerard’s planning something. He’s controlling Jackson and he’s gonna kill someone. Tonight,” your heart dropped as Scott yelled on the phone.

“Why?” you asked.

“He wants Derek,” you inhaled deeply.

“I’m on my way,” you hung up the phone, sniffling before wiping your face, walking out of the apartment.

You’re okay

---

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” you heard Melissa ask you.

“Melissa. I... we need to talk about the station, and...” you started.

She gave you a sorrowful look before you were interrupted by Noah walking to you two.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” you smiled softly.

“Hey, kid. Here for the game?” he asked, smiling at you and Melissa.

Nope, trying to stop a raging lizard

“Yeah,” you lied as the three of you walked to the bleachers.

---

“Scott, what the hell are we supposed to do?” you whispered, getting his attention as he shrugged his back to you.

“Have you come up with a plan?” he shook his head no as you sighed.

“Do you know when he’s going to attack?” you asked, receiving another head shake.

“Do you know anything about this plan?” you didn’t need werewolf hearing to hear him sigh.

You bit your nails nervously as Stiles stood up from the bench, putting his helmet on.

“Why is my son running onto the field?” Noah groaned.

“Because he’s on the team?” you shrugged.

“Oh my god. He’s on the team!” Noah exclaimed, remembering.

You laughed softly, before getting off the bleachers, walking to Scott.

“Why can’t you play?” you asked.

“Coach benched me for the whole game. My grades aren't good,” he said nervously.

“First,” you smacked his head.

“Ow!”

“Work on your grades. You need to graduate. Second, how are you supposed to watch Jackson?” you asked, whispering slightly.

“I don’t know! I don’t know. All I know is that we have to give him Derek, or he’ll kill someone,” Scott said.

“We can’t do that,” you bit your lip nervously as you looked at Scott.

You felt a soft thud as you felt someone sit next to you and Scott.

You looked up, a smile on your face as you saw Isaac sit next to you, wearing his lacrosse uniform.

“You stayed,” you said softly.

“I have everything I need right here,” he nodded his head.

You pressed a small kiss to his forehead, while he gave you a hug.

You saw a smirk on his face before he got up, walking to Coach.

“With Isaac here, we can do this,” Scott nodded.

You held his hand, nodding as you watched Isaac run onto the field.

---

“Oh my god,” you ran onto the field, running to Isaac.

“Are you okay?” you asked, bending down to him.

You put your hand on his head, lifting it softly.

“I’m fine. It’s Jackson. I think he got me. I can feel it spreading,” Isaac’s voice was strained as he laid on the grass.

You saw as Coach put Scott into the game, Isaac being taken away by paramedics.

Damn it

You heard your phone ring, getting a call from Derek.

“I really can’t talk right now,” you said.

“Peter thinks he knows how to save Jackson,” he said quickly.

“What?” you asked, following the paramedics.

“I don't trust him, but he’s onto something. I’m watching him,” Derek said.

“Okay, I gotta go,” you said, hanging up.

You groaned, getting another call from Erica.

“I…” you started.

“Derek was right,” she cried.

“What?” you froze, taking shallow breaths.

“It was Argent,” she whispered.

You felt a coldness in your chest as you tensed, frozen.

“Both, run. Now,” you said.

“We’re trying. We’re bleeding,” she whispered.

“It’s okay. God,” you whispered, feeling your heart racing.

“We gotta go,” she said shakily.

“No, don't hang up,” you started.

The call dropped as tears rushed to your eyes, taking shaky breaths as you dug your nails into your palms.

Scott and Stiles, Erica and Boyd, Isaac, Derek. Everyone was in trouble. What are you doing?! What is wrong with you?!

You ran to the locker room, walking in just in time as Isaac stood up shakily, Gerard and standing in front of him with some hunters.

“Clypeus,” you stood in front of Isaac, defending him.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“I don't care if you know. You’re not hurting the people I care about,” you spat.

---

“Where did Gerard go?” you asked Isaac, turning to him, as the unconscious hunters were sprawled out in front of you.

“I don’t know, I think he went back out to the field,” he shrugged.

“Okay,” you ran to the lacrosse field, hearing loud cheering as you looked at the scoreboard, seeing the school win.

You looked at Scott nervously, as he froze, staring at Jackson, just before the lights went out.

You ran around, hearing people’s screams as you found Scott.

“Scott!” you yelled.

“I’m here,” you felt him hold your arm.

“Scott, someone’s on the field! Someone's dead,” Melissa gasped.

The lights powered back on as you ran to the middle of the field, seeing Jackson laying there, dead.

You noticed he wasn't breathing.

“Jackson!” you heard Lydia cry.

“Everyone back away! Now!” Coach pushed the players and team away from Jackson, as you bent down next to Melissa.

“What do we do?” Melissa pulled up his shirt, revealing deep claw wounds.

“Oh god,” you said.

“He killed himself,” Scott said.

“Stiles? Stiles?” you stood up, hearing Noah calling out for Stiles.

“Stiles? Where’s my son?! Where’s my son?! Somebody tell me where the hell is my son!”

158 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 4 years

Note

Heeey not that you have to do this but let me throw a wrench in the happiness and ask how would Loki act if there were complications during the birth? (If you hadn't already done this?)

i’m so mad at how long this took. Frigg’s birth. FINALLY. she’s been floating in existence for ages, now she can actually be BORN and i’m actually HAPPY WITH THIS

warnings: birth. death. life again. blood. crying. pain. general angst. a happy ending. complications and (spoiler) kind of child death, but only for a little bit. everything ends happily with everyone alive.

disclaimer: i am not a doctor. i have never given birth before nor delivered a baby. forgive me if this isn’t perfectly accurate. okay enjoy

Elliot is five now and Loki still can’t believe it; he’s raising a child. With someone. And honestly, doesn’t seem to have screwed anything up too badly so far.

I mean, he must be doing something right—he’s only about a month away from getting another one.

It was a…different pregnancy.

See, Elliot was right on time. His birth went as expected, he arrived the day before your due date, you went to the hospital, everything went smoothly (for the most part. Loki still won’t forgive himself for his own behavior, but you’ve been slowly working to mend that tear).

By the end of the night, you and Loki had a beautiful, tiny, healthy (blue) baby boy.

Your daughter—Sleipnir, you’ve jokingly decided to call her until you can settle on an actual name—still has about three weeks to go.

Everything has been heightened, with this one. The pains and aches are ten times worse, the cravings and morning sickness and drowsiness have reached catastrophic levels, and you’re huge.

You feel huge, ready to pop, which is only worse than the reality of the fact: this baby must be planning on being bigger than your first, plain and simple.

The days are dragging and so are you, slugging along towards the finish line when this baby finally decides she’s had enough. You move slower than the speed needed to feel useful in any way, shape, or form, and Loki does his best to slow to your speed, too—the two of you struggle out of the house every once in a while, a dashing prince and an upright snail with its shell on backwards.

“Any day now,” Loki always smiles. He says that from morning till night, he has been for the past two weeks. “Any day now.”

Then he kisses you and tucks you into his arms, a firm hold on your enormous belly until you get too hot and sweaty and annoyed being so close to him and wiggle away to kick the blankets off.

The nightmares started with four weeks until the due date.

After the first one you thought you were in labour, waking up in a cold sweat with a sharp pain in your stomach—you screeched and smacked Loki awake and Elliot came running—but a few moments of gaining consciousness reminded you that you had simply been stabbed, in your dream.

False alarm.

That’s okay, Loki had said, rubbing your back and kissing your temple, sound every alarm. Any day now.

Can’t wait to hug blueberry, Elliot had helpfully added.

A couple nights later you dreamt you managed to actually birth this child, but when the doctor handed her to you, she was nothing more than an unrecognisable lump of cerulean flesh. No eyes, no mouth, just something alive and pulsing with little pudgy arms that reached right for your face.

Loki had to wake you up from that one.

You’re screaming, he whispered. You’ll wake Elliot, is everything alright?

You burst into tears and made Loki put you back to sleep with a spell.

More and more nights passed and sleep became more and more scarce; every time you closed your eyes, some new horror would take place: you popped your belly with a needle and it flew around the room with the squeal of a deflating balloon, the baby was born beautiful but Loki couldn’t see her, Elliot yelled “blueberry!” and ate the baby, the baby was born made of solid ice and you dropped her, sending her across the floor in a trillion tiny shards of ice.

You decided on no more sleep.

Now with only a few more weeks until something has to happen with her, you’re massively sleep deprived and begging Loki to take you to Asgard for the birth.

“It’s too dangerous,” he says, pushing you back into bed. “The baby is too developed for that kind of travel while still inside you.”

He always says that.

Deep down you know he’s right, but you’re terrified and refusing to admit it. So you lay with your back turned to him every night and he lets you, knowing how mad you are, and just traces down your spine when he thinks you’re asleep.

You don’t sleep anymore, but you don’t say anything.

Three weeks until the due date and you can’t bear the exhaustion anymore, which has only coupled with a biting cold that follows you everywhere to make matters worse.

It is you, you know it, it’s inside you and you can’t escape it no matter how many blankets you hide under, and eventually you simply…slip away, off into a deep, freezing sleep that slows your heart and nearly stops your breathing altogether.

Something is hurting today, squeezing and pulling and punching. Maybe just your daughter eager to get into the world.

Huddled in one corner of the couch under an all-encompassing heap of blankets, neither Loki nor Elliot know where you’ve gone—mini-mountains of blankets have become the norm around the house—and they panic while you dream.

Oh, bliss.

You’re back in bed, warm, rested, empty, and staring into Loki’s mesmerising eyes.

“I love you,” you try to tell him, like you just came to that conclusion, but your voice comes out in a muffled gurgle, thick underwater. Another concentrated pain hits just then, but you ignore it.

He nods, slowly.

“Don’t leave me, Loki.”

This time, a shake of the head.

His hand finds your shoulder as your eyes immediately well with tears, a once comforting gesture that this time freezes your skin over with a biting ice. A pained whimper leaves your throat over the crackling of your frozen skin.

“Beautiful girl,” Loki finally whispers.

He brings his fist crashing into your shoulder, and your arm shatters into a million pieces.

Smiling, he flicks a piece of ice from the dip of your waist.

“Don’t break me,” you plead, unable to move but trying to wake yourself up. Just a dream, just a dream.

This time his hand cups your chin, fingers digging into your jaw as you freeze over and lose the ability to speak, and he leans closer, letting his lips brush your frozen ones: “beautiful, broken girl.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

His hand tightens one notch too tight and you shatter, half your face hollow and broken and melting in Loki’s palm.

You break beautifully, he whispers, and you feel yourself floating back towards consciousness. Hush, my sweet…shh…

Nearly to the surface but you’re still underwater, losing air and fighting to reach the top and you finally do, wrenching your eyes open to the light and gasping for breath.

Loki’s stroking a hand from your temple to your cheek, staring intently at you.

This is awake, you recognise, and Elliot pats your belly like a bongo, humming quietly to himself.

“Are you alright?” Loki moves more of the blankets over you; despite your sweating, you’re freezing. “I tried to bring you out of that one as fast I could.”

Yes, you want to say, thank you, but your throat is dry and you still feel like you’re underwater. Hell, your sweats still feel wet and you still feel broken.

Broken. Break.

Broke.

Still underwater.

You choke up a mouthful of water from the dream and grab a fistful of Loki’s shirt.

“My water broke.”

Loki blinks in stunned silence, Elliot sings “bum buh dum dum dum” and keeps patting your belly.

“That’s very clumsy of you, momma.”

“Now?” Loki asks incredulously, finally finding his voice. “It’s still too early—”

You shake your head, fingers scrabbling against his chest as your breathing quickens. “Now, Loki. Now, now.”

Now becomes a concept much too terrifying to accept—now is too early. Now is too soon.

Now should’ve been on Asgard, but now it’s too late.

Hospital, Loki hears himself suggesting, mind going numb at the thought of it. Hospital means driving and doctors and needles and cuts from paperwork and cold, drab white rooms with vomit pink curtains, a paper cup of water and sitting hard on the almost-linoleum floors.

The hospital would have been fine—in three weeks.

“No other option,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut and holding tight to your belly. “She’s not waiting for me.”

The first time you went through this process, your water broke at work and Loki was there in an instant, shouting at people to get out of your way while you giggled all the way down the elevator and into the car, too giddily excited for your baby to recognize much of the pain.

It helped keep Loki calm, too, allowing for him to drive to the hospital with few issues (maybe a little fast, but that was expected) and even as your contractions worsened and you slumped lower and lower in the passenger seat, you kept looking over at him and catching his eye. He’d lift his eyebrows—swerve around a corner—and you’d blurt out a laugh, cover your face with your hands, and take a few deep breaths.

This time, the smiles and excited laughter aren’t so present. Minus Elliot, whose mouth opens wider as he slowly comes to realise what the two of you are talking about.

His dad can’t quite seem to find the right angle to help you up—but you’re fighting against him, pushing his chest away instead of pulling him closer, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritting together.

Here, you ask, no…hospital—here? TAKE ME TO ASS-GARD—then you shout TRAITOR and break down in sobs, curling back around your belly.

“Elliot,” Loki smiles, a hand smoothing over your hip. “Could you give us a moment? I’ll call you if we need help.”

The little boy nods with a bright smile, flashing Loki a thumbs up before scurrying into the hallway—where he sits with his ear to the door, his head starting to throb.

“Take me to Asgard,” you hiss.

“I can’t.”

“TRAITOR!”

“It’s not safe—”

“This isn’t safe! She’s practically frozen to me, I’m—I’m so cold.”

Loki’s voice drops to a gentle murmur, only the mild timbre of his words making it through the door. Why do you hate me?? you’re crying, and nothing Loki says or does can console you, leaving Elliot on the other side of the door spiralling deeper and deeper into the worst of Loki’s panic and your rage.

His little hands start to shake and he takes a couple deep breaths, trying to ignore the gut-twisting pain shooting through his small frame.

“Momma?”

“I bet you planned this—”

“Mommy…”

His dad tries to soothe you but the pain is worsening and your daughter wants out, now. She’s moving quickly, an angry little thing already, not waiting for you.

“Just breathe, love. Just stand with me, let’s get you to the car—”

“Shut up,” you snap at Loki, stopping his sweet nothings and pointless reassurances in his throat. “Just have her here.”

Elliot tries to call for you again, trying to warn you because this already hurts and he got sent outside to feel your pain all alone, but you’re feeling it worse and more concentrated as Loki rushes to process what you’ve just asked of him.

“No, but the hospital—”

“Shut up,” you hiss through painfully gritted teeth. “Here. I can’t stand.”

“You would rather…” his hand stops on your hip and holds tight. “Here? Really?”

“You’re a god,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut as your daughter goes cold, “you know everything. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital. Get her out of me, Loki.”

—

Something cracks through the room amidst Elliot’s sobs.

“Fu—damn it,” Loki hisses, and wrenches his hand from yours.

Swollen and turning the most grotesque shade of yellowish-purple, his thumb is bending the wrong way.

“You broke my thumb,” he grunts from between your knees, blinking back tears.

It’s been years since anything actually hurt him, much less broke something, but you were shivering so violently and clutching onto his hand so tightly that it only took one push to make you snap his thumb.

“Sorry,” you choke, unable to find it in you to care too much. Later you’ll croon over him and kiss his bruises but for now, you’re pushing his child out of you. And she’s cold, so one finger can’t possibly be that bad.

The broken finger brings the whole birthing process to a quick pause as Loki scrambles to make some kind of splint for his thumb before getting back to you.

“Deep breaths,” he says under his breath, “deep breaths.”

Both of you follow his instructions, Loki’s lips moving rapidly in muttered incantations, trying to keep you from freezing over completely and the mess to a minimum, dull your pain, make this go as smoothly and correctly as possible.

A slumped, sobbing little pile on the other side of the door, Elliot has had to go forgotten for the moment. Three weeks too early, the baby is so tiny that the slightest wrong movement or slip in focus could end her life before it starts.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs when your head starts to roll limply back onto the floor. A deep breath splits him in two and he sends the duplicate to your side, already exhausted just from trying to keep you conscious enough to push.

“Keep breathing,” it whispers, stroking a hand along your frozen cheek, “almost there. Stay with me.”

Another push and you taste blood; must’ve bit your tongue amidst all the teeth chattering. Elliot goes quiet behind the door, then shrieks.

“MOMMA, BLOOD!”

“L-Lok—Elliot, get—”

“Shh, I’ve got him. Keep pushing, deep breaths.”

He hides his wince of pain and splits once more, sending a third bit of himself out the doorway to comfort the little boy while the other two keep trying to get this new baby into the world.

Your throat is closing in on itself, slowly but surely asphyxiating you and your fingers scratch at Loki’s broken hand, reaching for the real Loki, scratching his arm when no words will come out. He can only spare a single, quick glance up at your terrified face, eyes bloodshot and lips cracked from the dry iciness of the room.

Your head lolls, eyes rolling back in your head as you choke.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, squeezing your knee with a blood-covered hand. “Almost there.”

One last push and Loki shouts something in a language you can’t understand, but there’s a new weight pressing on your lower stomach for half a second, a blinding flash of blood-red light on the backs of your eyelids, and the world goes dark.

“No,” Loki croaks, and you hear one shrill, tiny cry from his arms, a heartbreaking sob from your son behind the door, and everything falls silent.

“No.”

—

She’s tiny.

Barely bigger than the palm of his hand.

The newborn should be squirming, should be crying and screeching in need of her mother, but she lays limp in Loki’s hands.

“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “No, no, breathe. Breathe.”

His fingers press gently on the slicked skin of her belly, once, twice, three times; he turns the tiny body on her side, trying again to get the little chest to lift with air.

No movement.

“No, nonono, no, no.”

A quick slice of the hand cuts the umbilical cord and it falls from her fragile neck. Loki cradles her close, staggering to his feet and holding her to his chest, bloody hands trying to bring the life back to her lungs and pressing her to his heart, trying to remind her’s how to function.

“Please,” he whispers, shakily running a hand over her tiny, slick head. “Stay with me, no, stay with me...”

You’re unconscious on the floor, lying in a pool of your own blood and Loki can’t be with you both, his duplicates phasing out of existence as he loses the strength to keep them up. Elliot yells again when the one he was with disappears, banging his little fists on the door, and Loki slumps against the far wall, staring at you with tears streaking his face.

You look dead. The baby in his arms is, and he can’t bring himself to look at her.

He hadn’t even gotten to see her eyes.

“Come back to me,” he pleads, trembling fingers running down her tiny body, ten toes, ten little fingers that should’ve curled around his, a little button nose and a dusting of dark hair on her head, blood on her cheeks.

Skin blue as the deep ocean, cold as a corpse.

“Breathe—”

Her fragile form presses against his chest and he holds her closer, trying to warm her, press her to his skin, to his pounding heart.

“Please. Breathe, breathe.”

The baby’s arm drops from his grip.

“No, no, stay with me…”

Should’ve gone to the hospital. Should’ve gone to the hospital.

It might be better if you don’t wake. He can’t face you after nine months of hell with nothing but a dead body to show for it.

Elliot’s finally given up. Loki can see him, lying in a heap against the crack under the door, silently shaking and staining the hardwoods with his tears.

His house falls silent.

For a moment he just sits there. Defeated. Alone. The tiny body of his daughter in his hands, your unconscious form bloodied on the floor.

Should’ve known better.

Frigga.

Frigga would’ve known better.

“Mother,” he chokes out, eyes closing as he cradles the lifeless baby to his heart. “Frigga. Allmother, all–all I had—help me.”

The last pleas fall into the silent house, soaking into the walls and fleeing through the windows as Loki repeats it, over and over and over:

Help us. Help us.

Let us have our daughter.

The very air in the room stills. Only dry sobs, with no tears left to spill break the brittle silence.

Don’t wake up, Loki finds himself hoping as he stares with an empty gaze at your unconscious body. I can’t explain this.

Elliot can feel it, he knows it hurts him, but it’s a good thing he can’t see this horrid scene, this murder scene in their home. His father slumped in a corner with dead eyes, a tiny, bloody baby limp in his arms. His mother in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Loki closes his eyes.

He’s seen enough.

Frigga. Please.

Silence.

Then, a tiny cough.

Another cough and the tiny body shudders in his hands, curling in on herself, little hands curling into fists, her mouth opens in the tiniest scream—

His daughter cries, and it’s the most beautiful sound Loki has ever heard.

“Oh,” Loki chokes, tears stinging his eyes, “oh, my—”

Cradling her to his heart, he finally breaks. He’s shaking, trembling, laughing and crying all at once as he listens to his daughter cry, feeling her tiny hands reaching blindly, her little belly lifting with each shaky breath.

“Loki.”

It’s a hoarse croak from across the room, and you manage to lift a hand towards him.

“Oh,” is all he can choke out again, “you—”

His laughter mixes with your daughter’s cries and he crawls towards you, clutching the baby to his heart and running a shaking hand over her to wash her with a spell.

“Frigg,” Loki whispers hoarsely, grabbing your hand with his free one, broken thumb be damned. “Can we name her Frigg? Frigga—Frigga saved—”

“Frigg,” you breathe, and Loki lays the wriggling newborn on your chest. “Frigg, oh, you’re perfect…”

Loki carefully helps prop your back up against the couch, clutching your hand and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes clenched shut.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Frigg. A perfect name for the perfect child, a tiny, mewling little girl clutching at your chest and Loki can’t look away, stunned by the ease with which she shifts to her more human form when you cradle her close.

Kneeling by your side, your hand in his clutched to his heart, he keeps his forehead against your temple and sends a silent thank you to the only mother he ever knew.

“Loki,” you murmur, the baby nuzzling against your neck, “she’s so beautiful. So beautiful.”

He can only choke out another teary laugh, nodding and squeezing your hand, not ready to let go yet as he kisses your forehead.

A quiet moment passes just soaking in the fact that your little girl is breathing, you staring at her tiny movements while Loki lets himself catch his breath against your cheek. Right now, he can’t hold you tight enough.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Frigg and catch sight of Elliot laying against the crack under the door, and a pang of guilt twists your heart.

“Loki,” you whisper, reaching up to stroke his tearstained cheek, “Elliot. Go get Elliot.”

He nods, eyes still tightly shut as he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you with a sharp inhale, breathing you in. When his eyes open, they have a new spark to them and he pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head with another disbelieving laugh at the sight of his wife and his daughter, alive, together, breathing, hearts beating.

“Elliot,” he finally calls out, turning to open the door and stopping short when he sees his son curled up on the floor. “Elliot. Oh, kærr, come here.”

He bends and scoops the little boy into his arms, hugging him close as Elliot buries his face in Loki’s neck.

“You have a new sister,” Loki softly tells him, rubbing his back and carrying him over to you. “What do think of the name Frigg?”

Your son just sniffles and hugs Loki tighter, not letting go even when Loki carefully sits besides you and Frigg, conjuring a warm blanket for the newborn.

“I know it’s not Blueberry,” you add, carefully wrapping her and keeping her as close as possible for the most body heat. “But I think it’s pretty good. What do you think, kiddo?”

“S’like gramma,” he sniffs, little voice muffled in Loki’s neck. “Right?”

Loki manages another laugh. “Right. Frigg. Just like gramma.”

Elliot eventually lifts his head, rubbing his red eyes with the back of his hand and leaning against Loki’s chest, staring at his new sister.

“She’s real little.”

“She’s early,” you reply with a smile, thumb stroking over her soft head. “She should’ve been here next month, but she got too excited to meet her brother and couldn’t wait.”

A tiny smile tugs at Elliot’s mouth.

“Hi, Frigg.”

Loki catches your gaze, the softest of smiles playing at his lips.

“I’m gonna be your brother,” Elliot continues quietly, and sits up on Loki’s lap to look at Frigg a little closer. “You’re so tiny. Can I hold her?”

You chew your lip, glancing back up at Loki. “She needs all the warmth she can get right now, what do you think…?”

Loki just nods, carefully taking the bundled baby from your arms, laying a hand on her head as it glows gold. “I’ll take care of that,” he replies, and brushes his lips gently over her head. “Sit down here, Elliot, right next to mom.”

Elliot does, scrambling to sit crisscross against your side, arms reaching for Frigg. “Ready, ready.”

“Careful,” Loki warns him, gently placing the newborn in Elliot’s arms. “Support her head, right, keep your arm just like that.”

Elliot’s cheeks are puffed out as he holds his breath, focused strictly on perfecting the way to hold his baby sister, staring at her tiny nose and shut eyes.

Not bothering to hide your smile, you lean in close, your hand under his arm to help support her head, just in case. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Elliot lets out his breath slowly, brows furrowing.

“Nah, not really.”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot to his hair and you burst out laughing.

“She’ll look completely different in a couple weeks,” you laugh, planting a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “She’s about to get really, really cute, don’t worry.”

Smiling softly, Loki shifts around to sit on your other side, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning over to kiss your temple. “She is beautiful,” he whispers, stroking the back of one finger over her tiny cheek. “She is. We made that.”

“Frigg,” you whisper back. In the arms of your son, she sleeps quietly, tiny eyes shut tight. “Thank you, Loki. For everything.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it.

The makeshift splint on his broken thumb rubs rough against your skin.

“Loki!” You grab his hand and he winces. “Your thumb, oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” he laughs.

“No, it’s not, oh my god, I’m so, so sorry—”

“My first broken bone in a thousand years.” A finger under your chin, he tips your head up and catches your lips with his. “I’d say it was worth it.

― ― ― ―

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @the-republic-and-face-of-texas

~ scroll here! ~

@doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15

~ scroll here ~

@mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys

~ scroll here ~

@highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91 @watermelon-lights19 @just-another-romantic @skinny-macncheese @lokisironthrone @rorybutnotgilmore

~ scroll here ~

@toozmanykids @brooklyn-times @nonsensicalobsessions @londonisacountry

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki reader insert #loki x pregnant!reader #daddy!loki #loki fluff #dad!loki #domestic!loki #loki angst #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir #loki fanfiction

1K notes · View notes